The Other Duke Read online

  Rafe held back a bark of humorless laughter. “As would I.”

  She smiled slightly and he examined her face yet again. There was most definitely something deeper about Miss Serafina McPhee. Beneath those calm waters on the surface, he had a feeling storms raged. He only wondered if she would ever trust him enough to let him see.

  “Is there anything else?” he asked.

  She shook her head. “No.”

  “Then I suppose it is a bargain,” he said. She held out her hand as if to shake and he ignored it. “In this case, I believe a kiss is the proper way to seal the terms.”

  Her lips parted and he could see protest on her face. He held up a hand. “I promised your father nothing untoward would happen, Serafina, and I meant it. I ask for a simple kiss. I promise not to ravish you.”

  “Why should I believe you when you have delighted in ravishing so many women before me?” she whispered.

  “I’m surprised someone would speak to you about such things,” he said, searching her face.

  She arched a brow. “Everyone knows it about you and your family. You are seducers and gamblers and rabble-rousers. And many have delighted in telling me so since Cyril’s death.”

  “Rabble-rousers,” Rafe said with a slight smile, despite her hesitation. “I have always liked that word.”

  “Lived it, you mean?” she asked softly.

  He grinned. “From time to time, yes. But I swear to you, on all of whatever honor I possess, that I shall not force you to do anything you do not desire. Just a kiss, Serafina. The rest will happen soon enough.”

  She winced at that sentence, but then lifted her chin slightly. “Do as you will,” she whispered.

  Rafe hesitated. He had kissed many a woman and none had ever seemed so resigned to unpleasantness beforehand. It drove him to change her mind about the act, about him. Only he had to do it delicately.

  He scooted closer and reached a hand out to gently cup the back of her head. Being careful not to disturb her hairstyle, he tilted her face for the best angle. She squeezed her eyes shut and her body went stiff as his lips descended.

  His mouth touched hers, just brushing back and forth against her tightly squeezed lips. He went slowly as her body relaxed a fraction beneath him and her lips became more accessible.

  She was so soft beneath him, he wanted to delve deeper, to taste her, but he forced himself to hold back and pull away before he went too far. When he did so, he found her eyes wide open, watching him with an expression of shock.

  “That—that was all?” she whispered.

  He arched a brow. Now he knew she had a female confidante who had explained some of what happened between a man and a woman. Though the fact that she had apparently never been kissed before was a bit shocking. What was wrong with Cyril?

  “For now,” he said softly.

  She turned away from him. “Will you take me back, please?”

  He opened his mouth to say more, to question her, to try to figure out why her shoulders were suddenly so stiff, her hands so tightly folded. But then he shook his head. It didn’t really matter, did it? If Serafina was afraid of him, interrogating her wouldn’t help.

  And if she was just a beautiful prude, it would take time to work on that as well.

  So he said nothing and simply urged his horses to turn back up the lane. This little outing of theirs had revealed a great deal indeed, and he had a feeling there was even more to come.

  00

  Chapter Four

  Rafe helped Serafina down from the phaeton and saw her gaze dart to the side yet again. Their short ride from the park had been very quiet. Whatever headway he’d felt he was making with her seemed to be gone, though he couldn’t place why.

  “Did I offend you?” he asked as he held out an arm for her.

  She ignored the offer and they began to walk up the stairs side by side.

  “No, Your Grace, you didn’t.” Her voice was soft and her tone hard to read.

  He explored her face as they entered the house. No, she didn’t seem offended. Something else had brought their small connection to a halt. It was utterly frustrating. Only days or perhaps a week separated him from his marriage to this woman, if her single-minded father got his way. Yet Rafe had no idea of anything she thought, felt or otherwise, beyond her strange negotiation terms.

  He wanted to press her further for the truth, but before he could, Serafina’s father appeared in the parlor door. McPhee’s face was red and sweaty and he had obviously been working himself into a froth.

  “Where have you been?” he barked.

  Rafe sighed. So much for his time alone with Serafina. Now he had to deal with McPhee. He nudged passed his future father-in-law into the parlor.

  “I’m sorry, did you forget our plans to ride in the park already?”

  “You were gone half an hour!” her father all but shrieked.

  Rafe blinked at the man’s sudden outburst. “That is hardly enough time to ride there and back, let alone have any kind of meaningful conversation. Dear God, man, you do test me.”

  “We need to discuss—”

  Rafe waved him off. “There is nothing to discuss,” he interrupted. “As you have stated so many times that it makes me want to scream, the contract is clear. I might argue it, but it would take months, waste money and further ruin the reputations of all involved. Not only that, but Miss McPhee and I have come to terms.”

  McPhee spun on his daughter. “Terms, Serafina?”

  She straightened her shoulders and gave her father a look that could have withered flowers on the vine. “Don’t worry yourself, Papa. My terms have nothing to do with what you are due.”

  He glared at her before he turned to Rafe. “You will marry on Saturday.”

  “In three days?” Rafe said as he lifted his brows. The man must be desperate to press for such a swift resolution of the matter.

  “That is when the original wedding was to take place and I have every confidence that you will be able to obtain a special license before then if you exert your new influence,” McPhee said, a cruel tilt to his lips.

  Rafe looked past the man to Serafina. “Will that be difficult for you, to marry me on the same day you were meant to marry Cyril?”

  Serafina’s expression softened, just as it had in the park when Rafe mentioned his attachment to his brother. But alongside that softer emotion, he also felt her surprise that he would ask her leave. Was it possible no one had ever obtained her consent, even in regards to the most important moments of her life? He could not imagine treating his sister or mother in such a fashion.

  “I am agreeable,” she said softly.

  “Then so it will be,” Rafe said, but found himself not ready to say goodbye quite yet to his future bride. Instead, he said, “Good day, McPhee. Serafina, please escort me out.”

  She tilted her head in surprise, but didn’t argue. She motioned to the door. “Lead the way, Your Grace.”

  Serafina tried not to fidget as she and Rafe stood in the foyer together. It would not do to reveal her nervousness. Yes, she could admit it, if only to herself: Rafe Flynn made her nervous. But it wasn’t in the awful way Cyril had before he died. This was something…different. Something she couldn’t name or place, but it wasn’t entirely disagreeable.

  “Serafina?” Rafe’s voice was soft and pulled her from her reverie as they waited for his phaeton to be returned to the drive.

  “Yes?” she asked.

  He stepped closer and suddenly his hand reached out, cupping her chin and tilting her face up to look him in the eyes. As it had in the carriage, her heart began to pound, her knees began to shake and not entirely unpleasant quivers started low in her belly.

  “It will be better,” he said softly. “Better than this.”

  Serafina bit her lip. What a promise to make. How she wished she could believe him. A part of her wanted to do just that, but she knew better. Until she was alone with Rafe, truly alone, she knew she wouldn’t see his real character. D
espite their negotiations, despite his apparent good nature, he could be utterly cruel when the chamber door closed. And he could easily renege on any bargain they made if only because it pleased him. That was the way of the world.

  When she said nothing, his lips pursed. “Come to supper at my mother’s home here in London tomorrow, alone,” he said. “You can meet my family and see we are not ogres, despite the reputation you continue to bring up.”

  “My father will never agree to that,” she said with a shake of her head. “He’ll involve himself in it.”

  Rafe smiled a half-smile and Serafina felt a strange desire to lean in closer. She resisted it with great effort.

  “I’ll make certain your father will allow it,” Rafe said. “I may not have all the power that I desire in this situation, thanks to the contracts my cousin signed. But I assure you, I still have a great deal more than your father does. Will you come?”

  She hesitated. The thought of going to meet Rafe’s family made her stomach hurt. How much more would they hate her than even Cyril’s mother had? After all, they had to believe she had trapped their son into marriage, that she was as grasping as her father was.

  But this was yet another thing she could not avoid.

  She nodded slowly. “If you can arrange it, I will be there. Goodbye, Your Grace.”

  Now it was he who leaned in, his face coming dangerously close to hers. She could feel the whisper of his breath against her cheek.

  “Rafe,” he corrected.

  She blinked. She always thought of him by his Christian name, but to say it…

  “Rafe,” she repeated, her voice breaking.

  His smile broadened. To her surprise, he leaned down and claimed her mouth for the second time. Where the first kiss had been feather-light and gentle, this time his lips were harder against hers, filled with a promise that both frightened and intrigued her.

  But he didn’t force his affections for long. He drew back after just a few seconds of contact.

  “It seems I have a wedding to plan for. Until tomorrow.”

  He released her and turned on his heel to stroll down the walkway to his phaeton. She stared after him, tracking his every move.

  She was so focused on him, in fact, that she didn’t hear her father’s approach at her elbow until he spoke.

  “Well done, Serafina,” he said, and she jumped before she turned to face him. He looked mightily pleased. “He seems smitten.”

  She shook her head as they watched Rafe nudge the horses into movement and ride off down the drive. “I assure you, Papa, it isn’t that way.”

  He shrugged. “It doesn’t matter what way it is, as long as he weds you.”

  He turned and left her standing in the doorway, staring at the spot where Rafe had last been, despite the fact that he was long gone now.

  Her mind turned endlessly now that she was alone to consider their encounter. She had been desperate not to marry Cyril. The very idea of it had left her on the edge of desperate acts. But though Rafe was at this point far less cruel, in a way she feared marrying him even more.

  But as had been the motif of her life, she had no choice in the matter.

  00

  Chapter Five

  “You can’t be telling me you actually want to marry this woman,” Crispin sputtered as he slammed his glass of whiskey down on the sideboard and sent amber liquid sloshing across the wood.

  Rafe shook his head. “Of course not.”

  “And yet you do not fight!” his brother blustered as he paced across the parlor, running a hand through his thick, dark blond hair.

  “What would be the point in fighting?” Rafe asked. “You heard what the solicitor said.”

  “Damn the solicitor,” Crispin growled. “He’s an idiot.”

  Rafe pursed his lips. “But Annabelle is not and she said the same thing. Nothing can be done in the end, Crispin. I would either end up in a duel or wasting a good portion of a fortune battling only to end up in the same position as I am now.”

  “Damn it, Rafe,” Crispin said, spinning to spear him again with one of those disapproving looks. It was disconcerting to see them on his brother’s face, for normally they went the other direction.

  “We have a bad enough reputation as it is,” Rafe reasoned.

  “As if any of us have cared about that,” Crispin said with a harsh laugh. “If anything, we’ve always reveled in it.”

  “It is all well and good being the Notorious Flynns—”

  “We were called that once in a gossip page,” Crispin argued. “How is it our fault that the ton doesn’t appreciate dancing and drinking and that we win their fortunes at cards and occasionally steal their mistresses?”

  “All of which has been done in public,” Rafe said, his tone cool.

  Crispin shrugged.

  “But if I dodge this marriage, we will become worse than notorious. We will be infamous. And Mama and Annabelle do care what is said about us. Push too far and we might ruin our sister’s chances to marry happily, or at least well.” Rafe scrubbed a hand over his face. “I’m not willing to sacrifice her on the altar of my own pleasure. Are you?”

  Crispin glared at him, but much of the heat had left his tone when he said, “Of course not.”

  “Besides, there is also Serafina to consider.”

  Rafe’s mind turned to her, as it had been for twenty-four hours. Her beauty and her intriguing personality were both a draw to him. He couldn’t deny that.

  “She would be socially devastated by the breaking of the engagement,” he said softly. “Especially since her father has been quite indiscreet about the fact that I will be carrying it on. The young woman is an innocent, I couldn’t put her in such a position.”

  “Oh, an innocent,” Crispin spat, as if the label were the darkest curse. “That sounds unbearably drab.”

  Rafe flashed briefly to the softness of Serafina’s lips, the unexpected boldness of her negotiations when it came to their marriage, her unreadable countenance that he had begun to sense hid something far more interesting than what Crispin assumed and accused.

  “You may be surprised,” Rafe said, sipping his drink slowly. “You will see when she arrives tonight. Serafina is more unpredictable than you might think.”

  “How so?” his brother challenged, folding his arms.

  Rafe hesitated. The two had always shared stories of their conquests. Hell, they had on occasion shared a conquest or two. But with Serafina it felt different.

  But his brother remained staring at him in utter disbelief, and Rafe’s drive to defend the woman who would be his bride became stronger than his strange and sudden impulse toward discretion.

  “She forced me to take her for a ride yesterday when I called and then demanded we negotiate the terms of our marriage,” he admitted.

  Crispin blinked and his smug satisfaction in the fact of Serafina’s boredom faded a fraction.

  “You don’t say,” he said slowly.

  “I do,” Rafe laughed. “The young woman seems to be as intelligent as she is beautiful.”

  Crispin groaned. “We know from the experience of living with Annabelle how dangerous that combination can be. Will she ever grant you peace?”

  Rafe pursed his lips. If Serafina had her way, they would never speak again once the vicar had declared them lawfully wedded man and wife. He had believed that her reticence had to do with her feelings for Cyril, but now he wondered.

  What secrets was Serafina McPhee hiding?

  “Rafe?” Crispin pressed.

  “I don’t think peace will be an issue,” he said, but it felt like a lie. “And certainly a little attention couldn’t be so terrible from such a lovely lady.”

  His brother rolled his eyes. “Dear God, whatever you do, don’t become enamored with the woman.”

  Rafe laughed the order off with ease. “No, of course not. My duty, as she puts it, will be pleasant enough, I’m certain. But I guarantee you, brother, it will change nothing.”

 
Serafina was finding it nearly impossible to draw breath as she exited her carriage with her maid trailing silently behind her. She took a moment to gather herself by stopping to stare up at Alexandra Flynn’s townhouse. Her new future mother-in-law had used her husband’s money well, for the place rivaled the celebrated homes of those with the highest title.

  “Which Rafe now holds,” she murmured to herself.

  “I’m sorry, Miss?” the maid peeped from behind her.

  “Nothing, Berta,” Serafina said with a frown.

  The door to the townhouse opened before them and Serafina drew back. It wasn’t some finely liveried servant who greeted them, but Rafe himself. With the light from inside framing him, she was put to mind again of the angel he took his name from.

  “Good evening, Serafina,” he said as he held the door open to allow them inside. A servant waited in the foyer and immediately motioned for Berta to join her. The lady’s maid looked annoyed, but did as she had been directed.

  Serafina let out a sigh of relief once Berta was gone.

  “Good evening, Your Grace. I am surprised to find you waiting for me.”

  He smiled. “I can well imagine you would feel overwhelmed by this gathering. I wanted you to see a familiar face before any strangers met you. I can also call your maid back. Annabelle is quite close to her own, so we are not shocked by the occasional servant at the supper table.”

  Serafina shook her head. “To be perfectly honest, Berta is a wretch who reports my every move back to my father. I am glad to have her gone.”

  “Ah,” Rafe said with a sudden frown. “Then we should make sure she does not accompany you to our new home when we are married.”

  Serafina’s eyes went wide. “Are you in jest?”

  “No, I see no reason why you should staff your household with those you do not like. Annabelle’s maid can make suggestions of those who might be a better companion to you and you will interview them once the excitement of the nuptials fades. I’ll see to it.”