Page 1 of The Duke of Ruin
Chapter 1
December 1817
He really hopedhe wouldn’t have to kidnap her.
Simon Hastings, twelfth Duke of Romsey, rode his horse along Curzon Street until he found the house in which Miss Diana Kingman resided. Spotting it, he rode past—he had no intention of calling—and formulated a plan. With many, many contingencies, one of which would be kidnaping, but he dearly prayed it wouldn’t come to that. He didn’t know Miss Kingman well, but from what he did know, she possessed a sound mind and more reason than most women her age.
Her lips were also incredibly soft.
He ought not know that, of course, but as a result of some silly games they’d played at a house party several weeks before, he was well acquainted with her mouth and the way she smelled—like honeysuckle buzzing with bees eager to taste its sweetness.
Was he a bee?
Simon shook his head. He couldn’t be a bee to Miss Kingman’s flower. Or anyone else with a “miss” in front of her name. Hell, he’d be lucky to find a woman who could bear to look at him without flinching. And if he did, he might just have to marry her on the spot.
He nearly laughed at the thought. It was more than likely he wouldn’t marry again, not after the tragedy of his first union.
Shaking the maudlin thoughts away, as he did every day, he focused on his plan as it came together in his mind. He made his way back to his town house in Berkeley Square and scratched off a missive, which was immediately delivered to Miss Kingman. Then he went back out and walked to Green Park to wait.
The day was gray and cold, and Simon was quite chilled by the time Miss Kingman strolled into the park nearly an hour later, a maid trailing her by several paces. She paused, scanning the area and moving right past him. She continued onto the path, her head moving as she looked for Nick—that is, the Duke of Kilve and Simon’s closest friend. And also Miss Kingman’s fiancé. Orformerfiancé.
Simon stood from the bench on which he’d been lounging and made his way toward her. As he neared, recognition flickered across her face, and she stopped.
She offered a curtsey. “Your Grace.”
“Good afternoon, Miss Kingman. How lovely to see you here. Might we ask your maid to sit on the bench while we take a turn?” He didn’t want the retainer overhearing anything he said.
Miss Kingman was a lovely young woman, with an emphasis on the word young. She couldn’t be much past twenty. Petite of stature, she possessed dark, nearly black hair and vivid blue eyes. “I’m supposed to meet His Grace, the Duke of Kilve.”
His note had invited her to meet Nick. “I know. He asked me to come in his stead.”
Her eyes widened. “Is he all right?”
Damn. She cared for him. This was going to be painful. “He’s, ah, fine. Shall we walk?”
She turned and walked to her maid. After speaking with her for a moment, the retainer went to the bench, where she perched on the edge. Miss Kingman returned to Simon’s side.
He offered her his arm, and she stared at it a moment before taking it. “See, that wasn’t so bad, was it?”
“I wasn’t reluctant to take your arm,” she said coolly. “I’m merely trying to puzzle why you’re here and not Kilve. Furthermore, I’m trying to determine why Kilve wanted to meet me here.”
“It’s a rather delicate matter.” Simon walked with her along the path and tried to choose his words carefully. “You recall Lady Pendleton? From the house party.”
That was where Simon had met Miss Kingman. And Lady Pendleton.
“Of course. Is something amiss with her?”
“There was—she had an accident—but she’s all right now, I believe. That isn’t the issue, however.” He grimaced. “There just isn’t a good way to say this, I’m afraid. Nick and Violet—Lady Pendleton—were acquainted in the past.Wellacquainted.” He gave Miss Kingman a pointed look. “They were in love.”
Miss Kingman slowed but didn’t stop. “I see.”
“They are still in love. It’s quite a romantic tale. Er, except for the part where Nick can’t marry you.”
She was quiet a moment, but Simon felt the tension in her as her hand briefly tightened around his arm. “If he’s in love with her, why did he agree to marry me?”
“That is, ah, where things grow complicated. We men sometimes behave poorly when love is involved. I know it makes no sense, but because he was overwhelmed with love for Violet, he felt as though he had to leave her. He was afraid. And foolish.”
“And I’m going to pay the price for that, apparently,” she said with considerable aversion. “He sent you to tell me this?”
