One Dance with a Duke (Stud Club #1)

“Precisely what gave you that impression? The part where Bellamy accused me of murder? Or the part where I ground him into the carpet? I took my swings at Ashworth years ago, no need to revisit those.”


“No,” she said evenly. “The part where I asked if you’d nothing more important in your lives than a silly club and a handful of tokens, and the three of you discovered a sudden fascination with your boots.” Her arms tightened around his waist. “Maybe you’re not friends, not yet. But if you expend the time and effort to make friends with them, they’ll give you what you want.”

“Are you mad? They believe I killed Leo.”

“Lord Ashworth doesn’t. And Mr. Bellamy’s investigation will clear your name any day now.”

“It may not. Amelia, I turned that neighborhood upside down and shook it with vigor. There’s a very real possibility Leo’s killers will never be found.”

“Then you will prove yourself and earn their trust. Just give them a chance to know you, the same as you’ve done with me.” Her lips curved in a smile. “Much as it might pain you to do it, you’d save yourself a great deal of trouble simply by revealing your most deeply buried secret of all.”

“Oh? And what’s that?”

She touched his cheek with the back of her hand. “That against all reports to the contrary, you’re a decent, kind, shockingly likable man. At least …” She paused. “I know I’m coming to like you, a great deal.”

What a sweet thing she was. Not innocent or naïve, just … truly good-hearted. Only the most generous of souls could conceive of such a thing—three men putting aside class, fortune, hatred, and suspicion and becoming the sort of friends who traded heartfelt secrets over port. Even men who weren’t divided by class, fortune, hatred, and suspicion didn’t trade heartfelt secrets over port. That’s what made them men.

But staring into those clear blue eyes, he almost wished he could make it happen, just for her.

And suddenly, a thought came to him. The best idea he’d had since proposing to this woman. By God, every once in a while he scared himself with his own brilliance.

He couldn’t help but grin with self-satisfaction as he asked, “Would you do me a very great favor?”

“Ask me, and see.”

“I want to have a house party. Just a small one,” he added in a rush, before her eager gasp of excitement carried her away. “I’ll invite both Ashworth and Bellamy, and the three of us will hash out this business once and for all.” Not in the way Amelia was envisioning, but she need never know. That part would take place behind closed doors. But to execute his plan, he needed the other men loosened up first. Relaxed, well fed, content, and complacent. “I need a hostess. Do you mind?”

“I’d be delighted, and you know it. But only two guests, in such a grand house as Braxton Hall?”

“No, not here. I think it’s best if we meet on neutral ground.” Here was the truly brilliant part. “I’m thinking of renting a summer property. I’ve heard there’s a cottage for lease, in Gloucestershire.”

Gripping his shoulders, she pulled back to stare at him.

“The rent’s horribly inflated,” he went on. “Four hundred pounds, for a summer cottage? For that price, it had better not be drafty.”

Her fingers laced behind his neck. “Briarbank is the loveliest cottage you ever saw. And only the slightest bit drafty.” She launched herself into his arms. “Oh, Spencer. You’ll love it there. It’s beautiful country, with the valley and the river. You can take the men angling. May I invite Lily? She told me she’d be returning to Harcliffe Manor, and it’s quite nearby. I’m sure she’d be glad for the company.”

“I don’t see why not.” In fact, the idea struck him as fortuitous. If anyone could make that idiot Bellamy see sense, it might be Lily Chatwick.

“Will Claudia go with us?”

“Yes, of course.” There was no way he could leave her behind.

“Oh, good. Then my dinner table will have equal numbers of ladies and gentlemen. And it will be so good for her. For you both. No one can be unhappy at Briarbank, it simply isn’t possible.” She slid back to the ground. “When can we leave?”

He laughed at her impatience. “Not for a few weeks, at least. I’ll need to make arrangements, and so will you, I imagine. And in the meantime”—he stroked her back—“we’ll be occupied with your riding lessons. It’s three days by carriage to Gloucestershire, and you’ll be miserable if you can’t ride part of the way.”

She nodded in acquiescence, catching her plump lower lip between her teeth. Oh, how he needed to kiss that mouth.