What A Gentleman Wants (8 page)

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Authors: Caroline Linden

Tags: #Romance, #Historical, #Regency

BOOK: What A Gentleman Wants
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“We have to say good-bye to someone,” she said quietly, wondering if the abominable duke were listening somewhere. Even their whispers sounded like shouts in the tomb-like quiet. “We’ll be leaving soon.”

“Is David here?” Molly hadn’t understood Hannah’s explanation that David wouldn’t be coming back, yet wasn’t dead. Hannah hoped she never saw David Reece again.

“No, he isn’t,” Hannah began, but the sound of footsteps interrupted her. She straightened, expecting the servant again, and looked into the disdainful eyes of the duke.

“Good God, don’t tell me that’s David’s bastard,” he said in greeting, looking down his nose at Molly. Hannah’s chest swelled with maternal outrage, and she placed her hands over her daughter’s ears for fear of teaching Molly a very bad word in the next few minutes.

“I demand that my trunks be unloaded this instant,” she said through gritted teeth. “I am not some object to be brought here and there at some whim of yours. You will apologize to my daughter, and you will call a carriage for us, or I will not apologize for the consequences.” His dark stare didn’t waver.

“Don’t make threats you can’t back up, girl,” he said softly. “I might call your bluff.”

“Oh, please do,” said Hannah with absolute sincerity. Something flickered in his eyes, and he looked away first

“Two hundred pounds,” he said, holding out a paper. “Complete silence, and your permanent absence.”

Hannah refused to look at the paper. “My trunks, please.” She had enough money to pay for the trip home, and was angry enough to refuse every last pence he offered.

The paper didn’t retreat. Take it now,“ he said in a silky voice, ”for you’ll never see it again.“

“I shall hope the same applies to you.” Hannah turned, taking Molly by the hand. “Come, Molly, let’s fetch our trunks and get our own carriage.”

There was a loud banging on the door then, and another servant glided forward to open it in front of Hannah. A lovely young woman burst in, and headed straight for the duke.

“Oh, Marcus!” she cried, flinging herself at him in a froth of ruffles and ribbons. “You naughty man, to keep such a secret! How could you let David be the one to break it to us? I vow, I nearly fainted when I read his letter, and Mama thought it must be one of David’s jokes, but we just had to come and see for ourselves!” The duke was untangling her arms from around his neck, looking grim, and Hannah slipped toward the door with Molly plastered to her skirt.

“Now, Celia, what are you talking about?” Hannah was surprised that the duke could sound capable of human kindness. His voice was almost pleasant with a little warmth.

“Your bride!” The young woman laughed, her eyes sparkling. She let go of him and whirled around, her eyes fastening on Hannah at once. “You must be Hannah,” she said, a wide smile splitting her face. “I’m so glad to meet you.” And she rushed over to enfold Hannah in a firm embrace.

Hannah froze. Over the girl’s shoulder, her gaze collided with the duke’s. His face was extraordinarily still, and she just knew he was furiously angry. Well, none of this was her fault, and she wouldn’t stay to face any more of his wrath. She stepped backward. “I’m afraid there’s been a mistake.”

Still beaming, the girl clasped her hands in front of her, as if to restrain herself from further hugging.

“I’m sorry, I’m so happy I forgot my manners! I’m Celia Reece, Marcus’s sister. Do call me Celia, for I’m so glad we’re sisters. David told us all about you in his letter—Marcus, you are a reprehensible rogue to let our brother tell us all about your bride,” she interrupted herself to scold the duke again. “But that’s all past, and I’m so happy for you, and for Marcus! Mama and I nearly wept with joy!”

“No, I think—” Hannah tried to say, but Celia carried on without pause.

“And I do hope you’ll forgive us for coming to town, but we just had to meet you, and of course since you’re not from London, you might want some advice, just on where to shop, you know, and Mama knows absolutely everyone! Oh, Marcus! Shall you throw a ball for her?” She swung around again to her brother and Hannah tried to gather her scattered thoughts. Molly was whimpering into her skirts, and she leaned down to comfort her daughter, ignoring the duke’s response to his sister’s ludicrous suggestion.

“Don’t be scared,” she whispered. “We’ll be leaving soon.”

“I’m hungry, Mama,” said Molly, her eyes glistening and her chin trembling. “When will we have tea?”

There was a rustle, and Celia was before them again, this time on her knees. “You must be Molly,” she said tenderly. “I’m your new aunt Celia. I’ve brought you a gift. Would you like to see it?”

Molly turned large tearful eyes on Hannah, who hesitated. She didn’t want to offend the young lady, or frighten Molly, but this ‘Aunt Celia’ nonsense couldn’t be allowed to continue. “All right,” said Molly then, removing the finger from her mouth. She let go of Hannah’s skirt.

Hannah realized another woman had followed Celia, an older woman who must be her mother. She stepped forward as Celia held out her hand to Molly. “Welcome, my dear,” she said with genuine warmth, clasping Hannah’s hands lightly. “I’m so pleased to meet you and your daughter. She’s a lovely child.”

Hannah tried again. “This isn’t what you think…” Molly squealed loudly as Celia produced a large box, brought in by another servant. Hannah stopped, transfixed. The wrappings alone were finer than anything she had ever seen.

“Mama, look!” Molly began shredding the paper and ribbons in excitement. Hannah rushed over, grabbing Molly’s hands.

“Wait, Molly. I don’t think you should open it. We— we’re going to leave now.”

“Oh, Mama.” Molly’s eyes filled with tears as she looked sadly at the lovely box. Celia knelt beside her.

“There, don’t cry. It’s for you, really.” She sent a worried look over Molly’s head at Hannah. “I picked it out just for her,” she pleaded quietly. Hannah’s frantic gaze swept the room, searching for help from somewhere, anywhere. The duke was scowling over a letter, and Celia’s mother was watching her with a concerned expression. As Hannah watched, the duke stiffened, and abruptly shoved the letter into his pocket. With two long steps he crossed the hall.

“Celia, take the child. I beg you excuse us for a moment” He seized Hannah’s wrist and began towing her away. Hannah hung back, searching for Molly, disappearing behind the skirts of Celia and her motiher.

“Mama?” she heard her daughter ask. “I want my mama!”

“It’s all right,” she called, even as the duke dragged her across the hall. “I’m here, Molly. It’s all right.”

“Mama? Mama!” Molly was struggling against Celia’s embrace, who was trying to comfort her. “Mama!” she shrieked. Hannah tried to strip the duke’s hand from her wrist and began resisting in earnest.

“Let me go! She’s frightened!” He wouldn’t let go, and when Molly bolted across the room and latched on to her legs, Hannah pitched helplessly forward, slamming into the duke’s chest. With a startled exclamation, he caught her as she grabbed instinctively for his shoulders, and they collapsed into a heap on the floor, Molly wriggling her way up into Hannah’s arms. Oblivious to all else, she held her daughter close and crooned soothingly in her ear. When Molly’s sobs finally subsided, she slowly realized that she was sitting across the duke’s lap, leaning against his chest, his hand at the small of her back. Molly’s arms were tightly wrapped around her neck, and except for some lingering hiccups, the hall was totally silent. She lifted her head.

Celia had her hands pressed to her lips, her eyes horrified. Her mother looked shocked, and even the butler’s mouth was hanging open. And the duke… She hardly dared look at him; his black glare was scorching enough to feel. Mortified, she scrambled to her feet, Molly still in her arms. Aside from one small push, the duke said and did nothing to help her. She wet her lips. “There’s been a mistake.”

Celia rushed forward. “Oh, no!” she protested, her eyes glistening. “The mistake was mine. I’m dreadfully sorry, I didn’t mean to frighten Molly, I was just so excited! You’re not hurt, are you?” Her anxious gaze flickered over Hannah and Molly both. “I’m so sorry, Marcus,” she said, turning to her brother as he rose slowly to his feet.

“Quite all right, Celia,” he said in the tight voice of someone who’s been offended but can’t admit it. “No one’s hurt, I trust?” His wrathful glance flickered toward Hannah. “Then I hope you will pardon us, but your arrival was somewhat unexpected, and we were discussing some arrangements which must be settled today.” Hannah opened her mouth for another protest, but the two ladies seemed accustomed to this behavior, and nodded. Molly slid to the ground, still sniffling, and allowed Celia to give her Missy, who had fallen to the floor. This time the duke took Hannah’s arm, very firmly, and escorted her into a nearby room.

His temper seemed to get away from him for a moment. One hand plowed through his dark hair, and he swore under his breath, striding toward the large windows overlooking a garden. Hannah decided to try a brisker tone, to set things back on the proper foundation.

“I think it vital to explain to everyone that there’s been a misunderstanding.”

He swung around, his face set. “In the face of the evidence, madam, I hardly think it will be believed.” He held up his fingers to enumerate. “First, there is my name in a marriage register, signed in a hand indistinguishable from my own, in a ceremony performed by a vicar willing to swear that I am the man you married. Second, there is an announcement of our wedding in the
London Times
, no doubt sent on my stationery in my hand. Third, there is a letter from David”—he whipped out the crumpled letter she had seen him reading earlier—“recounting in excruciating detail our supposed ‘whirlwind romance,” the very sort Rosalind and Celia would adore, and when they show up to see for themselves, here you are, just as David described you.“ He turned abruptly to the window as Hannah recoiled in shock as his words sank in. ”The only misunderstanding was mine,“ he muttered.

“Well, it simply must be corrected,” she protested.

He slanted a dark look over his shoulder. “
You
prefer to spread the truth about? I have no such desire.”

“What other choice do we have?” she exclaimed. “We’ve both been victims of a very cruel prank, and no one should think less of us for telling the truth.”

He sighed impatiently. “It’s hardly that simple.”

Hannah raised her eyebrows. “Oh, no?” She turned and marched back into the hall. “I’m terribly sorry, madam, Miss Reece, but there’s been a misunderstanding. The duke and I are not really married.” From the corner of her eye, she saw him in the doorway behind her, his dark gaze fastened on her. She tilted her head toward him with a faintly smug look to say, see how easy it was?

After a moment of surprised silence, Celia gasped. “Of course! She’s right, Mama, only a country church. We must have a real wedding here, before the ton. But goodness, do you think we can plan one for this Season? It’s already a month gone!”

Hannah shook her head. “No, that’s not at all what I meant!”

Celia rushed to pat her arm. “There, it’s no trouble! In truth, we would love it! You have no idea how Mama’s despaired of Marcus ever marrying. Mama, do you think blue for her gown? It would look so well with her eyes.”

“I don’t want a blue gown,” said Hannah in alarm. “Nor any gown at all!”

Celia’s mother laughed. “Gracious, dear, don’t let Marcus bully you! He shan’t stint; Celia’s right, you simply must have a proper wedding. Marcus, send word at once to the church.”

“Hannah doesn’t want one,” he said, and Hannah started at the sound of her name on his lips. She whirled to face him, and he cocked one brow as if to say,
not so simple after all
. “You’ve caught us both off guard, Rosalind. Perhaps you would care to rest after your journey?”

Celia and her mother agreed at once. Hannah pressed her lips together. “I am not staying,” she said loudly. “And I am not marrying that man!”

Rosalind sighed, putting her arm around Hannah. “Come, dear, Marcus isn’t so bad. I know he snaps and frowns when he’s in a temper, but you mustn’t let it fool you. Think of all the reasons you married him in the first place.” There was a moment of silence as everyone looked expectantly at Hannah and the duke, who were facing each other with the air of combatants about to duel. Rosalind turned to the duke hastily. “Marcus, don’t stand there like an idiot! Say something to persuade her!”

“I haven’t anything to say,” he said in a cool voice. “If she wants to go, let her.”

“Marcus!”

“Oh, how could you!”


Thank you
!” Hannah glared at him. It was not her fault she was here in the first place, it was his, and he was making her look like a fickle ninny. Molly was starting to cry as Hannah’s voice rose. She reached down automatically to comfort her child. “I most certainly will leave!” Taking Molly’s hand, she started toward the door. The butler’s wild eyes darted from her furious glare to a point over her shoulder, to the duke, no doubt. Hannah didn’t care; she was leaving if she had to break down the door with her bare hands and walk to Middleborough with her trunk on her back.

“Oh, Hannah, wait! You can’t go!” Celia wedged herself in front of the door. “Don’t leave, please!”

“You heard what he said,” she retorted. “I want to go, and he won’t stop me.”

“You’re absolutely right,” agreed Rosalind, coming up beside her daughter. “I don’t know what’s gotten into Marcus, but you must know he’s had a streak of deviltry in him since he was a lad. Not quite like David, but impertinent in his own way. You mustn’t take it to heart.”

Two pairs of bright blue eyes smiled at her, one gleaming with excitement, the other with determination. With a jolt, Hannah realized she had fallen into the clutches of a romantic and a matchmaker. If she didn’t get out now, she might be caught forever. She looked over her shoulder, appealing to the duke to step in and put his foot down. He met her eyes for a moment, his gaze dark and impenetrable, and then he lifted one shoulder a fraction of an inch.

“Harper, have rooms prepared. I’m sure the ladies will want refreshment as well.” There was a triumphant look between mother and daughter, and they started toward the stairs as footmen began carting in enormous trunks. Standing back to let them by, Hannah thought she might just slip out the door behind them, and no one would be the wiser, until she saw her own trunk pass.

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