Chapter One

Shoreham Manor

Brighton, England

August 1817

D ear heaven, he is gorgeous.

Lady Cherish Northam stared at Gawain, Duke of Bromleigh, who had just arrived at Shoreham Manor, the Brighton estate of her dearest friend and neighbor, Lady Shoreham. He strode into the parlor with his two friends, also dukes, and all three of them graying at the temples. These men were known throughout the ton as the Silver Dukes, and Cherish now understood what all the fuss surrounding them was about. They weren’t so much silver as silverish , for there were only hints of gray shot through their hair and none of them looked at all feeble.

A buzz of excitement filled the air as others noticed them.

They had arrived fashionably late to Lady Shoreham’s week-long house party, striding into the room with all the arrogance of warriors just returned from battle. Lady Shoreham, who stood beside Cherish, now frowned. “So typical of those beasts to purposely make a grand entrance. Now all the ladies are going to fuss and flutter over them because they are dukes and too handsome to ignore.”

“Is that so terrible, Fiona?” Cherish asked. “Was this not the point of your house party, to match unmarried young ladies to eligible gentlemen?”

“Yes, but these three are confirmed bachelors, and it will take more than a week to wear them down.” She tapped a finger to her lips as she stared at them. “But wouldn’t it be fun if we managed it?”

“We? Oh, no.” Cherish’s eyes rounded in surprise. “Fiona, do not get any silly ideas into your head, especially about me.”

“You are my dearest friend,” Fiona said with a little sniff. “I would never do anything to hurt you.”

Cherish trusted Fiona. In fact, she adored her. But she could also tell that her friend was plotting something.

Dear heaven.

She hoped Fiona was not thinking to match her to one of those ton gods.

“Oh, drat,” Fiona said with a huff. “The ladies are already fluttering around them. What a nuisance. And just look at how those rascals are eating up the attention. They will ruin my party because no lady will pay attention to the other gentlemen while busy swooning over those old dogs. What gall, showing up late. They did this on purpose to rile me, I’m sure. I ought to toss them out on their vaunted backsides.”

Cherish laughed. “Why did you invite them if they were only going to rile you? And especially if they are not of a mind to marry.”

“I had to. Bromleigh is a cousin of mine, and we are on a mission.”

Cherish wanted to ask what sort of mission, but they were interrupted as the three dukes now marched toward them with smiles on their faces. She meant to ease away, but Fiona grabbed her hand. “Stay right here, Cherish. I have need of you.”

“What for? Surely you do not need me to—”

“Gawain!” Fiona cried with abundant cheer, giving her cousin, the stunning, dark-haired one with a hint of silver at his temples and striking green eyes, a kiss on the cheek as he reached their side.

“Sorry we’re late, Fiona.” He bussed her cheek in return. “Camborne’s horse threw a shoe and it took us forever to find a farrier to repair it.”

“I suppose there were serving maids to comfort you while you waited at the nearest tavern,” Fiona muttered. “You had better be on your best behavior here, or I will never forgive you.”

The other two dukes now joined them in time to hear her grumbling.

“Och, no lassies for us,” Malcolm, Duke of Camborne, assured her. “We’ve sworn off them. Well, I have for now. It’ll be off to Scotland and fishing next for me. Alone, I assure ye. I’ll be having no theatrics from a fish.”

Cherish had read in the gossip rags about this duke’s latest fiasco with some actress, but she kept her expression blank. It was not her place to approve or disapprove of his behavior. She disapproved, of course.

Connor, Duke of Lynton, nodded as he stepped forward to give Lady Shoreham a kiss on the cheek. “I have my own theatrics to attend to,” he said with a light groan. “My children are acting up again. I fear I will have to cut short my visit and return to Lynton Grange to see what they have done to their latest nanny. I hope to still find her alive.”

Fiona appeared genuinely concerned. “Oh dear. When will you go, Connor? But yes, you must go to your children. They are most important and you mustn’t neglect them.”

The Duke of Lynton laughed. “Neglect them? I cannot be away from them for more than a week or two before they act out. I suppose it is their way of telling me to come home, which I will do tomorrow. But I wanted to see you first. It has been too long since…well, since you lost your Albert. I’m sorry I did not visit sooner.”

“You’ve had your own troubles,” she said with genuine sincerity. “How are you managing on the whole?”

“Apparently quite badly, if you ask my children. However, I think I am doing well. And you?”

“I am managing, mostly because of the kindness of good friends.” She now turned to Cherish, who had remained beside her despite her wish to run away from these daunting men. “Lady Cherish Northam is my neighbor and dearest friend. You might have known her late father, the Earl of Northam? He was a lovely man and not to be mistaken for his toad of a brother, who recently inherited the title. Well, he is a half-brother who can only be described as despicable.”

“ Fiona, ” Cherish said in an urgent whisper, wishing her friend was not so vocal in her opinions.

She tried not to blush as each duke in turn bowed over her hand, the Duke of Bromleigh being the last to greet her and somehow neglecting to let go of her. “Lady Cherish, it is an honor,” he said in a husky rumble that shot tingles through her. “None of us were well acquainted with your father, but he was reputed to be an excellent man. Seems you are cut from the same cloth. My cousin speaks very highly of you.”

Dear heaven, this Silver Duke was devastatingly handsome and quite dangerous. What had Fiona told him about her? Why had she told him anything ?

“Thank you, Your Grace.” She held her smile, waiting for him to release her hand. When he did not, she finally slipped it out of his grasp. “I ought to leave you to catch up with each other. I am only in the way.”

“Stay, Lady Cherish,” the Duke of Bromleigh said, his gaze lingering on her with enough heat to melt her insides. Was this duke eyeing her for a meal? Well, she had no intention of becoming the latest gullible lady to satisfy his appetite. “My cousin is obviously busy, so why don’t you take me around to make introductions?”

She swallowed hard. “Me? You must forgive me, Your Grace. I do not know most of these guests. You see, I have not been to London in quite a while. Not since I was a little girl.”

He frowned. “Were you never presented at St. James?”

“No.”

Fiona took it upon herself to embellish Cherish’s response. “Lady Cherish had her hands full managing her father’s estate when she ought to have been making her debut. My dear Albert and I offered to sponsor her at the time, since her parents were not in good health and could not manage the London whirl.”

His frown deepened. “Did they refuse?”

Cherish cleared her throat. “No, I refused. I am an only child and all they had. They were my heart and my life. I could not leave them in their time of need.”

His expression softened. “I see. And what of now? Will the new Earl of Northam sponsor you?”

“No,” Fiona cut in, her tone incensed. “He is an ogre, Gawain. Utterly detestable. Why he—”

“Fiona,” Cherish whispered once more. “ Please .”

She did not need her dirty linen exposed to these strangers. Besides, she was too old now to make a debut. Standing among all the fresh young partridges would only make her look ridiculous.

“Lady Cherish, I see your throat is parched. So is mine.” The Duke of Bromleigh held out his arm to her. “Come onto the terrace with me and we shall have a lemonade.” He gave her no chance to protest, wrapping her arm in his and then placing a hand over hers to make certain she did not dart away. “My friends will not be here long, and I am sure they would prefer to chat with Lady Shoreham without us.”

Cherish thought his excuse was utter nonsense, but did not protest, since others were on the terrace and there was a refreshing breeze off the sea. She had to admit, the odor of sweating bodies and stale perfume was a bit overpowering in the parlor. Even though the doors and windows had been thrown open, there were too many guests packed in here to allow the breeze to properly circulate.

As for this duke, despite his having just arrived after a long ride, his scent was divine. A mix of bay spices and male heat. A bead of sweat trailed down his neck. Cherish blushed as she watched it slowly slide along his skin.

She wanted to put a finger to it. Perhaps take out her handkerchief and gently dab it dry.

Or put her lips to it and taste it.

Dear heaven. What would he think of that?

Probably nothing at all, since he must be used to women fawning over him. He had to know how the fairer sex responded to him. He was tall and powerfully built, somehow managing to look exquisite despite his long journey and the heat of the day.

She groaned inwardly, hating to think she was no better than the mob of silly ladies who simpered over him. But she could not blame them, for there was a ruggedness to this man she found irresistible.

Everyone turned to watch them as he escorted her onto the terrace. What did he want with her? The other ladies surely were wondering the same.

He motioned for one of the footmen to bring them lemonade and then led her to a bench under a shade tree just beyond the terrace. They were now in Fiona’s garden surrounded by a soft breeze that carried the lemony scent of roses from a nearby arbor.

There was nothing improper about their sitting together, since others were strolling on the grounds and they were in full view of the parlor, yet it all felt exceedingly improper because she was with him . “Tell me more about yourself, Lady Cherish.”

She pursed her lips, not liking this one bit. “Your Grace, I am sure this will sound impertinent, but why do you wish to know anything about me?”

He arched an eyebrow and laughed. “You do not like that I am paying you attention?”

“Not at all, to be truthful.” Honestly, would a hen be pleased to find a fox licking his lips while staring down at her in the henhouse? It was no different for her to be caught under the assessing gaze of this handsome fox.

“Why not? I expect every young lady here is wishing at this moment to exchange places with you.”

“Modest fellow, aren’t you?” Oh, she ought to have kept her mouth shut. He would now take insult, and Fiona would be irritated with her for offending him within minutes of his arrival. She rose, muttering something about the need to excuse herself.

He rose along with her, his eyes agleam as he caught her wrist gently and held her back. “Stay, Lady Cherish.”

“I’m afraid I cannot. Will you let me go?”

“No.” His laughter was deep and rich, as divinely husky as his voice. “Forgive me if I am too forward. You are right to rebuke me. It is easy to be full of myself when all I receive is adulation. But I am glad you are not like the others. It is refreshing to chat with someone as sensible as you.”

Cherish shook her head. “No, actually, quite the opposite is true. If I were sensible, I would have grabbed the chance for a Season or two and found myself a biddable husband.”

“Biddable?”

“Yes, someone who would have allowed me to stay with my parents to nurse them and not made a fuss about it. Someone who…” She sighed. “Well, it did not happen.”

“And now you are in a coil because your father has broken your heart by leaving everything to the new earl, including a trust fund reportedly set up for you that he controls.”

She stared at him in surprise. “How did you know? Oh, of course. Lady Shoreham wrote to you about my circumstances. How much did she tell you?”

He arched an eyebrow.

By his expression, Cherish gathered he had been told everything. “And now that I am utterly humiliated, I hope you will excuse me.”

He would not let her go. “No, I am not of a mind to excuse you. In fact, I would like you to sit with me and tell me more about yourself.”

His hold remained gentle but firm.

“Why in heaven’s name do you care? Well, I don’t suppose you really do. But if you think I am now some sad spinster who will be an easy mark for you, then think again.”

His smile was devastatingly appealing. “I was not considering that at all. How old are you? Twenty? Well, probably older than that, although you do not look it. Twenty-two? Twenty-three?”

“I turn twenty-five next month.” She was now blushing furiously and wishing he would just walk away and leave her alone.

“And your trust fund will not be released to you until you turn thirty, or is it thirty-five? Or unless you marry?”

Cherish felt completely stripped of her dignity by this man. Why was he asking her these questions? The conversation was completely inappropriate. More important, why was she fool enough to stand here and listen?

Well, she had to admit that despite his roguish reputation and impossibly good looks, there was something quite trustworthy about him. She did not know why she should think so. Perhaps because there was no hint of condescension in his voice.

In fact, his deep rumble was quite soothing. He also had a broad and lovely shoulder to cry on. She feared to succumb to his comforting manner.

No, she would never dare get that close to him.

“You seem to know all there is to know about me,” she said, no doubt sounding a little snappish. “Now, you really must let me go, Your Grace. I doubt we have anything more to say to each other, unless you wish to save me from my desperate straits by offering to marry me. Do you?”

She was certain that comment would chase him off.

Why was the wretch still smiling at her?

He appeared quite relaxed and certainly amused as he said, “In truth, I am almost tempted.”

She laughed at the sheer impossibility of it. “Dear heaven, you are a haughty fellow.”

His expression turned serious. “I am not going to offer to marry you, but I know someone who will. I am speaking of my nephew, Lord Reginald Burton. He is my sister’s only son and my heir. Have you met him?”

Cherish swallowed hard as she nodded. “The one who laughs like a woodpecker?”

Bromleigh winced. “Only when he is drunk.”

“Which he has been since arriving at Lady Shoreham’s two days ago. I’m sure you’ll find him off in the study with some of the younger reprobates digging into her stock of brandy.”

“Ah, then you have met him.” He raked a hand through his hair. “He is nice looking, isn’t he?”

Cherish was either going to hit this arrogant man or choose to go along with the humor in the absurd situation. She chose the humor because she was not a violent person and would never strike anyone. “Did you plan this ambush of me with Lady Shoreham?”

“I wouldn’t call it an ambush,” he replied.

“Oh, then what would you call whatever it is that you are doing?”

“Matchmaking,” he said in all seriousness. “Fiona is my cousin and sort of a godmother to Reginald. We are worried about him. He is a good lad, but perhaps immature for his age. At the age of six and twenty, he ought to be thinking like a man and building a respectable future for himself. We were hoping that marriage to a beautiful, sensible young lady like you might appeal to him and mold him into the good man he has it in him to be.”

She curtsied, bowing low and keeping her gaze on him as she said, “Well done, Your Grace. You have thoroughly humiliated me, completely demolished my pride and self-respect. I thank you for considering me as the sacrificial lamb, but I must decline.” She straightened and glowered at him. “Do me the courtesy of never speaking to me again.”

His mouth gaped open.

Was this man serious? Had he believed she would leap at the chance to marry his wastrel nephew just because her life was utterly abysmal at the moment?

Well, perhaps she was the idiot. But she could not bring herself to sell her soul to some dolt who would never love her.

She strode back into the parlor and sought out Fiona, hoping to draw her aside for a serious conversation. Fortunately, she happened to find her in the hallway with her housekeeper, the very able Mrs. Harris, discussing room arrangements. Cherish approached as soon as the housekeeper hurried off. “Fiona, how could you do this to me? I thought we were friends.”

“Do what, Cherish?” She appeared genuinely confused.

“Foist me on your nephew, Reginald Burton. Will you deny this was your scheme all along?”

Fiona’s eyes widened in surprise. “Bromleigh told you that? Lord, he is such an ass.”

“For telling me the truth about your intentions? Yes, he is a supreme ass and impossibly arrogant, but at least he is honest about your schemes.”

Fiona emitted a trill of laughter. “ His scheme.”

Cherish eyed her warily. “Only his?”

“Good heavens, you don’t think I would ever consider matching you with Reggie. You are completely unsuited to each other. However, Bromleigh is determined for the lad to marry someone strong of heart, reliable, intelligent, and honest. Good looking, too, since Reggie has an eye for the ladies and would not look twice at someone he did not deem beautiful. I immediately thought of you. Apparently, Bromleigh believes you have all these qualifications. It certainly did not take him long to approve. One glance at you and he knew.”

“But—”

“I knew it as well, but that is because we have been friends for quite some time now. And before you berate me, just be aware that I quickly dismissed you as a possibility for Reggie.”

“Thank goodness for that,” Cherish muttered.

“Indeed, you are far too educated for him. Oh, I love him dearly. But he can be a bit of a clot at times, don’t you agree? I put your name forward and am only pretending to go along with Bromleigh’s scheme because…well, because my scheme is something altogether different.”

“Yours?” Cherish clasped her hands, now worried about what Fiona had in mind.

“Do you really think I would burden you with Reggie? Oh, he is a good-hearted boy, but I fear this is all he may ever be. Sweet, fun loving, and not nearly as sharp as Bromleigh.”

“How do you know? Has Bromleigh ever given Reggie a task that would test his mettle?” Although she did not know the duke or his nephew, Cherish understood how it felt to be living under another’s control and how daunting it could be.

Perhaps Reggie was behaving like a schoolboy because he had never been given the chance to be anything more.

Or was she giving him too much credit because she felt so trapped under the weight of her own uncle’s control?

Fiona sighed. “I know Bromleigh will see him set up well and leave him in the capable hands of his best advisors when the time comes. But that will not be for quite a while yet. My cousin may be a Silver Duke, but he has a lot of life still in him. Don’t you think? Goodness, he is only forty.”

“And your point?”

“I do not want you matched with Reggie. Good gracious, you are far too smart for him. But it is imperative that you agree to gaining Reggie’s affections.”

“Fiona, you are making no sense. Why should I agree to your cousin’s scheme? First of all, I am not Reggie’s type at all and do not stand a prayer of gaining his affections.”

“You are very pretty, Cherish. I’m sure every man thinks so. But as I’ve said, you and Reggie would not suit.”

Cherish nodded. “Second of all, I would not even know how to go about gaining any man’s affections. Yes, it is my fault for never taking lessons in such matters. But the fact remains, I do not know how to flirt.”

“Which is why you are so perfect.” Fiona glanced around furtively and then cast Cherish a beaming smile. “This is what you will say to Bromleigh when you approach him to tell him you have reconsidered and will accept the challenge.”

“I am to admit that I do not know how to flirt?” Cherish burst out laughing. “And why would I tell him that?”

“Because he will never be able to resist the challenge. More important, he will never be able to resist you. Do you not see where I am going yet? I want you for Bromleigh. Is it not obvious? I mean to make you his wife.”