His Duchess (His and Hers 1)

“I wasn’t ravishing her.” A stretching of the truth, but he did wonder how much further things would have gone if they hadn’t been discovered.

“You were doing a good imitation of it,” Northfield muttered. He made his way over to the liquor cabinet and poured them each a brandy. After handing a glass to Taviston he stood before the fireplace in a challenging stance. “What the devil were you thinking? You cannot disappear from a dinner party for almost an hour and not expect someone to come looking for you.” Northfield ran a hand through his longish hair. “I had no idea you had even gone to visit the nursery until Jane questioned what was keeping you, Miss Forster, and Lady Smitherton. The other guests were leaving, hoping to take advantage of a lull in the storm. So Jane, the Brownes, and I made our way upstairs.” Edmund watched him pace around the room. “I, in my innocence, assumed you were all still in the nursery, agog over my son. However, when we arrived there and discovered Lady Smitherton dozing in the corner, and you and Miss Forster missing, things became a bit more panicked.” He caught Taviston’s eye. “I thought it would be infinitely better to have everyone search for you together, in case the Brownes tried to embellish whatever situation you were found in. Turns out there wasn’t much chance of that.”

Taviston leaned against the back of one of the chairs before the fireplace, hanging his head. “I did not plan any of this, on my honor. When Miss Forster and I left the nursery, we were intent on returning to the drawing room. Lady Smitherton must have completely slipped our minds. On the way I remembered the portrait of your great-great grandfather and I wanted to show it to Miss Forster.” He raised his head. Northfield did not look pleased at this bit of information. “She found it amusing and then... I don’t know. We stopped thinking and things just happened.”

With a rueful smile Taviston said, “Would that I had remembered the sitting room off the gallery earlier. We might have been able to avert disaster.” He stood more upright and faced his friend. “I apologize, Northfield. Please forgive me for my behavior this entire evening. It has not been one of my finer hours.”

Northfield broke into a smile. “I would have to say I haven’t ever seen you like this before. Your apology is accepted, of course. And you should consider yourself damned lucky, with the way things turned out.”

“Lucky?” His bitter mood returned full force. “More like cursed. She came to town specifically to find a husband and escape her cousin’s household. And yet she refused my offer of marriage. What, exactly, does that say about me?”

“Taviston, you are being ridiculous,” Northfield admonished, somehow without conveying as much confidence as he should have.

“Am I? You yourself were attempting to arrange a match for her. Yet she would go back to the country with a ruined reputation, rather than marry me.” He mumbled as an afterthought, “A duke, no less.”

He thought briefly about Miss Forster and her bright personality moldering in the countryside, forced to live on the charity of the Brownes, and suppressed a pang of guilt. Taviston glanced at Northfield and was not pleased to see a look of pity in his friend’s eyes. Ah, well. He probably deserved it.

He swallowed the last of his brandy and set his glass down on the table, with a snap. “Think about it, old chum. I compromised a woman in front of five witnesses and yet I

cannot get her to agree to marry me. This does not bode well for my future.”

He turned and headed out the library door. After a moment, Northfield followed him. “Taviston, where are you going?”

“Home.”

“Let me call my carriage for you. It’s still storming outside.”

“No, thank you. I will walk.” Still striding toward the door, Taviston grabbed his hat from Jackson and headed out the door without a backward glance.

“Taviston!” Northfield called after him, futilely.

Chapter Eighteen

The library door stood open. Taviston hesitated before going in. His brothers had called a family meeting, on this, the third morning after the worst night of his life. Peyton and James had extracted the whole sordid story from him that first evening, after he had been plied with a copious amount of brandy. Surely they couldn’t want to hear about it again, but heaven only knew what they did want. All Taviston wanted was to be left alone.

Taking a deep breath, he entered the room. James stood by the unlit fireplace, while Peyton lay sprawled on the sofa, looking like the rakehell he was.

Taviston mumbled a good morning and sank into an overstuffed chair.

Peyton sat up and stared at him a long time before speaking. “What is the matter with you? For someone who told me just a week ago he had no interest whatsoever in Miss Victoria Forster, you are taking this rather hard. I would think you would be nothing short of jubilant since you have escaped marriage to a most unsuitable woman.”

Taviston glowered at his brother. “Is this what you called me in here for?”

James cleared his throat and shifted the shoulder that rested on the mantel. “Taviston, I think what Peyton is trying to say, in his own way, is that it’s time for you to carry on. This incident, however horrible it may have been, is in the past.” James looked over at Peyton, obviously seeking confirmation.

“Isn’t that what I said?” Peyton asked, holding up his hands. He let them fall and turned more fully toward Taviston. “You need to get back to living, resume normal activities.”

“Like sleeping and eating,” James clarified. “Dunne says you haven’t slept more than an hour or two a night.” He gave Taviston a reproving look.

Brilliant. His brothers were attempting to be his caretakers now. He lowered his head into his hands.

“Taviston,” Peyton began, “we are only looking out for your well-being.” He smiled impishly. “If you were to take ill and turn up your toes, why, I would be the next Duke of Taviston, and God knows we cannot allow that under any circumstances!”

James’s blue eyes all but pleaded with Taviston. “Please, save us all from such a fate.”

Taviston gave them a small smile for their attempts to restore his spirits, but it slowly slid away. “You do not understand. I am only bracing myself for the scandal.”

Peyton looked exasperated. “What scandal? There is no scandal. Miss Forster chose to return to the country and all of you agreed the incident would be kept quiet.”