A Duke Most Desirable [AUDIOBOOK]

Chapter 1 <b>
The Season promised to be a lovely one. Outside the window, Lydia could see flowers blooming and neatly-trimmed trees swaying in the wind. The world invited her out, as if it had decided to throw a ball to rival the ones in Town.<b>
Despite the lovely morning, Lydia felt neither excitement nor hope. In fact, she was ruminating on a melancholy reminder of days past. She would have continued to sit in silence if her mother had not interrupted.<b>
“Honestly, Diana. This dreadful atmosphere will give me indigestion.” Lady St. Clair frowned and slid her teacup onto its saucer. “I do not understand your determination to stagnate.”<b>
Diana sighed and took up her teacup. “I apologize, Mother. I do not mean to upset you.”<b>
“You might have fooled me.” Lady St. Clair raised an eyebrow, her eyes sharp as she pinned her daughter with a stony gaze. “There is no reason for your demeanor to be so horrible. Especially not when you have taken it upon yourself.”<b>
“I did not mean to become a spinster,” Diana replied. She despised the word almost as much as the conversation she was currently having. It was so rude.<b>
No one had called her as much to her face, but Diana knew her reputation among social circles. Most questioned her lack of interest in being pursued. Other, more unkind women speculated that she was a mistress.
None of it was true, of course. Diana kept the truth to herself, like the petals of a flower she kept pressed in her diary. The flower had long since dried nearly to dust, but she still turned the pages to look at it.<b>
Lady St. Clair scoffed quietly. “Well, you certainly did not make much of an attempt to rectify your situation.”
“Mother, please. I was—”<b>
“You were waiting.”<b>
“I was,” Diana insisted, a small seed of resentment blooming in her chest. “I was in love.”<b>
She still was, or so she believed. She felt the same weight in her heart, though it had since become an ache dulled with time.<b>
“Love,” Lady St. Clair muttered. She shook her head and pushed her teacup away. It was a wonder the contents did not spill. “I do not know where you developed this fascination with the concept.”<b>
“You and Father love one another.” Diana stared down at the table. She had heard this argument in her mind a hundred times over. It never concluded positively.
Lady St. Clair was unwavering. “Certainly. But you are sorely mistaken if you believe we were wildly in love when we were married.”<b>
“Weren’t you?” Diana challenged. “Mother, please. You knew one another for years. You even kept a book of letters he sent you.”<b>
“I thought I had taught you better,” Lady St. Clair said gravely. “But I see I am mistaken.”<b>
Diana’s hands curled in her skirts. She had hoped to sway her mother to her side, but the years had worn her thin. Diana’s mother had entertained the concept of waiting for a year, but by the second, she had doubted.
Diana could not blame her mother. Even she had worried after the first year. After there were no letters and no word of a return date.<b>
“I am only speaking the truth,” Diana said quietly.
“Perhaps. Yet you fail to remember that my marriage was one of chance. It was luck that wed me to your father,” Lady St. Clair said evenly. “Do not imagine that we eloped as the lower classes might, or that we stood against centuries of conduct to be together.”<b>
Diana fell silent as she stared into the teacup before her. The contents were as murky as her heart felt. She could not untangle her thoughts about the love she had lost or the pain she still felt.<b>
After so many years, she should have forgotten. Five years apart was more time than she had known the man of her dreams, and she was acutely aware of the fact.
“It is too late to argue about this,” Diana finally said. “I pledged that I would wait, and I have.”<b>
“It was a foolish thing to do,” Lady St. Clair said quietly. “You knew nothing, as you still do. There is time yet to find you a suitable husband.”<b>
“Is there?” Diana shook her head and turned her teacup. The contents were likely cold already. “I do not think there are any men of my station willing to marry a woman of my age.”<b>
“You appear young yet.” Lady St. Clair pursed her lips before standing, finished with the charade of breakfast. “This is a discussion for another time. See to it that you do not pledge yourself to any other men while I attempt to save what is left of your reputation.”<b>
Diana was silent as she watched her mother leave. Her tea was as cold as she thought it would be, and she abandoned it to stand by the window.<b>
If she looked closely, Diana could imagine she was young again. Just debuted, a flower in spring, her eyes drawn to a handsome young man with a pleasant smile. On the anniversary of his departure, nothing stung more than the memory.<b>
“Did you ever wish to return to me?” she asked the silent room. “Or was it all a lie?”<b>
Diana received no more answer than she had received to the countless prayers she’d uttered over the years. She drew away from the window, silent, and promised herself to forget. If she even could.<b>
* * *
Lord Arthur Hyatt<b>
For the first time in years, Arthur found himself on dry land. Even as he stood in place, he imagined he could feel the ground shifting like the boards of a ship. He wondered if the world would ever stop rocking for him.
Home again. Arthur could recognize the façade of his family estate, but the journey from the docks had been peppered with new shops and scenery he did not recognize. It felt good to be somewhere that had not changed.<b>
Arthur entered the hall of his family’s home to silence. There was no great fanfare, but he could hear someone in the drawing room. They approached the door until suddenly he found himself facing his mother.<b>
“Arthur,” she gasped, her eyes shining with joy and relief. “Oh, my son.”<b>
Arthur carefully accepted his mother’s hug. Her eyes were teary. “You are just as I remember you,” he said kindly. “Certainly, you are as gentle, Mother. Do not weep. I am home.”<b>
“Yes. But I have not seen you in years,” she replied, a sigh escaping her. “Forgive your mother for her sentimentality. I have feared for you since you set foot on the dock.”<b>
“There was no cause to fret,” Arthur said patiently. “I am perfectly capable of looking after myself.”<b>
“I have no doubt.” Lady Hyatt shook her head. “But that is quite enough. I am sure you would like to sit.”<b>
Arthur followed his mother into the drawing room. He felt as if at any moment, the walls around him would change and he would be left standing in a house he did not recognize.<b>
There was only one conspicuous absence that stirred Arthur’s suspicion. He kept his questions to himself until he was seated with his mother in the drawing room, the curtains drawn to let the light in.<b>
“Where is Father?” Arthur paused, considering his words. “I did not expect he would meet me at the docks, but I assumed he would be here.”<b>
Lady Hyatt sighed. “He was called away on business early this morning. He meant to be home to greet you.”
“I understand,” Arthur replied. Even as he spoke the words, he felt a twinge of despair. Five years away from home had shown him how precious his family was.
“He really did want to be here,” Lady Hyatt said quietly. “I only hope he returns soon.”<b>
Arthur did not have to formulate a proper reply. The distant sound of the door opening and words being exchanged caught Arthur’s attention. He recognized the sound of his father’s shoes approaching, and Arthur nearly felt like a child again.<b>
The footsteps stopped in the doorway. Arthur stood to greet his father, a sense of peace flooding him as he saw the man. It was as if the world was perfectly righted.<b>
“There he is.” Lord Hyatt abruptly entered. He extended a hand to his son once he was close enough, his grip firm on Arthur’s arm. “My son.”<b>
“Father.” Arthur smiled. “I have returned. I hope that in my absence, I have honored the family name.”<b>
“I believe that you have done your utmost to do so,” Lord Hyatt replied. He was a quiet man with a worn and gray countenance, but there was wisdom and strength in his gaze.<b>
A sense of disquiet washed over Arthur. He could see more lines on his father’s face than he remembered, and he was keenly aware of how much time had passed and how much his parents had aged.<b>
All around Arthur were reminders of the passage of time. The world had continued without him, and he had come back to find it changed.<b>
“There are matters we must speak of,” Lord Hyatt said. “Matters of business and marriage.”<b>
Arthur froze, his hand suspended halfway through the air. “Marriage?”<b>
“Of course.” Lord Hyatt sighed and moved to the nearby window, examining the scenery. “It is only natural. Your departure was unfortunately abrupt, but there is still time.”<b>
“I appreciate that.” Arthur fished for words; he was at a loss, his father’s sudden declaration ringing in his ears. “Is that of the utmost importance at this time?”<b>
“Of course,” Lord Hyatt said calmly. “You are a bachelor entering the later years of your marriageable life. It would be wise for you to do this now.”<b>
“We would have seen you married before you left,” Lady Hyatt admitted. “But there was not enough time.”<b>
It was the first that Arthur had heard of any intentions toward marriage. He could not think of anything fitting to say to his parents.<b>
Of course, Arthur’s thoughts turned to the woman he had left behind. The sweetheart whose rosy countenance he had thought of when he was away. He would close his eyes and remember her lovely, dark hair and soft blue eyes. The way she had blushed when she turned her gaze from his face.<b>
“I am not averse to it,” Arthur finally admitted. “Though perhaps we may speak of this once I have rested.”<b>
“Of course,” Lady Hyatt gasped, suddenly approaching her husband to place a cautioning hand on his arm. “It must have been such a journey for you. Your room has been made up, of course.”<b>
“Thank you.” Arthur nearly sighed in relief. He had only been home for a few hours, but he felt more exhausted than he had felt in some months when he was away.
Lord Hyatt nodded shortly. “We will speak later, then. There is much to arrange.”<b>
“Of course.” Arthur hesitated, unsure of whether he should say more. He wanted to explain his hesitancy to marry, but it would require admitting the love he still remembered from before he had left.<b>
Arthur did not think either of his parents expected that he would have held to the same woman he had left behind. They likely thought it had been a childish romance, or one lacking true substance and devotion.<b>
Lady Hyatt smiled reassuringly. “You should rest now. There will be plenty of time to speak later, and I would like you to escort me out in two days’ time.”<b>
“Yes. I would like that very much,” Arthur replied. He would have time to speak with his mother then, and perhaps she would have the information he sought about his former sweetheart.<b>
“Good.” Lady Hyatt took Arthur’s hands in hers. “Rest. In the morning, we will have breakfast and speak about the future.”<b>
The future was uncertain, but Arthur did not say as much. He simply smiled and bid his parents farewell before he left the drawing room, the exhaustion of his journey weighing suddenly on his shoulders.<b>

Arthur wondered if his books were still in order, and if there was still a flower pressed into the pages of his favorite book. He hoped it was true, but he was too tired to check when he reached his room. He resolved to look in the morning, and then he lay down and closed his eyes, surrendering to the sweet silence of sleep.<b>