To Pleasure A Duke (The Husband Hunters Club #3)

Chapter 1

Chapter One

Eugenie’s first meeting with the Duke of Somerton

Three months earlier

E ugenie tugged at the rope. On the other end of it Erik, until recently the family billy goat, shook his head and gave her a pleading look from his pale blue eyes. At least, it appeared pleading to her, and that was because Erik knew he had gone too far this time when he’d broken through the wooden fence into the drying yard, and eaten an item of the family’s clothing.

If he’d eaten the boys’ underwear or even Eugenie’s shift and petticoat, it wouldn’t have mattered so much—they would have forgiven him. But instead Erik had chosen to munch on Mrs. Belmont’s Parisian cap with cerise ribbons, a garment she treasured above all others. When she discovered the few remaining scraps Erik had discarded as unpalatable—a ribbon flower or what was left of it—she promptly threw hysterics.

“Take that animal back to Farmer Bartholomew,” she’d ordered, her voice husky from shrieking. “I won’t have it here any longer. The—the beast. I don’t want to set eyes on it ever again.”

Eugenie, whose task it was to put the weeping twins and ten-year-old Jack to bed, had hoped that the morning might bring a reprieve for Erik. But no amount of pleading would change her mother’s mind and suggestions that Erik should be congratulated for his good taste in choosing that particular item were greeted with strangled sobs. In fact it seemed that a night without her beloved cap had only hardened her resolve.

The goat would have to go.

“Genie! Help!”

Eugenie looked around. Her twin brothers, Benjamin and Bertie, had been clambering in the hedgerow and were now caught fast in the prickly brambles.

“We can’t get out, Genie!”

“Don’t pull so, or you’ll tear your clothing. What will Mama say then?”

The boys stopped struggling and Eugenie handed Erik’s rope to Jack, who was trying not to cry. Erik was his special pet, and although the twins were fond of the goat, they’d soon move on to something new. It was Jack who was truly heart-broken and would need Eugenie’s special care. The boy had always had an affinity with animals, something Eugenie tried to encourage. Jack’s menagerie was famous—currently he was caring for a magpie with a broken wing and a mouse with one ear that the cat had brought home.

“Genie!” the twins wailed impatiently, as she set about untangling them from their predicament. Eugenie pretended to scold, as she finally set them free from the brambles. Eight years old and full of mischief, they ran ahead down the lane.

What next? Eugenie sighed. It was as if she lurched from one disaster to another, soothing her mother, untangling her brothers, dreading her father’s next scheme.

The sun was shining and the birds singing and it was a perfect summer’s day. What were other girls her age doing? Visiting friends and going on picnics? Meeting handsome young men who made them ridiculous compliments and stole kisses when their chaperones weren’t watching? As much as she loved her trouble-some family she suddenly wished herself back at Miss Debenham’s. She’d been looking forward to this break, to being home again, but now all she wanted was to be with her friends, who made her feel that her life was full of infinite and exciting possibilities.

“Eugenie!” Jack was wrenching at her hand, desperately trying to gain her attention.

Startled back to reality, Eugenie looked up. A horseman had just come around the corner of the lane and was bearing down upon them at speed.

He was a big man whose dark blue coat flapped behind him, while his face was a blur beneath his hat. He saw them a moment after Eugenie saw him and swerved to allow for such unexpected obstacles. However the twins had never stayed still in their lives and now they flung themselves across his path and into the hedgerow, shrieking with terrified excitement.

The horse tried to avoid the twins, and instead found itself directly in the path of Jack and Eugenie and Erik. Eugenie grabbed her brother tightly in her arms. Erik, his rope loosened, bolted down the lane, kicking up his heels and adding to the confusion. The horse reared with a shrill cry, like a dark angel of death above their heads, wickedly sharp hooves pawing, and then the rider regained control and turned him aside.

Despite her shock—her heart was beating like a drummer boy’s drum—Eugenie could not help but admire the rider’s skill. He’d averted disaster. Although, she reminded herself, if he’d been riding a little less recklessly in the first place none of this would have happened.

She watched him bending low over his horse’s neck, speaking softly, calming the animal. Then he dismounted and Jack, as if responding to some unspoken command, ran to take the reins. Eugenie found herself staring. He had dark eyes in a long, handsome face, and they were narrowed as he strode toward her. With his boots so shiny and his clothing so well made, he could only be a gentleman, but he carried himself with a certain arrogance that went beyond that.

Eugenie’s hands were trembling so she placed them behind her back; she sensed that this man would not respond to weakness. He was a great deal taller than she and now he looked down at her, making use of that height to intimidate.

“What in the blue blazes did you think you were doing, woman? I could have run you down!”

“If you had been more cautious—”

“Cautious?” he repeated, furiously, as if she were insane to suggest it. His eyes were dark and stormy, his hair the same color beneath his hat, and his lips curled. Plainly he’d like to throttle her. She glanced down at his hands, saw them clenched into fists, and took an involuntary step back.

Her movement seemed to bring him to his senses.

“You’re unhurt?” he said, his voice dropping. “The children?”

The twins were standing nearby, watching, for once still and silent, while Jack murmured to the horse. “Shaken, that is all,” she said.

His dark eyes swept over her and she thought for a moment she saw a spark of interest in them. But Eugenie knew she must be mistaken. She wasn’t the sort of girl men found interesting at first sight.

He looked over his shoulder, as if suddenly remembering his mount, and Eugenie followed his gaze, and smiled. Jack had worked his usual magic on the creature. It was resting its chin on his shoulder, nuzzling against him.

“Good God,” the gentleman muttered. “I’ve never seen him do that before.”

“Jack has a way with animals,” Eugenie replied, the pride evident in her voice.

Those dark eyes were back on her again. “And you are, madam?”

Eugenie gave a little smile and dipped a curtsey. “Miss Eugenie Belmont. And these are my brothers, Jack, Bertie, and Ben. We live at Belmont Hall.”

He nodded as if he knew it but she could read the puzzlement in his face. “Somerton,” he said brusquely.

“I beg your pardon?”

“Somerton,” he repeated. “It’s my name.”

“How do you do, Mr. Somerton?” her wretched tongue joked.

He gave her a narrow look. “I beg your pardon?” he repeated her own words back to her.

“I’m sorry. Of course I know you are His Grace, the Duke of Somerton.”

The most important man in the county and reportedly the most eligible man in England, she added in her mind but thankfully did not say it aloud.

He moved toward his horse without replying—he was probably used to people treating him with goggle-eyed reverence. But Erik the billy goat had no such respect for the duke’s position in the realm and he chose that moment to come cantering down the lane and, head lowered, butted the duke square in the buttocks.

His Grace went sprawling most ungracefully, his long body thudding to the ground, arms and legs splayed out, his hat rolling toward Jack’s feet.

“Oh my . . .” Eugenie gasped, shocked into a little giggle. “I am so sorry.”

She hurried to his side, a sharp look at the twins stopping their loud hoots of laughter, or at least muffling them.

Bending down she clutched his arm and tried her best to help him to his feet. Irritably he shook her off, getting to his feet under his own power. After one glance up at his face she didn’t look again; she did not dare. Instead she took hold of Erik’s rope, gripping it securely in case he tried to escape, but the billy wasn’t concerned. He looked completely unrepentant and didn’t seem to realize that his future was looking very bleak indeed.

“Erik,” Jack said in a wavering voice, “you—you very bad boy.”

The goat rolled his eyes at his young master, as if inviting him to enjoy the joke.

“You know you’re not to butt strangers. Apologize. Now.”

Eugenie had seen Jack’s magic before but it still amazed her when the billy goat went down on his front knees and bowed his head. The Duke of Somerton, who had never seen it, was clearly speechless. His mouth twisted as if he wasn’t sure whether to roar with rage or shout with laughter.

“You have to forgive him, sir,” Jack explained anxiously. “Otherwise he’ll just stay there all day.”

Eugenie didn’t expect the duke to be impressed by this. In fact she had taken a step forward, to place herself between the duke and the now repentant goat. But Somerton surprised her.

“I forgive you,” he said gruffly, eyeing the goat uneasily.

On cue Erik jumped to his feet, tossing his head, eyes rolling wickedly. Immediately Jack heaped him with praise. Somerton raised his eyebrows, catching Eugenie’s gaze.

“Do you often take your goat out for a stroll?” he said, a mocking note in his voice. “I would suggest leaving it at home next time.”

“There won’t be a next time,” Jack replied, before Eugenie could answer. His lip quivered. “Mama is sending Erik back to Mr. Bartholomew’s farm, where he came from, and Mr. Bartholomew will sell him to someone else and we will never see him again.”

“Or he’ll cook him in a pot,” one of the twins added, and a tear ran down his cheek. The other twin leaned against him for comfort.

Somerton took in their woebegone faces. “I see,” he said, and Eugenie felt that he really did. “Sir Billy has been given his marching orders, has he? What did he do to fall out of favor with your mother?”

“Ate her Parisian cap with the cerise ribbons!” the twins shouted together.

“Her favorite,” Jack said. “The one that reminded her of when she was young and pretty, before she was—was plagued with children.”

Somerton considered this. Eugenie, expecting some remark along the lines of “serves him right” or “you’ll find another goat” was again pleasantly surprised.

“Do you think he would like to come and live with me?”

Suddenly Jack was grinning all over his face and the twins were cheering. Eugenie, feeling a little dizzy herself, said, “You are very kind, Your Grace, but—”

“I have need of a good goat,” he interrupted, before she could finish.

If he wanted to make fast friends of her brothers then he had done so. They were gazing at him as if he were the hero in a storybook.

“You—you are very kind,” Eugenie managed, as Somerton took hold of his horse’s reins. “I don’t know what to say.”

“Then say nothing,” he retorted awkwardly, as if her emotion was unwelcome. The dark eyes swept over her again, and it seemed to Eugenie that he saw every flaw and fault, before he fixed on her own green eyes. He cleared his throat and added gruffly, “It is a small thing. Of no consequence.”

“Can—can we visit him?” Jack asked anxiously. “I know he will be fed and everything, but he will miss us. And we will miss him.”

“Naturally you must visit him.” The duke mounted his horse, settling himself with a grimace. Eugenie wondered if Erik had caused any permanent damage but knew she could hardly ask. “I’ll send someone to talk to your father.” His gaze turned quizzical. “You do have a father?”

“Of course,” Eugenie said rather sharply.

His gaze lingered but whatever it was he was thinking he kept it to himself, merely nodding, before he turned his mount back the way he’d come. A moment later he was cantering away and soon he’d vanished around the bend in the lane.

“You are going to a new home, Erik. A duke’s home,” Jack was telling his naughty pet, stroking the rough head. “And I will visit you as often as I can. Don’t worry, I won’t forget you.”

Eugenie smiled. No, she thought, it would be a long time before any of them forgot their meeting with His Grace, the Duke of Somerton. Who would have thought he could be so generous? And who would have thought the brush of those dark eyes could make her skin burn and her heart bump? Arrogant, yes. Aware of his own worth, that, too. He was a million miles out of her league.

But there was nothing wrong in dreaming.

* * *

The boys had a hard time convincing their mother that they really had met a duke. At first she declared it a make-believe story, designed to save the wretched Erik, but when Eugenie assured her it really was the truth, she cried that the whole world was conspiring against her, and retired to her room. Their father was more pragmatic and was already, Eugenie was sure, considering ways in which he could turn the situation to his financial advantage.

The next morning someone arrived at Belmont Hall as promised.

Eugenie was up early, as always, helping with the household chores and getting the younger boys ready for school. Of course, as soon as they knew the duke’s man was there, they escaped her grasp and ran down the stairs and outside. With a sigh, tucking her unruly curls behind her ears, Eugenie followed. She had reached the back door and stepped out into the chaos that was their yard before she realized that the “someone” come to fetch Erik was the duke himself.

For a moment she was so surprised she could do nothing more than stare. He was speaking to her father, tapping his hat against his thigh, looking perfect in tight breeches and a coat from Bond Street—or somewhere just as posh. Only his hair was a little untidy, tangled from the ride, and his lean cheeks flushed from the exercise.

As if aware of her openmouthed stare, he looked up and met her gaze.

“Ah, Miss Belmont,” he said brusquely, with a bow. “I have come for Sir Billy, as I promised.”

The twins were dancing around him, and Jack was leading Erik from his enclosure, looking proud and miserable at the same time. “You must be on your best behavior,” she heard him say, as Erik rolled his eyes.

“It is very good of you, Your Grace,” she managed, with a curtsey, remembering she was wearing one of her oldest and shabbiest dresses and had yet to brush her curls or wash her face. Good heavens, what a fright she must look!

“Our Eugenie is to be a genuine lady,” her father announced, tugging at his waistcoat where it bulged over his stomach. “She’s currently attending Miss Debenham’s Finishing School. We expect great things of her.”

“I’m sure she will not disappoint you,” the duke said, perfectly straight-faced.

“My grandmother was His Majesty King George the Second’s mistress,” he went on proudly, making Eugenie want to curl up in a ball and disappear into the earth. “Eugenie takes after her, you know.”

The duke’s eyebrows rose, as well they might.

“She was a house maid,” Eugenie muttered.

“A palace maid,” her father corrected her.

“How very interesting,” Somerton said, tipping his head to one side and examining Eugenie carefully. “And you say your daughter resembles this woman?”

“The spitting image, Your Grace.”

“Then I can understand why the king was smitten.”

It was a gallant compliment. His coal dark eyes delved into hers and she felt the shock of his gaze right down to her toes. He looked startled himself, and the flush in his cheeks deepened. She thought she saw a spark of interest. A warm flicker of intention. Something equally warm blossomed inside her, spreading throughout her body.

“Erik is ready now,” Jack was saying, handing over his pet’s lead to Somerton. The duke quickly passed it on to his man, who Eugenie noticed standing behind him, and who petted Erik with the air of one used to animals. They prepared to leave.

“You may visit him whenever you wish,” Somerton said to Jack and the twins. “He may be a little homesick at first, although I am sure he will soon settle in.”

“And I will be sure to call on you about that little matter we discussed,” the baronet said quickly, tapping the side of his nose.

Eugenie wondered what her father was up to and hoped he wasn’t going to embarrass her yet again with one of his schemes.

Somerton made her a bow, a lock of hair tumbling down over his eyes, a serious cast to his lips. “Miss Belmont, I do hope we meet again, after you have been finished at Miss Debenham’s.”

He was teasing her, as the king had no doubt teased her ancestress. She curtseyed again with wobbly knees. “Yes, Your Grace.”

And he was gone, leaving the yard bleak and empty, and the day ahead looking endlessly long.

* * *

Sinclair left Erik to his groom, and rode ahead. There were estate matters requiring his attention but for some reason he found himself in no hurry to get home. His lips twisted as he thought about Eugenie Belmont and the revelation that she was the descendant of the second Hanoverian George and a servant.

He couldn’t imagine his own family being proud of such a fact. His mother would probably put a sentence of death upon anyone who revealed such a scandal, and yet here were the Belmonts, shouting it out loud to the world.

Eugenie Belmont was no beauty and yet there was something very appealing about her, a mysterious quality that drew the eye. He laughed out loud as he recalled her frozen in the doorway in her faded pink dress, her abundant curls tumbling down her back, her green eyes as big as saucers. He could easily imagine how her ancestress might have captured the attention of the ageing king.

Briefly his thoughts strayed into lustful fantasy. He’d never been one for flirtatious behavior when it came to women, particularly those beneath his own station, and the idea that he may have flirted with Eugenie just now surprised him. He was not a rake, not by any stretch of the imagination. He was never easy in the company of women. Even during his youth, when suddenly he’d found himself with a surfeit of female bodies in his bed, he’d been uncomfortably shy once the lovemaking was over. Conversing with women did not come easily to him, and often made him seem stiff.

The last thing he needed was a liaison with Eugenie Belmont and her appalling family. His future, he thought with blind arrogance, lay in other areas.