Page 15 of Never Dare a Duke
Regardless of the duke’s displeasure, Abigail thought it a wonderful idea. It would give her even more reason to be wandering the house, looking into old secrets best left undisturbed.
“You may form teams,” Lady Elizabeth added, “or work on your own.”
Abigail noticed that both Lady May and Lady Theodosia were eyeing the duke with interest. Abigail knew there would be resistance if he tried to withdraw from the competition. The two ladies glared at each other, as if they were about to make their move. Abigail debated maneuvering him into choosing her, but after the awkwardness in the conservatory this afternoon, she doubted he would trust anything she did. She needed to win his trust. No, she could not be his partner.
But whom would he choose?
Chapter 5
After Elizabeth’s announcement, Christopher saw many female eyes turn toward him, while his sister blinked at him with studied innocence. She didn’t know that he’d wanted peace and quiet for the week to finish his project. She wanted something different, success in her first house party, and he could not begrudge her that. Yet now strangers on a ghost hunt would be running through his home, prying into things that didn’t need to be disturbed.
To avoid the expectant look in the three eligible ladies’ eyes, Christopher found himself glancing at Miss Shaw. She looked intrigued and excited, and he didn’t know why he should feel disappointed. Women loved a mystery.
He waited for the others to begin choosing partners, but there was an unnatural silence, and more than one glance his way. Even the men hesitated, as if waiting for Christopher to make the first choice.
He resisted a sigh. “Elizabeth, I am not sure how much I will be able to participate, so it is best I work alone.”
Of his three possible brides, Lady May pouted, Lady Theodosia sighed, but Lady Gwendolin looked away as if unconcerned. He couldn’t decide if perhaps she had a very different strategy for winning him. It was always refreshing when women didn’t openly pursue him.
“After all, ladies,” he said, raising both hands, “how can I play favorites among you?”
Did Miss Shaw’s lips quiver in a smirk before she, too, turned away? She and Lady Gwendolin moved off together, arm in arm, speaking softly. He felt that regardless of what he said, Miss Shaw sensed the real truth beneath his words, almost as if she read his mind.
Lady May and Lady Theodosia now took their turn, advancing in a line like battalions taking formation for battle.
Lady May said, “Your Grace, what an amusing idea your sister has proposed! But surely you cannot enjoy it all alone.”
“Yes, it will be terribly difficult,” he said gravely, “but it only seems fair.”
“Your Grace,” chimed in Lady Theodosia’s calm voice, “perhaps you do not have to choose. Your sister said we could work in teams, so the three of us could—”
“Ladies.” He cut them off with practiced charm. “I will make a poor teammate. I have far too much work to do while I am here. Perhaps the two of you could work together.”
He extricated himself as they gaped at each other in disbelief. These were the women he’d thought interested him the most?
But it was not fair to judge them so harshly. When he’d first met them, they’d seemed so sweet and biddable, lovely and desirable, ideal young women with the right backgrounds. He wanted an innocent, demure noblewoman whom he could easily take care of, as he’d been trying to take care of his family, a woman who would reflect well on everything important to him.
Lady May and Lady Theodosia had had few chances at conversation with him, with their chaperones usually keeping close watch. But now they were showing him a different aspect of themselves. He imagined the pressure they were under from their families to attract good husbands. If it was anything like the pressure his mother was putting on him…
He didn’t want to be here making small talk, not when his mind was elsewhere, and there was work to be done. As the teams were formed, he managed to slip out of the room and reach his own chambers. Rather than enjoying the peace of his home over the next week, he would be dodging ghost-hunting and duke-chasing women.
As he loosened his cravat, he reminded himself that the women he was interested in were still so very young. When he was young, he had never cared how his actions affected his family. He had been wild and hot-blooded, acting before he thought, a Cabot through and through. It had taken a terrible mistake and dire consequences for him to see that he had to make his father proud, to be the one Cabot in control of the family.
Christopher had spent his youth waiting in line for his destiny as a duke, to be respected and held in awe by everyone. But he hadn’t imagined how solitary he would feel, as if he weren’t just a man but an object desired for social betterment, for political assistance—or for marriage.
So he held himself under the strictest command, doing his duty to the king, his country, and his family, holding back every impulse churning to be set free. He knew where such undisciplined emotions led. Only with the occasional willing female did he allow himself to experience true passion. He had never had a mistress—too many chances for difficulties that would reflect badly on him. But to certain willing women, of a lower class than his own, he could be quite generous, with both his money and his body. But only for a night or two, never more. Those rare moments of passion, when he indulged his senses, forgot who and what he was, were a release in more ways than one.
But the rest of the time he only let most people see what they expected, the proper duke of Madingley, in control of his family and their independent ways. He’d grown up close to his cousins, Matthew Leland and Daniel Throckmorten, who’d been at his side from his wild youth to his proper adulthood. But Matthew had died last year serving the queen’s army in India, leaving a grieving bride, and Daniel had just married last month. Christopher was on his own. Even Daniel did not know the secret that Christopher had been keeping, the newest way he’d found to release the part of himself that yearned for expression. And Christopher planned to keep it that way.
Someone knocked on the door, and he gave a start. Since it could not possibly be one of his bridal targets, he called for the person to enter.
His mother closed the door and leaned against it, watching him with concern. “You retired rather early.”
“I have so much ghost research to do,” he said lightly.
She finally smiled. “Do not tease your poor sister. She was looking for a way to make her house party stand out, and she has certainly done so. You should allow yourself to relax.”
He shrugged. “I’ll try.”
