The Blue-Eyed Black-Hearted Duke Read online

  “Go on, my dear. I am here for you,” Camille whispered.

  “A young gardener, massive and strong, appeared as if from the earth, and came between us. He said mother superior had requested my attendance at once. In my mind, that knight in armor saved me. He extended his hand and led me out of the maze. Almost hysterical, his voice calmed me. Outside of the schoolroom, he told me he became suspicious and followed us. He warned me that the dancing instructor was the nephew of the mother superior and the girls realized that it would be best to avoid him at all costs—never to be alone with the man. After that, Josette and I became inseparable. The gardener mentioned the instructor would leave within two weeks. My knight promised to look after me. I believed him and trusted his goodness with all my heart.”

  “Poor girl, you were fortunate to find such a noble man.”

  Jaclyn whispered, “Camille, my protector was dismissed. I could never find out what happened to him. If they hurt him, I would never forgive myself. I don’t know if I can feel anymore. Everyone I’ve loved is gone. My father is dead. My mother ran off and abandoned me. Too much has happened.”

  “Goodness, we should give thanks that you survived. We have Radolf to protect us.” Her face glowed with emotion as she clutched Jaclyn’s hands.

  “God must have ordained my rescue because the summons from Wolferton came, and mother superior attended upon me herself. The horrid instructor of the dance left the school. I did not stray far from mother superior, and she recognized my fear. She might have suspected something, but then I was on my way to you and your brother. God favored me, and I am grateful forever.”

  Conscious of her nervous perspiration, she removed her hands from Camille’s. Rubbing, twisting, and intertwining them only to press them together in a prayerful manner. Her eyes closed, she relived every fearful moment of those days. Shadows existed where they’d never been before. Corners were approached in trepidation. Sounds magnified like drumbeats. If Josette couldn’t be with her, she’d rush to the chapel, which was always a beehive of activity. Altar cloths needed to be changed. Statues needed dusting. She came to enjoy a high polish on the candlesticks since it took so much time, and she could relax in the serenity of such quiet company with all the young girls at silent work.

  “Jaclyn, let’s take comfort in the fact you will never be forced to accept a man for whom you have no affection. I know my brother will want to find the perfect mate for you, and he will allow you to make up your mind as to suitability.”

  She sniffled. “Rest assured, it will not be Halifax. He’s most unfavorable.” Jaclyn rested her shoulders to lessen the weight that bore on her emotions.

  “It will be a challenge to see how my brother controls Halifax around you. He can be possessive as well as protective because he believes it is his duty to you.” Camille placed her fingers to her forehead and rubbed at her temple.

  “Do you have a headache?” Jaclyn asked.

  Camille nodded. “Yes, I’ll ring for fresh tea and a cordial. How about you? Think you require both? I confess I do. By now, Radolf has already imbibed his second glass of French cognac. It would not be uncommon for him to challenge the blighter.”

  Jaclyn remained in her seat, her hands clasped on her lap as a wave of fatigue rained over her. Yes, it was the memory of the horrid French dancing instructor and his unwanted advances that brought emotions back. Jaclyn exerted every effort to stifle a sob.

  At that precise moment, Wolferton walked into the room. Their faces told a story. “From what I can see, there’s been a serious discussion here.” He went toward Jaclyn. “I overheard part of your conversation. There is no need for you to sob. I will never force you into any relationship you do not want. I am your protector in all things.”

  “No,” she cried. “I lost one protector. I couldn’t bear to lose you, too.”

  He was not prepared for Jaclyn to run into his arms. He splayed his hands across her back. “For anyone to hurt you, Miss Jaclyn, they’d have to conquer me. I assure you it will never happen. I was once told by a dear friend that I had part wolf blood in my veins. Those were your father’s words.” Her vulnerability spoke to him in a manner he understood.

  He remembered when another young girl looked at him with frightened eyes for help, as his father flaunted her weakness all those years ago. Isabella. Precious Isabella brought so low by his evil sire. Worst of all, he would always commit to memory his father’s vengeful lesson.

  His arms around Jaclyn made him feel, perhaps for the first time in years, there was a part of him decent and good. He wasn’t sure how long he held her, but time was no longer relevant. Her sobs subsided, and she continued to hold him to her. Wolferton rested his head on hers. His voice meant to soothe and comfort, the way he would a wounded doe or a baby wolf. “Cry all you want. Let your fears out so I can capture them, so they’ll never haunt you again.” He swayed with her in his arms, in a slow, vague rhythm. When her tears diminished, he withdrew and led her to the settee next to Camille. He joined her and held her hands. “I can’t protect you if I don’t know who has caused you such grief. Was it Halifax?”

  She shook her head and clenched one of his hands so tightly his finger nails bit into his flesh.

  “No? So it goes back further to another time and another place?”

  Jaclyn nodded. Her wide-eyed, terrified expression made him realize she’d been traumatized by something, or someone else. It was the same look he’d seen on some of his soldiers as they went to battle prepared to face death, or when they returned from an encounter so horrific, it made them want to forfeit their lives at the terror of the sights seen.

  Chapter Seven

  The Solemn Promise

  “Jaclyn, I am not a mind reader. You will have to tell me what happened. I can only assume something went amiss at your school?” Wolferton asked his charge.

  Camille ran her hand over Jaclyn’s head. “Hush, now. Your past is gone. Your future is here. Embrace it, my dear.”

  “You tell him, please.” She wiped tears away.

  Camille raised the girl’s head to her breast and whispered, “Trust your guardian. You are safe now.”

  “Brother, this is difficult to explain…” After his sister related the story, she said, “Jaclyn fears they murdered the young gardener. She didn’t quite say so, but it’s how I interpreted it. Can we all have a strong libation?”

  He rang for Halbert, who entered within seconds. He went to the liquor cabinet, poured three drinks, and served them.

  “Will there be anything else, Your Grace?”

  “No, you may leave. Close the door behind you.”

  The servant nodded and left.

  Now Wolferton sat next to his ward and spoke with a soft but firm voice, “Miss Jaclyn, come to me. Take a sip from this glass. It’s strong but will calm you.”

  He had to pry her away from his sister, and then Jaclyn faced him, eyelids lowered.

  “Must I order you to drink some of this? Bad things happen to us in our lifetimes. Believe me, I know all about such issues. Now, drink.”

  She sipped as he held it but still avoided his gaze. “I didn’t think you were a coward. You had courage when you needed it. Didn’t you caution me about color selections at the modiste? Call upon that bravery and regard it as a badge of honor, not shame. What happened was regrettable, but it is not the end of your world. As my sister indicated, you have a new start here.”

  Camille nodded. “Radolf is right, my dear.”

  She took her glass and gulped it down in one fell swoop. “I feel better already.”

  Camille managed to coax a laugh from Jaclyn.

  “You won’t write mother superior, will you?” she asked the duke.

  “I am angry someone I entrusted with your care betrayed me…and you. Now, I, for one, am famished. I believe we skipped luncheon.” In total command of the abysmal situation, he declared, “Dinner is in one hour, and I would like both my ladies in attendance. Jaclyn, I have a surprise gift for you
I hope you’ll like.”

  He rose. “I will not tolerate tardiness.” But his mirthful smile belied his words. “I have men’s work to perform in my study. Both of you may go on your way to your rooms.” He waved his hands at them in jestful dismissal.

  They ascended the stairs. No conversation ensued.

  Back in his study, he reviewed the situation in his mind. True, Jaclyn had her first encounter with a licentious scoundrel. True, it left its mark on her. It was also true they now shared a secret, and it had become a burden to all of them. She was not alone. If the schoolmaster were in his presence now, he would run a sword through his gullet and disembowel the bounder.

  He turned to the Guardian’s window. “You knew all about this, didn’t you? Is it why she was sent to me for protection? Most of all, does she have special meaning in my life since it’s apparent she can see you too? Is she the chosen one? All these questions and you do not answer.”

  About to turn away, the wolf’s eyes turned blue, and the animal gave a distinct howl. Such sounds were not normal. At the immensity of the implication Jaclyn would play an important part in his life, he raised his hands in supplication. “Why me? I am not worthy of such a prize.”

  Blue eyes winked, and another howl ensued. This time it was longer than the first.

  He turned back to sit at his desk and pondered the last few minutes. Perhaps his surprise would cheer Jaclyn, and she could divert her attention to it. With his left elbow on the desk, he placed a hand to his forehead, which had become as cold as his hand. First, it soothed him with its icy appeal—almost, but not quite. It occurred to him he had not finished the list of possible suitors for Jaclyn.

  Wolferton cast a gaze upward to the ceiling and muttered. “Henri, this daughter of yours will be the death of me yet. I kept my pledge, but never would I have believed she would stun me with her beauty and charm.” He made a tsking sound and grinned.

  There was a tap on his door. “Enter,” he said.

  Halbert announced, “Your Grace, Miss Jaclyn’s surprise has arrived. Shall I bring it in?”

  “Where is it? In the kitchen? I’m anxious to see him.” He pushed back his chair, arose, and followed the servant. The puppy had a welcome committee in attendance and had been fed morsels of cut-up meat.

  He laughed but was pleased with the animal. He would help train the dog to become another of Jaclyn’s protectors, but it would take a while. Halbert lifted the dog onto a side table. Wolferton checked the teeth by raising the upper lip. “Good bite, he’ll be a strong one.” Then he closed his eyes and examined the entire length of the animal with his hands, the way he would a horse. Large paws indicated the pup would grow to a good size. The reddish brown puppy licked his hand. Dark amber eyes shone at him. Oh, yes, he’d be perfect.

  “Halbert, right after dessert, we’ll be in the drawing room. Bring him in. This chap is about to become a sound member of our family.” He grinned from ear to ear and then left the room after he petted the puppy again. For him, dinner could not be over soon enough.

  After they finished, he ushered his ladies into the drawing room. He hadn’t even informed Camille of his purchase of the pup.

  Soon Halbert entered with a large basket covered with a plaid blanket.

  Wolferton turned to Jaclyn. “There you are. Come, this is a present for you. I selected it myself.”

  The servant placed the surprise at her feet. She knelt to open it. As soon as Jaclyn removed the cloth, the precocious puppy showed its head. Smiling, she reached to him. He proceeded to lick her hand.

  “Is this for me?”

  The squeal in her voice delighted him. Such a pleasure rewarded both. When was the last time he allowed himself such simplicity? “Yes, you’ll have to give him a name.” Wolferton stood near the mantel entranced with the familial scene. Heaven knows he’d missed so much in his past, but this moment he’d remember because her face reminded him of a happy cherub.

  Camille ran to her and sat on the floor to pet the dog. “You must be special, my dear. Radolf never brought me a puppy.” Her voice was cheerful and held no malice.

  “I could get you its twin if you want, Camille.” He tapped his finger to the wood.

  “No, brother. I’m happy to see life come into our house. First Jaclyn, and now we have this puppy. We shall all love him for there’s enough within us to share. You’re a good man.”

  Jaclyn held the puppy in her arms, and it raised its snout to her throat and face. Squirming, the animal lifted a small paw to her shoulder. If an artist could paint her face and this scene, it would be worthy of a gallery display.

  Well pleased, he laughed. “What will you name him?’

  “Wolferton, thank you for this wonderful gift. As for a name, his orange-red coat and brown eyes remind me of the stained-glass piece in your study.” She lifted the pup away. “And of you, except your eyes are blue.” A giggle escaped. “His official name will be Sir Loup. It’s a French name for wolf. The salutation is because he is now part of the aristocracy.” She brought the animal nearer her face and whispered, “I think it suits you, my darling.” The puppy rested against her breast. Sweeter words he’d never heard. Was there an inkling of sentiment meant for him? My darling… Would he ever hear such endearments from her? Wolferton experienced a strong dose of desire in his loins. Damn uncomfortable.

  He moved to Jaclyn and took the pup. “We’ll have Halbert give him to a servant to walk. Pups are prone to wet wherever they please. Sir Loup will be returned to you before you retire.” He handed off the wiggling critter.

  Jaclyn ran to him. “You are a splendid man. I’ll no longer feel alone in this strange country of yours.”

  “One day we shall speak of this strange country of England, but not now.”

  Not prepared for her embrace, he had to steady himself as she pressed her breasts to his chest. Without a thought, he pulled her even closer until the caress lasted much too long. He released her. “Of ours, my dear. Of ours, for you are now one of us.”

  Heaven, let it be so. Is this the angel you sent to redeem me?

  Chapter Eight

  The Tormented Heart

  Alone in his study, thoughts invaded Wolferton. Camille’s comment unsettled him because Jaclyn did bring life to their home. His associations with females in his younger years were complex, and not the best. They expected romance and attention—perhaps not in that order, but of a certain, his ward became a puzzle to ponder and explore the depths of those emotions she tried to keep under control. And then her thoughts would spill forth like a cascade to a parched river ready to accept every drop. He was that body of water.

  Wolferton placed the damn suitor’s list back into the folder. He had no head for such falderal at the moment. His only thought was of the vulnerable child who suffered the loss of her father, the abandonment of her mother, and the advances of a scoundrel dancing instructor who betrayed his fiduciary trust. He fought the dormant demon that resurrected. No, Jaclyn was his to protect at all costs.

  There were so many sides to her personality this side of grandeur—and just the other side of angelic innocence. He rose from his chair, went to the Palladian window, and watched the rain pelt the sidewalk, street, and carriages. Restless as hell, he clenched his hands. The young woman, not quite mature, but sophisticated enough to tempt the devil, affected him. His uncomfortable arousal testified she succeeded.

  He addressed the Guardian window with a tightened fist. “Happy now? What have you wrought?”

  No reaction. It then occurred to him he hadn’t lain with a woman for almost five years. No one who knew him would believe such a truth. Yes, this was his problem. He needed a diversion—and he required it sooner than later. After the house retired for the night, he would visit his club, and if still motivated, he’d attend a brothel. Anything to satiate his desire, for he could not—would not—and dared not, violate Jaclyn. Such would be a mortal sin because he’d pledged to protect her—always—from all things—and that included him
. His eternal struggle with honor never lessened.

  After a few swift drinks, with the warm glow of the fire in front of him as he sat, he allowed his mind to wander to those days in exotic treacherous Turkey, a country that lured him with its soul. Sunrise to sunset fueled the monotonous cadence of a life dedicated to the rigid discipline of the military.

  After the war, his commandant had given him a final mission to deliver a confidential parchment to the English ambassador in Istanbul. Not anxious to return home, he accepted the assignment. Weeks passed, and upon arrival, he made his way to the British Embassy. What should have been a few weeks stay turned into a ten-year position training Turkish officers in logistics and strategic warfare. Also, he performed covert intelligence as needed for England. He wore the uniform of an English colonel. When necessary he traveled to strategic cities in Turkey to observe military protocols. Suspicions of all things British were an everyday circumstance, however, it became a case of the devil you knew versus the devil you didn’t know. The Turks realized their troops need for superior training and there were none better than British officers for such a purpose. Both countries believed there would be some sort of military altercation by the Russians.

  During this time, he had an elegant suite in a hotel in Pera with good food and respectful recognition. Months crept into years, and his strategic services reached prominence and the ears of the politicians. One night he answered a knock at his door. A beautiful woman stood in front of him. “Good evening, Effendi—sir. My name is Yasmin. I am here for your pleasure.”

  When he attempted to send the slave girl away, she broke into tears and ran into the room. “They will beat me if they think you are displeased. Please do not tell me to leave.” She fell to her knees and kissed the hem of his garment in the Turkish sign of respect from a woman to a man.