Chapter Four

T he picnic was followed by various afternoon entertainments, such as archery for the ladies and a ride through the countryside for the gentlemen, after which most guests retired to their chambers to rest up and prepare for the evening’s entertainments, which were scheduled to include Cherish’s singing a few tunes while accompanying herself on the pianoforte.

But Cherish did not bother to rest.

She took a moment to wash up before hurrying downstairs to the music room, where the Duke of Bromleigh was waiting for her. She paused at the threshold, hoping to calm the flutter in her stomach before she marched through the open door.

This Silver Duke was going to teach her to dance the waltz.

How was she ever to maintain her composure, especially when in his arms? “Here I am, Your Grace.”

He smiled as she walked toward him. “Good—we haven’t much time, so let’s get started right away. I’ll teach you the waltz first, since this is a dance you have yet to learn. The others, the quadrille, gavotte, reels, will likely come back to you with or without our taking the time to refresh your recollection of them.”

“All right. What are we to do for music?”

“You said you can sing.”

“This evening’s recital will be quite painful for all of you if I can’t,” she said in jest.

His smile and resonant chuckle in response simply melted her insides. “How about you hum us a waltz as we go through the steps?”

She nodded. “All right.”

He had taken off his jacket and opened up the doors leading onto the terrace in order to allow in a breeze. As he approached to take her in his arms, she made a quick assessment of his appearance.

Dear heaven. The man was sinfully handsome.

He wore dark trousers, a silverish-green waistcoat, and a dark green cravat that contrasted beautifully with the crisp white lawn of his shirt. Those hues brought out the deep green of his eyes and dashes of silver in his dark hair.

He looked marvelously broad in the shoulders and trim at the waist, his physique exquisite enough to make any young woman swoon.

“Um, Your Grace…” she said as he took her in his arms.

“Yes, Cherish?”

“I don’t mind humming us a tune, but I would prefer to go over the steps first.”

“Very well.”

Tingles shot through her when he casually placed an arm around her waist and drew her to him. He seemed quite big and powerful when up this close. “Put this hand on my shoulder,” he instructed her.

“Like this?” She was surprised by how solid he felt.

“Perfect. Now put your other hand in mine.”

More tingles shot through her as his warm hand wrapped around hers.

“Now we are going to take three steps in fast succession and then a twirl. As I move my right foot forward, you’ll move your left foot back.”

They tried it several times before she caught on and managed it effortlessly.

“The object is to move in a greater circle around the room, but also to spin in a smaller circle within our own private orbit.”

She smiled up at him. “I understand.”

He smiled back with devastating effect to her composure. “You are doing beautifully.”

Dear heaven.

Dear heaven.

Dear heaven.

She could get used to being in his arms.

However, she refused to dwell on the possibility because it would only lead to pain. Despite Fiona’s schemes to match her to this Silver Duke, it wasn’t going to happen, since he had made it eminently clear he wanted her for his nephew.

Which meant she could never free her heart to hope for him .

“Are you ready, Cherish? Start humming a waltz.”

She laughed and nodded. “All right, here we go.”

Her tune and their dance worked surprisingly well, and they had little difficulty circulating about the room in time to the music. She was surprised by how well their bodies seemed to understand each other. He had only to apply the slightest pressure of his hand to the small of her back to turn her this way or that. He knew how and when to guide their movements to create an effortless flow.

They were dancing as one, holding on to each other and lost in their private world. She supposed this was why matrons considered the waltz so dangerous. Hearts were lost with this dance, as hers was in danger of surrendering to his now.

She stopped singing, pretending she forgot the rest of the tune because she would lose herself to him completely if this kept up a moment longer.

They now stood unmoving in each other’s arms.

Panic overcame her. “How was it, Your Grace? Was my dancing passable?”

He released her and raked a hand through his hair. “Excellent. You have a natural grace and ability. Let’s move on to the next dance.”

She nodded, relieved he had stepped away to cut that surprisingly strong bond between them. Had he felt it, too? She dared not call it a bond of attraction, for people did not fall in love over a simple dance.

“You have a lovely voice, by the way,” he said, raking a hand through his hair again as he studied her.

“Thank you.”

They went through the steps of a few other popular dances, none as intimate as the waltz. But for Cherish, these dances felt almost worse, because each touch was brief and teasing, and that left her hungrier for his next momentary touch.

They were about to go over the steps of the quadrille when Reggie strolled in. “Uncle Gawain, there you are. What are you two up to?”

“We are just finishing a dance lesson,” Cherish said. “Mine, sadly. I haven’t danced in quite a while. Your uncle was attempting to help me out.”

“What fun. May I join you? I adore dancing,” Reggie said, stepping to her side. “Which ones have you yet to go through? I can help teach you, since your tutor appears to be tiring. Uncle, have a seat and rest your weary bones while I take over. You don’t mind, do you? It must be a relief to get off your tired feet.”

Cherish stifled the urge to laugh, for the duke appeared ready to bludgeon his nephew for the smart remark.

Tiring, indeed. The man could go on for several hours more without breaking a sweat, he was in that good a shape. But Cherish did enjoy the way Reggie managed to tweak him. Was it not the point of this exercise to make herself competent enough to gain Reggie’s notice?

And now she had his undivided attention, so why not take advantage of the unexpected opportunity?

“That would be lovely, Lord Burton,” she said before the duke snarled at his nephew and chased him out. “I noticed you dancing the other night, and you were divine.”

“Really?” Reggie preened.

“Yes, easily the best man on the dance floor.” She did not mention that most of his friends were not sober enough to stand up straight those first nights before the Silver Dukes arrived. “Your uncle was about to review the steps of the quadrille with me.”

Reggie took her hand and led her into the center of the room. “Let me show you how it is done.”

Cherish batted her eyelashes at him.

She was certain she heard the duke growl.

How marvelous.

But she was not going to look back at him, for she would likely give herself away. She ached to be back in his arms. This was the worst possible thing she could do for herself, since he had stated quite plainly that he would never marry.

He had also told her to start looking out for herself and urged her toward his nephew. Well, it was suddenly happening, and she was not going to kick this chance away. If she could not have love, then she would accept kindness.

She could tell by the way Reggie held her and guided her through the steps that he was a good and warm-hearted man. There was nothing rough in his motions, yet he was not soft, either. He was simply pleasant and complimentary.

Yes, she would accept kindness, because falling in love with this Silver Duke, despite Fiona’s schemes otherwise, would only lead to heartbreak. If he was determined never to marry, then she would have to settle for something less than marriage if she wished to be with him.

No matter how deeply she could grow to love the Duke of Bromleigh, she would never accept becoming his mistress. It did not matter that she might crave to be held in his arms every night for the rest of her life. To be at his mercy, a mere bauble for his amusement, was a fate worse than spending her life as a drudge at Northam Hall. No, she would never be with any man who had the power to toss her away with the promise of a few coins to ease his conscience.

“You did brilliantly, Lady Cherish,” Reggie said when they finished going through the first round of steps.

“You made it easy for me, Lord Burton,” she replied, genuinely pleased he approved of her attempts. “I cannot thank you enough. I was so afraid to make a fool of myself, especially at tomorrow night’s formal soiree.”

“You shan’t, I assure you.” He glanced over at his uncle, but quickly returned his attention to her. “I shall claim at least one dance from you. Perhaps two, if it is permitted.”

He bowed over her hand and kissed it gallantly.

She heard the duke softly growl again.

Had Fiona told Reggie about her plot to match her and the duke?

Because it truly felt as though Reggie was having jolly good fun playing the role of attentive beau. After ignoring her for the past three days, she had to question his sudden interest in her. It was not possible for him to be infatuated with her.

Fiona must have let him in on her plans and he was joining in with hearty approval. That was all it could possibly be.

But what if his sudden notice of her was real?

No, there had not been the hint of attraction between her and Reggie until supposedly this very moment…and the way Reggie kept sliding glances at his uncle was telling. Yes, he had to know of Fiona’s plan.

Cherish now felt caught in the middle. But she could not weaken toward the duke so long as he held to his conviction of never marrying. Did she not have herself to think about? And had the duke not insisted that he wanted her for his nephew?

Cherish shook her head. It was all getting a bit too complicated for her. She decided to simply go along with whatever was happening and do her best to get to know Reggie. Time would reveal how everyone’s plots were to play out.

Reggie cleared his throat. “I plan on going for a morning ride tomorrow, Lady Cherish. Would you care to join me?”

Honestly, had Fiona primed him?

She smiled sweetly. “What a coincidence that you should mention riding. Unfortunately, I am afraid of horses. Your uncle was going to help me get over my fear.”

“He was? How splendid of him, but not at all necessary. Allow me to assist you. I’ll attend to it, Uncle Gawain. I’m sure you have better things to do with your time. Perhaps you ought to sleep in late, recover from today’s strenuous activities.”

Cherish covered her mouth to prevent a strangled laugh from escaping her lips. She masked it with a quick bout of coughs.

“How in blazes is a picnic strenuous?” the duke grumbled, now striding toward them and looking not at all pleased.

She stood between the two big men, feeling the flames of defiance shoot back and forth between uncle and nephew.

But she silently cheered, for Reggie was not spineless after all. Good for him.

As for the duke, he appeared as stoic as ever. However, there was something in his eyes…could it be jealousy?

No, impossible.

Yet as silent and unmoving as he was, she could not help wishing he would be a raging ape on the inside. Bouncing off walls. Tossing chairs. Wildly jealous and beating his chest while grunting, Mine. She is mine .

“The riding lesson is not important,” she said, dismissing her fanciful notion and addressing these two before they came to blows over her. Well, that was also ridiculous. These men were family to each other and hardly likely to come to blows over her .

However, they were challenging each other, and she did not like to be the one creating a split, no matter how harmless, between these two. “I am always going to be afraid of horses, and that will not change. Why don’t you two go off together for a morning ride? I’m sure tomorrow will be a lovely day for it.”

The duke cast her a soft look. “No, let my nephew help you out. He has an excellent way with horses. In truth, he’s much better around them than I am. You’ll be in good hands with him.”

Reggie glanced at his uncle in surprise. “Thank you. I never realized you thought so.”

“I should have told you more often,” the duke admitted, and Cherish realized he had taken her earlier words about being kinder to Reggie to heart. “How about we all share a lemonade on the terrace before retiring upstairs to ready ourselves for tonight? What does Fiona have planned for us after the musicale?”

Reggie laughed. “What? You haven’t checked Cousin Fiona’s schedule? Musicale first, in which we shall all delight in hearing Lady Cherish’s dulcet tones.”

She blushed. “Well, I shall sing. Hopefully, you will find it pleasant.”

“I am sure we shall all be transported,” Reggie said, taking her hand and giving it a light kiss as he bowed over it again. “Then we all go into supper. Afterward, it is to be parlor games. She is setting us up in teams of four to compete against the other teams of four. Fiona has already put her list together but won’t show it to anyone yet.”

The duke winced. “Oh, hell.”

Cherish stifled the impulse to laugh again, for she was having far too much fun watching him squirm. This big, powerful man was such a marvel of contradictions. He had survived years of battle, harsh conditions, painful wounds, and other difficulties beyond her comprehension, yet he grimaced at the thought of having a silly young lady or two placed on his team? “Your Grace, I am sure it is all meant to be in fun. You will survive these games no matter what diabolical designs Fiona has in store for you.”

“She’ll stick me with all the peahens, I’m sure,” he muttered.

“Well, Lady Cherish certainly is no peahen.” Reggie held out his arm to her. “I hope you are on my team.”

“Oh, thank you. I would love to be on yours.” She placed her hand in the crook of his offered arm.

The duke stepped back to retrieve his jacket, and then followed them out. But he was stopped before catching up to them by Lady Margaret, who had been carrying several books and now dropped them at his feet. “Oh, dear. Do forgive me, Your Grace.”

“Not at all,” he said with resignation at the obvious ploy for his attention, and knelt to pick them up for her.

“I thought I could manage them on my own,” Lady Margaret said with a nervous titter. “I do enjoy a good read. Don’t you, Your Grace?”

Cherish was surprised when Reggie did not rush forward to assist her, leaving the chore entirely to his uncle. Was Margaret not one of his favorites? She was very pretty and knew how to flutter about in that helpless way all men seemed to adore.

But Reggie merely looked on and grinned. He also held Cherish back when she started forward to help pick up one of the books. “Come with me,” he whispered, and led her off to the terrace.

He held out a chair for her and then settled in the one beside her. Only then did he dare to emit the burst of laughter he must have been struggling all the while to hold in. “Lady Margaret wasn’t planned. But wasn’t her timing perfect? If that girl can read, then I’ll eat my shoe. Did you see the books she dropped? One of them was in German and the other two were written in Latin. Did you see my uncle’s face? Gad, how I love to see him caught off his guard. He’s always so perfect, it is maddening.”

Cherish joined him in a mirthful chuckle. “I knew it. I gather Fiona has told you of her plan.”

“To match you with my uncle? Yes, and I think it is brilliant. He wants to match us, and I am determined to see that plan blow up in his face.” He suddenly realized he might have insulted her and hastened to apologize. “I did not mean… You are clearly a lovely young woman. Do forgive me. I certainly meant no insult.”

“None taken.”

“Thank you, Lady Cherish. I can see why Fiona adores you, and I am convinced my uncle is not indifferent to you either. As for me, I am not of a mind to marry yet. Besides, my uncle is right about my needing to grow up a bit before I make a suitable duke or proper husband.”

She shook her head. “It is quite all right. I am not at all offended. I think you are a good soul, although…”

“What, Lady Cherish?”

“That woodpecker laugh of yours. Is it real or merely put on?”

He grimaced. “It is real, but only when I am drunk. You must think me an idiot.”

“Not at all. But I do prefer you when you are sober.”

“Well, I am almost grown out of these drunken revels. I’m sure within another year or two I shall be a model citizen.” He called over one of the footmen and ordered lemonade for them. “And three glasses. Oh, and move this chair away from Lady Cherish. Put it to the right of mine.”

They had taken seats at a wrought-iron table with three matching chairs surrounding it. The empty chair had been beside her. But the footman now placed it beside Reggie. Cherish was disappointed that the duke would be forced to sit next to Reggie and not her, but it was in furtherance of Fiona’s plan to make the duke realize he, not his nephew, was the right match for her.

Even if everything they did failed, as Cherish truly thought it would, it was still worth the attempt. She was so strongly attracted to this man, and not because he was a duke. In truth, his title was an irritating impediment. It sat atop his big, strong shoulders like a giant chip. He had grown so wary of everyone’s motives that he refused to ever let down his guard and allow anyone in.

The duke joined them a few moments later, striding onto the terrace in all his magnificence.

He frowned upon taking in the seating arrangement, but said nothing and settled his large frame on the chair beside his nephew. “Stupid trick,” he muttered, spreading his longs legs before him. “I’ll wager my entire estate that girl has never read a book in her life.”

Cherish thought he was likely right, but Lady Margaret was young and it was not her fault that her family chose to have her trained in the art of flirting rather than academics. Yes, she was never going to expound on important scientific theories. But she was very likeable and did not appear to have a malicious bone in her body.

In truth, Cherish liked Lady Margaret and felt sorry that her family was pushing her toward this Silver Duke when it was obvious she liked Reggie. “Do not be too hard on her, Your Grace. You ought to be flattered the ladies are interested in you.”

“That’s just it, they are not.” The duke glanced at his nephew. “Lesson number one, Reggie. When you are duke, everyone will desire you for your wealth and title. They will not give a fig about who you really are.”

Reggie leaned forward, his expression dispirited. “Not everyone, surely.”

“There are a few good people, but spotting them is a talent you must develop for your own protection. Some liars are easily detected because they are so obvious, one can spot their falsehood before they ever open their mouth. But the best ones often are not so easily spotted. They will work slowly and quietly, sowing seeds of doubt so that you no longer trust your good friends. Their motives are insidious. Their goal is to separate you from your family and anyone else who may have earned your trust.”

Cherish was surprised by his comment. He was stern and a bit bullheaded, but she had not expected to find him holding such a level of distrust in others. “I think you are too cynical, Your Grace. We are not living in Shakespeare’s Othello . There are many good people around who are not as villainous as Iago.”

Was this the reason for his determination never to marry? Had someone hurt him terribly in his younger days? Someone to whom he had given his heart?

His eyes now held the glint of steel. “I do not mean to suggest everyone is venal, Lady Cherish. But it is important for my nephew never to let down his guard. Even now, he is a target for the unscrupulous. As am I. But many steer wide of me because they fear to face my wrath.”

Reggie frowned. “And you are worried that I will be a dupe to everyone’s schemes? I hope I am not that foolish.”

“I know you are not, Reggie. But you are not yet fierce. To protect yourself, you have to develop a bit of the ruthless in you or the bad actors will swarm all over you like bees to honey. Ladies are the most dangerous, for they can get very close and sting you hardest and deepest.”

Cherish quietly held her breath.

So, there was a woman in his life.

Who was she? And what did she do to hurt him so badly?