Defying the Duke: Book 3 Victorian Novella Series

Eighteen

First Draft

London, England

The Duke of Hayward left White's and headed the short distance to his townhouse on St. James. He was looking forward to warming up by the fire with a nightcap in his study. The journey from Bath was long and grueling, and he was ready to relax in his own home. It had been a while since he'd been to any of his properties, thanks to his mother's constant nagging. She was ready for him to fulfill his duty, take a bride, and produce heirs.

It was why he was keen to accept all Lady Margaret's invitations, along with his budding friendship with her son, Gerald. Johannes enjoyed the laid-back countess and her ragtag entourage. He grew up in a strict environment because of his family's standing in polite society, so it was nice to be around Lady Margaret.

His butler, Clarence, opened the door and bowed. "Good evening, Your Grace."

Johannes nodded, handing him his overcoat, hat, and cane. "Good to see you, Clarence. It's been a while and I'm sorry it was short notice. I hope I didn't cause the staff too much trouble."

"Not at all. Mr. Blair unloaded your trunk when the coachman delivered it earlier, and Cook fixed you a special Victoria sponge. We are all thrilled to have you home, Your Grace."

"You are a good man, Clarence." Johannes clapped him on the back. "What say you bring me some of that sponge cake and then retire for the night? I'll be turning in early myself. I'm knackered from my trip."

A look of confusion crossed the butler's face. "Although kind, perhaps you are unaware of your mother's arrival yesterday." Clarence cocked his head.

Johannes groaned and raked a hand through his hair. "Bloody hell!" He could see the corners of Clarence's mouth lift before maintaining his composure. "Did she bring my sister, as well?"

"Yes, and another young lady of her acquaintance." Clarence cleared his throat. "They are attending a musical at Lord and Lady Highmore's. I do not suspect they shall stay out too late though, Your Grace." He tapped the side of his nose and winked.

"Spit it out, man." Johannes laughed. "What, pray, are you trying to tell me?"

"I'll meet you in the study with Cook's treat. You have enough time to enjoy it and brandy before the ladies return." He gave Johannes a pointed look, shaking his head, his left cheek raised in a grin.

Johannes liked the cheeky side that Clarence pretended to hide. While proper, he wasn't your regular stuffy, stone-faced butler. Johannes hired him after inheriting the title. When his father died, Johannes sent the previous butler to a cottage in the country with a nice stipend to live out the rest of his days how he saw fit. Mr. Campbell was a dedicated and loyal employee, but well in his dotage.

"You're a genius, Clarence, and I'm terribly insipid tonight."

"It's called exhaustion and shock, Your Grace." He winked again. "I'll meet you in the study." He bowed and rushed toward the kitchen.

What in the blue blazes is my mother doing here? He told only his friends in Bath he was heading to London and while gossip traveled fast, it didn't travel that fast. His mother and sister were in the country at his primary estate—too far for wagging tongues to reach. With a heavy sigh, the duke made his way to his study. So much for peace.

He looked around the octagon-shaped room and smiled. This was his favorite room, and he'd left his father's study untouched, except for some essentials, and turned this room into his study. While not large, it was spacious, and he liked the tall bay windows adorning each side of the fireplace. Johannes placed an 18th Century King George III desk in the center and it shone as the blaze crackled behind it in the fireplace. The burgundy and gold striped drapes were a pleasant touch with their large tassel tie-backs, allowing an enormous amount of light in during the day.