Page 2 of In Need of a Duke
“Will you leave him alone?”
His father snapped the line, then cursed. “That’s the second fish I’ve missed today because of you. Your brother will be fine.”
Fine, yes, but probably lonely. Only God knew how lonely Ian was.
“I heard you met Lord Fairbanks’s daughter and wrote her letters.”
“I asked permission.” Ian shrugged, growing uncomfortable. Strange that his father wanted nothing to do with him, but now he wanted to know who had caught his eye. It was harmless. A chance meeting at a social over ices. “She’s very pretty,” he said at last.
“And she’s two years older than you. Ready to make her debut.”
He had kissed her, loving the way the taste of lemon lingered on her lips. The taste of her was nearly… Oh, the others had teased him since, but he found he didn’t care. It was like he had discovered a secret the other boys didn’t know.
The trees overhead swayed in the warm summer breeze. Light filtered through, dancing on his riding boots. Later, he would seek outNathaniel and go swimming. “That is all true,” Ian admitted. “That doesn’t change?—”
“It changes everything! You will be the duke, and it’s best you know that every woman will want to marry you because you have money and power. They will do whatever they can to trap you and land you as a husband.”
Ian looked away, not wishing to discuss this with his father. It felt impossible to be loved if you were to be a duke. He sort of hated the title, not that he would share the admission with anyone. He would uphold the duty, honor the family's legacy, but it was clear he must guard his heart.
But what was his father’s excuse for leaving?
“You don’t want her,” his father said, finally hooking a fish. He reeled it in slowly, leaned down, and pulled a large trout from the river. “You’re never to lie with a girl like that. Not now. Not at sixteen. Christ, you’re daft. Doesn’t surprise me. All your good sense has been knocked out of your head.”
Ian touched the corner of his lip, which smarted. It was the third time this year.
“I'll see if someone can arrange a visit to a brothel the next time you’re in London.”
If his father was as uncomfortable as he was at that moment, the man didn’t show it. Instead, he gripped the fish in his large, meaty hand and tossed it into a basket.
“Father, this is not necessary.”
“I have done my duty and supplied my heir, Ian. Now, I’ll give you a bit of advice, and don’t you damn well forget it. You need to learn how to touch a woman properly, and then you need to learn to leave them until you need a wife because, when you fall in love, that's when your life is over. You will be the Duke of Dandridge one day, and when you're older, every mother in London will throw their daughter at your feet by any means necessary, like some sacrificial lamb. And you will be a damn fool if you choose to wed for your heart. Their heart is never in it, no matter how well they lie. And they all lie, Son.”
London
January 1818
There werea hundred reasons why Charlotte preferred plants, but above all, they were quiet.
The Cranbourne’s ballroom was lively as the night nearly reached the stroke of midnight, and she had managed to successfully adhere herself to the damask wallcovering as debutante after debutante was asked for a dance by all the eligible bachelors of theton. She remained, hiding, waiting for the hawks to stop circling.
And by some stroke of luck, her mother, the Countess of Drake, was preoccupied with gossiping among her friends, allowing Charlotte to all but disappear.
That is until Kate Bancroft.
“Come dance,” her friend said, sticking her bottom lip out in the perfect pout. Under the candlelight, the freckles across Kate’s cheeks only made her brilliant green eyes more noticeable.
“Shh,” Charlotte snapped, looking around her nervously.
Kate, all tall grace, tittered. “Lily is hiding in the library if that’s what you wish to do with your time.”
A few of the matriarchs glanced behind their seats toward the pair of friends and frowned.
“I wish not to be here.”
“Then where?”
“I should ask where you disappeared to. I saw you last dancing with Lord Parker.”
