The Notorious Nobleman (10 page)

Sir Walter looked up and cast a speculative
glance Gavin’s direction. “And what, may I ask, is your interest in
all of this? What is my daughter’s situation to you?”

“
Nothing. Let us merely say I have a
keen dislike of seeing someone left utterly alone in the
world.”

“
As you once were,” said Sir Walter
with a pointed look. He got up from his chair and slowly crossed
the room to where a tray of wines and glasses had been placed on a
side table. He poured out two fresh glasses of port and held one
out toward Gavin. “Get off that blasted horse,
Warminster.”

After a moment’s consideration, Gavin did
just so and led the animal to where Newley and a host of other
startled household servants were crammed in the door frame,
watching the spectacle of a man on horseback parade about the
drawing room of their lord and master. He handed the reins to
Newley, saying, “Take him back down to the street. I shall meet you
there, presently.”

With the door shut to afford them privacy,
Gavin accepted the proffered glass and found the baronet eyeing him
measuringly.

“
Suppose you begin,” said Sir Walter,
“by telling me how long you have known my daughter.”

“
Not long. A mere matter of
days.”

“
I see. And you’re in love with her,
are you?”

“
Not at all,” Gavin said,
evenly.

“
I don’t believe you. You are either
lying or you have not yet admitted to yourself your feelings for
her.”

“
I did not come here to discuss my
feelings,” said Gavin, tersely.

“
No, I don’t suppose you did. Let me
speak plainly to you, then, for I would not wish you to think I
don’t know what it is you’re about. You think to persuade me to
recognize her. You think that by doing so, she shall again stand to
inherit all that I have, making her once again a wealthy
woman.”

“
That is exactly my intent.”

Sir Walter’s brows went up. “At least you
don’t deny it. Your honesty does you credit but it doesn’t change
my mind: I shall never recognize any marriage between you and my
daughter, Warminster, nor will I ever allow my fortune to fall into
your hands.”

“
Don’t talk nonsense, Gardner. I am a
wealthy man in my own right; I have no need of your fortune. As for
marrying your daughter, the thought has never entered my
head.”

“
Is that so? If you aren’t in love with
her, then why are you here?”

Gavin opened his mouth to speak, then closed
it just as quickly. He wasn’t certain he could express the reason
he behaved as he did. He told himself that he was driven only by a
deep desire to see Julia Pettingale happy. He wanted to see the
look on her face when she realized her father had been restored to
her. He wanted to be there when she discovered that her long and
hurtful alienation from her father was over.

But now that he considered it, he realized he
had yet another motive for wanting to see her united with her
father: He wanted to remove from her path any incentive for
marrying again. From the moment Julia had first told him of her
plans to marry, he had wrestled with his feelings. Without knowing
why, he had hated the thought of her marrying some respectable yet
eminently dull country gentleman. Even less could he like the idea
of her dancing in the arms of some respectable villager at a
country assembly. It wasn’t until now, under the watchful eye of
the baronet, that he realized the reason for those feelings: He was
afraid of losing her.

He recalled quite clearly what it was like to
be in love, for he had loved his late wife most dearly; but he also
recalled even more vividly what it was like to lose her. He had
spent any number of his most recent years behaving recklessly and
avoiding at all costs any attachment that might lead to affection.
He had no intention of ever again reliving the pain of losing a
beloved wife.

But then he had met Julia Pettingale, and for
the first time in years he had felt that tug of attraction that was
too strong to be denied. It was beyond his power to admit that he
loved her and wanted to marry her himself; but he was very well
able to admit that he wished to deter her from marrying
another.

He said, with stunning bluntness, “It
so happens, Gardner, that Julia does plan to be wed
again

But not to me. She has
taken it into her head that she must find and marry some country
squire of no doubt high moral standards and infinite
respectability. She sees no other way to secure her
future.”

“
And that chafes with you, does it?”
asked Sir Walter, pointedly. He received no answer to his question
and after a thoughtful moment, he said, “Well, I suppose it chafes
with me, also.”

“
Then write to her and tell her
so.”

Sir Walter shook his head stubbornly. “She
defied me. She was rebellious and willful.”

“
Having met you, I see where she comes
by such traits. Now, write the blasted letter, Gardner!”

Sir Walter sat very thoughtfully for a
moment; then, without another word he went to a small writing table
where he set his pen to paper. When he stood again a few moments
later, he folded that single sheet and, taking a candle from its
holder, he dripped a puddle of wax onto the fold and set his signet
ring against it.

Silently he handed the letter to Gavin.
“I shall be glad to have my Julia back,” he said at last. “Losing
first my wife and then my daughter have been two of the great
sorrows of my life. When I think how much time I have
wasted

!”

“
I am glad to see you come to your
senses,” said Gavin.

“
You shouldn’t be,” Sir Walter
retorted, “because it’s going to cost you. I trust when you rashly
rode that horse of yours into this room you had already considered
that you were going to have to find another way home
tonight?”

“
I did.”

“
Good, because I intend to have that
grey of yours, Warminster. You offered him, and I intend to keep
him. That was our bargain, wasn’t it? Well, you have your letter,
and now I mean to have that stallion!"

“
I gave you my word,” Gavin replied,
stiffly. “I won’t go back on it now.”

“
Tell me, is it your practice to always
keep your word?”

“
If I make a promise, I keep
it.”

Sir Walter took his measure a moment. “One
day it might come to pass that I shall discover whether you are
really as odious and rash as rumor makes you out to be. I rather
think not, given your behavior here tonight. There’s one more
thing, Warminster, you might be in the way of doing for me, if
you’ve a mind to.”

Gavin inclined his head. “If it is in my
power, sir.”

“
I wondered, Warminster,” said the
baronet, “if you would be good enough to bring my daughter home to
me.”

Gavin a light leapt to life in the depths of
his dark eyes. He raised his glass in salute. “It will be my
pleasure, sir. I shall have your daughter home to you within the
week. You have my word on it.”

Julia Pettingale realized that the Duke of
Warminster was a man of his word. He had told her he would not
appear at Mrs. Ludhill’s card party and he had not done so,
although Julia had spent the better part of the day convincing
herself that he would be there. She felt a keen sense of
disappointment in the late hours of the evening as the card party
was drawing to close and still he had not made an appearance.

Nor did he appear in the vicarage drawing
room the next day, although Julia again hoped to see him. She had
even excused herself from paying morning calls in the neighborhood
with Harriet and her husband by pleading the headache. Her excuse
had fooled neither Harriet nor the vicar. Certainly, she had not
fooled herself, for she had neither the headache nor any other
malady; she merely wanted to be home in case the Duke should call.
Again, though, she was disappointed. The only time the door to the
drawing room opened was just before luncheon when Harriet came in
to announce that she and the vicar were returned.

“
My dear, Julia,” she said, clasping
her friend’s hand, “you do recall what we spoke about yesterday,
don’t you? You do realize it is truly best you never see the duke
again?”

“
Oh, of course!” said Julia, attempting
an air of unconcern. “You were quite right to have warned me off
any further association with him!”

Her words were very sensible, but her heart
could not have been more at odds with those rational words. She
knew herself to be inexperienced in love; but she didn’t think she
had to be the recipient of too many kisses to know when a man was
deeply attracted to her. But then she recalled that, aside from a
few kisses, the duke had never given her any indication of his
feelings; and when she chanced to suppose that a man of his
reputation had probably kissed a good many women in his time, and
that none of those kisses had led to any greater bond, she was
forced to realize that he had probably been flirting with her, and
nothing more.

All the many warnings Harriet and the vicar
had uttered concerning the duke and his scandalous behavior came
rushing back to Julia in one great sweeping wave. Under the force
of such an assault, she found herself wavering. It was so much
easier in his absence to believe him capable of the many scandalous
deeds and misconducts that rumor laid at his doorstep. She was, she
decided, better off having nothing to do with him. She was still
telling herself so, and feeling her spirits sink appreciably, when
she and the Clousters arrived at the village assembly rooms later
that evening.

A swift glance about the room told
Julia that the duke was not in attendance. Her spirits plummeted.
She had hoped, quite unreasonably, that he would be there. To find
him absent told her how right Harriet had been about him. He was
not at all in love with her, she realized, or he would have made
some sort of push to see her

if not at the card party or in the privacy of
the drawing room at the vicarage, then at least in the very
innocent surroundings of a village assembly.

Her enjoyment of the evening fell several
notches, but she put a brave face upon her disappointment and
followed the Clousters as they made their way about the perimeter
of the dance floor toward a clutch of friends and
acquaintances.

Harriet and her husband introduced Julia to a
number of people; chief among them was young Mr. Worthing, the very
same paragon who Harriet had described a few days before. Harriet’s
description had been true: Mr. Worthy was a very pleasing young man
and immediate upon his introduction to Julia, he begged the favor
of the next dance.

She accepted and when the music began, she
allowed Mr. Worthing to lead her out onto the dance floor. He did
his best to engage her, smiled quite sunnily upon her, and
complimented her on the grace with which she executed her
steps.

She knew he was striving to please her, but
she found herself thinking instead, that the Duke of Warminster had
a more charming smile by half; and that she was much more flattered
by the attention the duke had shown her than she was by Mr.
Worthing’s compliments.

Still, she smiled and danced with Mr.
Worthing, ever mindful of the promise she had made to Harriet that
she would have nothing more to do with the duke and that she would
instead devote her energies to securing a husband.

“
You should feel very well gratified,
my dear Julia,” said Harriet in a lowered voice some time later. “I
see Mr. Worthing has not been from your side all evening except for
those instances when you were compelled to dance with another. Tell
me, my dear: Do you like him? Is he not the very gentleman you
described to me as your ideal in a husband?”

Julia felt herself flush and wished most
heartily that she had never confided such things to Harriet. “I
wish you would not speak so!” she hissed, urgently.

“
Very well, I shall not tease you! The
color in your cheeks tells me all I need know. And it very much
appears Mr. Worthing means to fix his interest with you, as
well!”

“
Harriet, please! Mr. Worthing has
given no indication of any such thing!”

“
There is a way to discover his
intentions, you know. If he contrives to find some way to take you
a little apart from the crowd,” said Harriet, sagely, “you shall
know he means to court you. Mark my words!”