Page 6 of The Forbidden Duke


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Titus arrived ten minutes before his stepmother’s tea was due to begin. Harley, the Satterfields’ typically unflappable butler, blinked, registering a moment’s surprise at seeing Titus.

“Your Grace, Lady Satterfield will be delighted to see you. She is already in the drawing room.”

“Thank you, Harley. I’ll see myself up.” Titus climbed the stairs to the first floor and entered the drawing room, where his stepmother was speaking with a maid.

When Lady Satterfield saw Titus, her eyes lit, and her lips spread into a broad smile. “Kendal, you came.”

She came toward him, and Titus bussed her cheek. “I told Satterfield I was coming. Didn’t he inform you?”

“He did, but I wasn’t going to believe it until I saw you for myself.” She looked up at him and brushed her hand across his shoulder. “You had a speck of lint.”

“Thank you.”

“No, thankyou. I know events like my tea today are not of your particular interest.”

He glanced around the drawing room, which the maid had just vacated. “Where is your companion?”

His stepmother had sent word that she’d hired someone. “She’ll be down directly. You’ll like her, I think.”

Titus had no intention of getting to know the woman well at all, but supposed he must at least be polite for his stepmother’s sake.

Lady Satterfield’s gaze moved toward the door behind Titus. “Ah, here she is.”

Titus turned. The companion was not at all what he expected. He’d anticipated a middle-aged woman with graying hair, perhaps wearing spectacles and a lace-edged cap. She at least ought to have been unremarkable, but this woman was the exact opposite. In fact, Titus might have expected to see her at the Cyprian ball he’d attended last night, if she’d been dressed quite differently. Instead, she wore a charming day dress that only hinted at the curves cloaked by the gentle drape of the fabric. But it was her eyes that captivated him, at once sharply inquisitive and lushly inviting. He would’ve spoken with her last night and perhaps even employed her.

However, this was neither a Cyprian ball, nor was he in the market for a mistress any longer.

His stepmother’s voice drew him briskly and sharply back to the present. “Kendal, allow me to present my new companion, Miss Eleanor Lockhart.”

As stunned as he’d been by the woman’s appearance, he was aghast at her identity. He was also distinctly uncomfortable. Which he should be. She’d been utterly ruined by one of Titus’s former inner circle, the idiot Haywood.

Led by Titus, their select group of bucks had gallivanted all over London, doing whatever they damn well chose. Titus had set the tone—gambling, racing, and romancing women had been among his chief pursuits. He’d thought nothing of flirting with and perhaps stealing a kiss or two from a young miss. It had been a foolish practice, as were most of their activities, and in retrospect, Titus was shocked he’d never been caught. But then he hadn’t been as stupid as Haywood, whom Titus had encouraged in his endeavor to lead some poor young woman into an embrace. That poor young woman had been Miss Lockhart, and they’d been caught.

Haywood, coward that he was, hadn’t risen to the occasion and offered for her. He’d needed a moneyed bride, and so he’d skulked off to the country to bide his time until he could try again. Three years later, he’d snagged a wealthy wife, while Miss Lockhart had been left with nothing, and worse—no chance for anything.

Masking his recognition and discomfiture, Titus offered a benign smile. “Good afternoon, Miss Lockhart. It’s a pleasure to make your acquaintance.” It was no lie—they’d never been formally introduced, despite his awareness of who she was.

Lady Satterfield pivoted to her young and distractingly attractive companion. “Nora, this is my stepson, His Grace, the Duke of Kendal.”

Nora.A strong but feminine name. It suited her.

Miss Lockhart dipped a curtsey. “It is an honor to meet you, Your Grace.”

Her behavior was completely appropriate—necessary even—but he didn’t want her showing him deference. Which was silly since he expected that from everyone else. “The honor is mine.”

She looked at him, her brown eyes the color of his favorite tawny port, and he had the sense no one had said such a thing to her. And why should they when she’d been a pariah? He wanted to ask what had happened to her since that unfortunate event. More importantly, he wanted to know why she was here.

But he didn’t.

At that moment, Harley announced the first guests, and Lady Satterfield went to greet them, taking Miss Lockhart with her.

Titus watched them go, then turned and went to stand near the window closest to the corner away from the entry point, away from where people would congregate…justaway. He fixed his gaze on the street below so that he could survey the arrivals. Why, he wasn’t sure. It wasn’t as if he cared who attended. Plus, his brain was completely focused on Miss Lockhart and her present circumstances.

The event that had caused her ruin may not have been directly his fault, but he should at least have inquired after her welfare.

He stood near the window for a good half hour. As usual, people cast glances in his direction, but no one approached him. Nor did he approach anyone else. His stepmother would perhaps chastise him for his aloofness, but only for a bit. She knew he preferred solitude, even if she didn’t understand it.

Since his father had died and Titus had inherited the title, he’d thrown himself into his duty, as both a landowner and a member of the House of Lords. He enjoyed spending time with his steward on his estate and with his secretary when he was in London. Beyond that, he had no interest in friendships or relationships of any kind—save the mistress he took for the Season. He supposed it was odd that a duke had no use for Society’s entertainments, but he’d spent his youth playing the role of dissolute rake to perfection and preferred never to look back.

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