A Forbidden Waltz With the Dashing Duke

by Hazel Linwood

  “It was a pleasure to share this dance with you, Your Grace.” She curtsied before him and then departed, leaving him behind her.

  “My dear Lady Rowena, I must say, you are indeed a vision on the dance floor,” the Duke of Thornmouth stood on the sidelines, having spent the cotillion conversing with her parents who were now taking a spin themselves.

  ‘Thank you, Your Grace is ever so kind.” She noticed for the first time the scar above his left eye and wondered how he had received it. Suddenly, he reached his hand up and toward his eyebrow and ran a finger over the scar.

  “I received it in battle in France.”

  She gasped and clasped a hand in front of her mouth. “How terrible. Waterloo?”

  He nodded and dropped his hand beside him. “Unpleasant business, that. Let us not dwell on it further. I do not wish to have our first evening together as a future couple ruined by talk of war.” He looked off into the distance and Rowena turned to see what he was looking at.

  Her heart sank. It was the Duke of Westmond he was looking at. He was presently speaking with Catherine, who scribbled on her dance card.

  “Duke Westmond appears eager to dance with your entire family, it appears.”

  Rowena wasn’t sure what the undercurrent in the man’s voice was. Jealousy perhaps? Just in case, she decided to further placate him.

  “My Father requested he dance with my sister, given that it is her coming-out ball and dancing with an eligible duke is most sought after.” She smiled at him, “And since you are no longer available, Your Grace–”

  His face lit up at the mention of their future union and she found that, without his serious expression he was quite handsome. There was even a trace of kindness in his face. Yet, she could not help but think of the way the Duke of Westmond had looked at her, the goodness that was so evident in his eyes.

  She shook her head, chasing the thoughts from her mind. Before her, the man she was to marry broke into a kind smile and offered her his arm.

  “That is true, indeed. I am no longer available, and neither are you. And a glorious development it is, especially for me. Would you care to accompany me for a walk, to take the air?”

  She nodded, not really wanting to leave, and yet knowing she could not say no for fear of upsetting him. She took his arm and allowed herself to be led into the garden, the same garden she had walked toward when the Duke of Westmond had stopped her in her tracks. This time, however, she made it outside.

  They walked along the lighted path past several other couples who had decided to take the same opportunity for alone time.

  “What a lovely evening it is.”

  She nodded, “It is.”

  He glanced at her, a grin on his lips.

  “And what a lovely lady you are, Lady Rowena. Allow me to express the joy it brings me to be side by side with you once more. I have to confess: you had not left my thoughts since our last dance.”

  She swallowed, remembering how she’d struggled to recall their earlier connection.

  “Your Grace is too kind,” she simply said.

  “I am glad you think so.” He paused for a moment, then looked at her intently. “I realize I have not yet apologized for my tardiness. I was held up in a meeting with the Lords Portsmouth and Darton, regarding an unfortunate matter back home. You will surely read about it in the papers tomorrow.”

  Portsmouth? Did he say Lord Portsmouth? Betsy’s future employer? Could it be?

  “Lord Portsmouth of Bedfordshire?”

  He raised one eyebrow. “One and the same, indeed. Do you know him?”

  She shook her head.

  “Not I, but my close childhood friend, Miss Elizabeth Carmichael is about to be employed by them as their governess.”

  “Is that so? A new governess for the Viscount already? Well done, Portsmouth.” The smirk on his face made her stomach twist into knots.

  What does he mean? Why does he say it in such a foreboding manner?

  “Is he not a kind man? The Viscount? Betsy is my dearest friend and I should not want her to be in harm’s way.”

  The smirk fell from his face and he shook his head.

  “Never you worry, my dear. Your friend will be treated very well, indeed. Now, I find myself suddenly famished. Would you care for a bite?”

  Confused as to the sudden change in their evening, as they had after all just moments ago stepped outside, Rowena shook her head.

  “Very well. Perhaps you would like to accompany me to the supper room then.”

  It was not a question; she could tell from the tone in his voice. So, she simply nodded and followed him inside, a terrible feeling in the pit of her stomach.

  Chapter 11

  Christopher found himself sitting in the armchair in his uncle’s drawing room, staring into the fading fire. It was chilly and he covered himself with a blanket he’d found thrown over the back of the seat.

  He had returned from the ball late, having awaited an opportunity to speak to Lady Rowena once more before leaving, but had found himself unable to do so.

  Thornmouth had not left her side for most of the evening. For the brief moments he did, her mother had occupied her time. He had noticed her glancing at him from time to time, looking away in embarrassment each time she realized he’d noticed.

  It is not much, but perhaps it is a sign that she does indeed feel what I feel. And perhaps there is a chance, despite her words about duty and expectation.

  Christopher had found himself dancing with various ladies, most of them very eager to spend time with him, proving his notion that his title mattered more than his wealth.

  Toward the end of the night, and after being prompted by Lord Hazelshire once more, he’d danced with Lady Catherine. He’d hoped that his brief dance with Lady Rowena’s sister would lead him to some useful information about the family. In particular about Lady Rowena and the unfortunate betrothal, but that had not worked to plan either. No, the young lady had been thoroughly occupied with talk of her own virtues and skills.

  At least Lord Hazelshire had seemed pleased at the sight of their dancing.

  He tilted his head back and let the last of the cup of ale run down his throat when the door opened, and his uncle entered.

  “Christopher? Why are you awake at this early hour?”

  Early? Is it indeed early already? How long have I sat here alone?

  “I must have not realized the passage of time, Uncle Nestor.”

  “Is the excitement from the ball keeping you awake?”

  Christopher shrugged but said nothing, which appeared to be answer enough for his uncle.

  “I see. What has happened? Would you care to share?”

  He sighed and leaned his head back against the chair.

  “Nothing happened and it looks as though maybe nothing will.”

  His uncle smiled kindly and Christopher saw his mother in his uncle for a brief moment.

  “I take it the reason for the Friday-face is a young lady? What happened, did she refuse to dance with you? Never you worry, some of these young ladies like to tease, just keep asking.”

  Christopher sighed. “This lady is no tease, Uncle. She is a proper lady. She is…” he shook his head as he thought of her, “there is something ever so special about her.”

  “Might I know her?”

  He shrugged. “Perhaps. Lady Rowena Burton. She is the daughter of-”

  “The Earl of Hazelshire. I know exactly who she is. A beauty if ever there was one. Although…” he tilted his head to one side, “I understand she is imminently to be betrothed to the Duke of Thornmouth. You may remember him. You met him at the House of Lords not long ago.”

  Christopher nodded, “I have had the questionable pleasure to get to know him better. And I understand there is to be a betrothal, but it is not yet official. Thus, it could be undone.”

  His uncle blinked and then nodded. “In theory, yes. But it would be a scandal. Thornmouth has made quite a show of telling everyone who would li
sten how madly in love he is with the lady. And his Father has made no secret of his willingness to go forward with a match. It would be very damaging to Hazelshire if he backed out of the arrangement.”

  “But not impossible.”

  “No, not at all. Since there is no written contract. However, I advise you to proceed with caution. Thornmouth is not only one of the highest-ranking Lords, but he is determined and no pushover. You do not want to get on his bad side. For that matter, neither will Hazelshire. This young woman must have made quite the impression on you for you to even consider such a possibility.”

  Christopher broke into a wide smile at the thought of her.

  “She is special. Her heart and her mind call out to me. I feel right when I am with her, as if there was a part of me missing until I met her.”

  “Love at first sight. I know exactly what you mean. I experienced the same with your aunt. I knew it was her when I saw her standing across the room at court. She claims she knew it too, but I suspect her of fibbing. I believe it wasn’t until she heard my deep baritone voice that she fell for me,” he broke into roaring laughter, for his voice was by no means deep, nor anywhere near the range of baritone. In fact, his uncle’s voice was very high for a man and something he’d struggled with much of his life.

  “So, you understand my dilemma.”

  “Somewhat. Of course, your aunt was not promised to anyone at the time, and I was in a position to provide prospects for her family. And it helped that her brother, your dear Father, took to me right from the start.”

  Christopher thought it over. He knew how he felt for Lady Rowena, and he had a good suspicion she at least was partial to him as well. Much more so than to the dastardly Duke Thornmouth.

  “I know I do not have much to offer Lord Hazelshire. Although, he appeared eager to make a match of me with his younger daughter, Catherine. He all but forced us to dance.”

  His uncle’s eyes brightened. “Is that so? Well, he certainly must see something in you, if he is willing to consider you for his younger daughter. It cannot be your wealth for that has dwindled somewhat. For the moment.”

  “The vineyard. Summerwind Wines. He is asking my help with a vineyard he purchased in Shropshire that is not going well.”

  His uncle smiled and shook his index finger.

  “And there it is. Your opportunity. You already have an establish rapport with the father. He’s willing to consider you for his daughter. Now you only have to convince him that it is his other daughter he ought to consider you to marry.”

  Christopher leaned forward. “How do I do that?”

  “Simple. Make yourself indispensable when it comes to the vineyard. Gain his trust. Let him see what a wonderful person you are. Truth be told, Thornmouth has a rotten temper and is prone to fits of rage. You are a much better prospective son-in-law, and with any luck, Hazelshire will soon think so as well. First things first. Get yourself an invitation to Lord Hazelshire’s home.”

  Christopher nodded. “He already asked me to meet him at White’s tomorrow, perhaps the next step will be an invitation to his home.”

  Uncle Nestor leaned back and cross one leg over the other. “You have a sharp mind. You are your Father’s son, indeed.”

  Christopher placed one elbow on the arm of his chair and rested his head in his hand. An invitation to dinner should not be difficult to get.

  Making myself indispensable should not be too difficult either. I am a rather sharp tack, if I do say so myself.

  Satisfied with the plan, Christopher rose.

  “I thank you for your advice, Uncle. I shall wake Henry now, for I require his assistance in this new venture.”

  He bowed his head to his uncle and made his way out of the room, a spring in his step.

  He would make her his yet. Thornmouth or no Thornmouth. Lady Rowena would be his love. He was certain of it.

  Chapter 12

  Rowena and Betsy walked along Half Moon Street, when Betsy stopped outside a shop window and gazed at a gown displayed within. It was made of fine muslin material and sparkled as it was embroidered with pearls and shimmering lace. It was indeed fit for a wedding.

  “This is the one, Rowena. The gown I told you about.” She stood and looked at it as if transfixed. “Isn’t it lovely? It is the dress I shall wear when you wed the Duke of Thornmouth. And with the salary I’ll receive from Lord Portsmouth, I shall be able to afford it without a problem.”

  Rowena nodded, although there was a heaviness in her heart. Betsy’s new position as governess was to begin at once. To Rowena’s great sadness, Lord Portsmouth intended to move the family back to their Bedfortshire home long before the end of the Season and remain in London by himself. An arrangement Rowena found more than odd.

  Alas, she could not help it. These were the conditions Betsy had been presented with and so it was to be. The two girls had decided to make the most of their time together and spent much of the previous week indulging in their favorite pastimes. They’d visited the menagerie; there they’d stopped to watch the tigers while eating candied fruit. They’d gone to the theater as well as taking many strolls through the various parks.

  All the while, Betsy had found occasion to bring up Rowena’s impending wedding time and again. Much to Rowena’s chagrin. She found it difficult to muster the enthusiasm to match that of her mother, her sister, or Betsy. All of whom appeared extremely excited at the upcoming event.

  She looked at the way her friend lovingly gazed upon the gown in the window, which she intended to wear for the wedding, and wished she could be half as excited about it. Yet, she felt nothing but dread. Especially since the meeting with the Duke of Westmond.

  She sighed at the memory.

  “Rowena,” Betsy exclaimed. “I have never seen you in such a miserable state. I thought for certain once you met the Duke of Thornmouth you would feel relief. By all accounts, he is a handsome and charming fellow. At least according to Lady Hazelshire and Lady Catherine. You have told me nothing whatsoever about him.”

  There was an accusation in her voice that stung. She had attempted to get information about the evening from Rowena, but Rowena had been sure to reply only in short answer, and she’d certainly not mentioned the encounter with the Duke. She placed a hand on her friend’s back.

  “I am sorry. I simply do not feel anything at all for him, thus I have not felt like talking about it. And the wedding fills me with dread.”

  She paused and considered her friend’s kind face. They’d always told one another everything. Yet she had been keeping the secret of her newly discovered feelings from her. She’d not wanted to speak the words out loud for fear they’d make the feelings true.

  But then, they are true, aren’t they? I can think of little else but him. Day and night.

  She linked her arm under Betsy’s and walked with her down the sidewalk. Looking over her shoulder, she made sure she was not seen by anyone she knew, nor her words overheard.

  When they found themselves alone on the sidewalk, Rowena dropped her voice to just above a whisper.

  “At Catherine’s coming-out ball, I danced with a Duke. Not Duke Thornmouth. Another young man. I have not been able to think of much but him since.”

  Betsy’s eyes grew large at this revelation.

  “And you have kept this news from me for nearly a week? Rowena! Who is the young Duke? What do you mean you can think of nothing but him?”

  “His name is Christopher Newmont. Duke of Westmond. He..”

  She got no further for Betsy’s eyes widened and her mouth fell agape.

  “The Duke of Westmond? The same one Lord Hazelshire has been speaking of, who’s to help with the vineyard? Owner of Summerwind Wines?”

  Rowena nodded. “The very same. Papa invited him to the ball as a thank you for helping him with the business. As I understand it, he is eager to set him up with Catherine. You can imagine how much it would please Mama to have both of her daughter married to dukes.”

  She was well
aware that her voice was tinged in anger.

  “And he is the one you have taken a shine to? Faith, Rowena you must tell me everything.”

  Rowena exhaled and cleared her throat. “There is not much to tell, for it is all rather pointless. But very well. It was curious. I felt an odd tingle within my belly when first I set eyes on him. I cannot quite explain it. It was almost as if I already knew him.”

  She thought back of that strange moment, that odd sensation. She would not admit it to Betsy nor anyone else, but she had that feeling still whenever she thought of him.