Julia Quinn - The Lost Duke of Wyndham

“I did not say that it was.” His voice was stiff, and he did not offer any more words before stalking off to the drawing room.

From the moment Grace rushed from the room, neither Jack nor Lady Amelia had uttered a word. It was as if they had reached an unspoken agreement; silence would prevail while they both tried to make out what was being said in the hall.

Jack had always considered himself better than average in the art of eavesdropping, but he was unable to catch even the sound of their whispers. Still, he had a fair idea of what was being said. Grace was warning Wyndham that the evil Mr. Audley had got his claws into the lovely and innocent Lady Amelia. And then Wyndham would curse-under his breath, of course, as he would never be so crass as to do so in front of a lady-and demand to know what had been said.

The whole thing would have been highly entertaining if not for her, and the morning. And the kiss.

Grace.

He wanted her back. He wanted the woman he’d held in his arms, not the one who’d stiffly walked the perimeter of the room with Lady Amelia, eyeing him as if he were going to steal the silver at any moment.

He supposed it was amusing. Somehow. And he supposed he ought to congratulate himself. Whatever she felt for him, it was not disinterest. Which would have been the cruelest response of all.

But for the first time, he was finding that his conquest of a lady was not a game to be played. He did not care about the thrill of the chase, about remaining one enjoyable and entertaining step ahead, about planning the seduction and then carrying it out with flair and flourish.

He simply wanted her.

Maybe even forever.

He glanced over at Lady Amelia. She was leaning forward, her head tilted ever so slightly to the side, as if to place her ear at the best possible angle.

“You won’t be able to hear them,” Jack said.

The look she gave him was priceless. And completely false.

“Oh, don’t pretend you weren’t trying,” he scolded. “I certainly was.”

“Very well.” Lady Amelia waited for a moment, then asked, “What do you suppose they are talking about?”

Ah, curiosity would always win out with this one. She was more intelligent than she let on at first acquaintance, he decided. He shrugged, feigning ignorance. “Difficult to say. I would never presume to understand the female mind, or that of our esteemed host.”

She turned sharply in surprise. “You do not like the duke?”

“I did not say that,” Jack replied. But of course they both knew that he had.

“How long do you stay at Belgrave?” she asked.

He smiled. “Eager to be rid of me, Lady Amelia?”

“Of course not. I saw the servants moving trunks about. I thought perhaps they were yours.”

He fought to keep his expression even. He did not know why he was surprised that the old biddy had already begun to pack. “I imagine they belong to the dowager,” he replied.

“Is she going somewhere?”

He almost laughed at the hopeful expression on her face. “Ireland,” he said absently, before it occurred to him that perhaps this woman of all people ought not to be let in on the plans.

Or maybe she was the one person who truly ought to be told. She certainly deserved to know. She deserved a sainthood, in his opinion, if indeed she planned to go through with her marriage to Wyndham. He could not imagine anything less pleasant than spending one’s life with such an arrogant prig.

And then, as if summoned by his thoughts, the arrogant prig appeared.

“Amelia.”

Wyndham was standing in the doorway in all his ducal splendor. Save for the lovely eye, Jack thought with some satisfaction. It was even gorier than the evening before.

“Your grace,” she replied.

“How lovely to see you,” Wyndham said once he had joined them. “I see that you have met our guest.”

“Yes,” Lady Amelia said, “Mr. Audley is quite diverting.”

“Quite,” Wyndham said. Jack thought he looked as if he had just eaten a radish.

Jack had always hated radishes.

“I came to see Grace,” Lady Amelia said.

“Yes, of course,” Wyndham replied.

“Alas,” Jack put in, enjoying the awkwardness of the exchange, “I found her first.”

Wyndham’s response was pure icy disdain. Jack smiled in return, convinced that would irritate him far more than anything he could have said.

“I found him, actually,” Lady Amelia said. “I saw him in the hall. I thought he was you.”

“Astounding, isn’t it?” Jack murmured. He turned to Lady Amelia. “We are nothing alike.”

“No,” Wyndham said sharply, “we are not.”

“What do you think, Miss Eversleigh?” Jack asked, rising to his feet. It seemed he was the only one who had noticed that she had entered the room. “Do the duke and I share any traits?”

Grace’s lips parted for a full second before she spoke. “I’m afraid I do not know you well enough to be an accurate judge.”

“Well said, Miss Eversleigh,” he replied, offering her a nod of compliment. “May I infer, then, that you know the duke quite well?”

“I have worked for his grandmother for five years. During that time I have been fortunate enough to learn something of his character.”

“Lady Amelia,” Wyndham said, clearly eager to cut short the conversation, “may I escort you home?”

“Of course,” she said.

“So soon?” Jack murmured, just to make trouble.

“My family will be expecting me,” Lady Amelia said, even though she had not made any indication of this before Wyndham had offered to remove her.

“We will leave right now, then,” Wyndham said. His fiancée took his arm and stood.

“Er, your grace!”

Jack turned immediately at the sound of Grace’s voice. “If I might have a word with you,” she said from her position near the door, “before you, er, depart. Please.”

Wyndham excused himself and followed her into the hall. They were still visible from the drawing room, although it was difficult-indeed impossible-to glean their conversation.

“Whatever can they be discussing?” Jack said to Lady Amelia.

“I am sure I have no idea,” she bit off.

“Nor I,” he said, keeping his voice light and breezy. Just for contrast. Life was infinitely more entertaining that way.

And then they heard: “Ireland!”

That was Wyndham, and rather loud, too. Jack leaned forward to get a better view, but the duke took Grace’s arm and steered her out of sight. And earshot.

“We have our answer,” Jack murmured.

“He can’t be upset that his grandmother is leaving the country,” Lady Amelia said. “I would think he’d be planning a celebration.”

“I rather think Miss Eversleigh has informed him that his grandmother intends that he accompany her.”

“To Ireland?” Amelia shook her head. “Oh, you must be mistaken.”

He shrugged, feigning indifference. “Perhaps. I am but a newcomer here.”

And then she launched into quite the most ambitious speech:

“Aside from the fact that I cannot imagine why the dowager would wish to go to Ireland-not that I wouldn’t like to see your beautiful country, but it does not seem in character for the dowager, whom I have heard speak disparagingly of Northumberland, the Lake District, and indeed all of Scotland…” She paused, presumably to breathe. “Ireland seems a bit of a stretch for her.”

He nodded, since it seemed expected.

“But really, it makes no sense that she would wish for his grace to accompany her. They do not care for each other’s company.”

“How politely said, Lady Amelia,” Jack commented. “Does anyone care for their company?”

Her eyes widened in shock, and it occurred to him that perhaps he should have limited his insult to the dowager alone, but just then Wyndham strode back into the room, looking angry and arrogant.

And almost certainly worthy of whatever sort of insult Jack might give to him.

“Amelia,” he said with brisk indifference, “I am afraid I will not be able to see you home. I do apologize.”

“Of course,” she said, as if she could possibly say anything else.

“I shall make every arrangement for your comfort. Perhaps you would like to select a book from the library?”

“Can you read in a coach?” Jack queried.

“Can you not?” she returned.

“I can,” he replied with great flair. “I can do almost anything in a coach. Or with a coach,” he added, with a smile toward Grace, who stood in the doorway.

Wyndham glared at him and grabbed his fiancée’s arm, hauling her rather unceremoniously to her feet.

“It was lovely meeting you, Mr. Audley,” Lady Amelia said.

“Yes,” he said lightly, “it does seem that you are leaving.”

“Amelia,” the duke said, his voice even more abrupt than before. He led her from the room.

Jack followed them to the doorway, looking for Grace, but she had disappeared. Ah well, perhaps that was for the best.

He glanced toward the window. The skies had darkened, and it appeared that rain would be imminent.

Time for that walk, he decided. The rain would be cold. And wet. And precisely what he needed.

After five years at Belgrave, Grace had become, if not accustomed, then at least aware of just what could be accomplished with a bit of prestige and a great deal of money. Nonetheless, even she was amazed at how quickly their travel plans fell into place. Within three days a private yacht had been reserved to ferry them from Liverpool to Dublin and then wait at the dock-for as long as necessary, apparently-until they were ready to return to England.

One of Thomas’s secretaries had been dispatched to Ireland to arrange for their stay. Grace had felt nothing but pity for the poor man as he was forced to listen to-and then repeat, twice-the dowager’s copious and highly detailed instructions. She herself was used to the dowager’s ways, but the secretary, accustomed to dealing with a far more reasonable employer, looked nearly ready to cry.