Page 20 of A Deviant Spinster for the Duke
Duncan nodded, feigning consideration. “I understand.” He paused, smirking. “You wish me to turnallof my attention toward infamy. Why, in my pursuits, I might even find a lady who is the same as me. Society would not know what to do with us—a duke and duchess like none the tonhas ever seen before!”
“You are incorrigible,” Vincent said, laughing into his glass of brandy.
Lionel tilted his head. “Or, perhaps, there is some truth in your jest, Lockie. Maybe, in your pursuits, youwillfind a lady—not one who is like you, but one who completes you. A lady you find you cannot be without. A lady who, against all odds, captivates you so greatly that you change your ways.”
“I refer you to an earlier point,” Vincent interjected. “Pigs will fly first.”
Glancing at his friends, Duncan took a small sip of his drink, his mind wandering to thoughts of Valeria.Shewas certainly unlike any lady he had encountered before, and hehadsought to delay the repayment of his debt in order to see her again.
But someone I could not be without? Someone who could make me give up the delightful life I have?He laughed to himself at the very thought, for who in their right mind would exchange variety for repetition? He did not want a dull existence or to abide by expectation, not when tomorrow was not guaranteed for anyone.
“What is so amusing?” Lionel asked, squinting at his friend.
Duncan waved the question away. “Nothing at all.”
Just how ludicrous it would be for me to ever settle…
No, for now, he was quite content to be moving in the opposite direction. After all, if marriage, legacy and boredom were what he wanted, he would have allowed that lady in the gardens to trap him in her net.
Valeria is an amusement, that is all, like reading a good book or listening to a stirring piece of music. It ends, eventually, and you move on to the next.
He downed what was in his glass and poured another, until thoughts of her grew fuzzy around the edges, blurring her into the peaceful fog of inebriation. For reasons he could not andwould not deign to explain, he had a sudden need to drown her out of his mind.
CHAPTER NINE
“Wretched man,” Valeria muttered, jostled this way and that by the carriage as it wended through the dark. “Utterly wretched man.”
Had she been in the illuminated streets of London, the journey would have had its own perils, but out in the countryside, swathed in shadow, the poor driver doing his best to avoid ruts and ditches, her journey held a very different set of dangers. Namely, of the physical, rather than reputational, kind.
I should have joined my friends in the city when I had the chance,she scolded herself.I should have gone with them, carving my own path to marriage.
The letter had arrived that morning in Duncan’s elegant cursive, detailing what her evening’s exploits would look like:
My Dark Angel,
Come to my manor after the sun has set. Thornhill Grange. I believe you know it—you were at my ball a few years ago.
Leave the carriage at the gates. My driver knows where.
You will find the servants’ entrance to the west of the manor, through a courtyard with an apple tree in the middle, past the stables. I will leave the door unlocked. I will leave every door unlocked. But you are not, under any circumstances, to knock. See if you can make me flinch, this time.
Yours,
Lockie
She had not forgotten that ball, where Amelia had worn a gown of garnet red that had shocked everyone in the most glorious way, but shehadforgotten whose ball it was. Try as she might, she could not remember seeing Duncan that night, though that should not have surprised her; he had probably been hidden away with some lady or other.
She hissed rude things with every bump in the road, cursing Duncan’s name… and herself too, for playing along with his game.
All it would have taken was a penned reply, saying that she was quite finished with his ‘help’ and would no longer require his services. A firm ‘thank you’ and an insistence that the debt was cleared, and she would not have been journeying through thedark to a rake’s manor with no chaperone and no idea what she could expect.
Papa would be beside himself if he knew what I was doing.She pressed her palm to her chest, thinking of him. His last letter had arrived with Duncan’s, informing her that he would be away a while longer, apologizing profusely for his extended absence.
He had not saidwhyhe was away and where he was, exactly, but she had filled in the blanks herself. He was trying to find another way to fix the situation. But the longer he was absent, the more she knew that he was failing to find that alternative.
“We’re here, miss!” the driver called down from the box, the carriage rattling to a standstill.
Valeria peered out of the window, unable to see much. What she certainly could not see were the towering gates she recalled from Duncan’s ball, three or so years ago. Indeed, what lay ahead of her seemed to be nothing but hedgerow.
