Chapter One
Cornwall, England
August 1817
“They are knownas the Singing Caves, Miss Alwyn.” Ruarke MacArran, the daunting Duke of Arran, surprised Heather Alwyn by coming up beside her as she stood alone on the windy cliff heights overlooking the rocky Cornwall seashore and its honeycomb of caves near his impressive home, MacArran Grange. “You must never go in them.”
Heather shook her head and turned to him, only now realizing she had company. The hour was growing late, the afternoon shadows beginning to lengthen over the jagged rockface. The sun would still be up for hours. But the waves were heightening in intensity. Even now, she could hear their stridentwhooshto shore and the soft roar as they crashed within the distant caves.
“Forgive me, Your Grace.” The sound of those waves battering the hollowed-out rocks, and the siren song emanating from those hollows, had left her a little spellbound. “I did not hear you approach. I was watching the girl.”
She thought she heard him sharply inhale. “What girl?”
“Oh, she is gone now. She came out of those very caves and ran down the beach.” Heather put a hand over her eyes to shadethem from the sun, but the young woman, hardly more than a girl, was no longer in sight.
“Dear heaven,” she heard him mutter.
“Your Grace?” She was almost afraid to meet his gaze, for there was something about his dark eyes that had the power to devour her soul. It was ridiculous to feel this way about someone—a duke, no less—she had met only two weeks ago. That he even knew her name was a surprise, for he had never spoken to her until just now. But he had been watching her since this morning, and she was a little undone knowing she had his attention.
What did this fierce man want with her?
He was undeniably handsome, tall, and splendidly broad in the shoulders. His hair was as dark as his eyes, and he wore dark clothes to match. There was a brutish magnificence about his face that reminded her of the jagged cliffs upon which she stood.
Still, she did not like his ability to makeherheart flutter.
Nor did she understand why he had suddenly taken notice of her.
Well, perhaps he made it a point to know everyone who came and went from MacArran Grange. Not that he would have reason to pay her more than a passing glance when the house was filled with guests, several of whom were accomplished young ladies making their Society debuts. She was merely serving as companion to his aunt, Lady Audley. Hence, she was no one of importance.
“I can hear the caves singing,” she said, leaning closer to the edge as she watched the tide roll in. “Is this what gives them their song? The wave swells moving in and out, creating that distinct hum?”
“Yes, Miss Alwyn.”
She made the mistake of looking up at him again, and immediately felt the shock of his gaze sweeping over her. There was something quite seductive in the shape of his eyes, a slightdroop at the corners, as though he had just gotten out of bed or was about to lure her into it. She quickly turned away, irritated this man had the power to affect her so deeply. Why was she feeling any attraction to him?
She could not look at him without tingling, but all women responded this way whenever he was in their presence.
There was no prettiness about him, just raw maleness.
“Why did you say I must never go in them, Your Grace?” If that girl, who did not look more than sixteen or seventeen, could scamper in and out of those hollows, then what was the point of forbidding her? She met his gaze directly, a gesture he must have found amusing, if his wry smile was any indication.
His aunt had brought her here, for Heather was the old woman’s companion, and her duty was to tend to her during the duke’s house party. This party was to last the month, and many of his friends and their eligible daughters had been invited as well.
The whispers were that the duke was on the hunt for a wife.
Well, good luck to him.
Not that he would need it.
Even she swooned at the sight of him, and she did not really like him. Well, she liked him a little too much, but was afraid of him. His expression was always stern and forbidding, and he held himself apart from everyone. Perhaps dukes had to do this, build a protective wall to repel all those who would seek to use them.
The young ladies at this duke’s house party did not seem to mind his dour nature, for they fluttered around him like sparkling butterflies hoping to gain his favor.
“Why should I not explore the caves, Your Grace?” Heather prompted him when he did not immediately respond.
“It is too dangerous.” Awareness ran through her when he unexpectedly circled an arm around her waist to draw her back from the edge. “Especially for you.”
She burned where their bodies touched, her turmoil prolonged while he held her for several moments longer than was warranted.
