Five Days With a Duke, page 18
Her heart jumped.
At some point, another gathering had assembled.
“They are spying,” Constance announced.
As one, each friend looked to the assembled gentlemen: two marquesses, two dukes, and a gentleman.
“Should I go tell them to leave?” Meredith offered, already starting down the graveled path.
Rowena sighed. “They aren’t spying. Why, they aren’t even paying us any notice.”
Emilia went back to digging, and while Constance’s friends continued chatting, she stared off in the distance to where Connell stood.
As Rowena had pointed out, the gentlemen were otherwise occupied. They gathered around Connell while he regaled them with some story or another, gesticulating as he spoke. Even with the space parting the groups, the rumbles of laughter carried. Whatever he said just then had Lord Heath doubled over with mirth.
A little sigh slipped out. Her husband could charm or regale anyone. That effortless ability had hopelessly ensnared her from the very moment she’d knocked on his door.
Her husband.
She rolled those words around in her mind, testing them. Hardly daring to believe that she’d not only married, but that she’d wed a man who’d captured her heart.
Just then, Connell glanced over.
Her heart jumped several beats.
Connell touched a hand to his chest. “I love you,” he mouthed.
“I love you,” she silently returned.
“I believe that should do it!” Emilia cried excitedly, shattering the moment and demanding Constance’s attention.
And for the first time, she registered…
“That hole in my garden is rather large,” Constance blurted. She took a step closer to the deep trench and peered inside.
Rowena ambled over until she stood shoulder to shoulder with Constance. “It is indeed deep.”
“She’s intending to bury someone,” Meredith said in somber tones. “That is all there is to explain it.”
Constance burst into laughter along with her friends.
Emilia scowled. “Oh, hush. You may be laughing now…” She paused to level a hard look at each of them. “But you won’t be in eighteen years.”
That managed to kill the mirth of Constance and the other women.
“This sounds all too familiar,” Rowena muttered, eyeing the graveled path to where the gentlemen still laughed and mingled.
“Oh, no,” Meredith said, gripping the other woman lightly by the forearm. “We are in this”—whatever the latest this Emilia had concocted for them—“together.”
Emilia thumped the end of her shovel on the mound of soil she’d just unearthed. “I hear you.”
“What in blazes are you up to now?” Aldora asked, folding her arms at her belly, lightly accentuating—
Constance flared her eyes.
“You are with child, too!” Emilia exclaimed. Her words emerged faintly accusatory.
A pink blush splotched Aldora’s cheeks. “You needn’t say it like that. Furthermore, I was going to tell you,” the other woman grumbled.
Constance, Rowena, and Meredith surrounded the glowing mother-to-be. Or they attempted to.
Emilia clanged her shovel against a nearby wrought-iron statue. “There will be time enough for celebration after—”
“Does that also include Constance and Renaud’s wedding festivities?” Aldora drawled. “Because it does seem essential to get back to all of that.”
“We will,” Emilia promised. “But first…” With a grand flourish, she fetched three satchels from behind a stone bench.
“Whenever did you have those delivered?” Constance mused.
“It is Emilia,” Meredith pointed out. “She is capable of many great surprises.”
“I may have had some assistance from Jennie. She’s quite wonderful, you know. I would dearly love to have her—”
Constance shook her head. “You’re not stealing her.”
“Cutting into Constance’s wedding celebration and now she’s attempting to steal her servants. Is there no end to the outrageous behaviors?” Aldora asked, her expression deadpan.
Emilia drew back, pressing a palm to her chest. “Of course I wouldn’t. Not really.” The marchioness gave a little toss of her damp curls. “Either way, I’ll not let any of you distract me anymore from the importance of this meeting.” The marchioness drew in a breath. “Dukes.”
The lengthy silence was broken a moment later by more muffled laughter from their respective spouses hiding in the conservatory.
“Uh… I don’t suppose you are on that whole business of ‘the hearts of dukes’ again,” Aldora ventured. “I assure you I’m quite content with my Michael.”
“This isn’t about you, Aldora.” Emilia looked to Rowena. “Or you, Rowena. Or you. Or you,” she said to Constance and Meredith. “Nearly all of us have won the hearts of dukes or eventual dukes.”
“And?” Constance asked, stealing another longing look in her husband’s direction.
Emilia pinched her lightly on the arm and then returned to her satchels. Dropping to a knee, she withdrew a stack of…
Constance wrinkled her brow. “Mrs. Matcher’s?” She joined her friend on the ground. More specifically… Five Ways to Win the Heart of a Duke. That particular column in Mrs. Matcher’s had been met with scorn and derision at the sheer scandalous nature of the guidance that had been given to young, unmarried ladies. The column had also proven one of the most successful, selling countless copies.
“I’ve found as many as I could.” Emilia looked up at her friends. “We need to bury them.”
“If we were determined that no one should ever see them, wouldn’t it make more sense to… burn them?” Rowena asked with her usual pragmatism.
Burn them? That column that only Emilia and Connell knew Constance had written? And yet, so much of Constance’s joy had come from these very pages.
“We cannot destroy words, Rowena.” Emilia stroked a reverent hand over them. “Especially not these.”
“I wrote them,” Constance murmured, earning shocked stares from her dearest friends.
Aldora was the first to find her footing. “Well, then we’re certainly not destroying them.”
“We’re not destroying them,” Emilia said impatiently. She paused. “We’re hiding them.”
Aldora collected one of the papers. “Hiding them… from whom?”
Emilia looked meaningfully at each woman’s rounded belly.
And then it made sense. Or at least, Emilia’s intentions made sense.
“They’ll never find dukes. And worse, they’ll be filled with a romantic belief that they should seek out the attentions of those most powerful peers.”
“We married those most powerful peers,” Constance felt inclined to remind her.
“But it’s unrealistic. An impossibility that our daughters will do the same. After all, it’s not as though there are endless dukes running about England.”
They nodded sagely.
“And it is far more important that our daughters focus on winning the hearts of honorable men without a thought of a title,” Aldora said softly.
Emilia beamed. “Precisely.”
Constance stared at the massive collection of papers Emilia had managed to gather up that now rested alongside the hole. A pang struck at the idea of those works being buried.
Scooting closer, Emilia caught Constance’s hand. “It occurs I’ve been insensitive,” she said softly. “We should keep them. They are your works…”
Constance picked up one of the papers. As much as her friend’s intentions stung, there was also a truth to the concerns Emilia had raised. Constance saw that now. She read the title inked upon the front: Five Ways to Win the Heart of a Duke.
And yet, for as special as those days had been with Connell, and as true as those lessons, in fact, were, there also remained one inherent error that would mislead young ladies… all women: It didn’t matter if it was the heart of a duke but, as Aldora had pointed out, the heart of a man of honor.
Constance nodded and then slowly lowered the paper in her hands into the hole.
“You are… certain?” Emilia asked.
“Yes.” Constance held her gaze. “But I would like the opportunity to rewrite the column in the future… to issue a correction where the lessons are laid out to make clear that the only thing that matters is that a lady is winning the heart of a kind, honorable man worthy of her.”
Emilia smiled and held her palm out.
A short while later, the collected papers had been filed away into the ground and covered with dirt.
The women stood around, staring at the small mound.
“Our daughters will know that titles matter not at all,” Rowena said quietly.
There was a poignancy to that little burial, as they were once more the girls they’d been… ladies united. Only this time, it was born of a different purpose. Constance stared on wistfully. How fast time had passed. Soon, as Emilia had pointed out, their children would be grown… and plotting… and planning in matters of the heart.
“Are you returning with us?” Emilia asked when the group started back for the front of the gardens.
Constance shook her head. “I’ll be along shortly.”
The door to the conservatory opened, and Connell stepped out. Cupping his hands around his mouth, he called out, “Would it be permissible that I may spend some time with my bride?”
Constance’s heart leaped as he approached. The moment he reached her side, she stepped into his arms and lifted her mouth up to his for a kiss.
Her belly fluttered and danced from that tender meeting. When he drew back, Connell glanced down at the earth. “Dare I ask?”
Her lips twitched. “Emilia advised that we bury Mrs. Matcher’s Five Ways to Win the Heart of a Duke.”
He wrinkled his brow.
“The dearth of dukes, of course.”
“Ahh,” he said with a mock solemnity. “Of course.” That teasing lifted. “And what do you wish?” Connell stroked his knuckles down her cheek, and closing her eyes, she leaned into that softest of touches.
“I…” Can barely recall my name when you touch me, let alone properly think.
Constance forced her lids open. “I know that if we have daughters,” she began slowly, “I do not want them thinking a title is what matters most, or even at all, when they consider matters of the heart. And yet…”
“And yet?”
A swell of emotion flooded her breast, and she lifted her eyes to his. “And yet, I know that had some young lady not been asking about winning the heart of a duke, then I’d not have had the idea to visit with you those five days, and then… I’d have never known the love that I do.”
Connell caressed a palm over her cheek once more. That touch too fleeting as he released her… and… unbuttoned his jacket.
She widened her eyes. “What are you doing?” she whispered, stealing a glance at the empty conservatory. When she looked back, Connell already had his shirt-sleeves rolled up.
He grinned his rogue’s grin and grabbed the shovel. “I’ll be damned if I see you bury anything you’ve ever written.”
“Even if it gives our future daughters false ideas on matters of the heart?”
His brow dipped. And he faltered. She could all but see his thoughts turning: the fear, the anxiousness.
Connell gave his head a shake and began digging. “We keep the papers for us, then, and we’ll teach our children from what we know to be true.”
She drifted over. “And what is that, dear husband?”
Holding on to the shovel with one hand, Connell caught Constance about the waist with the other and drew her close. “Love is all they’ll need.”
Constance looped her arms about his neck and drew herself up onto her toes so their noses almost touched. “And love is what we’ll always have.”
Connell smiled. “Indeed, we will, my duchess. Indeed, we will.”
As he again kissed her, she tasted that promise on his lips.
Forever.
The End
Coming Soon
If you enjoyed Five Days With a Duke, be sure and read The Spinster Who Saved a Scoundrel, the next installment in my Brethren series!
In the next Brethren installment, a clever spinster is matched with a traitor to the Crown.
The death of her father leaves Miss Francesca Cornworthy …. alone, and with one last wish to fulfill—that she marry a safe, respectable gentleman. She sets herself on a course to honor that request. That is until she crosses paths with Mr. Lathan Holman—the very opposite type of gentleman her father wished her to wed.
After one mistake earned him the title of traitor, Lathan Holman has no interest in reentering society. Then he meets a quick-witted, sharp-mouthed spinster. His dark past clouds his present and future. He’d been certain he’d never laugh or smile again…but it isn’t long before, he finds himself doing both with Miss Francesca Cornworthy…and wanting more.
Also Coming by Christi Caldwell
In Bed With the Earl
March 2020
Christi Caldwell, USA TODAY bestselling author of the Wicked Wallflowers series, combs London’s underground and finds romance and danger for a missing lord and the lady who loves him.
To solve a mystery that’s become the talk of the ton, no clues run too deep for willful reporter Verity Lovelace. Not even in the sewers of London. That’s precisely where she finds happily self-sufficient scavenger Malcom North, lost heir to the Earl of Maxwell. Now that Verity’s made him front-page news, what will he make of her?
Kidnapped as a child, with no memories of his well-heeled past, Malcom prefers the grimy spoils of the culverts to the gilded riches of society. Damn the feisty beauty who exposed the contented tosher to a parade of fortune-hunting matchmakers. How to keep them at bay? Verity must pretend to be his wife. She owes him.
The intimacy of this necessary arrangement—Verity and Malcom thrust together in close quarters—soon sparks an irresistible heat. But when the charade ends, the danger begins. Will love be enough to protect them from a treacherous plot devised to ruin them?
Other Books by Christi Caldwell
“The Spinster Who Saved a Scoundrel”
Book 5 in the “Brethren” Series by Christi Caldwell
The death of her father leaves Miss Francesca Cornworthy …. alone, and with one last wish to fulfill—that she marry a safe, respectable gentleman. She sets herself on a course to honor that request. That is until she crosses paths with Mr. Lathan Holman—the very opposite type of gentleman her father wished her to wed.
After one mistake earned him the title of traitor, Lathan Holman has no interest in reentering society. Then he meets a quick-witted, sharp-mouthed spinster. His dark past clouds his present and future. He’d been certain he’d never laugh or smile again…but it isn’t long before, he finds himself doing both with Miss Francesca Cornworthy…and wanting more.
“The Minx Who Met Her Match”
Book 4 in the “Brethren” Series by Christi Caldwell
Duncan Everleigh, barrister, widower, father. Accused murderer… Found innocent in the death of his wife, Duncan’s reputation is ruined, his law practice is nearly destroyed, and his daughter hates him. He’s content living for his work. Until one day he meets…
Miss Josephine Pratt…Her life is in tatters. Her oldest brother has brought them to financial ruin. Her betrothed has broken their engagement. Looking to escape, Josephine loses herself in her real passion—her other brother’s law books. A chance meeting in the London streets soon finds her employed by the last man she should, the barrister who’ll be opposing her brother in court.
Soon, Duncan and Josephine, two people who have vowed to never love again, find the protective walls they’ve each built, crumbling. When past secrets threaten to destroy their future, they’ll have to decide if love is enough.
“The Rogue Who Rescued Her”
Book 3 in the “Brethren” Series by Christi Caldwell
Martha Donaldson went from being a nobleman’s wife, and respected young mother, to the scandal of her village. After learning the dark lie perpetuated against her by her ‘husband’, she knows better than to ever trust a man. Her children are her life and she’ll protect them at all costs. When a stranger arrives seeking the post of stable master, everything says to turn him out. So why does she let him stay?
Lord Sheldon Graham Whitworth has lived with the constant reminders of his many failings. The third son of a duke, he’s long been underestimated: that however, proves a valuable asset as he serves the Brethren, an illustrious division in the Home Office. When Graham’s first mission sees him assigned the role of guard to a young widow and her son, he wants nothing more than to finish quickly and then move on to another, more meaningful assignment.
Except, as the secrets between them begin to unravel, Martha’s trust is shattered, and Graham is left with the most vital mission he’ll ever face—winning Martha’s heart.
“The Lady Who Loved Him”
Book 2 in the “Brethren” Series by Christi Caldwell
In this passionate, emotional Regency romance by Christi Caldwell, society’s most wicked rake meets his match in the clever Lady Chloe Edgerton! And nothing will ever be the same!
She doesn’t believe in marriage…
The cruelty of men is something Lady Chloe Edgerton understands. Even in her quest to better her life and forget the past, men always seem determined to control her. Overhearing the latest plan to wed her to a proper gentleman, Chloe finally has enough…but one misstep lands her in the arms of the most notorious rake in London.
The Marquess of Tennyson doesn’t believe in love…
Leopold Dunlop is a ruthless, coldhearted rake… a reputation he has cultivated. As a member of The Brethren, a secret spy network, he’s committed his life to serving the Crown, but his rakish reputation threatens to overshadow that service. When he’s caught in a compromising position with Chloe, it could be the last nail in the coffin of his career unless he’s willing to enter into a marriage of convenience.
