Her White Wedding: Dark Duke’s Legacy Read online

  As Esme watched, Lord Reeves pulled Declan to the side, leaving Esme and Charlotte to speak privately.

  Charlotte watched Lord Reeves and her brother as they bent their heads low, talking amongst the crowd. “What do you think they’re discussing?”

  “You, of course.” Esme gave the young woman’s fingers a squeeze. “Lord Reeves is enamored with you.”

  Charlotte’s brown eyes sparkled. “Do you think so, truly?”

  “Truly.” Esme gave the other woman a soft smile. Lord Reeves was handsome enough, successful, and smitten. Esme felt a pang for her past self. If only she’d met a man like that in her first season. How different would her life be? But then she wouldn’t have Caleb and she couldn’t imagine life without him. “He’ll make a fine husband.”

  Charlotte flushed, a pretty shade of pink that highlighted her dark brown hair and eyes, so much like her brother’s. “You don’t really think…” Charlotte looked at Lord Reeves through her lashes. The man gave a silly grin back.

  “I do.” Esme gave a small laugh. “But don’t be afraid to hold out, just for a bit, to make certain you wish for him in return.”

  Charlotte’s lips parted. “Is that what you’re doing with my brother?”

  That made Esme start. “I…” Heat filled her cheeks. That’s what she got for embarrassing Charlotte.

  “I didn’t mean to pry,” Charlotte whispered, her head bending forward. “It’s just that I haven’t seen my brother this animated in quite some time.”

  A little thrill stole through her. “Really?”

  “Oh yes.” Charlotte gave her a hand a quick squeeze. “I love my brother dearly, he’s a good man but…”

  “But what?”

  Charlotte stepped closer. “After Abby—” Her voice dropped lower. “He stopped living. Happily, anyway.”

  “Abby? Is that the woman who accepted the proposal from the titled lord?”

  Charlotte’s eyes widened. “He really does like you if he’s told you about her.”

  Esme pressed her cool fingers to her heated face. “He was rather clear about not wanting marriage.”

  Charlotte shook her head. “Silly man. He isn’t happy.”

  Esme shook her head as she peeked around Charlotte to look at Declan once again. “He seems like a man who can accomplish anything he sets his mind to.”

  Abby gave her wide grin at that. “He is. You should see how he’s built up his business. The problem is his stubbornness. Once he’s set his mind against something, it’s so difficult to change.”

  That made Esme cringe inwardly. Did she want a stubborn man? Much as she liked his confident nature, she couldn’t bash ineffectually against a man so much harder than herself. She was already battered deep in her heart.

  Declan was obligated to see Esme home first and then return his sister to his brother’s home.

  As a marquess, his duties were substantial, which was why Declan helped by escorting Charlotte as often as he could.

  But tonight, he’d not just drop Charlotte and return home, he needed to speak with the head of the family about their sister.

  But as he saw Charlotte in, he found Marcus up waiting for both of them. “You’ll never guess what Declan did this evening,” Charlotte cried with a giggle the moment they made it into the entry.

  “Pray tell, dear sister,” Marcus asked, his brows rising. An older version of Declan, his brother was beginning to grey at the temples, but he was still a handsome man.

  “He escorted the Dowager Duchess of Whitehaven in addition to myself this evening.”

  His brother’s brows rose as his eyes met Declan’s. Declan should have been prepared for Charlotte to air his business, but he’d been too lost in his own thoughts. “She’s a friend. Nothing more.”

  “Fiddlesticks.” Charlotte tapped his chest with her fan. “You should see him when she’s near. He practically glows with happiness.”

  Marcus’s cocked his head to the side. “Esme?” He’d been married for the past eight years and had three children.

  But at the use of Esme’s given name, Declan’s feathers ruffled with jealousy. “What of it?”

  “Nothing.” And then a slow grin spread over Marcus’s face. He said no more on the subject, looking at Charlotte, instead. “And how did you enjoy the dinner party?”

  Charlotte looked at her toes, but she didn’t quite hide her own flush of happiness. “It was fine.”

  Marcus looked back at Declan as he gestured for both siblings to join him in the sitting room.

  They talked for the better part of an hour before Charlotte excused herself to retire, leaving Marcus and Declan alone.

  “May I ask the real reason for this late-night visit?” Marcus sat swirling a glass of brandy as he looked at his younger brother.

  Declan cleared his throat. “Reeves. He’s coming to calling hours tomorrow. He plans to ask your permission to court.”

  Marcus gave a quick nod. “Thank you for the warning.”

  “You’re welcome.”

  “Tell me, you know the man, correct?”

  “I do.”

  Marcus shifted in his seat. “Is he good enough?”

  “He’s heir to an earldom.”

  Marcus waved his hand. “I mean personally. Is he a good man? Will he make Charlotte happy?”

  Something in Declan softened. He was glad his brother considered more than just the title of the man who’d be their sister’s husband. Esme’s regrets were so palpable, he’d not want that for Charlotte. If he were honest, he wanted better for Esme too. “I think so. But I also think Charlotte capable of making the decision.”

  Marcus gave him a quick nod of understanding. “Good.” Then he leaned forward. “And you? Are you considering the widow?”

  Declan grimaced. He did not want a heart-to-heart with his older brother. “I’m not certain I’ll marry at all.”

  “That isn’t what I asked, is it?”

  Declan glared. “The title has gone to your head.”

  “It went to my head years ago.”

  He couldn’t help it, Declan’s brows rose. “Is that so?”

  “Right about the time I had to paddle you when you hit me with a cricket bat.”

  Declan let out a bark of laughter, the memory washing over him. Which tugged at another. Esme’s son asking him to teach him how to play and Esme’s assertion that the boy needed a man to help raise her son.

  She was right.

  Their father had been ill even then, but Marcus, nine years older, had been the role model and mentor that Declan had needed.

  It didn’t have to be a father, a brother could suffice. As Esme planned. Or a stepfather…

  “Tell me what you know about Esme?”

  Marcus sat back in his chair, letting out a long breath. “I had just started my search for a bride when she came out.” His gaze flicked to his brother. “For a brief moment, I considered her.”

  Declan gave a nod, squashing the rising tide of jealousy. “She has a good temperament for a marchioness.”

  Marcus gave the faintest nod. “She was engaged before I could blink.”

  “Ambitious too,” Declan murmured, taking a healthy swallow of his own beverage. It shouldn’t bother him. Whatever mistakes she’d made, she certainly didn’t wish to repeat them. But somehow, it rankled that she had once been like Abby.

  Marcus shook her head. “Maybe. She didn’t strike me as ambitious, just sweet. Her mama on the other hand…”

  Declan’s stomach dropped. How had that not occurred to him? Marriage-minded mothers were a force to be reckoned with and Esme would be the sort of daughter to go with her mother’s wishes.

  His eyes fluttered closed. She’d paid a hell of a price for her mother’s victory. A wave of sympathy washed over him. And then one of guilt. He’d accused her…

  He shook his head. He’d been completely wrong.

  Had he also been wrong when he’d declared he’d never marry?

  Chapter Six

  The next day, Esme sat out in the garden enjoying a bit of autumn sun. Well, she enjoyed the sun, lounging on a blanket they’d spread near a large maple. Caleb swung a stick at the tops of various plants, regaling her with stories about Justice.

  The boy was infatuated beyond measure with his older brothers.

  Esme rubbed her cheek as she frowned. Who could blame the boy? After the death of his emotionally distant father, four strong and loving men had entered her son’s life. And now they’d gone again.

  He wanted them back.

  “And then, I heard, that Justice took a bullet in the arm, Mama, in order to save Violet.”

  “My goodness,” she started, sitting up. “Where did you hear that story?” While true, it was not entirely appropriate for a little boy’s ears.

  “Sayden told me when last he came to see us in London.” The boy took another swing at an unsuspecting plant. “Someday I shall save a woman just like that and she’ll fall madly in love with me.”

  “Madly in love?” she asked with a quirk of her brow.

  “Yes.” He nodded solemnly. Then he stopped. “Does that mean I shall have to kiss her?”

  She smothered a smile, knowing full well he’d rather kiss frogs than girls. “I suspect that it will.”

  He let out a heavy breath. “Sayden doesn’t mind Samantha’s kisses. Do men actually like that sort of thing?”

  “They do.”

  He stuck out his tongue, wrinkling his nose. “Are you sure? It seems like one of those things a girl might like and so she thinks boys like it too.”

  That nearly made her laugh out loud. From the other side of the garden, she heard not one but two male chuckles. She looked up to see her butler and Declan standing on the other side of the grassy area.

  Something warmed in her, as Caleb spun. “Lord Parker,” he called, waving his stick. “Have you come to teach me cricket?”

  “I have,” came Declan’s answer.

  She sat straighter, smoothing the muslin folds of her gown. He’d sent word that he’d visit this afternoon, but she hadn’t expected him so early and she’d spent much of the morning wondering what this visit might be about.

  Caleb gave a whoop and then started for the house, surely intent upon getting the bat and ball. Then he skidded to a stop. “Wait. Are you any good?”

  “Caleb,” she admonished. “That isn’t polite.”

  Her son’s chin lifted in a mutinous tilt, looking for all the world like a miniature version of one of his brothers.

  “Caleb.” Declan placed a light hand her son’s shoulder. His voice rang with authority but not anger. “Best apologize so that we can have a pleasant time.”

  His chin lowered. “Sorry, Mama.”

  “I believe your apology should go to Lord Parker.”

  He gave a quick nod. “Apologies, Lord Parker.”

  In answer, Declan ruffled his hair. “Accepted. Now go get the bat.”

  Esme remained on the blanket for the next hour as Declan, calmly, easily taught her son how to hit a cricket ball with a bat. Throughout the lessons, he peppered Caleb with other cricket rules about wickets and bowlers. Caleb seemed to soak up the lesson with an intensity that surprised even her.

  Declan had peeled off his coat and cravat at the beginning, but as the lesson went on, he loosened his shirt and rolled up his sleeves. She watched the muscles of his forearms flexing with every subtle move.

  She got tantalizing glimpses of his chest muscles and a bit of hair that came out of the V in the garment.

  She also got a liberal view of the thick cords of his neck, muscles rippling as he moved, laughed, talked. She had the distinct urge to kiss every one of them. Run her lips along them, tasting his skin and…she blinked away her carnal thoughts. Where had they come from?

  Perhaps his kiss? Or was it the promise that kissing could be even better?

  She pushed up to sitting and grabbed her nearby fan, snapping it open and fanning her heated skin.

  “Your mother’s right,” Declan rumbled. “It’s getting quite warm in the afternoon sun. Time for a break.”

  “What?” Caleb cried in outrage. “A break? Now? We’ve barely begun!”

  “Since you have so much energy,” she called, “go in and ask for a tray of tea and treats.”

  Her son gave her a grin, treats being his favorite, and trotted off to deliver her message to the kitchen. Which meant, that as Declan approached the blanket, his body a mixture of raw male energy, broad shoulders, and a tapered waist, they were alone.

  She swallowed as she arranged her skirts about her ankles carefully covering the glimpse of her legs. While she could see a great deal of his skin, she suddenly felt shy about her own. Of course, her husband had seen her. His one comment had been, “You’ll do.”

  And once she’d become pregnant, he’d stopped coming to her bed, which had been a relief. But there was a part of her that had felt as though…she wasn’t enough.

  Declan settled next to her, reclined and propped up on one elbow. He looked…divine.

  She pressed her palm to her skirts, working out invisible wrinkles as heat spread up her neck.

  Was it wrong to wish to kiss him again?

  Feel his lips?

  She drew in a tremulous breath, thinking about what Lady Charlotte had shared. Was she right? Was Declan enamored with her? Would he change his mind about marriage?

  Would she?

  Marrying a man like Declan was very different from a mild-mannered barrister. There would be tension and energy and…passion. Which was lovely but also a bit frightening. What if she crumbled because of another strong man? What if she disappointed him?

  “Esme?” Declan’s voice was low and smooth as he reached a hand out to touch hers. “You’re very quiet. Did I displease you?”

  “Displease me?” Her head snapped up and she met his dark brown stare, so deep she could fall into that gaze and lose herself. “By spending the afternoon playing with my son?” Truth be told, he’d been everything she’d dreamed of with Caleb. Strong, steady, and capable. The sort of force Caleb needed.

  He grinned at her, boyish charm making her breath catch, her heart pounding in her ears.

  Kisses? From Declan? She might trade years of happiness for just one more.

  Did he kiss Esme?

  Declan forced his racing thoughts to calm as he stared into the clear blue of her eyes. Like a summer sky, she gazed back at him, clear and warm, happy.

  This feeling stole through him.

  Like there was another way, a better way to live. Lying here, next to her, he was more relaxed and yet more energized than he’d been in years.

  Was that just the beautiful fall day?

  But then an image of winter stole over him. A warm woman with golden hair spread across his chest, warm and snug against him.

  He squeezed her fingers, drawing her a bit closer.

  Later, he’d think. Reason. Decide upon a course of action.

  But for the first time in a long time, he just wanted to feel. Esme’s achingly soft lips, the press of her velvet cheek…

  Their fingers laced together. With hypnotically slow movement, Esme drew closer, only tightening the knot of tension low in his stomach.

  They barely touched and his loins grew heavy.

  “Mama,” Caleb yelled from the door. “You’ll never guess who’s here!”

  Esme sat up so suddenly, a hollow feeling filled his chest. He looked over at the boy, seeing a large shadow behind him.

  “Justice,” Esme gasped, sitting up even straighter. “What are you doing here?”

  “Interrupting, apparently,” Justice growled as he stepped into the light, ruffling Caleb’s hair.

  Declan quirked a brow as he shifted to a sitting position as well. Seeing Justice was like looking into Caleb’s future. Same dark hair, heavy brow. Same stubborn chin.

  “Lord Parker was teaching me to play cricket so that I can wallop you,” Caleb said giving the bat he still held a good swing.

  “Is that so?” Justice’s eyes narrowed. “Perhaps Lord Parker wants to wallop me himself?”

  Declan’s brows drew up, but he didn’t answer. It seemed introductions were in order before challenges were laid out and accepted. He stood, offering Esme his hand as he easily lifted her from her seat on the blanket. Then, with deliberate slowness, he looked back a Justice. “I don’t believe we’ve met.”

  Esme placed her other hand over their joined ones. “Forgive me. Lord Parker,” she said, then she turned to her stepson. “May I introduce Lord Justice.”

  Justice continued crossing the garden, Caleb shadowing his every step.

  “Pleased to meet you,” Declan answered.

  Justice gave a tight nod of acknowledgment before he stopped in front of them. “How do you know Esme?”

  Well, so much for the niceties.

  “He saved me from a cutpurse.”

  “How convenient.”

  Declan’s mouth pressed into a firm line. Was the man suggesting that he’d saved Esme in order to make her acquaintance? That he’d orchestrated the event somehow? “Not terribly so, but still, I was happy to be of assistance.”

  The other man positively glared at him. “You fancy yourself a good cricket player?”

  “Enough to teach a boy.” He shifted, placing his other hand on top of Esme’s. Justice was a professional fighter and a formidable man besides, but Declan wasn’t much for intimidation.

  The other man made a noise deep in his throat. “Lord Parker, is it?”

  “That’s right,” he answered staring back at the other man.

  “You’re a lord of leisure?”

  Declan caught disdain that laced the man’s voice, making it drop even lower. “I’m not so fortunate as that.”

  Justice’s arms crossed over his chest. “Looking to marry to make it so?”

  His own gaze narrowed. The man was accusing him of being a fortune hunter!

  “Justice,” Esme admonished. “Everyone here is aware that I’ve no fortune to hunt.”

  Justice’s face turned mutinous. “You’ve talked to him about your personal finances?”