The Duke of Ice Read online

  He turned his head to find the heron and was disappointed to see it had gone. Lucky bird, he mused.

  He tried to ignore the women clambering into the boats, but it was rather distracting given the noise they were making. He watched as Violet got into a skiff with one of the young unmarried women he was trying to avoid. Hell, wasn’t he trying to avoid everyone?

  Scowling to himself, he averted his gaze from the boats. The lake wasn’t terribly large, so it was only a matter of minutes before one of them rowed into his line of sight. He hoped they knew enough to stay well away from the fishing lines.

  To hell with it. He wasn’t going to catch anything else today. He stood and reeled in his line. Then he heard the loud clack of two boats colliding. He looked up from his pole just as one boat capsized. His eye caught a tall, dark green hat just before the boat went over.

  Tossing his pole aside, he didn’t think. He dove into the lake and swam like hell.

  * * *

  The skiff completely flipped over, not only plunging Violet into the lake but into darkness as the boat landed on top of her. It didn’t strike her, instead creating a void above the water. She heard a shriek—from a distance—and surmised that she was alone beneath the boat.

  The water was cold and thick, sucking at her skirts. She worried she would be pulled under from the weight of her wet clothing. She knew how to swim, due to Uncle Bertrand’s lessons, much to her aunt’s horror.

  Violet pushed at the boat but wasn’t able to flip it back. She’d have to duck under it. Sucking in a deep breath, she braced herself to submerge. Before she could go completely under, she realized her hat would pose a problem. Bobbing back up, she pulled the accessory from her head and tossed it aside. Taking another breath, she tried again, this time dropping beneath the surface.

  As soon as she was underwater, she felt a moment’s panic. The weight around her legs seemed heavier. She pumped her arms, trying to propel herself clear of the boat.

  Suddenly, someone clasped her bicep and pulled her to the surface. She inhaled sharply and opened her eyes, blinking rapidly against the moisture clinging to her lashes.

  Her vision filled with a familiar visage: Nick.

  His gray eyes had taken on the color of storm clouds, and his lips were pressed into a nearly nonexistent line. “Are you all right?”

  “I think so.” She tried to regain her equilibrium, and her gaze caught a dark head bobbing beneath the water several feet away. “Miss Kingman. You must help her.” She looked pleadingly at Nick.

  “I’m not letting you go.” He used his free arm to pull the boat—which had somehow been flipped back over, perhaps by him. “Can you hold on to this?”

  Violet nodded. “Yes.” She reached for the edge and clasped it with both hands.

  “Don’t pull on it,” he warned brusquely. “It will flip again. Just hold on enough to keep your head up. Can you do that?”

  She nodded again as her teeth began to chatter with cold.

  He left her then and struck out, swimming beautifully, his arms slicing through the water, toward Miss Kingman. He pulled her above the surface and began to drag her toward the dock. She worked to keep her head up as he swam.

  When they were almost to the dock and Violet felt as if her entire body was encased in ice, a boat came toward her. “Nearly there, Lady Pendleton!”

  The Duke of Romsey rowed toward her. He came alongside the boat she clung to, trapping her between the boats. He came off the seat and sat down in the middle of the boat. “We must be careful not to capsize. I’m going to lift you. But I need you to turn and let go of the boat.”

  Violet knew she would drop like a stone as soon as she let go. “I’ll sink.”

  “You won’t.” He grabbed the back of the neck of her gown, startling her. “I’ve got you. Ready?” At her nod, he said, “Let go!”

  She did as he instructed and relinquished her grip. She tried to turn, but she could barely move her legs in the weight of her skirts. And she was so cold.

  Nevertheless, she left the water as he pulled her up over the side of the boat. He dragged her inside, and she collapsed on top of him, her back to his front.

  “Don’t move,” he said, breathing heavily. After a moment, he wriggled from beneath her. “We need to even our weight across the skiff. Can you move to that end?” He gestured to the front, where she was facing.

  “Yes.” Feeling as though she was draped in armor, she slowly worked her way forward to the front of the boat.

  “That’s it. Wonderful.” With his encouragement, she made it all the way, then turned her head. He was at the back and had already picked up the oars. “And away we go,” he said cheerfully, as if she hadn’t just fallen from a boat and wasn’t shivering so badly, she feared her teeth might fall out.

  The duke rowed them to the dock, where a footman grasped the side of the boat and another one helped Violet step out. She was quickly bundled into a blanket, and Hannah rushed toward her. Her friend’s face was stricken. “Are you all right?”

  “I-I-I’ll be f-f-fine,” Violet managed. As she stepped from the dock onto the path, she saw Miss Kingman wrapped in a blanket between her parents, who were ushering her toward the house.

  “What a disaster,” Hannah cried softly. “I do hope you and Miss Kingman don’t catch cold.” She glanced up at the bright sky. “I’m grateful yesterday’s storm has given way to fairer weather today. Even so, we need to get you to the house.”

  Violet wondered what had become of Nick. She turned her head and saw him standing about twenty feet away, his gaze locked on her. His features were impassive, but in the lake, she’d seen the concern in his eyes. Was there any chance he might still feel something for her? Something other than animosity? He’d been so cold last night, but today, he’d come to her rescue. Hope fluttered in her chest, and she smiled.

  He turned abruptly and started toward the house, his long legs devouring the uneven earth as he skirted the path. Another chill swept over Violet, and she shuddered.

  “Come, let’s get you to the house,” Hannah said.

  “You sh-should stay with your g-guests,” Violet said with a weak smile. “I’ll find my way.”

  “I should be happy to accompany you,” the Duke of Romsey offered. “I’d give you my arm, but I daresay you should keep yourself as covered with that blanket as possible.”

  “Yes, probably.” Violet took in her friend’s expression of distress. She truly looked as though she might cry. “Everything will be fine, Hannah. This will be an amusing story, you’ll see.”

  Hannah nodded but didn’t appear entirely convinced.

  Violet started up the path alongside the duke. “Thank you for r-r-rescuing me.”

  “It was my pleasure. Indeed, perhaps this will improve my reputation at last.”

  She looked at him askance and saw that he was grinning. Plus, she’d heard the self-deprecation in his voice that said he was no stranger to being maligned. “I hope so. I’m afraid I can’t believe the rumors about you. You seem far too kind.”

  “Rumors, I’ve found, are usually based on at least a kernel of truth.”

  It was an enigmatic statement, but she wasn’t sure she had the courage to ask what he meant. Was he trying to say he had somehow been involved in his wife’s death? Violet was saved from a response of any kind when he continued.

  “Take Nick—Kilve, I mean. He’s the Duke of Ice, and it’s not a wrong description. He is as cold and unemotional as they come.”

  Now. Violet barely recognized this Nick.

  “He wasn’t always like this—I’ve known him since we were at Oxford together. Longer than you, I think.”

  She snapped her head to look at him. “He told you about me?”

  “A bit.”

  Those two strained words hinted at things she didn’t want to revisit—not just now. “No, he wasn’t always like this. Nor was he a duke. How did that happen?”

  “A series of misfortunes befell his family. He
inherited from his uncle.”

  “I take it his brother died?” Though their affair had lasted only a fortnight, Violet had learned many things about him. Still, there was so much she didn’t know. And likely never would.

  “At Badajoz, fighting alongside Nick, actually.”

  She looked over at the duke. “Nick served in the army?” She hadn’t known what happened to him after she’d left. Her parents had removed her from Bath as quickly as possible and nearly as quickly had married her off to Pendleton. She hadn’t looked back, despite wondering what had happened to Nick. She’d decided it was too painful to hold on to something—someone—she couldn’t have.

  “His uncle bought him a commission.”

  She imagined him going off to war. Would he have done that if she hadn’t left? She recalled that his older brother had been a soldier. “Did he go because of his brother?”

  “I think so. And he…needed a change. Or so he said. I admit we weren’t terribly close at that time. I was too busy drinking my way through London.”

  “I see,” she murmured, not knowing quite what to say to that. “But you’re close now?”

  “As close as he allows. He was different after Badajoz and…other things that aren’t my place to discuss.”

  Curiosity fairly burned inside her, but she wouldn’t ask him to disclose Nick’s secrets. “I cared for him a great deal. It pains me to see him so removed. So cold.”

  “It does me as well, I must admit.” The duke’s gait slowed as they neared the house. “Is there a chance you still care for him?”

  Though she was still quite cold, Violet paused and turned toward him. “I will always care for him.”

  It was more than that, but she wouldn’t say so. She loved him still, and seeing him again had only reminded her of that fact. She’d thought she could keep him in the back of her mind, a distant memory that, if handled with care, could bring her joy.

  “That’s good to hear. Nick needs people who care for him. He works damn hard to make sure they don’t.”

  “Why would he do that?”

  “I’m not sure I know the answer to that. It’s complicated. He’s complicated. He’s been through a great many trying circumstances, and I think he’s perhaps forgotten how to live. If there’s any chance at all you could remind him, I would encourage you to do so.”

  “What exactly are you saying, Duke?”

  “I think you should call me Simon. I saved you, after all.” He grinned at her, and she decided she liked him no matter what. “I’m saying that Nick needs something. Or someone. I was able to get him to this party—which was no small feat—but I fear that he’ll return home and go right back to his solitude.”

  “I don’t know if I can prevent that.” Aside from rushing to her aid in the lake, Nick had given her no inkling that he was interested in having a conversation with her, let alone any kind of relationship.

  “I don’t know if you can either. But if you wanted to try, I’d be grateful.”

  The breeze stirred, and she shivered again.

  Simon rolled his eyes. “I am the worst rescuer, keeping you out here in the cool autumn air. Come, let’s get you inside.” He ushered her into the house, where a maid informed her that a hot bath was being prepared in her chamber.

  As Violet climbed the stairs, she looked forward to being warm. More than that, she looked forward to seeing if she could thaw Nick and bring him warmth too.

  Chapter 5

  Nick frowned at his reflection in the mirror. Not because his appearance was lacking, but because he really was cursed. He’d barely spent one day with people and catastrophe had already struck. He only hoped Miss Kingman and Violet were all right.

  They’d both been pale and sodden, their eyes wide with fright. Actually, the latter had just been Miss Kingman. Violet’s gaze had reflected more surprise than anything else. Surprise at finding herself plunged in the lake or because he’d come to her rescue?

  He was surprised.

  He told himself he’d gone to her first because she’d been a bit closer than Miss Kingman. However, he knew that Violet could swim. That was one of the many things he knew about her. Along with her love of ices, her penchant for reading poetry, and the way her toes curled when she was kissed.

  Swearing under his breath, he turned from the glass.

  “Something amiss, Your Grace?” his valet, Rand, asked.

  Nick glanced over at the young man and shook his head. “No.”

  “Is there anything else you require?”

  “My coach so we may depart?”

  Rand blinked at him. “Would you like me to pack?”

  Nick exhaled. “No,” he lied. He did want to leave. He’d promised Simon one night, and he’d fulfilled that bargain. And yet here he was dressed for dinner.

  Because he wanted to ensure that both women were well after their unplanned swim. If either of them took ill…

  It didn’t bear thinking about.

  A knock on the door drew him from taking that dark path. Rand answered the summons but didn’t need to announce the arrival as Nick heard Simon’s voice. “Evening, Rand. I’m here to fetch the Duke.”

  Rand stepped aside and held the door wide for Simon to enter. He stopped short and surveyed Nick from head to toe. “Christ, you look as if you’ve eaten bad soup. Have you? I didn’t see you for luncheon.”

  “I didn’t eat soup.” He’d barely eaten anything, save a few cakes from the tea tray that had been sent up that afternoon.

  Simon flicked a glance at Rand. “What’s wrong with him?”

  Rand appeared mildly alarmed, his jaw tightening and his eyes widening slightly. “Nothing.” He looked at Nick in question—and apology.

  Nick glowered at Simon. “Don’t scare my valet.”

  “I doubt that’s possible. He’s in service to you,” Simon quipped. “Are you ready for dinner or are you indeed ill?”

  No, and he hoped Miss Kingman and Violet weren’t either. The only way to verify that was to go to dinner. “I’m ready, and I’m not ill.” He turned and checked his reflection in the glass. He looked fine. Or at least not peaked. “Do you know if Lady Pendleton or Miss Kingman have recovered from this morning?” He avoided looking at Simon as he asked the question.

  After a moment, Simon answered slowly. “No. But I begin to see why you look as you do.”

  Nick brushed at a nonexistent speck on his coat and pivoted from the mirror. “I don’t ‘look’ like anything.”

  “You’re concerned about them—I can hear it in your tone. I’ve no idea how they fared. Neither came to luncheon.”

  Nick wasn’t able to suppress a flinch.

  “You are concerned.”

  “You don’t find it odd that as soon as I venture back out into Society, two women are endangered?” As soon as he uttered the question, he wanted to take it back.

  Simon stared at him a moment, then did the unthinkable. He laughed.

  Nick scowled.

  “That’s a question I should ask. I’m the one who’s a menace.” Simon’s laughter faded. “Or something.”

  “And I am cursed. Need I point out to you that everyone I’ve cared about has died?”

  Simon laid his hand over his chest. “I’m wounded. Here I thought you cared about me.”

  “I should clarify—everyone in my family. You are not a member of my family.”

  A loud sniff punctuated the air as Simon wrinkled his nose. “I see.” He shook out his shoulders and looked Nick squarely in the eye. “That’s all nonsense.”

  It wasn’t, but Nick wouldn’t debate him. “I’m planning on leaving in the morning.”

  “You can’t.” Simon narrowed his eyes. “You made me a promise.”

  “Which I’ve more than kept. Tonight will be two nights, and I only pledged one.”

  “You can’t go, not when I’m on the verge of a true breakthrough. After my rescue of Lady Pendleton this morning, I am enjoying a bit of positive notoriety for once.”
r />   Hell. How could he abandon his friend now? “I am, of course, thrilled for you. However, you don’t need me to remain.”

  “Perhaps not, but I’d like you to. One more day.” Simon cocked his head to the side. “So long as you’re already here. Lord knows when you’ll venture to such a thing again.”

  He had a point. “One more day. Can we please go downstairs now so I can stop listening to you whine?”

  Simon grinned as he clapped him on the shoulder. “Anything you say.”

  They left Nick’s chamber and went down to the drawing room where everyone was told to gather before dinner.

  As soon as they appeared in the doorway, Linford clapped his hands. “It’s our resident heroes!”

  Everyone joined in with applause, their heads swiveling to the doorway. Nick wanted to melt into the floor. He looked askance at Simon and saw a faint blush at the top of his friend’s neck. Yes, he was enjoying this, and well he should.

  Simon flicked his wrist with a flourish and bowed deeply. Nick belatedly copied him, albeit with just a stiff bow.

  As he straightened, he scanned the room. Miss Kingman was perched between her two young friends on a settee. Some of the tension left his frame. However, it returned as soon as he realized Violet wasn’t present. Was she ill?

  A few of the ladies intercepted them, smiling and preening. They didn’t ignore Simon, but their attention was first directed at Nick.

  Lady Balcombe looked up at Nick, her lashes fluttering. “However did you learn to swim like that, Duke?”

  “In the ocean,” Nick answered, looking about the room once more as if he could will Violet to appear.

  “My goodness,” Lady Adair said. “That must have been terribly difficult. How strong you must’ve been, even as a child. Assuming you learned as a child. I never did. Learn, that is.”

  Nick focused on her for a brief, irritating moment. “I live on the coast. Learning to swim in the ocean is rather necessary. If you’ll excuse me.” He stalked to the opposite corner, where he could take up a vantage point from which he could see the doorway. That way, he wouldn’t miss Violet’s entry.