One Dance with a Duke (Stud Club #1)

“I’m certain you could make it work that way, if you wished. You’re quite free with your chequebook when it suits you.” She cast a glance at the wall they’d so recently buttressed. “I’m holding up my end of the bargain.”


Bile rose in his throat, giving his words an acid tinge. “You’re not with child yet. By that logic, I don’t owe you anything until a son is born.”

“Half,” she said numbly. “I want half in advance. Or there’ll be no son at all.”

“What the devil has come over you? Holding your favors for payment, as if you were a harlot? This conversation is beneath you, Amelia. It’s beneath us both.”

“You’ve driven me to it!” A tear streaked down her face. “Don’t you have the slightest capacity for empathy? Leo was attacked while wandering the same neighborhoods Jack’s frequenting. Jack could so easily have been the one who was killed. I can’t just idly sit by and wait for him to come around. By the time he does, it could be too late. Yes, I would barter my body to save him. I would give my life, if that’s what it took.” Turning away, she buried her face in her hands.

A rough sigh deflated his chest. He closed the distance between them and slid an arm around her shoulders. She flinched, but he held her tight. He might not have possessed a natural talent for this hugging business, but he’d always been a quick study. He stroked a hand down her spine. “Jack doesn’t deserve that kind of devotion.”

“Who truly does?” She ceased struggling and buried her face in his waistcoat, and he folded both arms around her. “But you can’t ask me to stop loving him. It isn’t fair.”

He held her as she cried, trying to come to grips with his own painful conclusion—that he couldn’t ask his wife to stop loving her fool of a brother, any more than he could force her to feel the same for him. He let himself imagine, for a treacherous moment, what it would be like to know that Amelia would do anything for him. Give her last worldly possessions, her body … her life if it came to that. If he were ever so fortunate as to be the recipient of such affection, he damned sure wouldn’t be spurning it to chase idle pleasure in gaming halls.

All he need do was throw some money at Jack, and he’d be in her good graces again. But the whole cycle would just repeat. Sooner or later—most likely sooner—Jack would resurface, having squandered it all, promising to reform if only they’d give him a little more. And Spencer would be forced to refuse, and Amelia would cry …

No amount of reasoning or explanation could change her mind right now. She was too compassionate, too tenderhearted to break the pattern. He had no choice but to be the arrogant, unfeeling villain and do it for her.

“Spencer, please. If you could just talk to—”

“No,” he said firmly. “There will be no discussion, Amelia. My decision is made. I cannot, in good sense or good conscience, give your brother any funds. Now that he’s realized that, I think you’ll find Jack will be the one cutting the ties.”

She cried some more. He would have held her longer, but she pulled away. Instead he just stood there awkwardly, watching her weep. It was a miserable way to pass a quarter hour.

“Well?” she said finally, hugging her arms across her chest. “Where do we go from here?”

“We go to Briarbank. As soon as possible.” At least he could offer her that much consolation—a holiday at her cherished cottage. “Now that Leo’s token is in my possession, it won’t help my cause with Bellamy. More than ever, I need to gather him and Ashworth in one place and talk matters through.”

She stared at the carpet, and he sensed two factions warring within her: the wish to see her home again, and the desire to rebel.

Spencer might not yet have the key to her heart, but he did know the five words that would improve her disposition and win her cooperation. The same ones that must have worked for Jack, time and time again. He played that trump card now. “Amelia, I need your help.”

Her shoulders softened instantly. God, it was so easy, he almost felt guilty about it. She lived to be of service to those around her, to the point that she would deny her own happiness to secure others’. It might be low of him to take advantage, but if it was that or lose her completely …

She wiped her eyes with the back of her hand. “Didn’t Jack tell you? Briarbank is already let for the summer. You’ll have to rethink your house party plan.”

“No, I won’t.”

Her brow crinkled. “You won’t?”

“I …” He sighed. Brilliant. Now he was lying to her. He abhorred deceit, but if he told her the truth now, she would take it all the wrong way. He’d forfeit whatever remaining grain of esteem she might still have for him. “I’ll make them a better offer. Will you still want riding lessons?”

Will you still want to spend time with me?