The Wild Duchess/The Willful Duchess (The Duchess Club Book 1) (28 page)

“Didn’t you? Is it really so shocking?” He looked directly into her eyes, a solemn inquisitor. “What
did
you expect to happen, Miss Blackwell?”

“Pardon me?” It was hard to concentrate when she was looking up at him, his gaze locked onto hers, a distracting heat garbling her thoughts.

His pace slowed but he continued to walk with her. “The friend I spoke of was the Duke of Chesterton. My duty compelled me to come here and so I ask without apology, what are your hopes, Miss Blackwell, in regards to Chesterton? What are your aims?”

There was something in the direct nature of the question that immediately awoke a chilling alarm inside of her.

He isn’t here for a social call.

This is something else entirely and I was a fool to think otherwise.

Scarlett blinked, striving to compose her thoughts and regain perspective. “What an odd question. Are you asking me if my intentions are honorable? Are you worried about the Duke of Chesterton’s virtue?”

He didn’t smile or wave off the jest. Instead, he continued to look at her as soberly as a judge awaiting a proper answer—as if he had every right to an answer.

“I see,” she said softly.

“Do you?” he asked. “Chesterton has long been my friend and mentor. It is only natural that I seek reassurances.”

She could feel the heat in her cheeks but prayed that he mistook the change in her color for weakness and not recognize that its true cause was rage. “Well, that’s jolly then. You’ve come here and can count yourself reassured.”

He continued to walk and Scarlett felt trapped in the ritual by his side. His expression was raw with skepticism. “Tell me, if you would, Miss Blackwell, how did you first meet Chesterton? Who introduced you to him?”

“Why? Are you going to punish them for it?”

He said nothing, instead finally stopping to allow them to stand in front of the fountain at the garden’s center. The sound of water falling and flowing was meant to calm and soothe but today, the magic couldn’t overcome the odd tension in the air.

Scarlett chafed again at the silence. “It is new.”

“Yes. New.”

She pulled her hand away and shifted from his reach. The Duke of Stafford didn’t look impressed and he’d said the word ‘new’ as if it implied a lack of quality or taste. She’d had enough. He was like the rest of them, insinuating scorn, encased in a superiority that wasn’t earned but inherited. Handsome beyond reckoning he may be, but the luster was lost.

“Father designed it and took great care. It was a gift to Mother to lure her out into the gardens and away from the library.” She stopped, a hammer of frustration pounding in her temples.
Why am I telling him anything of our lives? He has no right to know anything of us and certainly less of me.

She stomped her foot and earned an arch look of surprise from her caller. Scarlett immediately released his arm and moved from his reach but she didn’t wish to involve Mrs. Hastings so she deliberately kept her expression sweet. A row with a duke in her family’s garden would only hurt her mother and father but there were other ways to send a man packing.

“I’m sorry, Your Grace. I am suddenly cross with myself for chattering away about such a thing when you must have gardens and fountains to rival Versailles. How silly I must seem!”

“Not at all but—”

“Imagine it! The Duke of Stafford calling on me! Who would have guessed at it?” She sighed. “I owe you so many thanks for making the day a triumph, Your Grace. And for showing your support.”

“My support,” he echoed in surprise.

“And your support of your friend!” Scarlett smiled, a bright and relentless force. “Such a gentlemanly courtesy and as the Duke of Chesterton is your dear friend, I know he’ll be so touched to hear of your presence here.”

He blinked in shock and Scarlett savored her victory…even if it was all too brief.

The Duke of Stafford cleared his throat. “Yes. Well, it is the first triumphant day of many in your presence. Let us pray you don’t tire of me, Miss Blackwell.”

“What? Why—would I tire of you? I doubt I would have the chance.”

“Oh, you’ll have too many chances to count, Miss Blackwell. As you’ve noted, since I’m such a
dear friend
of Chesterton, I consider it my duty to be on hand to escort you when he cannot and to do what I can to offer assistance to you both.”

“Oh.”

“What friend would do less?”

She shook her head, a woman at a loss for words.

He went on with a smile, his charm only making the turn of events harder for her to navigate. He looked like a pirate who had hoisted his colors. “And what woman would refuse an offer of honorable and illustrious company?”

He had her. One didn’t usually pout that one duke was plenty, thank you very much.

And more importantly, I gave Elgin my word, we shook hands and I swore to stick to the scheme. Blackwells keep their word. Even when it means not kicking the shins of the world’s most arrogant man when you wanted to.

Her voice finally returned. “I’m so lucky and the Duke of Chesterton is so fortunate in his friends.” Scarlett brushed off her skirts and then touched her forehead as if to shade her eyes. “Alas, my sister seems to have forgotten the parasol and I fear I’ll turn brown as mud if I’m not careful of the sun. It was a pleasure to meet you, Your Grace.”

She curtsied and then called out to Eleanor. “Mrs. Hastings! Would you walk His Grace out? I must see after Starr and ensure that all is well. It’s been such a lovely afternoon and I do look forward to meeting you again. If you’ll excuse me.”

She turned and without looking back, walked as quickly as she could out of the garden and into the sanctuary of the house.

Talon watched her retreat. Speed did not diminish the effect of her graceful strides and he was forced to admire how the fall of her bustled skirt only added to the impression of a mermaid’s tale and an otherworldly beauty.

It was several awkward seconds before Eleanor Hastings gathered her wits enough to speak. “Your Grace, I must apologize. The girls are impulsive but never out of malice. I hope you aren’t insulted by the odd turns of the day.”

“Not in the slightest but I can show myself out, Mrs. Hastings. Do not trouble yourself.” He nodded, a rushed courtesy, then left the garden with confident steady strides. His steps were jaunty and Talon had to struggle not to smile.

He had never before had a young woman speak to him as she had or been so self-possessed in his presence. There’d been no fluttering of fans or any betrayal that she was aware of the chasm of social class between them. Both of the twins defied convention but it was Scarlett who concerned him. Miss Scarlett Blackwell was so much more than he’d expected but one thing was clear. She was no meek thing to have innocently ensnared Chesterton. Her intelligence betrayed her, in his opinion. She was clever enough to manipulate an older man and achieve a rich prize. She’d obviously sensed his objection to her and craftily changed tactics by trying to drive him off. When she’d pointed out that he had only strengthened her cause, he’d nearly retreated.

Nearly.

But Talon Rush was not a man to shrug off a good battle and the delightful look on her face when he turned the tables was something he might appreciate even to his dying day.

God, that woman gets prettier when she’s vexed. I should be careful or I’ll forget my goals and fall under her spell myself.

Never fear.

Robbing that lovely fortune hunter of her prize is going to be one of the greatest pleasures of my life.

I
t was
a lovely party at Sussex House and while not officially a ball, musicians were on hand and a large room had been cleared for the guests’ entertainments. Of course, there were also card games and a banquet, but Chesterton knew that for Scarlett it was the dancing that appealed most.

Or
usually
appealed. Tonight, she was quieter than he could ever recall. A quick study of her sister added to the puzzle as both the Blackwell Beauties seemed distracted and distant in the midst of all the finery and chaotic fuss of a grand social gathering. Their shy chaperone, Mrs. Martin, was less a shepherd and more a shadow as the evening evolved.

“Miss Blackwell, are you not dancing tonight?” Elgin finally said as he approached the trio. “Is there something wrong? Sussex has a very fine conservatory if you were looking and didn’t find it. I believe his collection of jungle palms is unmatched for providing cover.”

Scarlett smiled. “I refuse to hide ever again.”

“Mrs. Martin, do you mind if I take a turn about the house with Miss Blackwell? We will naturally stay to the party and not stray out of sight, I swear it on my honor.”

Sabrina pressed her hand against her heart, her eyes wide. “I…suppose that would be fine…if….Scarlett wishes to.”

Starr smiled. “I’m sure it is proper, Mrs. Martin, or the duke would not have suggested it. Yes?”

“You are correct, Miss Starr.” He held out his elbow for Scarlett to take, bowed to the ladies and led Scarlett away through the crowd.

“Did you just kidnap me?”

He nodded. “Very effectively.”

“Is walking about a party with a duke as scandalous as dancing with one?” she asked.

“Probably but it is too late now. If you run screaming, we are both sunk.”

“God, I wish I was as fearless as you are.”

“Miss Blackwell, what are you thinking over there? I’ve seen monks look more cheerful.”

“I’m thinking that I have adversaries at every turn. The world is not so keen to see someone rise higher than they feel she should.”

“They do lash out. But you have just as many supporters and friends.”

“I am very lucky.”

“Is Talon counted amidst your detractors or your friends?”

She blushed unable to answer him.

Elgin went on. “He likes you. Don’t tell him I said so but I am secretly hoping for great happiness for you, dearest. Stafford is a good man.”

“He made it clear he thought I was a fortune hunter when we first met. But lately…he is…he has become very attentive, Your Grace, and…he can be very charming.”

“First impressions always give way. You like him despite them, don’t you?”

Instead of a shy confession or the smiles he expected to come with declarations of her affection for Stafford, her composure crumbled as her lips trembled and her eyes filled with tears. “I…”

“Oh, dear. This will not do. Everyone will accuse me of making you cry and it’s a scandal in the making if they think I’ve broken your heart.” Elgin smiled but began to look about the rooms to think of the best way to manage things. “There! Cards!”

“C-cards?”

He guided her as quickly as he could to a very small table tucked into the corner of a room where the musicians were tuning up. He sat her down in a chair that he positioned to put her back to most of the room and then ostensibly took the opposing chair, pulled out a deck of wrapped cards from his coat’s inner pocket and began to shuffle the cards for a game they would never actually play. “If anyone asks, I am teaching you how to play a wicked version of whist.”

“I don’t know how to play whist.”

“Perfect!” Elgin smiled and began to reshuffle the deck and give her time to compose herself. “We are hiding in plain sight. So now you can tell me what has hurt you so. Or rather should I ask who?”

“Don’t tease. I can’t—I want to be witty and sweet whenever we’re together, my friend. But I…don’t think I can muster it tonight, Your Grace.”

“We are friends, aren’t we, Miss Blackwell?”

“Yes. We truly are, or at least, that is how I feel. I still marvel that you are not awash in regret and avoiding greenery as often as you can lest another debutante or two set upon you.”

“What a gift you are to me,” he sighed. “All right then. As a true friend, you must tell me what troubles you, yes?”

“I will tell you but only with the understanding that you can do nothing to resolve it, that I would not have it of you to interfere in any way.” She reached for his hand. “Promise? Promise that you will not take it upon yourself to solve things or…guide them?”

He said nothing but waited patiently, his expression the soul of caring.

“They say that love makes us fools. But I fear I was a fool to begin with to even—” Tears overtook her and her composure crumbled. “What is the use in being wise enough to know that someone is an impossible choice if your heart refuses to listen?”

“Ah, there’s a question to plague a poet,” Chesterton said with a sigh.

“Worse. I think I truly am a Blackwell.”

“I am lost on that point, dearest. What does it mean to truly be a Blackwell?”

“My father—he does not love in half measures and his attachment to mother is…” Scarlett let out a ragged exhale to try to steady herself. “I truly believe his love for her frames his every heartbeat, his every thought, his every decision. We tease him about it, Your Grace. I…I teased him but secretly I admired his fate.”

“A natural enough thing to envy.”

“But I fear it, too. I think Starr does as well and that is why she loses dance cards and hides in the library.”

“Is it really that terrifying a thing?” he asked.

Scarlett nodded. “Yes. Because once he was set on her, what if she had refused him? Who would he have become? Or what if she’d been a terrible choice and said yes? He’d have loved her blindly into ruin and never looked back.”

“Ah, I begin to see.”

“I worry that I am not in danger of being mildly fond of Rush. I am not caught in a passing infatuation. I am…oh, God! I would be lost! I’m sick with it and stupid—I am made the very caricature of romance that I’ve spent a lifetime trying to hold at arm’s length. I made light of it! Can you imagine? I? I am a girl who is now mooning after a man who is so far above me socially that I am exposed to the worst judgments and condemnation. I am in danger of falling for a man who made me want to kick him in the shins when we first met; a man who makes me weak and warm and unstable every time he touches me? How is this even possible that I could have missed the critical step?” Scarlett covered her face with her hands. “What if I’m already in love with a
duke
? God help me!”

Out of her sight, Elgin struggled to keep a straight face as she accented the word ‘duke’ the way a person would accent the word ‘donkey’. She was the prettiest and most miserable creature in the vast world and as he was not the duke in question, it was easy to enjoy the subtle irony of love’s cruel twists. He reached across the table to gently pat her on the shoulder, the awkward gesture only adding to the comedy of the moment.

“There, there. I’ve met your father and he strikes me as a very strong man. I like the way he carries himself and there is a charm there that negates every effort he makes to demonstrate his lack of concern for the opinion of others. He wins them over while projecting the fact that he needs none of them.” Elgin took a deep breath. “I say this only because you see your father as vulnerable because of his tender passions and I see something else.”

“What do you see?” she asked without lifting her head.

“I think the way he loves, so single-mindedly and without apologies, makes him stronger.” He sat up a little straighter, the role of wise mentor dictating a more serious stance even as he began to reshuffle the cards yet again. “You are a lioness, Miss Blackwell. And while weeping does tend to provide temporary relief, I don’t think it’s a solution, do you?”

Scarlett spread her hands slightly to peer warily at him through the blades of her fingers. “It never is.”

“First, we must see what the problem truly is. Is it that you are in love? Or is it rather that you are in a love with a most unworthy animal known as a duke? Or is it just the Duke of Stafford that we find challenging in the species?” Elgin cleared his throat. “Mind, I am hoping you are going to choose the latter.”

Scarlett dropped her hands, her countenance slowly brightening with the game. “I don’t know which has me most pained but if it were not Stafford I don’t think I can imagine feeling this way.”

“I see. So you would not be so unhappy to love as completely as a Blackwell is prone to love if it were a less prominent man?”

“Yes, but it
is
Stafford. And he
is
a duke. So that was a circular bit of advice, Your Grace.”

“I haven’t gotten to the advice yet. Patience, Miss Blackwell.”

“I apologize. Do go on.”

“Stafford is very confident and self-assured. Good qualities, granted, but we must not let him get ahead of himself. He approached you at first because he thought I was mistaken in setting my sights on you.”

“Especially since I am very elusive and difficult.”

“Very good! That’s the spirit!” He was warming to the topic now. “I wonder that his interest in you is not vaguely encouraged by the notion of a rival… So rather than clear the way for him too quickly, let’s keep him on his toes. That way you have a good excuse to set whatever pace you are comfortable with. Talon is a gentleman and must respect your wishes. It also gives you time to discern his true feelings. What do you think?”

“I don’t want him to conclude that I’m lying to you and drawing things out to…hurt you.”

“Agreed. Tell him that I didn’t let you get a word in edgewise and that you are doing your best to let me down gently. Then it is my fault that things have not progressed and not yours. He will believe that I am dragging my feet without a single question.”

“Really?”

“Oh, yes. You are not the only one who can be difficult.” Elgin gathered up the cards to tuck them away, feeling supremely pleased with his talents for matchmaking. Talon was the perfect match for her and even if Talon had already fallen for her, the boy needed to step up and declare himself.

This should do the trick!

“Now what?”

“Well, let’s take that turn about the room, look cheerful in each other’s company and keep them guessing which duke you will finally choose, shall we? After all, you don’t want your handsome young Stafford to become lazy or arrogant in his pursuit, right?”

“No.” She stood as he did. “You are sure?

“I am sure of this and nothing else. Hold as tight to your heart as you can, Miss Blackwell. Hold fast until you are so sure, that you swear you could fly to him if he asked it. Trust me in this. Let him declare his feelings and beg for your hand in marriage and only then, relax your hold and then never look back.”

“This conspiracy of ours has become nothing I expected, Your Grace.”

“I was about to say the same thing, but I would not have it any other way.” He held out his elbow again. “Come, Miss Blackwell. You’ve a duke to catch.”

R
yder walked
into Sussex House and did his best to ignore the ache in his back from his brutal journey from Cornwall to London in record time. He’d wasted no time, not even stopping in to let his uncle know he was in Town but had raced to be in place. Fatigue made all his mother’s arguments seem sounder and more plausible as the hours unfurled.

By the time he’d handed his coat to the footman, he was nearly convinced that his next stop might be a magistrate.

“Lord Hayle!” Lady Durham approached him in the foyer. “We have not heard from you since last Season, you naughty man! Stealing my Charlotte’s heart and disappearing into the wilds of Cornwall!”

He sighed. Lady Durham was a notorious matchmaking mama and a woman he strenuously avoided and her daughter had said three words to him over three months of disinterested meetings so if he’d stolen her heart, Ryder couldn’t imagine how or why. But tonight, when he saw her he recalled that there was no bigger gossip or hoarder of vital information in his sphere—which made her the perfect person to help him make quick work of his mission.

“Lady Durham, I wonder if you might assist me this evening. I particularly wish to meet Miss Scarlett Blackwell. Word has reached me in Cornwall that the young lady is…a person I must be introduced to.”

“Oh, yes! Yes, of course!” Lady Durham led him into the party. “I try not to speak ill of others but if I may say in trusted confidence, Lord Hayle, she is the worst sort of girl! The very worst!”

“Truly?”

“I can see how a man of a certain age would be prone to flattery and be so quickly beguiled by such a creature but she is so—forthright and without a shred of modesty. I have forbidden Charlotte to be within a hundred steps of her for fear of the influence and association that women like that can taint the innocent with. Shocking, isn’t it? To consider the loss of the connection with the Duke of Chesterton but who knows how many backs will turn if she has her way?”