Page 33 of Taken By the Broken Duke
Opinion delivered and leave taken. Hall did it all in a rush, then spun to leave. The Big Library was what he called Ravenscourt’s King’s Library, named for the coronation of George I, long ago. Descended from Jacobites, Hall toasted the Stuart Pretender and refused to give the Library its proper name, lest he be giving respect to a dynasty of usurpers.
Horatio smiled, amused by the little rebellion. He remembered the fanciful portrait of Bonnie Prince Charlie which had hung above the fireplace in the common room of the Royal Oak, Hall’s doomed inn. Every night before closing, Hall raised a toast to it and encouraged his patrons to do the same in exchange for a free drink.
All gone now.
The thought of that place brought back the familiar ache to the scars on his spine. He pondered Hall’s words for a moment, draining the last of his tea. It was true to say that it would be harder to put Juliet aside if they had become friends. Or evenlovers? That was a thought never far from his mind, sleeping or waking. Such beauty he hadn’t encountered since… ever.
The idea of being married to her in name and therefore able to make love to her with no risk of scandal or approbation was attractive. More than attractive. It was a thought to quicken the breath and send fire through his veins.
His arms held the memory of her slender body just as his eyes refused to give up the image of her pale, naked skin. Or the way her shift had betrayed her femininity, clinging to her body, hiding and revealing all the same.
The fact that he had stood practically naked before her was almost as exciting. Had she had the same thoughts upon the sight of him as he had about her? If that was the case, then she was a fiery, wanton devil and he would gladly revel in the fires of damnation for eternity for one night with her.
Horatio sighed, closing his eyes, and trying to focus his mind on the matter at hand. The plan was simple. Marry her quietly and let the scandal die down. Instead of a rogue assaulting a lady, the scene witnessed by his guests at the ball would become two lovers unable to contain themselves. The gossips would move on, helped by the arch-gossip-in-chief, the Regent himself. His court would not allow stale news.
Once the Templeton name was out of their minds, he would just as quietly end the marriage and give Juliet a cottage somewhere far off to live quietly and anonymously. The Godwins wouldbe compensated well for their cooperation and Horatio had no doubt they would not complain.
That was the plan.
He needed to stick to it and put all thoughts of Juliet’s beauty and wonderful eccentricities from his mind. It did not matter that he had never met a woman like her. It was irrelevant that no beauty had ever inflamed him to this degree. It mattered not that he had desired her from the moment he laid eyes on her. None of that was part of the plan.
He left the room, resolved not to be further distracted, keeping Juliet as far from his mind as he could.
Lady Margaret did not rise from her chair as Horatio entered the King’s Library.
A full-length portrait of the first Hanoverian King hung over the fireplace, above a copy of his royal standard and the Union flag, which had been created during the reign of George’s predecessor. Tall bookcases lined the library’s stone walls and high windows set floods of daylight over them into the center of the room. A cluster of furniture around the fireplace provided a warm and comfortable place to read, while the arrangement of smaller bookcases and tables provided quiet nooks around the room for private study.
Frances stood and curtsied to Horatio. Her mother did not look at him. She sat with her hands folded on her lap, glaring into the fire. Horatio positioned himself opposite her, taking a seat in an armchair, crossing his legs with arms draped on either side.
It was a pose of supreme arrogance and chosen deliberately. He did not like Lady Swindon and wanted to antagonize her as much as possible. Such was his confidence in her avarice that he had no doubt that no amount of obnoxious behavior on his part would drive her away.
“Well?” Horatio began.
Lady Margaret sniffed and looked away.
“You requested an audience. I do not desire it. So speak,” Horatio repeated.
“…Mymotherwishes to discuss today’s events with you,” Frances offered, demurely.
She wore a dress of white and silver which bared her shoulders and bosom. Her dark hair cascaded back, held from her face by a silver tiara so delicate in appearance that it seemed a breath would break it. Upon her chest lay a necklace that held a ruby at its apex. The stone sat perfectly between her breasts and invited the male eye lower. Horatio refused to be drawn.
“Today’s events? I was not aware of anything of significance,” Horatio remarked.
“What I mean to say is… that is to say… the way that you and…” Frances began, stammering as though unsure of which words to use.
“The way you and my niece cavorted for all the world to see like a pair of savages,” Lady Margaret snapped, “it was quite scandalous. Quite unacceptable.”
“Thenleave,” Horatio muttered, calling her bluff. “I do not wish for any of you to be here.”
“If we leave, then the fires of scandal will roll over this house and consume it and your good name. All that will be left will be ashes,” Lady Margaret said, portentously.
“Andthe Godwins will be poorer, having missed an opportunity at a union with the wealth of Ravenscourt. Not to mention the prestige of a family that has counted more than one sovereign as its friend,” Horatio countered.
“A prestige that currently hangs by a thread,” Lady Margaret retorted. “Wealth can be come by. Your name is hardly an enticement.”
Horatio could not deny the logic of her argument. He narrowed his eyes, waiting for the inevitable ultimatum. If Lady Margaret had decided that the insult given by his behaviour was too great, she would already have taken her leave. She was still here and wanted to talk.
“As you clearly have nothing to say in your defense, I shall speak further,” Lady Margaret continued, “I think that your notion of marrying my niece has been shown to be a foolish one. I would not normally speak so to a social superior, but I am sure you would agree that your behavior has been rather reprehensible—”
