Cherish and the Duke (The Silver Dukes #1)

Chapter Twelve

A s Gawain marched out of Cherish’s bedchamber, he heard Cherish’s uncle start up the stairs in search of her. The oaf’s heavy footfalls clomped on each step as he continued to shout her name. “Cherish! Where are you? Do not make this worse for yourself!”

Gawain was not a praying man, but he was now feverishly praying Cherish would use some sense and let him handle this matter while she remained safely hidden in her bedchamber. He came face to face with her uncle just in time to prevent him from advancing beyond the stairs. They’d reached the landing at the same moment, but Gawain was a big man and easily able to block this oaf’s path.

“Take another step, Northam, and I shall toss you down the stairs headfirst.” He folded his arms over his chest and positioned himself at the top step in order to pose an impenetrable barrier between Northam and his niece.

“You had better do as he says, Uncle,” Cherish said, softly padding up behind Gawain as she clearly ignored all his warnings to keep herself safely tucked away.

Blast the girl. He ought to be angry. He was angry. But he also wanted to hold Cherish in his arms and protect her with his life.

Not that he felt either of them were presently in serious danger of losing their lives at the hands of her bellowing uncle. The man was big, but out of shape and no match for Gawain. However, Cherish was little and did not stand a chance of defending herself.

He had no idea what Northam might do to her once he got her back home. He fully expected the cur would beat her for defying him. Surely Cherish had to know this.

Gawain would kill him if he ever raised a hand to her.

He nudged her firmly behind him. “That is far enough. You can talk to him from there.”

She sighed, but did not try to skirt around him again. “Uncle, why don’t we all go into Lady Shoreham’s study and discuss this misunderstanding like reasonable adults?”

“You defied me!”

“How? I am a grown woman capable of making my own decisions. I have every right to choose my own friends, and I resent your coming here and upsetting us all by howling like a banshee at this hour of the morning. I am no runaway child. Nor am I an idiot, so do not insult my intelligence by pretending you care whether I live or die.”

“Your father left me in charge of you,” Northam growled as he lunged for her.

Gawain held him off and ordered Fiona’s footmen, who had been chasing her uncle and now stood just behind him on the stairs, to restrain him. “Take him into Lady Shoreham’s study and hold him there until I arrive. If he struggles, you have my permission to toss him headfirst over the railing.”

That quieted the man. He gave no struggle as they marched him away.

Gawain turned to Cherish. “Why must you be so contrary? I am trying to protect you. Stay up here until further notice.”

“Why must you be so pigheaded? You have no right to order me about. I am coming with you.”

“No, you are not.”

Her eyes widened and she clenched her fists. “You really are being insufferable, you know.”

“Me? I seem to be the only one using any common sense. Can you not see he is dangerous to you?”

She cast him a pained look. “Of course I see it. This is precisely why it is important for me to hold my ground now.”

He held her back when she tried to descend the stairs.

“Why won’t you allow me to confront my uncle?”

“Do you really need to ask? Do you still not get it? He may have quieted for the moment, but he is a raging bull and you are a…” He groaned. “You are a kitten.”

Her mouth dropped open to form a perfect O , and she let out a soft breath. “Is this what you think of me? A helpless kitten? I resent that! I can fight my own battles.”

“Blessed saints, you are a stubborn thing. You cannot even ride a horse, and you think to take on a raging bull?” He wanted to howl in frustration. Could anything more go wrong this morning?

Her expression turned pained once again. “That is not fair.”

“I know. Forgive me, Cherish. But I am so worried about what he might do to you. Knowing when to retreat is just as important as knowing when to march forward and fight. But this is something you do not seem to comprehend. If I had a key to your room, I would hide you inside and keep you safely locked away until I am finished with your uncle. Why are you meddling when I am trying to get rid of the fool on your behalf?”

Her uncle was just the sort to fight dirty, too. The churl would not hesitate to hurt Cherish. Why did she refuse to see this?

“Stop treating this as a lark,” Gawain continued. “Can you not see he is too incensed to be reasonable?”

“Of course I can. But I am outraged, too. What right does he have to tell me who to see or where to go or what to do? I have no intention of confronting him alone. I want you with me. I am delighted to have you by my side, especially now that you are so puffed up like an enormous bullfrog.”

“A bullfrog?” Was this what she thought he was doing? Croaking warnings at her?

She sighed. “If you must know, you make my insides melt.”

He groaned.

“I’ll be all right,” she said softly. “He won’t dare put a hand on me while you are standing beside me.”

“Which entirely begs the point—what will he do to you when I am not around to protect you?”

“This is precisely the reason why I must take the lead in confronting him. If you do it, he will walk all over me once I am back at Northam Hall.” She pursed her lips, obviously concerned about what might happen to her once she returned home.

They were such sweet lips, and all he wanted to do was kiss them. Well, that would have to wait until the danger to her had passed.

Yes, he was going to kiss her. So much for his brilliant matchmaking plans. That scheme had completely blown up in his face. He wanted this girl and was not about to let anyone else have her. More important, he could never allow anyone to hurt her.

“I am not going to fight with you, Cherish.”

She nodded. “Good, let’s go. Fiona’s footmen ought to have him tied down by now.”

“No one has tied him down. Stay behind me and do not utter another word.” If she thought this meant he was about to let her have her way, she was mistaken. He marched downstairs, intending to confront Northam in the privacy of Fiona’s study. However, guests were already gathered in the entry hall, curious as to what was happening.

He was certainly providing plenty of entertainment fodder. Two circuses going on at once. Had Fiona sent Lady Albin packing yet?

He ignored everyone’s questions as he made his way to the study. Northam’s bellows carried beyond closed doors.

To Gawain’s dismay, the footmen were once again wrestling with Cherish’s uncle. Gawain motioned for the hapless footmen to release Northam. “But do not leave. Remain behind me and do not allow that cur anywhere near Lady Cherish.”

The door remained open once he walked in, because all the onlookers now crowded the doorway and spilled into the entry hall. Those in the back now craned their necks, eager to hear what was about to be discussed.

So much for privacy or discretion. The London gossip rags would have to print double editions to fit all the scandals happening at Fiona’s house party.

“You ought to be ashamed of yourself,” Cherish chided her uncle as the crowd parted for her, allowing her to follow Gawain into the study.

Gawain nudged her behind him. “Quiet.”

“Of all the gall,” she muttered, and was about to pop around him again, but he held her firmly back in place. It was easy to do, since she was little and his hands were big enough that he only needed one to keep her pinned against him. As he did so, he grazed her arm and felt moisture on the fabric of her sleeve.

Her elbow was bleeding again. Bollocks. He wanted to get this scene over with so he could tend to her properly and make certain she rested.

“Oh, drat,” she said, also noticing the blood.

Gawain passed her his handkerchief. “Keep it pressed to your elbow.”

“Thank you, but I am still irritated with you for—”

“Cherish!” Gad, they would have lost the war to Napoleon in two days if all his soldiers behaved as unreasonably as she did. “Enough, love. Do as I say.”

Did he just call her love ?

Bollocks again.

How had that slipped out? Had she even heard him? Everyone else surely had, and now there would be another scandal tossed into the pot.

Cherish was still muttering about his apishly protective instincts and how annoying they were.

He was a duke. A Silver Duke. Not some great mountain ape running amok in Fiona’s study.

Perhaps he was not as calm or rational as he thought, for he wanted to pound Cherish’s uncle to dust. “Why are you here, Northam?”

The look of loathing Northam cast Cherish did not bode well for the girl. What was going on?

“She’s coming back with me,” Northam spat out. “I’ll send for her things later.”

Gawain planted his legs wide and crossed his arms over his chest. “No. Cherish stays here.”

He wished more footmen were on hand to grab this man and toss him out, but most were already occupied assisting Fiona and Reggie in sending Lady Albin packing. Another unwanted guest who would not leave.

Well, it was of no moment. He would handle Northam by himself. He only needed the footmen to keep Cherish from meddling.

Where was Durham? Or Fellstone? He would not mind their assistance, too. They would be better able to keep Cherish safe if a fight broke out and fists flew. Not that he intended to instigate a fight or ever strike the first blow. But Northam had his hands curled into fists and was obviously contemplating taking a swing at him.

“Let’s sit like gentlemen and discuss this peacefully,” Gawain suggested to Northam as they stared each other down.

“She’s my niece. No discussion. I’ll give you peaceful,” her uncle growled, and threw a punch. Gawain easily sidestepped him. The howling clod tripped over his own feet and wound up sprawled on the floor. The onlookers laughed, but this only served to further infuriate him. “I’ll get you for this, Cherish!”

Gawain planted a boot firmly on his back, preventing him from getting up. “Northam, stop making a nuisance of yourself and go home,” he said in his authoritative voice normally reserved for soldiers serving under his battle command.

Her uncle’s expression turned menacing when he saw Cherish now standing beside Gawain. “You little witch!”

“Oh, a witch, am I? Put a hand on me and I will come at you with my broomstick, you odious man. I’ll turn you into a newt and your odious wife into mare’s sweat. How dare you threaten me!”

Gawain sighed. Was no one capable of behaving?

“Indeed, Northam. That is no way to speak to a lady. Apologize to your niece or I will not let you up.”

Her uncle began to curse at him instead.

Was the man daft, speaking so disrespectfully to him or his niece? But he was obviously a low creature, not the sort anyone of stature would ever allow into their drawing room. “You have embarrassed your niece enough. Since you refuse to behave like a gentleman, you and I shall step outside and deal with each other accordingly.”

“And I shall have your guts for garters!” Northam howled, then cursed the moment Gawain shoved him to his feet.

He had barely regained his footing before he lashed out at Cherish again. “You’ll feel the back of my hand the moment I get you home. As for Lady Shoreham—”

“Shut up, Northam,” Gawain warned. “It is one thing to insult me, but I will not have you threatening the ladies.”

“That’s right,” Cherish said, also determined to come to the defense of Fiona. “Lady Shoreham is blameless. I alone defied you, and I shall do it again and again. You have no hold over me.”

To Gawain’s dismay, more onlookers had gathered in the entry hall. They ambled in from all over the house. Some from the dining room, some still in their bedclothes, having just come out of their bedchambers, all of them eager to witness the scene unfold. Adding to Gawain’s irritation was the presence of his one-time love, Lady Albin. Had she not been put in her carriage and driven off yet?

Blessed saints.

Would this woman never leave? She stood before him with a condescending smirk on her face. “What a happy little scene,” she tossed out with a bitter laugh.

None of Fiona’s other guests were laughing now, for they understood the seriousness of Cherish’s situation.

He spared a glance at Cherish, who was still steaming over her uncle’s behavior and probably had not heard Lady Albin’s snide remark because she was too busy threatening to ram a broomstick up his arse, though she used a more polite word to describe Northam’s rear.

And now she was threatening to turn him into a turnip and bury him in a turnip patch. “And do not think the Northam Hall servants will ever allow you to beat me or lock me away. They will leap to my defense.”

Gawain would talk to her later. He was glad she had the spine to hold her ground with her uncle, and perhaps he had underestimated her resolve. Or overestimated the threat behind her uncle’s bluster. That Cherish did not appear afraid of his physical threats probably meant he had not struck her before. But that did not mean she was safe from a beating. There was always a first time.

Right now, he meant to remain an impenetrable barrier between these two Northams. Why was the vile earl here? What was really going on that he had to tear home a week early and drag his niece away from Fiona’s party?

As the oaf spouted more threats against Cherish, Gawain knew what he had to do. She was no prisoner, nor would she ever be any man’s drudge. She could not remain under that man’s roof a single night longer.

Cherish must have decided this same thing, for she took a deep breath and then tried to speak over her uncle’s ranting. “Stop shouting at me. You can scream until you are blue in the face, but I am never going back with you.”

“Think again, you useless, deceitful chit!”

“Whatever I must face next, it shall be better than spending another moment under your roof. Get out of this house and never come near me again. The next time you approach me, I shall shoot you.”

“With what, you stupid girl?”

“With the weapon I shall personally hand her,” Gawain said, seriously tempted to withdraw his pistol at this very moment and aim it at Northam’s gut. But he did not wish to escalate this matter, so he made no move to reach into the boot where he kept the weapon holstered. “You heard the lady. She told you to get out. If you refuse, I will toss you out myself.”

“And he has the muscle to do it, too,” Cherish interjected with an air of satisfaction.

“Where will you go, Cherish?” her uncle said. “Into this man’s arms? Has he already had you?”

“This man?” She gasped and skittered forward once more, too irate to keep a safe distance from this oaf.

Gawain drew her back to keep her out of her uncle’s reach. Gad, these Northams did not take kindly to orders.

She cast him a look of irritation before addressing her uncle. “Do you not know who he is? This is the Duke of Bromleigh. The duke. And you were foolish enough to insult him and then try to strike him.”

“What do I care, you insolent girl? I demand you come back with me now. How else are you to keep a respectable roof over your head? Or have you already decided to go with the duke and become his mistress? How long do you think it will take him to tire of you and leave you destitute? Will you slink back to Lady Shoreham then? And hope she will take a ruined girl like you on as her scullery maid, for that is all you will be good for?”

“Enough, Northam,” Gawain said, knowing it was long past time to take proper charge. He ought to have hauled the bounder out immediately and kicked him into the mud. But Cherish had needed to confront him, as misguided as her reasoning was.

Well, she had told him off sufficiently, and nothing more needed to be said.

He stared down the unpleasant man. “You have now insulted your niece, Lady Shoreham, and myself. It is time for you to go. Lady Cherish will not be returning with you, just so we are clear about this.”

“Then I shall be clear about my position as well. If she defies me, I shall not allow her back into my home to retrieve any of her belongings, not even a single stitch of clothing. What do you say to that?”

“Lady Shoreham will help her out with any clothes she needs. So will I, if it becomes necessary. It is pocket change for me.”

Cherish frowned at him. He ignored her. He knew she had pride and would not sponge off her best friend beyond accepting a gown or two, but that was irrelevant at the moment.

Nor would she take so much as a ha’penny from him. Also irrelevant at the moment.

He meant to marry her and make her his duchess.

She tipped her chin in the air. “I shall find myself a respectable position as companion or governess. I am not afraid to work, nor am I so deluded as to believe His Grace will rush forward and offer something beyond a new wardrobe, which I will refuse from him because it is unseemly for a bachelor to offer such a thing to me. He is a Silver Duke. They do not marry.”

Gawain frowned. “Cherish—”

“Please, Your Grace. I know you cannot offer me anything more. I will manage on my own.”

It tore at him that she dared not count on him beyond an insignificant wardrobe. Did she think he would simply abandon her?

Blessed saints, he wanted her in his life forever. She was nothing like Lady Albin. That woman was maliciously smug and enjoying Cherish’s downfall.

Reggie stepped forward. “I could marry you, Cherish.”

She gasped and glanced in dismay at Margaret, who now looked as though someone had shoved a sword through her heart. The poor girl was about to burst into tears. “Yes,” Margaret said, her lips quivering and tears forming in her eyes, “it is right that you must. Cherish is our friend and needs to be protected.”

“No, Reggie,” Cherish said with determination. “You deserve someone whose heart lights up for you.” She gave Margaret a hug. “I will not marry him when it is obvious he deserves someone as fine as you.”

Gawain sighed. Yes, that little peahen, Margaret, truly adored his nephew. Even he, as thickheaded as he was and resistant to matters of love and marriage, had noticed how much the sweet girl cared for Reggie. Nor had it escaped his notice that Reggie was growing to care for her. Perhaps it was not an all-consuming love yet, but Margaret’s genuine adulation was bringing out the better part of his nephew, and Gawain liked what he had been seeing these past few days.

To his dismay, Fellstone stepped forward next. “Lady Cherish…”

“Oh, no. You too?” She shook her head with vehemence, then winced and put a hand to her temple. “You cannot want me when you have no idea what sort of dowry I will bring to our marriage or whether my toad of an uncle will ever release it without a legal battle. And honestly, do you really want to be connected in any way to him and his equally wretched wife?”

Fellstone grimaced and stepped back into the crowd.

Gawain knew Fellstone was not a bad sort, but he was in need of a wife with substantial funds and could not afford the luxury of falling in love with someone who might turn out to be poor.

Lord Northam’s mouth curled into an ugly sneer. Unable to get at Cherish, since Gawain still blocked him, the fool attempted to punch Gawain again. He easily avoided the blow and twisted Northam’s arm behind his back with enough force to bring the wretched fellow to his knees again. “Stay down,” he commanded, angry with himself for making a bungle of the entire incident.

He should have gone downstairs upon first hearing Northam’s bellows, grabbed him by the scruff of his neck, and hauled him out of the house before allowing him to utter another word. But Cherish would have come down with him, barefoot and indecently dressed, for everyone to ogle.

Now, they were surrounded by every last one of Fiona’s guests, who had listened in as Northam debased and utterly humiliated Cherish. “Stay down or I will beat you senseless. Your brains will make quite a splat on Lady Shoreham’s lovely Florentine marble floor.”

Her uncle began to squeal like a pig as he squirmed and yelped and tried to escape his grasp, but Gawain was stronger and would not let him up, for he had reached his limit of patience.

Fiona’s guests began to laugh and cheer, for the vile creature was finally getting his due.

But Cherish was not laughing. In truth, she appeared on the verge of tears.

It was bad enough Margaret was crying, but did Cherish have to cry, too?

Someone in the crowd urged Gawain to beat up her uncle. Cherish’s eyes rounded in alarm as others began to urge the same. “Your Grace, you must not!”

He glanced at her. “Why not? Does he not deserve it? Are you sure you do not want me to do it and rid you of this pesky problem?”

She gasped. “Perhaps I dream of it, but only in jest. You cannot harm him.”

“Even after he spoke to you the way he did?” He cast Northam a lethal glance, eager to tear this man apart limb from limb. “Cherish, no one has the right to treat you in this manner.”

“I know, but you will only have trouble piled on you if you hurt him.”

“If you think I am going to stand by while he mistreats you, then you had better think again. Is this how he always talks to you?”

“No, he’s never bellowed at me like this before. Truly, this is something new.” She inched closer to stand by his side. “But he’s… I don’t know why he is behaving this way, quite frankly. One would think he was afraid to have me leave him. But I assure you, he and his wife would not care if I dropped dead in front of them tomorrow.”

“But they would care if you married tomorrow. Is that not so, Northam? I saw how you blanched when my nephew and Lord Fellstone stepped forward.”

Her uncle attempted to grab her again, but Gawain still had him pinned and merely jerked on his arm to keep him down. He then ordered Fiona’s footmen to take him and hold him, which they did with renewed zeal. “Northam, Lady Cherish is no longer yours. You are never to touch her or come near her without her permission, or you shall find yourself dealing with me.”

“Who are you to stop me?” her uncle hissed. “I am her guardian.”

“And I am Bromleigh. Bromleigh ,” Gawain said in a roar, as though his name alone could send a shiver through the loathsome man.

“You shall never have her,” he hissed again. “I will never give my consent to a marriage.”

Cherish laughed. “He is a Silver Duke. They do not marry.”

“First of all,” Gawain said, barely containing his rage, which was mostly directed at himself for having everyone believe he was cold as ice and his heart could never thaw to accept another person into his life, “she is beyond the age of consent and free to marry whomever she wishes. Second, I do not need your consent to question your solicitor about the old earl’s bequests to his daughter. In fact, I shall order an accounting done this very day on her behalf.”

“You have no right!”

“How much did you pay his solicitor to collude with you in cheating your niece? You do not fool me for a moment, Northam. I know what you are doing to her, as does she. The difference is that she is powerless against you, but I am not. You shall not get away with stealing her inheritance.”

“You cannot threaten me! I am her guardian. You are nobody to her. I shall bring you up on charges in the House of Lords!”

“Cherish, please…let my uncle beat him unconscious,” Reggie called out.

“I’ll assist,” Fiona added.

Durham, Fellstone, and several other guests insisted on joining in.

Cherish’s uncle turned his rage on all around them. “You shall all be brought up on charges if you dare set a hand on me!”

“Enough of this farce,” Gawain said, the glint in his eyes now revealing the depth of his own fury. “I assure you, Lord Northam, your actions today will reach royal ears. When I am through with you, you will be on your knees groveling at my feet and begging for mercy.”

“You are bluffing.”

“I never bluff.” He turned back to Cherish. “Tell me what the Northam staff ought to pack for you. Reggie, Durham, and I will ride over with your uncle to see that it is properly done. And I believe there is jewelry of yours he and his wife have taken. Write down which pieces, and I shall personally take them into my custody.”

By this time, most of the house party guests were making quiet bets among themselves as to what was going to happen next. Would Gawain punch her uncle? Would her uncle attempt to punch Gawain again? Would Cherish leave with her uncle?

The one thing not wagered on was whether Gawain would marry her. It was not in consideration, of course. As everyone was eager to point out, he was a Silver Duke and marriage was out of the question. And why would Cherish think any differently? After all, he had rejected Lady Albin, so what chance did Cherish ever have of gaining an offer from him?

But they were all wrong.

He wanted her more than he had ever wanted anything or anyone in his life. He wanted her even though she was irksome and stubborn, and had not listened to a word he said while he had been trying to protect her.

In truth, he was proud of her for wanting to stand up to her uncle. At the same time, he was frustrated and mad as blazes that she wanted to do it on her own.

He would have turned into a veritable beast if her uncle had set a hand on her.

“Cherish,” he said softly, running his fingers through her hair to lightly brush the strands behind her little, curled ears, “there is one more thing we need to clarify before I leave to collect your things.”

She nodded. “I’ll make my list right away. There isn’t much I want from that house. He’s already ruined most of it.”

“No, you mistake my meaning.”

She looked up at him, truly having no idea what he was asking. “My list is short and I will prepare it quickly. Is this not what we are talking about?”

“No.” Gawain shook his head and cleared his throat.

“Oh, then what do you need me to do?”

Bollocks.

He so badly wanted to kiss this girl.

“Cherish,” he said with a soft ache to his voice, running his knuckle lightly along the line of her jaw, “I need you to marry me. This is what I need you to do and what I am asking with all sincerity.”

She blinked. “What?”

A collective gasp rose from the crowd, after which they all turned silent so that one could hear a pin drop.

Cherish blinked again. “Are you serious?”

“Never more serious or determined about anything in my life.” He heard more gasps as he bent on one knee before her.

“Oh, dear heaven,” she said in a whisper.

He took her hand in his. “Cherish Northam, will you marry me?”