Julia and the Duke (Bluestocking Brides Book 2) Read online

  Julia and the Duke

  Bluestocking Brides

  Samantha Holt

  Table of Contents

  Chapter One

  Chapter Two

  Chapter Three

  Chapter Four

  Chapter Five

  Chapter Six

  Chapter Seven

  Chapter Eight

  Chapter Nine

  Chapter Ten

  Chapter Eleven

  Chapter Twelve

  Chapter Thirteen

  Chapter Fourteen

  Epilogue

  Chapter One

  Blowing the curls from her face, Julia pushed up from her position and groaned. Spasms of pain rolled through her muscles.

  “That’s what you get for sitting in one place for too long,” she scolded herself, mimicking the tone of her oldest sister Amelia.

  Amelia would roll her eyes at the state of her. Her mother would probably have a fit. From her position lying flat on her belly, she eased her legs around and sat. Hands caked in dirt, and her skirts muddy and damp from the ground, Julia could imagine what her mother would think of her now.

  She pushed her spectacles up her nose and grimaced when she left a muddy fingerprint on the glass. As she wiped them on a rare clean bit of fabric, she peered up and down the river then at the skies.

  Julia huffed. She’d been here for a good four hours now and no sign of the otters. They were determined to lead her on a merry chase. How was she ever going to finish her research if she rarely got to see them? But it was getting late and if she did not return home soon, no doubt one of her sisters would be sent to find her.

  She stood and gave one last hopeful glance up and down. And paused. There was movement along the riverbank. She held her breath. Could it be? The otters had reproduced in the spring and were cautious about moving their babies. Since then, she had rarely seen them. Her heart skipped a little and she scrutinized the spot where there had been movement. She dared not move in case they spotted her and vanished again but she was not really close enough for her to see much. Perhaps they would come nearer her position, she thought hopefully.

  A large crack behind her made her whirl. A man stumbled out from the trees and his brows lifted as he spotted her.

  “Mi—”

  She held up a hand to silence him and twisted to view the spot of the would-be otters. “Drat.”

  They were gone, likely startled by this blasted oaf of a—

  Julia’s mouth fell open. No, not at oaf. Hardly even a man. Well, yes, a man, but really verging on the god-like end of things. Chiseled jaw, black, shiny hair with a slight wave, parted to one side. Likely styled at some point this morning but had suffered the ravages of having a hand pushed through it multiple times. Hands that were large and powerful-looking. Her gaze ran naturally from his hands down to his legs where breeches and hessians clung to strong legs. She took note of the jacket—well-cut and made of fine wool—then the loose cravat and dark waistcoat.

  When she returned her attention to his face, her heart gave a jolt. His eyes were the sort of blue that should not exist on a person. The dip in his jaw and the slight bump in the bridge of his nose added the sort of character that made one want to study the lines of his face all day.

  “Miss?”

  His voice matched his looks. Deep, beautiful, and the sort of voice that reached down inside and plucked at an invisible string inside of her.

  She stared at him, her mouth drying as it remained open. Good Lord, nature really was a work of art sometimes.

  “May I speak?” he said, taking a step closer.

  She jerked at the sudden movement and gripped the tree next to her lest she fall back into the river. Julia was not at all sure she wanted him any nearer. It was hard enough to register the presence of such a handsome man with the distance between them, let alone having him close.

  “Miss?” He glanced from side to side. “Is all well? Are you hurt? In danger?”

  She shook her head.

  “Your clothing.” He pushed a hand through his hair and peered around them. “Has someone hurt you? Are they nearby?”

  She blinked a few times when he took another two steps nearer. He was a good head taller than her and his height forced her to crane her neck upwards. There was a little stubble on his chin.

  “Miss?”

  “I—”

  This was ridiculous. She could not form neither thought nor word. It was not as though she had never seen a man before. She had seen plenty. Danced with several even. But here was a specimen she had never studied before. One that was handsome beyond description. One that made her want to forget otters altogether. She ran her gaze up and down him a few more times—for research purposes of course.

  “Can I aid you?” He held out a hand and she unthinkingly put hers in his. The strong warmth of it sent a blaze of sensation up her arm.

  Julia snatched her hand back. “No!”

  A dark brow rose. “No?”

  “That is...” She rubbed her arm where the strange sensation still lingered. This was getting to be too much. She liked to study new things as much as the next girl—well perhaps more than the next girl—but she had been here for the otters not for absurdly handsome men she did not know. “I am well. I am here for the...”

  She lost the words when she stared into his eyes. They were filled with concern and a little confusion.

  “For?”

  “O-ott—” She fought for the words.

  “Ott?”

  “Otters!” she finally managed to push out.

  “Otters?” The creases of confusion between his brows remained.

  “Yes. Yes, that’s it. Otters. I’m here for the otters. I am perfectly well. Not harmed at all. Just here for the otters. I study them you see. Otters. I like them. I have been following their mating habits for some time. They had babies recently. I have been trying to spot them. Otters are fascinating creatures. They mate for life, you know? I’ve been here since this morning trying to catch a glimpse.” She took a breath and straightened her shoulders. “Yes. I’m here for the otters.”

  The confused look turned bemused. She narrowed her gaze at him. She was used to that look. Her mother and father always had it when she talked of animals or nature. So did every other man when she told them of her passion for all that is wild. This man saw her just as those people did. A foolish, silly girl with a foolish, silly hobby. She pressed her lips into a firm line and lifted her chin. “Had you not come stomping through the undergrowth, my time would not have been wasted. They were about to come out of their home.”

  “Stomping?” He ran his gaze down her body in a slow, deliberate manner. “I thought you were in trouble. Forgive me for not immediately knowing you were hunting otters.” His lips pulled into a wry smile.

  “I am clearly not in trouble.”

  “I am not so sure about the clearly part. You are covered in mud. Your gown is...a little damp.” His gaze shot to her chest and she slapped her hands over it, aware the wet ground had made it stick to her stays and reveal too much. “You do not look like a woman who is out of trouble.”

  “I suppose it is a surprise to you that some women do not mind a little mud.” Yes, she could safely assume a man like this never spent time with women who did anything other than gossip and dance.

  “Perhaps. But I believe this otters’ business was more of a surprise.”

  “They are wonderful creatures. They mate—”

  “For life. Yes, you said.” The corners of his lips turn upwards. “I can see how that would appeal to a young lady. Females do so love the idea of mating for life.”

  Hi
s handsomeness was cracking away by the second. The more she looked at him, the angrier she became. It was clear he had prejudged her in so many ways, just as she had prejudged him. However, she had been kinder in her assessment than he had.

  Oh, she was used to men teasing her about her love of nature and how much time she dedicated to studying every aspect of it, but it was different when it was a stranger who knew nothing of her.

  Julia straightened. “I have little interest in mating for life.”

  He gave a little chuckle that made her feel hot and sticky with anger. “No, of course. You only have eyes for the otters. I see that now.”

  “Are you trying to be funny?”

  He gave a shrug. “I thought it was funny.”

  “Animals are free of arrogance and spite. Is it any wonder I would choose them over fickle, cruel men?”

  “Clearly you have been mingling with the wrong men.”

  “I have met enough to know that there’s nothing that could entice me into marrying one of them. And if you are trying to suggest you are any better, I would call you a liar.”

  “Those are vicious words indeed, considering we were complete strangers only minutes ago.” He took a step closer, the gap between them shrinking to miniscule. “You speak of the spitefulness of men but I do not think those words were any kinder.”

  She drew in a breath. She was being rude, she knew that, but so was he. He was toying with her—a woman he did not know—and it made her feel hot and spiky, as though she wanted to lash out and do some damage to that arrogant exterior.

  “I do not owe you kindness, whatever you might think. Men are quick to assume women are only put on this earth to flatter them but trust me when I say I have far better things to do than to bow and fawn for you or any other man.”

  “It seems you have me marked as a man of great arrogance and conceit.”

  “I have not seen anything to dissuade me from my conclusion. I study things, sir, and I studied you. I have seen all I need to know to come up with a successful conclusion.”

  His gaze ran over her face, pausing briefly on her lips. He smiled and revealed a flash of white, straight teeth. “Did you study me carefully, Miss...?”

  “Julia. Julia Chadwick. I am the oldest Miss Chadwick.”

  “Miss Chadwick then. Did you study me closely? What was it that led you to this conclusion, pray tell?”

  “I did not need to study you for long to understand. Just look at the way you are speaking with me. As though I am here for your own amusement.”

  He did not respond for a while. His gaze lingered on her eyes, looking deeply into them. A tremble ran through her.

  The man snapped his gaze from hers and took a step back. “You are cold.” He pulled off his jacket and had it flung about her shoulders before she could protest. The sudden warmth of the fabric and the scent of firewood engulfed her. She felt as though she were drowning but in the most pleasant way.

  “I do not—”

  He held up a hand. “I know, Miss Julia Chadwick. You are an independent otter-hunter in no need of rescue. But I have held you up and interrupted your day. You may not think me a gentleman but I would not have you catch a chill on my accord.”

  “No, I really—”

  She tried to pull it off but he put a hand to her shoulder and stopped her.

  “Unhand my sister!”

  Julia whipped her head around to find Catherine had entered the tiny clearing by the river. Her small fists were held aloft, her feet spread apart. Her bonnet hung from its ribbons around her neck and she had likely run here as her cheeks were flushed. Wild red hair just like Julia’s had come apart from a simple braid that knowing her sister had never really been done properly.

  “Catherine,” Julia warned.

  “I mean it.” Catherine took a step closer, fists still held high. “If you hurt my sister, I shall hurt you. I am an excellent fighter.”

  The man swung a glance at Julia, looking as though he could not decide whether to be amused or confused. The image of her younger sister trying to fight such a man was so ridiculous she could hardly picture it herself.

  “Catherine.” Julia stepped between her sister and the man. “He was not hurting me, nor will he. He was simply giving me his coat because I was cold.”

  Catherine narrowed her gaze at the man then lowered her fists. “You’re lucky. I would have knocked you out had you harmed her.”

  The man chuckled and lifted his palms in surrender. “I have no doubt about that.”

  Julia shucked off the coat and handed it back to the man. “I will return home now. You can take this back.”

  He took it with a shrug. “If this is what one gets for being a gentleman, I am not sure I shall bother again.”

  “We need to hurry home,” Catherine insisted. “Mama is getting impatient.”

  “I shall leave you to it then.” The man bowed his head. “Happy otter hunting, Miss Julia Chadwick, the oldest Chadwick girl.”

  They both waited until he’d vanished back into the woods before making their way home. “What a strange man,” Catherine commented. “Incredibly handsome, though.”

  “Too handsome,” Julia agreed. “He knew it well and was an arrogant beast of a man.”

  “It’s a fine job he did not hurt you. I intended to kick him in the loins,” Catherine declared.

  Chapter Two

  Guy could not help laugh to himself as he trudged across the lawns toward Harburgh House. After all, it wasn’t every day one ran into not one, but two wild, redheaded women. and wild was about right. He’d thought Miss Chadwick had suffered something terrible. Set upon by thieves perhaps given her appearance.

  But no. It had all been about otters. He shook his head to himself. Otters. What a rare woman she was. What a furious woman she was. She had gone from hardly being able to say a word to tearing him apart in mere moments. The spark in her eyes as she’d declared him arrogant had been nothing short of fascinating.

  As for the younger sister with her scrawny arms and tiny, bunched fists. He laughed again. She had to be the fiercest creature he’d seen in a long time. Too young to interest him but he certainly would not object to meeting either of them again. He imagined Miss Chadwick did not feel the same.

  He followed the path around the building to the front door. The four towers of the building dominated the landscape. He had paid a modest sum for the house but it still needed work, having been neglected for a while. The previous owner had not been savvy with his money and the building needed modernizing as well as some tending to. All in all, it would sap his resources. Inheriting a title was no cheap matter. The taxes that needed to be paid on the estate were costly. His uncle had done his best to keep the ducal estate profitable and Guy would continue that, once he had paid off the taxes. But needs must. He had to leave London for Stephen’s sake.

  Before he could open the door, the housekeeper stepped out. “Thank goodness, Your Grace. I was beginning to fret.”

  “About me, Mrs. Keats?”

  She gave a smile and a swift shake of her head. “Never. I know you can look after yourself, Your Grace. But Stephen has yet to return and one of the delivery boys said he was seen heading into The King’s Arms. That was a good four hours ago.”

  Guy grimaced. If his brother had been at the inn for four hours, he’d been deep into his cups by now. At only seventeen, he had yet to learn how to handle alcohol. Or life for that matter. He gave another sigh. His fault really. He’d always fought to protect his brother from the realities of life. Their thirteen-year age gap had meant he had played more of a father figure than anything after Stephen’s father had died. There were many times when he wished he’d done a better job of it.

  “I shall go and find him,” he told Mrs. Keats.

  She nodded. “I hope he is not in any trouble.”

  “I hope so too.”

  They shared a look and he knew the housekeeper imagined it was unlikely he was not. Stephen had an uncanny ability to f
ind trouble wherever he went. Guy had hoped by moving into the Hampshire countryside for a while, Stephen would settle and grow into the man Guy knew he could be. If there were only redheaded women around to distract him, perhaps he would not be so eager to spread his wild oats.

  Would he see Miss Chadwick again? Guy made his way to the stables and ordered a horse saddled. She had to live locally if she was returning home on foot. If she and her sister were indicative of the women around here, then he would have no problems ensuring Stephen kept his breeches done up. Stephen preferred buxom brunettes typically.

  Guy could see the appeal of a slender redhead, though. There was something intriguing about those fiery green eyes that sparked behind spectacles and wild curls falling about her forehead. Freckles had danced across her nose and a few lingered on her collar bone.

  Yes, Stephen would never be interested.

  He was, though.

  Once the gelding was saddled, he rode hard toward the village. They’d been here for over a week now and he had done enough exploring to know his way around. It had been his first visit to the spot by the river, however. If he’d have known a muddy, damp, redhead would be there, he might have visited sooner, but he had been too busy making plans and communicating with a friend in London. That spot by the river had looked perfect on the sketches of the land surrounding Harburgh. However, he had not had the chance to ensure it was as good as it looked on paper. He would have to speak with Morgan and invite him to visit first but the chances were, it was as perfect as they’d hoped for their new venture.

  One long path cut down the center of the village. It boasted a chandlery, bookstore, a butcher, and a greengrocer along with all the necessary things for the women of the area. Consisting mostly of white cottages, it was a good-sized village with everything one could wish for from the countryside. All in all, he could be quite content with settling here permanently. But really that depended what happened with Stephen.

  He came to a stop outside of the inn. A few men lingered around the doorway, already deep in their cups despite it being early afternoon. Guy acknowledged them with a brief dip of his head and they moved out of his way. If they did not yet know who he was, he was imposing enough to ensure they caused him no problems. His height and the breadth of his shoulders usually worked that way for him.