One Dance with a Duke (Stud Club #1)

“Oh, yes. I believe he thinks he is.”


“What do you mean?”

“We’ve had a friendship for years, but it’s never been anything more. Then when Leo died …” Lily’s shoulders hunched. “I think Julian’s grief and guilt are exaggerating the depth of his attachment to me. He couldn’t save Leo, so he feels obligated to protect me.”

“You don’t think he’ll act on his feelings? Or imagined feelings?”

Lily shook her head. “No.”

“Just as well, then,” Amelia said, hoping that her friend did not return the man’s affections. Nothing good could come of such a match. Lily was a refined, delicate lady from one of England’s most noble families. Julian Bellamy was a hellraiser of indiscriminate origins. That alone wouldn’t lower him in Amelia’s estimation, but she didn’t quite trust the man. Mr. Bellamy couldn’t be too terribly in love with Lily, if he’d been bedding another woman—a married woman—the night Leo died.

“You know you’ll never lack for a place to live,” Amelia continued. “You’re always welcome to stay with me and Spencer.”

“That’s very kind of you. And Spencer.” Lily gave her a sly look. “Did I not say he would make you a fine husband?”

Amelia blushed, turning the dough and slapping it to the table. “Yes, you did. And it took some time, but he eventually proved you right.”

“I’m so happy for you.”

Amelia was happy, too. But it seemed uncouth to gush on about it, when Lily was still mourning her brother.

At the thought of brothers, her own heart gave a twinge. More than ever, she hoped this holiday could lay the foundations of reconciliation between Spencer and Jack. Though Spencer remained his usual reserved self, Amelia noticed the signs of her husband warming to Briarbank’s beautiful scenery and homely atmosphere. She understood now that he’d been raised on a series of British forts in Canada, then transferred straight to the grandeur of Braxton Hall. He’d never known the comforts of a cozy home and affectionate family. After their time here, surely he would understand why Amelia couldn’t turn her back on a member of her own.

She asked, “Are you certain you don’t mind sharing with Claudia? It’s such a small cottage, only four bedchambers. But if you do mind, we can put someone in the—”

“It’s fine,” Lily interrupted. “I’m grateful for the company. Even the taciturn variety.”

Amelia sighed. “She never talks, does she? I don’t know how to reach out to her.” She felt a pinch guilty for turning Claudia away from the library that afternoon. She wondered if Spencer had ever caught up with her, to find out what she’d wanted. The coaches had arrived so soon thereafter; he might not have had the chance. “I have to admit, that’s why I put the two of you together. Perhaps you can succeed where I’ve failed. I’ve tried and tried making friends with her, but she only becomes more withdrawn.”

She punched down the dough. Her failure to win over Claudia had her frustrated and, yes, a bit resentful. Strolls along the river, pianoforte duets, even trips to the shops—the girl rejected her every suggestion. She didn’t know what more to do.

After setting the bread aside to rise a final time, she clapped the flour from her hands and turned to wash them in the basin.

While her back was turned, she heard Lily say, “What a surprise! I didn’t know you’d be joining us.”

Had the men returned from the river so soon? It couldn’t be Mr. Bellamy—she still heard a haunting melody emanating from the pianoforte. Shaking her hands to dry them, Amelia turned around.

What she saw made her knees go weak.

“Hullo, Amelia.”

“Jack?” For a moment, she thought she was seeing a ghost. The phantom of Jack’s fourteenth summer, when he’d shot up four inches in six weeks and devoured every scrap of food in the house before picking the nearest trees clean of green apples, too. But of course she wasn’t seeing a boy, nor a ghost. This was truly her brother standing awkwardly in the middle of the kitchen, like a stranger in his own house. He looked haggard, gaunt. His clothes hung loose on his frame, giving him that boyish, bony appearance. Dark shadows haunted his eyes, and his last shave had been at least three days ago.

Her eyes welled. The tears streaked down her cheeks before she could get them back.

“Oh, come now. Is that any way to greet your favorite brother?”