One Dance with a Duke (Stud Club #1)

“Yes,” she said softly. “I understand.”


He winced, hating himself for ever making her feel that way. “No matter our arguments,” he said, “I had tremendous respect for your father, and for my own father, as well. They were good, honorable men, and exceedingly loyal. When your mother died, your father could have married again, with hopes of getting a son of his own to assume the title. But he couldn’t bear the idea of remarrying, that’s how much he loved your mother. So he sent for me from Canada instead, and I gave him so much hell in those first few years, it’s a wonder he didn’t reconsider. But he never did remarry. And neither did my father, after my own mother died. That’s why I wouldn’t like to see you trapped in an unhappy union, Claudia. Love, for a Dumarque, is not a passing fancy. We remain devoted to the grave.”

“You feel that way about Amelia?”

“Yes,” he said simply. No matter how many differences he’d had with his father and his uncle, here was one thing they shared in common. He was a Dumarque man at his core. He would love one woman until he died, and there could never be another. God help him if she didn’t feel the same.

Claudia looked askance at him. “If you truly feel that way, you could do a better job of showing it.”

“You’re right,” he agreed. “I could do a better job of it with you, too. I plan to improve.”

Her eyes shimmered. “Do you plan to start soon?”

When he was seventeen years old, Spencer had spent five miserable weeks aboard a two-masted brig to cross the Atlantic Ocean. That trip had been a pleasant afternoon jaunt compared to the arduous journey he made now. He rose from his chair, crossed the vast expanse of the library carpet, and sat down beside his ward.

He placed a hand on her shoulder. “Whatever you decide, Claudia, you will always have a home here. And you will always be loved.”

She started to weep. He hoped they were a good sort of tears. Regardless, he slid his arm around her shoulders and gathered her into a hug.

He felt rather proud of himself for it, but evidently he still needed practice to perfect the art. After a moment, Claudia sniffed and said, “I miss Amelia.”

He gathered her even closer then, because he needed to be hugged back. “I miss her, too.”

“When is she coming home?”

“I don’t know. She may not come back to Braxton Hall.”

Claudia straightened, pulling back to stare at him. “Whatever do you mean? Go fetch her!”

“But … I’m not certain exactly where she is at the moment.”

“You’re the Duke of Morland. Find her!”

“I’m not sure she wants to be found.” He could scarcely believe he was discussing this with Claudia … but then again, who else did he have to ask? “I bullied her quite a bit at the outset, and I don’t want to make the same mistake again. I miss her, yes. But I want her to be happy most of all. If she comes back, I want her to come freely. Willingly.”

Her eyes went wide. “Then convince her. Fall at her feet and grovel. Make some grand gesture of apology. Tell her that sweet little story you just told me and profess your undying love. Really, Spencer, don’t you know anything about romance?”

Chapter Twenty-three

It was a fine summer morning on the Bristol docks, and for once a ray of fortune was shining on the d’Orsays. A merchant brigantine called the Angelica sailed with the tide, bound for Boston.

Jack would be on it.

Amelia’s nose wrinkled as she squinted at her brother through the blaring midday sun. She wished she’d thought to purchase him a hat with a wider brim. With his fair skin, he’d be crisped to currant red after one day at sea.

“Well?” he said.

In a last sisterly gesture, she smoothed the lint from Jack’s coat sleeves with her gloved hands. “What a grand adventure you’re going to have. I believe Hugh would be very envious.”

“I like to think he’s coming with me.”

“Perhaps he is.” She threw her arms around her brother and hugged him tight. “I love you,” she whispered fiercely. “Don’t ever dream otherwise. But I just can’t take care of you any longer. It’s time you learned to take care of yourself.”

“I know,” he said. “I know.”

She pulled back and withdrew a small bundle from her reticule. The knotted handkerchief contained a heavy clutch of coins. “Your passage is already paid. This is all I have to give you for expenses.”

“Thank you,” he said, reaching for the makeshift purse of gold and silver. “I’ll do my best not to lose it the first night out from land.”