The Duke Suggests a Scandal Read online

  “Will you marry me?” he asked, soft and low.

  A light laugh escaped Catherine’s lips. A laugh of happiness, of relief, of a heavy weight lifted.

  “Yes,” she said. It was like music.

  Harry leaned forwards to kiss her. He found his lips stopped on the brink by the chaste touch of her finger.

  “How are we to go about this?” asked Catherine. She was worried still, he could tell. Her eyes were round and frightened.

  “It is easy,” said Harry. “Close your eyes, and I will show you how kissing is done.”

  “Not that!” she laughed, pushing him away from her. “The engagement. By this time tomorrow – no, perhaps even already today – Mr Hinton will have asked for my father’s permission, and I will be engaged to him.”

  “Then we must act quickly,” said Harry. “I have something particular in mind, but you must be brave, Cathy.”

  “What is it?” She crossed her arms in front of her chest. “I am brave as any Duke. You’ll see.”

  He could not help but smile. “This is a plan I would certainly not enact with another Duke. Only a beautiful woman such as yourself, Cathy, will do. Now, listen closely. It seems to me that your father, having given his blessing to Mr Hinton, will not happily undo it to give you to me.”

  “That is true. Agnes has been writing to Papa quite often, and he has been expecting to hear from Mr Hinton for some time. Papa hates nothing so much as broken promises. He is a very honourable man.”

  “Naturally, it follows that the only course of action is to make it impossible for you to marry anyone else, Hinton included.”

  “I do follow,” said Catherine, frowning. “But I don’t see how such a thing can be done.”

  “That is because you are an innocent,” said Harry, “and I am a profligate rake of the worst sort. Cathy, I intend to kiss you – not here and now – not unless you want me to – but in front of everyone present at the dinner I am throwing for Captain Kirby tonight. I will take you aside in private and we will contrive to be caught, as if by accident, by as many people as possible.”

  Catherine’s cheeks flushed scarlet. “How can you suggest such a thing!” She backed away from him, stumbling against the cherry tree. “A kiss – in front of people! Your Grace, think of the scandal!”

  “But that is exactly what I am thinking of,” Harry explained. “In order to sever you from Mr Hinton, we must attach your name to scandal in the worst way. A scandal which can only be assuaged by your marriage to me. Your father will have no choice but to give me his blessing.”

  “I can’t do it,” said Catherine, shaking her head. “I won’t!”

  “Then you must marry Hinton. I see no other way out of the situation.”

  “What you are asking me is uncouth,” she snapped. “Uncouth, unladylike, and unfair!”

  “But it is the only way.” He stepped towards her. “Unless you can think of a better plan?”

  Her eyes filled with fear. “I cannot.”

  “Then it is settled. I will arrange everything, as far as the location and the setup are concerned. All you must do, Cathy, is let me kiss you. Believe me, you will enjoy the experience. Then you must bear what follows – I am sure there will be anger. Your sisters will be horrified. Your father nothing less. But the moment our plan is enacted I will write to him and all will come good in time.”

  “I will be outcast from Society,” Cathy moaned. “No-one will ever speak to me again.”

  “You will be a Duchess,” said Harry firmly. “My Duchess. You will move in the very best circles and I will give you all that money can provide.” He felt a warmth settle over him that had very little to do with the beating sun. “I will be a good husband to you, Cathy. I know… I know you do not love me, but –”

  “I never hoped to love,” said Catherine. “I looked for it once, as a young girl, but –”

  They both looked at each other for a long moment, caught in the powerful net of each other’s gaze.

  Catherine looked away first. “I am sorry that you must settle for me in this way.”

  Harry placed his hands on her shoulders and forced her to look at him. “Never say that again. I am not settling. I am…” The secret of his forbidden love hovered at the edge of his lips, aching to be told. But Catherine was frightened, shaken by the torments of her day, and he could not predict how she would react if he told her. He knew, of course, that she felt no love to speak of in return.

  Not yet.

  “I am your oldest friend,” said Harry. “I am prepared to do anything to ensure your happiness. Now go, before your sisters miss you.” Before I lose all control, he added silently, and press my lips to yours.

  Catherine nodded and left, almost – but not quite – forgetting her curtsy.

  For now, she was still Miss Catherine Sharp, and he was the Duke.

  The prospect of what more might follow thrilled Harry down to his bones. He found himself spreading his arms wide, opening himself to the azure sky, and letting out a great whoop of delight that startled several wrens from their nearby bush.

  CHAPTER THIRTEEN

  The invitations for the Duke of Westbourne’s dinner party had been sent out the fortnight previously, so although Catherine had entirely driven it from her mind in all her confusion over Mr Hinton, she could not now claim to be unaware of its approach. Agnes made her lie down all afternoon, even though she returned from her walk considerably brighter, and as a result she was as well-rested as she could hope to be when they arrived at Harry’s recently inherited mansion.

  In fact, Catherine had hardly managed to sleep that afternoon. She had a permanent knot of tension inside her stomach. She barely remembered how to put one foot in front of the other as she descended from the Blakely’s landau, let alone how to speak and act and be charming.

  Harry’s mother and aunt were still in half-mourning, but the prospect of company after such a heavy mourning period seemed to lift both of their spirits. Harry’s mother greeted the Sharp sisters with a particular warmth. She had evidently missed the intimacy between their two families, which had waned since her late husband’s descent into drunkenness.

  Captain Kirby, whose arrival the dinner party was celebrating, was firmly entrenched in conversation with the Dowager Duchess, Harry’s aunt. Every time he made a move to speak to one of the young ladies he was called back by a fit of her nerves, a great desire for his opinion, or a sudden vital task that needed performing which the older lady did not feel at all equal to herself. In this way, after the greetings were concluded, he was reduced to simply smiling at the rest of the company while the Dowager Duchess complained to him of the pain in her knees and entreated him to open windows, close them again, summon a servant to stoke the fire, move her chair further away from said fire which was now grown too hot, and various other attentions which must surely have chafed at him horribly.

  Catherine caught Alice in the act of winking at the Captain, and steered her firmly towards Mr and Mrs Goodridge to converse soberly with them on the other side of the room. She felt very deeply the irony of guarding her sister’s dignity thus when she intended to throw her own reputation to the winds as soon as dinner was finished.

  But did she really mean to go through with it? The enormity of what Harry asked of her was only now becoming apparent. Catherine had never been kissed in her life before. Kissing was reserved for married couples, and was certainly not a thing to be done publically. She had very little idea of what was involved in the act. As for the thought of kissing Harry, pressed against him in a passionate embrace, in such a way that they would be deliberately overseen…

  The very thought made her feel naked. Exposed and on display to everybody. She knew she was behaving very awkwardly – Agnes’s sideways glances made her all too certain of that – but try as she might she could not catch hold of her usual self-possession. The world had started spinning around her the moment she heard of Mr Hinton’s ride to Devon, and Harry’s proposal had only sent it
whirling faster.

  She greeted Lord and Lady Hendrington, hoping she said the proper words, without any understanding of what passed between them. Alice caught her hand and drew her aside a moment so that they might watch the tragic dance of Miss Hendrington about the Duke of Westbourne, which resembled a fly buzzing to and fro to catch the attention of an indifferent candle flame – if a fly had ever worn pearls and curled its hair to perfection.

  Alice was highly amused by Miss Hendrington’s antics, but Catherine found she could not look her way. To watch Miss Hendrington was to gaze upon Harry, and she felt that if she met his eyes all the secret understanding they had formed on the riverbank would come spilling out into the open, plain for all to see.

  “Are you still unwell, Cathy?” Alice whispered, squeezing her hand. “Mr Blakely will have Potts take you home in the carriage if you are not up to company.”

  “I am quite well,” said Cathy. “Only a little distracted. Please do not remark upon it, Alice. You understand that I have had a difficult day.”

  Alice quite clearly did not understand. In her mind it must have been simple: a marriage took place when both parties wished it – nay, longed for it. There was no question of further complication. How Cathy longed to switch places with Alice, with her innocence and her spirit for adventure!

  “Look, there is Captain Kirby waggling his fingers at us, behind his back so that the Duchess doesn’t see,” exclaimed Alice, and before Catherine knew it she was being tugged towards them.

  “How lovely it is to see such fresh young things in this house of misery!” cried the Duchess the moment they drew near. “Come and sit with me, girls. Captain Kirby wishes to know all the most scandalous gossip of Larksley. I am sure you will oblige him. What love affairs have you embarked on lately? Which gentlemen have you jilted?”

  Catherine almost bit through her tongue. The Duchess’s question struck much too near to the war taking place within her own heart. Happily, Alice was more than a match for the occasion.

  “Oh, Your Grace! I am afraid they are too numerous to mention. Larksley has such a large amount of eligible gentlemen, you know, that we are quite overwhelmed.”

  No answer could have pleased the Duchess more; she burst out into a great barking laugh. “A very pert response indeed! What is your name, young lady?”

  “I am Alice Sharp, Madam.”

  “Yes, of course. I recall now. Captain Kirby, will you do me the great favour of closing the window? I would not want the Misses Sharp to catch a draught.”

  It was in fact intensely warm besides the fire, but Captain Kirby obliged her nonetheless. He made an exaggerated act of it behind the Duchess’s back, accompanied by a face of piteous exploitation. Alice raised her hand to her mouth to conceal a giggle, and Catherine elbowed her sharply.

  “You do not seem quite old enough to be Out,” remarked the Duchess, leaning forwards to examine Alice’s features closely. “Yet here you are in Larksley without your father! Does he approve of your coming to dinner parties without him present?”

  “Our sister, Mrs Blakely, is with us,” Catherine interjected, fearing that Alice was about to make another racy remark.

  Captain Kirby sat opposite the Sharp sisters, his eyes roving over them with a predatory air. After a moment, raising his hand to his chin, he leaned forwards and enquired, “Am I to suppose, then, that Larksley has offered all the entertainment your hearts could desire?”

  “Oh, no!” exclaimed Alice, before Catherine could stop her. “No, Captain, there is so much more that I cannot wait to experience! Miss Hendrington has promised me that when I make my debut in town her father will introduce me to more dance partners than I can manage! I have already decided on the colour of gown I will wear on my first evening at Almack’s. I have it all planned out, you see.”

  A smile curled Captain Kirby’s delicate mouth. “You intend to be the belle of every ball.”

  “I see no reason why I shouldn’t be,” said Alice, shrugging her shoulders. The Duchess burst into laughter again.

  “A very fine ambition! I was just the same as you when I was young. And see where it landed me, dear child – I was lucky enough to catch myself a Duke!” A shadow immediately passed over the Duchess’s face. “Oh, my dear Westbourne! He was such a lovely man – I feel his loss so keenly, you know, after all these years!” She flung herself backwards onto the settee, causing it to thump rather loudly against the floor.

  “Poor dear lady,” murmured Captain Kirby, almost out of habit. “We do feel for you so.”

  “Oh, thank you, Captain, thank you – I have been so beset by troubles, you know – now tell me, Miss Sharp, when do you and your sister intend to go to London this year? I shall give you the names of the very best tailors. You must follow my instructions exactly. Nobody can give you better advice than I.”

  Catherine had been flung into a state of confusion by the phrase dear Westbourne – words which she could never imagine falling from her own lips – and was very ill-prepared to respond to the Duchess’s question. At that moment, they were called in to dinner, and she was saved from fumbling for an answer.

  All this had elapsed and she had still spoken not a word to Harry! She wondered vainly whether he had given up his scheme entirely. Perhaps, after she refused to kiss him by the river, he had decided to turn his efforts towards lower-hanging fruit.

  Perhaps he had never meant to marry her at all, and had repented of the daring scheme which would surely make Catherine a social outcast unless it were quickly followed by marriage.

  Perhaps, perhaps… How Catherine longed to know what was running through Harry’s mind as he escorted Lady Hendrington in to dinner!

  CHAPTER FOURTEEN

  If Catherine could have read Harry’s mind, she would have seen that it was firm and set as straight and sharp as an arrow. His target was Catherine’s soft lips. His prize, her hand in marriage.

  He had not wavered in the slightest since that morning. In fact, he had come home and embarked immediately on preparations for what would prove to be the evening’s chief entertainment.

  All was in place. He had only now to communicate Catherine’s part to her, and wait, and hope that she held her nerve. Hope that she wanted him, at least in some way, more than she wanted to be chained to Hinton.

  His duty as host was to charm his guests, to keep the conversation light and flowing, and to be merry, yet he hardly knew what he said from one moment to the next. His thoughts were all of Catherine – Catherine with the sun in her hair as she said yes to him that morning – Catherine now, pink-cheeked and pretty between Mr Goodridge and Captain Kirby lower down the table.

  It fell to his mother to lead the company in pleasant chatter. Harry’s mood, to all appearances, had taken an uncharacteristic turn for the brooding.

  Fortunately, Captain Kirby was there to fulfil the role of dashing young gentleman. Even Miss Hendrington’s eyes were drawn towards him and away from Harry – though never for too long. Her bobbing gaze between the two gentlemen made her look as if she were watching a game of tennis.

  Captain Kirby was just finishing up a lively tale about a young man in his regiment who had managed to lose his boots in a bet and was forced to walk home in his socks when Harry lost his patience with dinnertime pleasantries. He made a quick signal to his mother, who smiled as if she did not understand him and shook her head. Frustrated, Harry made the signal again. His plan would not come into play until the ladies had departed to leave the gentlemen to their brandy. Harry’s mother gave him a look of surprise, but rose nevertheless and asked the ladies to join her in the drawing room.

  He caught Catherine’s eye as she stood to leave and, understanding him perfectly, she paused behind his chair as she followed the others.

  “I do wish you’d had a chance to look at the garden, Miss Sharp,” said Harry quietly. “I know you are fond of rose bushes.”

  Catherine gave a tiny nod to show that she understood.

  When the gentlemen w
ere alone, Kirby took out a packet of cigars and handed them about the table. Harry’s butler brought forward a bottle of fine brandy and began to pour. Harry declined to smoke, but drank his brandy with unnatural speed. He was beginning to feel an edge of nerves. That would not do. It was up to him to guide Catherine faultlessly through their little plot. If he faltered, so would she.

  When the conversation had reached what he judged to be an appropriate level of merriment Harry rose from his seat, gesturing to the others to remain where they were. “I must fetch you that book from the library before I forget, Kirby,” he said. “I did promise that I would have it for you today.”

  Captain Kirby took only a moment to understand that Harry wished for an excuse to leave the room for a moment. “That’s very kind of you, Westbourne,” he said.

  “I didn’t take you for a reader, Kirby!” exclaimed Mr Goodridge. Captain Kirby turned back to the table with an easy smile.

  “I promised the book to a certain young lady. No, I will not tell you who. Carry on, gentlemen – what were you saying just now, Lord Hendrington?”

  The murmur of conversation resumed as Harry slipped outside. He did not go to the library, but to the garden, where he made straight for the circle of rosebushes outside the drawing room windows. Cracks of light spilled out through the closed curtains, illuminating Catherine’s frightened face.

  “Have you passed a pleasant evening?” asked Harry lightly. A small shiver passed over her – whether from cold or from fear he could not tell.

  “Please, let’s not waste time in idle conversation. I have made my choice and I am ready.” She held her hands behind her back and closed her eyes. She looked as pretty as any of the roses – and just as prickly.

  “Cathy, Cathy,” said Harry. “Calm yourself. I am not going to force myself upon you.”

  She opened her eyes, perplexed. “But I am ready and willing. I have agreed to your plan.”