The Duke She Wished For Page 8

  “It is settled. It’s a sign!” Tillie said happily as she hopped around the workbench and started gathering the supplies needed for a mask to match the gown. “You were the one who talked about fate. Well Tabitha, here it is, speaking to you directly in the form of this beautiful ball gown. You are going. Now hide this dress before your blasted stepsister see it.”

  Tabitha waited the space of a second before springing into action herself.

  14

  “Alex!”

  Alexander cringed at the urgency in his cousin’s voice ringing through the open door of his London townhouse, as Nicholas strode up the stairs and past the butler who hurried to allow Lord Nicholas into the house.

  “Nick! What a surprise,” said Alex, entering the hall. “Lovely to see you. Come in, old chap, sit down.”

  “Alex, tell me the truth, and spare no details.” Nicholas stood, filling the doorway, intent on his cousin.

  “Please, come in Nick, you’ll cause a scandal,” Alexander replied, standing and pulling Nicholas into the house before shutting the door behind him. “Come into the sitting room.”

  Alexander led him down the hallway and into the room, sitting in his favorite broad chair in the corner of the room while practically placing Nicholas on the settee.

  “Now, whatever is the all about? You seem quite beside yourself.”

  “I feel as if you know already, Alex,” said Nicholas, leaning forward on his elbows. “Tabitha. Your ‘cousin,’ or so you say. Something is not right, Alex, and I insist you tell me the truth. This girl is not from society. She’s not practiced in their ways, she —”

  “I told you, she has been traveling —”

  “Traveling or not, a mother of the peerage would have taught her the art of conversing with a duke. She would be more subdued, more practiced, less — interesting. She would not be sitting alone in a chocolate shop or traveling alone, on foot, in an alley. I care not where she is from, Alex, but I must know the truth before tomorrow.”

  Alexander inclined his head as he studied his cousin’s intensity, knowing the game was up. “I feel that this is not my story to tell, cousin. I must urge you, however, whatever you find out, do not blame Tabitha. This was simply a job, a circumstance she found herself in before she was quickly over her head.”

  Alexander proceeded to describe the situation to Nicholas, from the time Lorna had cornered him into agreeing to play-act through the party as Tabitha’s cousin, to her nearly being found out and forced to leave the Fairchild home.

  “Besides that, I cannot tell you much,” he said. “As to her actual background, where she can be found, and what her thoughts and feelings towards you are, that I do not know. She did mention schooling in France, but I believe, as you already know, you can still find her in London for a time.”

  Nicholas looked at his cousin in confusion.

  “Why would you not tell me this? Why would Lorna not tell me this? You know I would do anything for my mother.”

  “You hate the games of the ton, Nicholas, we all know that. You would have disagreed with this little plot, would you not have?”

  “Of course but —”

  “Exactly. It was best to keep it from you. Tabitha was to leave when necessary and you would be none the wiser. Tell me, are you cross with her or do you feel as you did before my revelation?”

  “I am unsure, cousin,” answered Nicholas. “I valued her honesty, her openness, the fact I could trust her. That, now, may be broken. If I determine she is the same person I have thought her to be, if her character, her values remain the same, then I still feel there are none other like her, and no one else for me.”

  “In that case, I have a suggestion. Speak with Lorna. She orchestrated this charade, and had Bernard watching Tabitha for weeks prior. She can tell you much more than I can.”

  “In that case, Alex, I will be on my way.”

  Nicholas returned home and went immediately to Lorna’s office. He strode in without knocking, startling the housekeeper.

  “Nicholas! My goodness, child, but you gave me a fright. You look quite serious, whatever is the matter?”

  Nicholas strode into the small room and shut the door behind him, taking a seat at the stool before Lorna’s desk.

  “Lorna, you must tell me all you know of Tabitha Kenmore,” he said.

  “Oh, Alexander’s cousin,” she answered, raising an eyebrow at him. “Are you still thinking of the girl?”

  “Thinking of her? Yes, Lorna, nearly every waking minute. She is a mystery. Like fate, she continues to appear but then disappears just as quickly. I know she is not Alexander’s cousin, that it was all a charade to protect my mother. I forgive you for keeping it from me, and I understand why, but you must tell me more. Who is she? Where is from?”

  Lorna sighed and rubbed at her forehead, unsure of what to tell Nicholas. Tabitha would be the perfect partner for him, but could they both withstand the gossip and the rumors that would arise and assault them from the peerage? They would have many difficulties to face should they stay together, though they were both strong individuals.

  Lorna’s romantic heart won out over her practical side, and she told Nicholas what she knew.

  “Tabitha Blackmore is the daughter of a baronet, who became a successful milliner. When he passed, she continued to grow the business and has quite a talent. She came to our attention as she took the order to create hats for your mother. Bernard saw her deal with difficult clients and was impressed. Her stepmother, who I believe is a rather trying woman, owns the shop, but Tabitha essentially operates it.”

  Lorna continued on, telling Nicholas of how Tabitha came to be involved in the plot to protect the duchess.

  “I do not know her story beyond when she left that night. For that, you must ask her yourself. Or, should you require some background first, I suggest you speak with Miss Mathilda Andrews.”

  Nicholas bade her good day and continued on his quest, this time to find Tillie.

  Tillie was frowning over the design in front of her when the butler announced she had a visitor. “A visitor? But who would be calling at this hour...” her voice fell away as she looked up to find Nicholas standing in front of her. She guessed at why he was here and was not entirely sure of what to say to him.

  She could see why Tabitha referred to him as an Adonis. His dark hair, dark eyes, strong jaw and fine physique were captivating, but there was something rather serious and stoic about him. Particularly in this instant. He looked at her intensely.

  “Mathilda Andrews?”

  “Yes Your Grace, but place call me Tillie. Everyone does.”

  “Tillie, then. I must speak to you.”

  “Please come in.” She invited him to take a seat. “May I provide you with a refreshment of some any kind?”

  “No, but thank you. I must speak to you about Tabitha.”

  “Tabitha?” she feigned innocence.

  “Yes, Tabitha, your friend.”

  “So you must know, then, that —”

  “That Tabitha Kenmore is Tabitha Blackmore, a milliner and not a member of the peerage? Yes, I am aware of the situation. I assume this is why she has been avoiding me since she left my home some weeks ago, because she did not want me to find the truth. I had thought her honest, trustworthy. But she has been hiding this from me since she stepped through my door, and every moment since.”

  Tillie’s expression turned from guarded to passionate as she rose from her seat to defend her friend.

  “There is one thing you must know of Tabitha Blackmore, Your Grace,” leaning on the desk in front of her as she narrowed in on his face. “She is honest, determined, and the person I uphold with the utmost respect. She has endured extremely trying times with grace and poise, and if you think her not good enough for you, then you are sorely mistaken.”

  “Miss Andrews—”

  “Tillie.”

  “Tillie. You misunderstand me. It is not Tabitha’s station in life that causes me concern, but the fa
ct that she has kept this secret from me for quite some time.”

  That somewhat mollified Tillie as she sat back down. “Every time she saw you, she thought it would be the last time. She sees no future with you as you are so far above her in rank. She has tried to distance herself from you because of this. Her intentions were true, Your Grace. She only wanted to help your mother as Mrs. McEwan requested, and to help further herself to the school she has so longed to attend.

  “Her life has been a difficult one. Her stepmother has treated her as little more than a servant or shop help, despite the fact that her designs are what keeps it in business. She felt her time with you was a fairy tale, however one without a happily ever after. She did not tell you the truth because she thought, whether she told you or not, the ending was the same, that you go your separate ways.”

  “Why did she agree to come to the masquerade?”

  “Because, Your Grace. She has fallen in love with you, although she has yet to admit it, even to herself.”

  Nicholas sat back in his chair, listening to his heart beat. She loved him? Would this really be possible, then, to make things work, despite the fact she had lied to him, despite the fact she was a milliner and he was a duke? He wanted her — badly — but he knew how she disdained society, and should she become his, a duchess she would become. Could they live a life together as such a pair?

  “Whatever you choose to do now,” said Tillie, “please do not break her heart Your Grace.”

  “Call me Nicholas,” he said, as he rose and exited the shop.

  15

  “You cannot hide in the carriage all night, Tabitha,” Tillie said for the second time, becoming exasperated. They were outside the Fairchild house. The ball had begun nearly an hour ago and Tabitha still could not work her nerve up to go in. She’d had to wait for Frances and Ellora to leave in the family chaise before she could begin getting dressed and Tillie had taken special care in doing the beautiful curls in Tabitha’s hair. She had worked herself every hour of the night before and today to finish the new orders in time to attend the masquerade.

  Not allowing Tabitha any more time to make a decision, Tillie sprang forward and pushed the golden-plumed mask onto her friend’s face. She had not told Tabitha of the duke’s visit. She wanted to provide Tabitha with the opportunity to speak to him herself. She only hoped the duke realized how fortunate he would be to have a woman like her.

  “It’s time, Tabitha Blackmore,” she said, squeezing her friend’s hands. “Enter with a disguise, but leave as yourself, no matter what.”

  “No matter what,” she agreed. She wanted to see Nicholas one last time, but she also wanted to put the entire Tabitha Kenmore alias to rest for good, as well.

  Pushing the door open and allowing Jennings to help her down, Tabitha squared her shoulders and held her head high. Mask in place, she marched forward.

  As she made her way up the huge marble steps, her breath grew shallow and her heartrate increased. She was doubting herself and it was nearly overwhelming. A few steps from the top, she stopped. Looking behind her, she was ready to turn and run back to the carriage before Tillie left. She moved to turn around when Alexander’s voice stopped her.

  “Leaving so soon?”

  She gulped and turned back toward him—he’d appeared at the top of the entrance steps out of nowhere.

  “I am not sure I can do this,” she said, hesitating.

  “You can do this,” Alexander said as he stepped down toward her and offered his hand. “You need to do this. He needs to see you. He has so much to tell you.”

  What could Nicholas possibly have to tell her?

  “I am tired of pretending to be somebody I am not with him,” she said, her voice cracking. She had fallen madly for the duke, but he had fallen for someone who didn’t exist.

  “So be yourself.”

  Alexander put a hand on her shoulder and gave it a friendly squeeze.

  “Easy for you to say,” she said miserably. “You’re a duke in training.”

  He laughed, rich and low, and pushed her up a step.

  “Your destiny awaits, Tabitha Blackmore.”

  The ballroom of the Fairchild house was brimming with people and Tabitha was certain that she would never find Nicholas in this crush of humanity.

  She lingered at the top of the steps before descending down into the madness and froze when she felt a sea of eyes turn toward her. Reminding herself to keep breathing, that no one knew who she was, she walked down each step deliberately so that she wouldn’t fall flat on her face.

  “You can do this,” she whispered to herself for the ninth time.

  At the bottom of the stairs, she took a glance around. She didn’t recognize anyone and the masks were making it impossible. If she had no idea who all these people were, how would she and Nicholasv find one another?

  She didn’t have time to wonder, as the crowd parted and let a tall figure with a black and gold mask pass through as though he were royalty. Well, he practically was. Nicholas looked resplendent in his black suit with gold accents. Looking down at her own gold dress, she realized what Lorna must have been doing when she chose it. They were perfectly matched, she and Nicholas, in so many ways.

  But not in the way that mattered most, between the duke and the milliner, the daughter of a baronet.

  The closer he got, the more heat she felt pooling in her belly, making her chest feel swollen and heavy. Beneath her mask, she knew her cheeks were flushed as she was aware of every strong, masculine movement he made.

  He moved to stand in front of her and the rest of the room disappeared around them.

  “You came.”

  It was a declaration.

  “I did,” she said. “You look resplendent.”

  He laughed and turned his head. She caught a glimpse of his profile beneath his mask.

  “You are a vision, Tabitha Blackmore.”

  She warmed at the compliment but then her heart stopped beating in her chest.

  Blackmore, not Kenmore.

  She gripped the railing beside her to keep herself from falling over.

  The entire charade—it was up. He knew.

  The question was—what would he do now? What would her stepmother do with the knowledge? Would she be cast out before she could make it to Paris?

  She opened her mouth to ask him those questions, but he grabbed her hand and pulled her along behind him as he made his way out of the ballroom.

  They cleared the crowd and headed straight back toward the kitchen. Once inside, the only person there was Lorna, who smiled and ducked out once she saw the two of them. But Nicholas did not stop.

  From the back of the kitchen, he found a servant’s staircase and he climbed two flights of steps without dropping her hand from his.

  She wanted to ask him what he was doing and where he was taking her, but they were moving so fast it was all she could to do maintain her balance in the slippers she wore. On the third floor, he pulled her across the plush carpeting of the hallway and toward a doorway at the far end. Pushing it open, he dragged Tabitha in behind him and shut and locked the door, spinning to face her.

  “I’m—I’m…” she began but couldn’t. She felt tears welling up and she was in a near panic.

  “I know everything,” he said gruffly. “I have talked to Alexander, Lorna, hell, even to Matilda Andrews. I know who you are.”

  Her throat closed up. This was it.

  “I only have one question left,” he said as he pulled his mask off. Feeling silly with hers still on, she did the same and didn’t try to stop the tears that began to fall.

  “I am very sorry,” she whispered, but he shook his head and walked forward.

  “One question, Miss Blackmore,” he said as he scrubbed his hand down his face. “One…final…question.”

  She sucked in a breath and let her mask fall to the floor. It was over. All of it. She’d only wished she had the chance to tell him how she felt before it crumbled.

  �
��Will you marry me?”

  No single question could have shocked her more or left her unmoored quite like that one. Her head snapped up and she blinked and studied him a moment as he clasped her hands in his.

  “Are you jesting?” She croaked. “I am not sure that I could bear it if you were. Please.”

  He laughed as he gripped the back of her head and pulled her face close to his.

  “I am not jesting,” he said. “Quite the opposite. I have done my research. I know your story and was waiting for you to tell me yourself. But I am awful at waiting and when I found what I have been searching for my entire life, I decided not to wait any longer. I love you. I want to marry you. I want you to be my duchess.”

  “But what will people say…”

  She was cut off by an quick, urgent kiss.

  “I do not care what people will say,” he said. “You are the daughter of a baronet. Of a good man from what I hear. Your mother was a baron’s daughter. You have worked hard and never abandoned your dreams in the face of what I heard were unspeakable hardships.”

  “I am not duchess material,” she whispered through her tears. “I will never be duchess material. I do not know society, how to act or what to say.”

  “You’re wrong, my accidental duchess,” he said just before pulling her in for a kiss. “You are everything I have ever looked for in a duchess. It matters not about society, we will have what we need in one another. And if society wants to talk, let them. Tell me you’ll marry me. My mother knows. My cousin knows. Your best friend knows. Lorna and Bernard know. Everyone is waiting for you to say yes. For me to tell them you said yes.”

  Tabitha cried then. All of these secrets were finally releasing their hold on her. Between her tears she nodded and allowed him to kiss her.

  It was a sweet, gentle kiss at first. Probing. Searching. But the longer they stayed in his room, the more the kiss grew in intensity. She was grabbing at him, demanding more.