What the Groom Wants (7 page)

So he was correct. He smiled as he squeezed her hand where it rested on his arm. So small a thing—a lady’s fingers resting on his forearm—but it was an intimate statement. She trusted him to lead and she to follow, or so the image projected. If only that were really true.

“I have wanted to do this with you for a long while,” he said.

He felt the impact of his words in the slight hitch to her step. Did she truly not know how often he thought of her? How many nights he’d spent yearning for her?

She glanced at him then. He would have held her gaze, but he had to shift to protect her from a rushing ostler. Damned streets were too busy. He wanted to be alone with her! And never more so than when she spoke, her words as much a statement as a question.

“So it was you sending me gifts.”

“Henry sent you gifts,” he corrected firmly. “It would be improper for me to send you anything as yet. There is no understanding between our families.”

She snorted, a rather inelegant sound. “I have never been a fine lady. Your mother put such ideas into your head.” Then she sighed. “And in the end, she had the right of it, I suppose. Here you are a duke.”

A little glow of happiness heated his belly. He was a duke, and as of this afternoon, that wasn’t as horrible a fate as he’d once thought. Before he’d been focused on never setting sail again. He’d lost his captaincy. All his plans were at an end.

But now, he saw new possibilities and knew that he could give the woman of his dreams more choices than he’d ever manage as a sailor, even a captain. And again, as if she’d read his thoughts, she asked about his new status.

“How did it go at the solicitor’s office today?”

“Excellently,” he said. “I’ll tell you about it after you have told me about that dress.”

He felt her stiffen even before she spoke. “Why ever would you ask about that?”

“Did Lady Redhill make it? Was that why it was so…” His voice trailed away. He did not wish to insult the woman’s skill.

“Disastrous? Ugly? An insult to good fabric?” There was a hard note in her tone.

“Yes.”

“No.” She sighed. “I did that.”

So she was in trouble. There was no other explanation. She’d sewn better when she was six.

He squeezed her hand on his arm. “Tell me what the matter is. I hear dukes can solve all sorts of problems. It’s almost magical.”

She laughed, but the sound was more bitter than happy. “I wouldn’t know. I’ve never known a duke before.”

“Well, you know one now. Tell me what happened. Let me try my new magical power.”

She bit her lip, and he could feel the struggle within her. She didn’t like sharing her burdens with anyone. Ever since she was a child, she was the one to solve problems. It would be hard to admit she had difficulties that she couldn’t fix on her own.

“I have it managed,” she finally said.

“Obviously, you don’t. Not if that dress was any indication.”

“And what would you know about that?” she snapped. “You arrived yesterday and whoosh, suddenly, you’re a duke. You don’t know the struggles of—”

“Of wondering where your next meal will come from? Of fearing that something beyond your control has taken over your life?” He shot her an annoyed glance. How little she knew of him. “I lived as poorly as you did, except that Mama insisted we keep up appearances. Honestly, I think that made it harder. Starving, when you had to pretend you’d eaten a full meal.”

“I’m sorry—” she began, but he wouldn’t let her apologize so easily.

“And perhaps I have a title now, though I’m still expecting someone to tell me it’s a big joke. But Wind, I am a
sailor
. You don’t think I’ve been at the mercy of wind and sea? You don’t think I’ve clutched the boards in a storm and prayed that God would spare my life?”

She quieted, and he knew he had scored a hit. Obviously, she hadn’t thought of him over the years. Whereas he had hung on Henry’s every tale of her struggles, she must not have heard anything of his life.

“Wind,” he said softly. “I want to tell you so much. But I cannot until I find out what threatens you.”

“Nothing threatens me,” she said. Then she huffed. “Not exactly.” Then, before he could press her further, she simply gave way. “My brother Bernard has gone into debt to…” She sighed. “It doesn’t matter who. I have promised to pay it off, and I’m nearly there. But I’m tired. I sew during the day and work… elsewhere… at night.”

His belly clenched tight. “What kind of work?” he asked, his imagination creating all sorts of disasters in his mind. She couldn’t have… Not…

She looked at him, and her eyes went wide. “Not that,” she said. “Not… that.”

She turned her face away, but not before he saw the flash of shame in her eyes. So things were desperate enough that she had thought of it. He didn’t blame her. There weren’t many options for women, and he knew better than most how easy it was to slide into an overwhelming debt.

“I deal cards,” she said. “At a gaming hell.”

This time his belly clenched, but for an entirely different reason. “Whose hell?”

She didn’t answer at first, which was confirmation enough. He tightened his grip on her hand.

“Wendy, tell me. Whose—”

“Damon’s hells are the safest places for a woman. He protects us and doesn’t force—”

“Don’t sing that bastard’s virtues to me!” he snapped. “He’s a blackguard and a thief—”

“I’m not!” she said before he could vent his old anger. And when he cut off his words, she turned to look at him directly. “I’m not. I’m telling you the facts. It was the fastest and safest way to get the money Bernard owes.”

Damn fool brother. Radley was going to have words with the man as soon as he had the time to beat sense into the idiot. Good God, but his mind was burning red with fury. Once he had thought Damon a friend. What a stupid child he had been. Radley had been best mates with Damon’s older brother. They were as close as two boys could be, sharing an obsession with the sea. At the time, he’d thought of Damon only as a tagalong, the younger brother who couldn’t be shaken. He’d never guessed at the jealousy that seethed inside the boy. It had all come boiling over one night, but not at Radley. No, the man had chosen Caroline as his target, and he had destroyed her life. The thought that Wendy was now working in that man’s club had him violent with rage. But he couldn’t express that. Not in front of Wendy. But he would fix this disaster immediately, no matter what the cost. “How much do you owe?” he asked through clenched teeth.

“I’ll have it paid off by month’s end.”

Too long, and it didn’t matter anyway. “How much, Wind?”

“One hundred twenty-one quid.”

He almost laughed. So little an amount, and yet she was destroying herself to get it. He wondered how much she’d already paid. “I will have the money to you tomorrow morning.”

“No!” she gasped. Then she all but stomped her foot. “I’ll have—”

“It paid off by month’s end. Yes, I heard. But did you also hear that I am now a duke? Good God, Wind…” He took a breath, then turned her to look at him. He held her gaze, trying to impress upon her what he’d learned, to let her know that all of it was at her disposal if she needed it. Then, when she had quieted enough to gaze back at him, he said it. The words were so new that he’d never voiced them aloud. But he did now. To her.

“I’m rich, Wind. The old duke was a miser like you couldn’t imagine. The money I have now, it’s staggering. I could never have earned that much in years as a captain even with rich hauls.” He couldn’t stop his grin. “I couldn’t believe it when I saw the ledgers this morning. The money that flows in and out of the estate is staggering!”

“But you need it,” she said, her mind obviously coming to grips with what he’d just said. “Nobs are terrible about paying off their bills. All that money is meant for—”

“Yes, yes. And those are being taken care of. As are the tenants—those who survive—and the new ones. The cash is dicey, but still there is value. There is a
lot
of value.”

She blinked, and then her eyes grew hooded. “And you will need it. For good clothes, for parties and improvements and—”

“I think I can spare a hundred twenty-one quid.”

She closed her eyes then shook her head. “You can’t just give it away,” she said.

“I can. And I will. Tell me who you owe this money to—”

“No!” she cried, loud enough to draw attention.

He winced, then began walking again. It was awkward at first, but she fell into step beside him easily enough.

“I will not have you working for Damon,” he ground out. “Nor will I have you beholden to a moneylender.” His voice dropped. “Do you know what they do to people who don’t pay?”

“I know,” she said, her voice a whisper.

Yes, she probably did. “Wind—”

“I will take it as a loan. And I will repay every penny.”

Of course she would. She had her pride.

“Tell me who it is. I shall have it paid off tomorrow first thing. And you will never, ever set foot inside Damon’s hell again. Do you understand?”

She took a breath, but he felt steel in the sound. “I won’t work for him again,” she said. “I promise.”

“Good. Now who holds your marker?”

“I won’t tell you his name. I’ll take the money with gratitude, but I can’t… I won’t let you pay it for me.”

“Then let Bernard do it. He’s the idiot who started this in the first place.”

She flashed him a rueful smile. “Very true. And if it makes you feel better, I’ll take Bernard with me. But you will
not
be there.”

He didn’t like it, but he could see that she would not budge on this. “Who is it?” he pressed one last time. “Why would you take Bernard but not me?”

She wouldn’t look him in the eye. “Because you are a duke now, with deep pockets to bleed. I won’t expose you to that risk.”

He frowned, thinking through her words. He’d never been a man with deep pockets before. He had money enough. More than most sailors, but that wasn’t the same as what he had now. He had to admit that she was right to fear. It was one thing to bleed a woman and her brother for a few quid. But if whoever it was realized that she had a duke’s money at her beck and call? The blackguard would keep his hooks in her by any means possible.

So she was right. It was safer if she went with Bernard. And maybe some of Radley’s friends. “Very well,” he finally said. “Keep the secret, but if Bernard has racked up one more penny of debt—”

“Doesn’t matter,” she said, her tone flat. “I have told him I won’t pay. And, in case he doubts me, I have already refused when he borrowed again.”

Radley would see Bernard flogged! “How much more?”

She immediately softened her tone. “Just a few pennies for a meal. That’s all. But even that—”

“He will not involve you more.” He said it like a vow.

“And you will not beat my brother for his sins.” She flashed him an impish smile. “That’s my job, and I’ve been doing right well at it these last months.”

“Months?” he asked in a deceptively soft voice. “You’ve been working off his debt for months?”

She wasn’t fooled by his quiet tone. “It’s done now. Or it will be tomorrow.” She turned and gave him a grateful smile. “And I thank you.”

He didn’t want her gratitude. He wanted something a great deal more than simple thanks. But this was a start. And now, they were about to take the next step, as they’d arrived at Hyde Park. If they hadn’t, he might have pushed her into a quiet alley and kissed her. But they were here now, and he refused to let his lascivious thoughts destroy his chance.

Whether she expected it or not, he would court her like a lady. That meant no stolen kisses in dark alleys. But perhaps, he could give her something else—a glorious afternoon strolling in the park while a duke devoted every smidgen of his attention to her.

She must have seen what he intended. She must have read it on his face because he saw her eyes widen. She licked her lips, a gesture that had his cock tightening. Even more telling was the way her expression softened.

“You’re a duke now. You can’t be thinking those thoughts about me,” she whispered.

His eyebrows rose, a haughty expression he used to mimic as a boy. Back then it had been so he could mock the nobs stupid enough to wander down to the docks. Now he realized, he would have to use it for real. It was as much an expectation of a duke as fine clothes and a massive home. He used it now on Wendy, only to discover that she was unaffected. Eventually, he released the expression to look her squarely—honestly—in the eye.

“I cannot stop what I think of you, Wind. Believe me when I say that I have tried.” He stepped closer. “You are my best friend’s sister and were too young when I left for sea.”

He stroked her cheek then. A single caress that had her breath catching in her throat. This was how they had ended up kissing yesterday. They were on a busy street near the corner of Hyde Park, but he had no interest in changing this course. He would kiss her here for all the world to see.

She saw the intention in his eyes. He watched her mouth part on a gasp. He was already closing the distance between them when disaster struck. He didn’t hear it at first. He was too busy seeing the word
yes
on her lips. But then the intrusion became all too clear.

“That’s him! Look, Minerva, I’d know him anywhere. It’s the new Duke of Bucklynde. Right there!”

Wendy was fast losing the reasons why she couldn’t kiss Radley. Why he was off limits. Yes, he was a duke, but he’d always been her better. More socially skilled, with a bigger heart, and generally, much nicer than she was. And, if he were fool enough to kiss her, then she would be doubly idiotic to refuse.

So she was done with saying no. They were standing so close, but now, he touched her, and her skin crackled under his touch.
A
lifetime
of
defenses
shattering?
she wondered.

“Yes,” she whispered.

Then she felt him jolt, and his eyes narrowed in frustration. He was turning away from her. So tense was his reaction, she thought he was protecting her from a threat. But then, a moment later, she began to doubt. What danger came from three well-dressed young ladies as they rushed forward?

“Your grace! Your grace!” cried one auburn-haired beauty. “Do you remember me? Miss Grace Robin. We met this morning. You had been at the solicitor’s office with Lord Crowle and were walking my way.”

“Yes, of course—” he began, only to have his words drowned in the woman’s breathless rush.

“I forgot to invite you to my ball next week. It’s a small affair as these things go. Exclusive. I’m sure it will be a marvelous time. Say you’ll come. Oh please!”

She stopped to draw breath, only to have the nearest woman elbow her sharply in the ribs.

“Oh! Oh goodness. I’m sorry, your grace. How rude of me. I’d like to present my two best friends. This is Miss Minerva Maitland. You’ll hear me call her “M” because of all the M’s in her name.” She giggled then the woman on her left pinched her. “Ow! And this is Miss Elizabeth Dandleford. We don’t have a nickname for you, do we?” she asked, turning to her friend, then immediately spinning back to Radley with a dazzling smile.

“Ladies, it is lovely to meet you,” Radley said with more charity than Wendy could have managed. He even bowed neatly over each lady’s hand. “I shall definitely enjoy attending your party. Now, if you’ll excuse me, I was heading into the park.”

“For a fashionable walk! Of course you were. And it’s your first one as a duke, isn’t it? That’s what we’re doing too. Not our first, of course. No, this is our second Season. Each of us, though Lizzy here started late, so it’s really her first and a half.” She stopped speaking long enough to see that Radley hadn’t followed them. Instead, he’d turned back to Wendy, extending his arm.

Wendy felt her face drain of heat as the other ladies stared. After all, it was one thing for the famous new duke to wear a seaman’s coat and clothes. It was very different for a seamstress in a drab dress to take his arm and stroll through Hyde Park.

“Your grace,” she said as she dropped into a low curtsy. She hadn’t meant it to be so deep, but her knees felt weak. “I must get back to the shop.”

“Wind,” he said as he took a firm hold on her arm. “No, you do not.”

“You have been recognized,” she all but hissed.

He appeared to think about that for a moment. He might have forced the issue. She saw his jaw firm in a stubborn tilt. But then, the beauty started talking again.

“Your grace? Your grace, everyone is in the park today. It’s all well and good for the new duke to dress oddly, but people will be less forgiving of a woman. She’s welcome to come with us. I will do what I can to help, but it will seem rather odd.”

He lifted his head and turned to look at the woman. It took a moment for Wendy to realize what had happened. After all, except for the occasional visit once a year, she had not seen Radley in a decade. And she had never seen him draw himself to his full height and stare down anyone, much less a society beauty.

“I have all the introductions I need for today, thank you.” And with that, he simply turned, settled Wendy’s hand back on his arm, and strolled away.

Wendy did her best to quell the surge of satisfaction she felt. He had turned away from three society beauties to walk with her. Then, a moment later, she placed the woman’s name and found her happiness fading. “She’s beautiful and wealthy. Her father is an important banker, and her mother is friendly with the patronesses at Almack’s. You should not have angered her.”

“Why not?” Radley answered with a snort. “I’m a duke now. I’m going to be accepted everywhere, no matter what I do or who I insult.”

She had to admit he was right. “But there are costs. I don’t know what they are, but no one flouts society without consequences.”

He glanced down at her, his expression sobering. Then he simply shrugged. “I didn’t like her.”

“You don’t even know her. I’ll wager you didn’t even remember her name.”

His lips curved in a slight smile. “Even so.”

Wendy nearly groaned. “And now you’re acting like a nob. Dismissing people just because—”

“They’re rude and impertinent?”

She shot him a look. “And when did you start using words like ‘rude’ and ‘impertinent’?”

“I learned them before I was out of short coats. Good God, Wind, you know how my mother could deliver a set down at forty paces. Did you think she spared me because I was her son?” He rolled his eyes. “She just never criticized me or Caroline in public.”

“Well,” Wendy said with a shrug, “at least Miss Robin was badly dressed. Not one of our customers, you know.”

He frowned. “Really? I hadn’t noticed. I was too busy stifling my yawn.”

So he hadn’t noticed her clothing? “Not even the white lace ruffle at the bodice to emphasize her
full
nature?”

He flashed her a grin. “Well, some things are hard to avoid seeing, I suppose. Made her look like a great white whale.”

“It did not!”

“It did. I was searching for my harpoon.”

She smiled, imagining him standing at the front of his ship, a great harpoon in his hands. Would he be shirtless as he threw? Would he look like the sketches of Greek Gods that Helaine’s mother had showed her? Wendy had a seamstress’s eye for body and form. Glancing at him now, she decided he did look like those images. And she couldn’t help the heat that rose inside her at the thought.

“Are you evaluating my clothes now?” he asked, giving his coat a self-conscious tug. “Grant has recommended a tailor, and he says he can teach me how to tie a cravat.” He flashed her a grin. “I told him I’d just knot a bowline on a bight. Had to show him what it was, but he said I might start a new fashion.”

She looked at him, seeing the laughter in his eyes. It was never far from the surface. “You’re happier now. It’s good to see.”

His expression faded. “I miss the sea, Wind. It’s only been two days, but the thought that I’ll never step to ship again…” His voice cracked a bit as he spoke, and he looked away.

“But you’re a duke now. You can do whatever you want.”

His expression turned sour. “Of course I can. So long as I mind the sheep and the tenants, produce an heir immediately, as well as make the social rounds enough to quash any fear that I will destroy England.”

She jolted at the idea of his heir, but rather than voice that, she asked about the other part. “Destroy England? How?”

“By being a radical. Or worse.”

“What’s worse than radical?”

“Newfangled.”

“I don’t understand.”

He chuckled. “Neither do I, but that’s what they said. I cannot afford to seem radical or newfangled.”

“Who are ‘they’?”

“The solicitors. The bankers. Even Lord Crowle, though he laughed as he said so. Course he also agreed that… one of my relations should be able to guide me.”

She heard the slight hesitation in his speech, right before he spoke of his relation. It wasn’t hard to guess why. After all, he was the last male relative. Otherwise, he wouldn’t have inherited the title. Which meant…

“This relation is a woman?”

He nodded, his expression rueful. “Lady Eleanor. From what I understand, she and my mother will get along famously.” Apparently, that wasn’t a recommendation.

“Is she coming here to London? Or do you go there to see her?”

He grimaced. “She’s on her way here. I need to go to Derby soon. For a few days, to understand what I’m supposed to do. But no one wants me there until the sickness is well and truly gone from the area.”

She shuddered. “I suppose that’s prudent.”

“It has nothing to do with me,” he said dryly. “As far as I can tell, their biggest fear is that I might die without an heir, at which point, the title disappears.”

“Oh,” she said, not having thought much about titles and succession. Or, if she had, it wasn’t to fear if one went extinct. She was more concerned with making sure she survived to the next week.

He turned to look at her, his expression somber. “They want me to marry her. They keep saying she’ll make an excellent duchess.”

Her heart sank, but she couldn’t look away. He seemed to be trying to tell her something, but all she could think—all she could feel—was an abiding hatred of this Lady Eleanor.

“Will you?” she asked, her voice a whisper.

He reared back. “Course not! I don’t even know her.”

“That doesn’t make a difference among the
ton
,” she said, while her heart beat triple time.

“I don’t care. She’s not the woman I want.” He took hold of her other hand. “I came home to court you, Wind. That doesn’t change, whether I’m a duke, a captain, or a plain old seaman. I want you.”

Her eyes started to burn. Of course, she’d guessed this was what he meant. After all, he’d been sending her such lovely gifts for years. But the truth was, they were near strangers. He didn’t know her much more than he knew Miss Grace Robin.

And there was something else too. He didn’t know what she’d been doing with Demon Damon either. He didn’t know that she’d been kissed by a man he considered a monster, and she’d done it in full view of the entire hell.

“Say something, Wind.”

She swallowed, her mind in a whirl. “I say that everything’s changing. It’s not that you’ve become a duke, though that’s big enough. It’s that the shop’s doing better, but with all the ladies marrying nobs, there’s more work and fewer hands to do it.”

“Hire help, then.”

She nodded. How like a man to have a ready answer to the statement, but not the feeling beneath. And yet, she was no different, focusing on his solution, not on the whirling turmoil inside.

“They must be trained, and there are some things that can’t be done by anyone else.”

“But surely, you can’t think to give your entire life to a dress shop. You’re a woman who should be a wife and a mother.”

She shot him a glare. “And surely, you cannot think to give your entire life to the sea. To live day and night on a ship, then come to land only to dream of the moment you return.”

He blinked, obviously startled by her words. She knew that was exactly how he felt. That even such a windfall as a dukedom paled to ashes beneath the strain of leaving sailing behind forever.

“But… but it’s different for a woman.”

“Balderdash,” she snapped. “If a man can love his work, then a woman can too.” Her words came out forceful and angry, but not because of the argument. In truth, she loved her work, but she did want to marry. She did want a husband and children. Her bed was a lonely place at night, and the temptation to reach for a man—any man—to fill that hole was strong.

He frowned, all but gaping. “You don’t want to marry? Ever?”

She sighed. “That’s not what I meant.”

His expression tightened in annoyance. “Then what
do
you mean?”

He still held her hands, and she felt the warmth even through her gloves. He did that to her: warmed her blood and made her thoughts sizzle and pop. Like water set to boil, he stirred things inside her and made her think of things that she’d long since given up.

“I haven’t been able to think these last weeks,” she finally confessed. “It’s been constant work and no sleep and keeping an eye on Bernard, while trying to fill order after order. Don’t you understand?” she asked, her eyes meeting his with challenge and a kind of desperation. “You are stirring things up when I want it to settle.”

He was immediately contrite. He tucked her hand into the crook of his arm and began to walk again—a slow stroll in no direction whatsoever. It would have been nice to walk through the park like this, but this was good enough. They had to constantly avoid people, but still… it was good enough.

“I have gone too fast,” he said.

“You’ve been home a day. One single day, and in that time, you’ve become a duke.”

He chuckled, the sound tight, but still filled with humor. “You stir me up, Wind. Around you, I am blown into a gale.”

“I don’t want a gale,” she said. “I want…”

He looked at her when she didn’t finish her sentence. He didn’t even have to ask the question—it was written all over his face. What did she want? And could he provide it? Then, when he kept looking at her without moving, without wavering so much as an inch, the words were pulled out of her.

“I want another kiss,” she said.

He grinned. “That is certainly something I can do.”

She nodded, but as he leaned toward her, she held up her hand. “Not here. Not now.”

He glanced about the busy street and then nodded. “When?”

She bit her lip. She didn’t have to work tonight at the gaming hell. Never again, if Radley loaned her the money, and the thought filled her with giddy relief. Could she really be done with Damon?

“I will be working through the night at the shop,” she said. “Will you come there? Late?”

“When?”

She bit her lip, thinking hard. She desperately needed sleep, but her work at the hell had kept her up at all hours. That meant she was used to working late. “Midnight,” she said.

He stroked his finger across her lips, leaving them burning. “I will knock twice on the workroom door.”

She shook her head. “I will leave it unlocked. Just come in when you are ready.”

He flashed her a naughty grin. “I am always ready with you.”

A year ago, she might not have caught his meaning. Now, the bawdy comment felt tame. “And I will be waiting.” Then she hesitated, hating that she had to ask this, but needing to nonetheless. “And… and could you bring the money then? I want to be rid of… of Bernard’s problem as soon as possible.”