The Other Duke Page 5

  Serafina blinked in surprise. “You do take care of things, don’t you?”

  He grinned. “What is the point of having power or money unless you can?”

  She found herself wanting to smile even though his words struck a little fear in her. They reminded her of how easily he could control anything she did or didn’t do, despite his earlier promises.

  “You even managed my father,” she forced herself to continue without allowing him to see her nervousness. “I admit I didn’t believe you would be able to convince him to allow me to come here with only his spy as chaperone.”

  “I am quite persuasive, my dear, as you will no doubt learn.”

  She stepped back out of habit as her stomach flopped. Images of Cyril “persuading” her filled her mind and she fought to keep them at bay. Fought to remember that Cyril was dead and that this man had not yet proven himself to be anything like his cousin.

  “You are pale,” Rafe said, moving toward her to take her hand. A shock of heat and electric awareness jolted through her at the touch. “Are you well?”

  She nodded, but the movement was jerky and she doubted it did anything to mask her concerns. “Of course. Simply…simply…”

  She struggled for a word to explain herself to his man, one that would be truthful, for he was looking at her so closely that she feared he would read a lie on her face. But one that would also cover up some of her heart, some of her fears. Rafe had no right to those things.

  He drew her closer as he tucked her hand into the crook of his arm. “Come, you will feel better once you meet everyone and see that we are not out of control monsters who are slaves to our worst impulses.”

  He led her forward toward a parlor. The door was shut, but she could hear the murmur of voices within. Her hands began to shake, her knees tremble, and she couldn’t help but cast her glance backward through the foyer toward the front door and the escape it falsely promised her.

  Rafe opened the door and led her inside. She fought the urge to squeeze her eyes shut and instead looked at what awaited her.

  An older woman with a pretty, open face stood by the fire talking to a younger woman who looked remarkably like her. And a man who was a slightly less handsome version of Rafe sipped a drink as he surveyed the dark garden behind the house. Rafe’s mother, his sister, his brother.

  When Rafe stepped into the room, all of them stopped what they were doing at once and stared. Serafina shifted, readying herself for judgments or recriminations. But instead, the older woman moved toward the door with a welcoming smile.

  “Hello, you must be Serafina!” she said as she reached her son. “I’m Alexandra Flynn. How happy we are to meet you at last.”

  She took both of Serafina’s hands and squeezed gently before she turned toward the others. “This is my daughter, Annabelle, and my younger son, Crispin.”

  The others came toward her, but they did not offer any less kindness than their mother had.

  Annabelle Flynn smiled, and though there was some hesitation to the expression, there was also friendliness.

  “Miss McPhee,” Annabelle said. “I’ve heard so much about you both from friends and from my brother. I’m so glad to meet you. And I tell you that it will be nice to have a sister to finally balance out the men in this family.”

  Serafina blinked. A sister. She had never thought of it that way, that she would gain a family. Cyril had no siblings and his mother had never made things pleasant or welcoming in any way.

  “Preserve us from Annabelle having a cohort,” Crispin laughed as he reached their small group. He held out a hand toward Serafina with a grin that put her strongly to mind of Rafe, though it didn’t make her stomach wobble as her fiancé did. “Miss McPhee. Welcome to our family.”

  She shook Crispin’s hand. Just as she had sensed in his sister, she saw the hesitation in the younger brother’s eyes, the way his stare slid to Rafe briefly. For that she could not blame him.

  “Thank you all for this warm welcome,” Serafina said as Rafe’s mother motioned them all to sit on the settees before the fire. To her surprise, Rafe took a spot next to her, his presence filling up all the space around her without even trying.

  “You deserve nothing less after what you have endured,” Mrs. Flynn said with another smile for her. “These are trying circumstances for all involved. I am so very sorry for your loss.”

  Serafina fought to maintain the proper expression when faced with such sentiments. She didn’t want to offend Mrs. Flynn or the others by allowing them to see the ugly truth in her heart.

  “Thank you. Cyril’s death was a shock,” she said, sticking to the truth so a lie wouldn’t be revealed too easily.

  Annabelle nodded with sympathy. “This entire situation has been such a whirlwind for us, I cannot imagine what it’s like for you.”

  Serafina shot Rafe a look. He gave her an encouraging nod, as if giving her permission to be honest or friendly or whatever she desired to be. She wasn’t certain how to respond to that, in truth.

  “Yes, well, I hope you know that I understand if you cannot look at me kindly.” Serafina dropped her gaze. “I realize that Rafe…that His Grace…is dear to you. My existence likely brings him harm in your eyes.”

  Mrs. Flynn drew back in what seemed to be true surprise. “My dear, is that your fear? I assure you, I recognize that you are as affected by these events as my son. To be forced by contract to marry another when you had planned a different life…it seems positively medieval! I recognize your father’s desire to remain connected to the house of Hartholm, but…” She trailed off. “I don’t think it is fair to you anymore than it is to Raphael.”

  “But since circumstances are what they are,” Annabelle added. “We welcome you to our family.”

  Rafe cast a quick glance to his brother and even Crispin managed a tight smile. “Indeed.”

  Serafina blinked at the tears that suddenly stung her eyes. She had been so afraid of this moment, of meeting these people, and yet they treated her with respect and care that went far beyond even her wildest dreams.

  “I see Kitterage floating about by the doorway, casting glances in at us,” Annabelle said. “So it must be time for supper.”

  They all stood in unison and to Serafina’s surprise, it was her future sister-in-law who clasped her arm and drew her toward the door.

  “Come,” she said with a laugh over her shoulder that was directed toward Rafe. “Let me tell you all my brother’s most embarrassing secrets so that you might use them against him at will.”

  Serafina couldn’t help but laugh as well, even as she tried very hard not to look at Rafe herself. Right now she didn’t trust herself not to reveal too much if she dared to meet his blue eyes.

  A few hours later, her belly full and mind put at ease by the supper she had shared with Rafe’s family, Serafina followed Rafe through the French doors out onto a broad stone terrace that overlooked the gardens below. The summer air hit her and she breathed in its cool freshness before she cast a side-look at her fiancé.

  “Your family is… They’re wonderful,” she said.

  He took her hand unexpectedly and drew her forward across the terrace, taking her toward the wall and away from the windows that granted them both light and some kind of hint of a chaperone from the people inside.

  Immediately, Serafina’s heart began to pound.

  “Thank you,” he said at last. “I happen to agree.”

  “Your mother has the sweetest disposition and she truly seemed to want to know about me,” Serafina continued. “Your sister has a brilliant mind indeed—I can see why you had her act as solicitor by reviewing the betrothal documents.”

  “Annabelle is often too smart for her own good,” Rafe said with a laugh.

  Before, that kind of comment might have tweaked Serafina and made her question her fiancé’s character, but she had watched Rafe with his sister through the night. It was clear the pair adored each other, even with all their playful teasing.

&
nbsp; “And what do you think of Crispin?” Rafe asked.

  Serafina pursed her lips. “I think he is the most standoffish of the group,” she admitted. “And I don’t think he has quite made up his mind about me. Despite that, he was utterly polite and I saw the charm that gossip has labeled both of you to have.”

  “As I told you before, Crispin is my best friend as well as my brother,” Rafe said. “So I hope you don’t hold any hesitation you might feel against him. I don’t think it is personal.”

  “No, I don’t either.” She shrugged. “He wants to protect you, that is as clear as the nose on his face. It must frustrate him that he cannot save you from this situation.”

  Rafe drew back, as if surprised she had come to that conclusion about his brother. Then he smiled. “In time, you will know each other better and he will become more comfortable.”

  Serafina turned toward him fully. “Will we know each other?” she asked. “Since you and I do not intend to have a marriage that is real, will he truly have any more relationship with me than we have now?”

  Rafe blinked. “Serafina, we will ultimately have children—it was part of our bargain. I have no intention of abandoning them. We will all have a relationship, even if we are not a doting husband and wife. I hope we can become…friends.”

  Serafina swallowed. Friends. The man standing before her, looming before her, all masculine beauty and heat and charm, didn’t seem like the kind who made friends with women. Gossip labeled him a seducer, though not a cad.

  She turned away so she wouldn’t have to address that issue. “All I meant to say was that they are different than I expected. Welcoming and kind, and I appreciate that a great deal.”

  “I assume that means my Aunt Hesper was not equally welcoming,” Rafe said softly.

  Serafina tensed. She had not meant to reveal that detail to him. But he had gleaned it nonetheless.

  “She never liked me much. The contract was written between Cyril’s father and mine, and I was never under the impression she had any say in it. She certainly always made it clear that I did not pass muster as a mate for her only child.”

  Rafe shook his head. “If it helps, none of my family ever passed muster either. Even at Cyril’s funeral, she accused me of sweeping like a vulture to collect the spoils of her dearly beloved son’s untimely death. Nasty woman.”

  Serafina looked up at him. Here was yet another thing she had in common with the man. It seemed there were quite a few.

  He shifted as she stared and suddenly he inched closer. “Sera…may I call you Sera?”

  She blinked. No one had ever given her a nickname before. Certainly no utterly distracting men. It felt very intimate.

  “I don’t know,” she whispered.

  He laughed. “Why don’t we try it and see if we like it,” he suggested. “Sera, I have been thinking about yesterday afternoon since we parted in your father’s foyer.”

  She swallowed. “About…about our discussions?”

  He shook his head slowly. “No. About kissing you.”

  She took a step back, but the terrace wall didn’t allow much escape from either Rafe’s hard body or her own mind. In truth, she had been thinking of his kiss both in the phaeton and in the foyer as well. They were shameful, heated thoughts that she had been trying desperately to squelch.

  “I would like to kiss you now,” he revealed, reaching up to slide the back of his hand down the curve of her bare arm. Even though the night was warm, she shivered and he smiled slightly at the reaction. “Will you let me?”

  Her mind’s first reaction was to say no, but to her surprise, she found herself nodding, as if her body was disconnected from her intellect. Because her body very much wanted to kiss him again.

  He eased even closer and wrapped one strong arm around her waist. The embrace was gentle, not trapping, and she relaxed into it as he cupped her chin and tilted her face upward to grant him access to her lips.

  Her breath was hard to find as his mouth descended, descended, and finally his lips brushed over hers in another feather-light caress. She stood still beneath his ministrations for a moment, but then she began to kiss him back. It felt like they stood together for a very long time, but it couldn’t have been so very long. The only thing to disturb the perfect moment was when he parted his mouth over hers and gently probed her with his tongue.

  She stiffened at the insistent pressure, anxiety rising in her chest. But he wasn’t demanding, he wasn’t hard or harsh, and she found herself opening to him slowly.

  He let out a small, achy groan before his tongue moved inside her, gently tasting and teasing and turning her legs to jelly and her mind to mush. She lifted up to her tiptoes to get closer, tilted her head for better access and lost herself in this touch, this need she had never felt before.

  He was panting when he broke the kiss, his bright eyes flashing in the moonlight.

  “I do like kissing you, Sera,” he whispered, his breath warming her already hot cheeks.

  She swallowed, forcing herself not to follow when he took a long step away. Now that she was not in his arms, she realized what a precarious position she was in. In the dark edge of the terrace, he could have done anything to her.

  And yet he hadn’t.

  “I—” She turned away from him, hands shaking. “I should go home.”

  “I suppose it is time,” he said, coming around so she had to look at him. He explored her face and she saw his concern, his hesitation. His questions that she didn’t want to answer.

  The responses she would give would be far too humiliating.

  “Sera—” he began.

  She almost shut her eyes at that name coming from his lips. It seemed so very intimate to have this little private thing they shared. And not as unpleasant as it should have been. Kind of like his kiss.

  “I’d like to say goodbye to your family,” she interrupted, moving toward the parlor where the others were still gathered.

  If he wanted to argue or to question her further, he didn’t do so. He only took her inside and allowed her what she asked.

  She could only hope that his solicitous actions would continue after they were wed in just two short days.

  00

  Chapter Six

  Rafe was married.

  Until recently, that was not a sentence he thought he would be saying that sunny Saturday. It wasn’t that he’d never thought he would marry, but he’d pictured it as something in the distant future with a faceless bride he hadn’t yet met.

  But as he stared across the room at Serafina, standing beside her best friend Emma and his sister Annabelle, he realized for what must have been the tenth time in the last three hours that he was staring at his bride.

  She was a beautiful bride as well. Her expensive gown fit her to perfection, the creamy color accentuating her porcelain skin, the veil perched upon the soft curls of her blonde hair. Her blue eyes flitted toward him, daring to pause on his face for only a moment before they darted back to her companions.

  So he still made her nervous. It was something he had to remedy over time, despite how bewitching she was when high pink color flooded her cheeks. He wanted to make that color spread all over her lush body.

  “We’re down to the last stragglers,” Crispin said as he brought over a glass of champagne.

  Rafe took it and nodded as he looked at the riffraff left behind. Family still mingled, yes, but also a few half-drunk lords and ladies. Ones he didn’t know from a horse on the cart, of course. Friends had left long ago out of respect for the new couple and their odd circumstances.

  “The stragglers who don’t want to leave a sandwich uneaten or a drink unimbibed.” He sighed. “Can you help me to move them along? I think it is high time I was alone with my new wife.” Crispin nodded, but made no move to do as he had agreed. Rafe tilted his head in question. “What is it?”

  His brother faced him, shifting with what was obvious discomfort. “I wanted to tell you how sorry I am, Rafe. That you have to inh
erit these burdens is unfair. And I would be a help to you if I can be.”

  Rafe smiled, a swell of love for Crispin rising up in him. “I have your sword, then?” he asked, teasing to diffuse the seriousness a touch.

  Crispin returned the grin. “Always. And I will use it now to clear the room as you have demanded.”

  He clapped a hand on Rafe’s shoulder and moved toward the remaining guests, speaking softly to them as he maneuvered them toward the exits.

  It seemed to take Serafina a few moments to realize what was being done. When she did, she started and her gaze moved to Rafe again before she embraced her friend Emma and said goodbye to Emma’s husband. Rafe smiled as Annabelle hugged his new bride too. In a few short days, the women had seemed to bond and it made him happy to think his wife and his sister would be on good terms.

  Annabelle took their mother’s arm and the two women moved toward him. Their mother sniffled, as she had all day.

  “It was a beautiful ceremony, rushed though it may have been,” she said as she clasped his hand in hers.

  He squeezed her fingers in response. “It was, Mama. Thank you for all you’ve done these past few days, both to counsel me and to make Serafina feel welcome in our family.”

  She looked over her shoulder at her first daughter-in-law. “I like her, Rafe,” she said with a soft, reflective smile. “I hope you two will be happy.”

  He barely contained a flinch. His poor mother had endured a great deal over the years between two wild sons who indulged too much and a husband who had been only marginally better before his untimely death. If she knew that he and Serafina had bargained for a false marriage driven only by the creation of heirs…

  Well, she would roll her eyes and say his name in that tone that spoke of her disappointment.

  “Thank you, Mama,” he said, briefly kissing first her cheek and then his sister’s. “Good night.”

  They both repeated the farewell and headed for the foyer with his brother close behind. Rafe straightened his shoulders and moved to his bride across the suddenly empty room.