Eleven Scandals to Start to Win a Duke's Heart
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She scowled at the insinuation that she did not actually have a good reason not to marry.
“You shall be happy to learn that I have decided against locking you in the attic for the rest of your days to keep you from more adventures,” he said, changing the subject. “But you are not far from such a fate. Do have a care, Juliana.” His dimple flashed. “I find I quite like having a sister.”
His words warmed her. She quite liked having a brother. “I do not mean to make trouble.”
He raised a brow.
“Not all the time. Not this afternoon.” Except she had meant to make trouble. Just not the kind he need know about. “Not the kind that ends at the bottom of a lake,” she qualified.
He moved to a sideboard and poured himself a scotch, then sat by the fireplace, indicating that she should join him.
When she took the chair opposite his, he said, “No, you mean to make the kind of trouble that ends in setting down half of London society.”
She opened her mouth to refute the point, and he continued. “There’s no use in telling me otherwise, Juliana. You think it is only our dark hair and blue eyes that make us siblings? You think I do not know what it is like to have them watch your every move? To have them wait for you to prove that you are every inch what they expect you to be?”
There was a long pause. “It’s different.”
“It’s not.”
“They didn’t think you were going to be like her.”
He did not pretend to misunderstand. “You’re nothing like her.”
How could he know that?
He leaned forward, elbows on his knees, his blue eyes unwavering. “I know it. I know what she was like. She was indifferent. Uncaring. She made a cuckold of her husband. She left her children . . . twice. That is not you.”
She wanted to believe him.
“She was also a scandal.”
He gave a little huff of laughter. “It’s not the same thing at all. You are unexpected and exciting and charming. Yes. You’re willful and irritating as hell when you want to be, but you’re not a scandal.”
She had been in Hyde Park that morning. She had been on the balcony the night before. If Ralston knew that she had wagered two weeks of passion with the duke, he’d have a fit.
Yes, she was a scandal.
Her brother simply didn’t know it.
“I fell in the Serpentine today.”
“Yes, well, that doesn’t usually happen to women in London. But it’s not so much of a scandal as it is a challenge. And if you’d stop nearly getting yourself killed . . .” He trailed off, and silence stretched between them. “She was real scandal. The kind from which families do not recover. You are not like her. Not at all.”
“Leighton thinks I am.”
Ralston’s eyes darkened. “Leighton compared you to our mother?”
She shook her head. “Not in so many words. But he thinks I’m a danger to the reputations around me.”
Ralston waved a dismissive hand. “First, Leighton is an ass, and has been since he was in short pants.” Juliana could not help her giggle, and Ralston smiled at the sound. “Second, he is too conservative. He always has been. And third”—he gave a wry smile—“I have suffered more than my fair share of blows to my reputation, and we are still invited to parties, are we not?”
“Perhaps everyone is just waiting for us to cause a scene.”
He settled back in his chair. “It’s possible.”
“Why is he so cautious?”
The question was out before she could stop it, and she immediately regretted it. She did not want Ralston to sense her interest in the duke.
Not that it was anything more than a passing interest.
Not at all.
Ralston seemed not to notice. “He has always been so. Since we were boys. At school, he couldn’t speak a sentence without mentioning that he was heir to a dukedom. Always stiff and proper and all about the title. I’ve always thought his behavior ridiculous. Why assume the responsibilities of a title if you’re not willing to enjoy the benefits?”
He met her eyes, honestly confounded by the idea of feeling responsible to a title, and Juliana could not help but grin. Her brother had a rake inside him. A tame one, now that he was married, but a rake nonetheless.
Silence fell, and Juliana had to bite her tongue to keep from pressing her brother for more.
“Callie wants to have him to dinner. To thank him. Publicly.”
He thought for a moment. “That seems to be sound logic.”
“Along with a half a dozen other eligible bachelors.”
He offered her a sympathetic look. “You do not actually believe that I can alter her from this course?”
“No, I suppose I do not.” She paused. “She thinks proximity to the duke will help my reputation.”
“She’s probably right. I can’t say I like the man, but he does hold a certain sway over society.” One side of his mouth lifted in a half smile. “A trait I’ve never been able to claim.” Silence fell, and they were both lost to their thoughts. Finally, Ralston said, “I won’t pretend their opinions don’t matter, Juliana. I wish to hell they didn’t; of course they do. But I promise you. You are nothing like her.”
She closed her eyes against his words. “I want to believe you.”
“But you find yourself believing them.”
Her gaze widened. How did he know that?
A wry smile crossed his face. “You forget, sister. I have been in your position. I have wanted to show them all that I was above them, all the while fearing that I was precisely what they thought.”