The Determined Duchess by Erica Monroe

Author:Erica Monroe [Monroe, Erica]
Language: eng
Format: epub, mobi
Publisher: Quillfire Publishing
Published: 2018-03-26T18:00:00+00:00

Chapter Nine

Nicholas passed another sleepless night in the room he couldn’t think of as anything other than his Uncle Randall’s chambers; even though his uncle was long deceased, and his father had actually been the last one to sleep in these rooms. The old duke had never seemed to mind staying in his dead brother-in-law’s quarters—he’d simply charged in, demanded the servants deliver his baggage to the master suite, and went to tea with his sister Margaret like nothing had changed.

But that had been Father. Nicholas couldn’t think of a single circumstance where his father hadn’t acted with self-righteous aggrandizement—as the Duke of Wycliffe, he assumed that the world would move out of his way, and it usually did.

No matter what he did, Nicholas could not summon that same confidence. The only time he’d felt as though he was truly doing what he was meant to do—truly making a difference—had been with his Night Watch Bill.

During his summers at Tetbery, he’d watched as Felicity changed one variable in an experiment to see if it produced a different conclusion. As in all things, she was fastidious, observing every result and taking comprehensive notes.

Science, Felicity had said, was about progress. The human race could not expect to move forward by continuing on as they always had, with the same exact habits and beliefs. So when he’d created his bill, he’d tried to improve upon the existing policing system, increasing communicating and hopefully lowering the crime rate.

But the House of Lords did not want the new and untried. They wanted the same established strictures giving them power for centuries.

There was comfort to be found in the old and routine, or so he’d always believed. Toe the mark, and never court controversy. Hardings, as his father always said, did not need to work at being important—by the grace of their lineage, they already had everything anyone could want.

Aunt Margaret, though, had been different. When she’d married Randall, it was not his title that mattered. It was Randall himself: his kindness, his inherent sense of responsibility, and his love for his family estate.

That was what had mattered to Randall and Margaret: family. They’d mourned their lack of children fiercely—not because the Tetbery title would go into abeyance without a male heir, but because they longed to share their love with a child. When their friends passed, they’d immediately volunteered to take Felicity in.

Even as a boy, Nicholas had marked how much happier they were once Felicity came to live with them.

Now, as Nicholas sat at the long dining table that had once belonged to them, he couldn’t shake the feeling that his uncle was watching him—and frowning in disapproval because he’d kissed Felicity.

He, who ought to know better than to enter into an emotional entanglement with a woman who didn’t want to be his duchess. Felicity had made it damnably clear that she didn’t want anything to do with the beau monde.

Or him, for that matter.

That was enough experimentation, I think. You may go now.

It was not the first dismissal he’d received from her over the years.

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