A Forbidden Waltz With the Dashing Duke

by Hazel Linwood

  He would instead speak to Rowena.

  “Your Grace?” Hazelshire’s voice drew him from his thoughts.

  “I am sorry, My Lord. I was lost in thought.”

  “I asked which church you attend on Sunday mornings.”

  Christopher hesitated for a moment, for in truth, he had not attended church since the death of his mother. However, he had for many years, and it was this memory he now relied upon.

  “My family has long attended St. Martin’s-in-the-Fields.”

  The Earl’s eyes lit with recognition. “Ah yes, a good place to worship. I have attended service there once or twice myself. However, I do prefer St. George’s of Hanover. Our church.”

  Suddenly, a thought popped into Christopher’s head. “I have heard many good things about it. I must admit, I have grown a little tired of St. Martin’s. The Vicar is somewhat repetitive. Perhaps I ought to visit St. George’s of Hanover instead one Sunday.”

  He had no way of knowing if the Vicar at St. Martin’s was repetitive or not, but it had been as good a cause as any to sway the conversation. And it was working.

  “Why don’t you attend church with us in the morning? Bring your brother. We shall all attend church and perhaps take the air after? I know several ladies in my family would be eager to see you.”

  Christopher knew well he was speaking of Catherine and Lady Hazelshire, but in his heart, he knew that it was Rowena who really wanted to see him. And he, her. With a wide grin, he accepted the offer and arranged to meet the family in front of the church the following morning. Now he only had to convince Henry that a visit to the church was in order to further his plans.

  Pleased, he bade the Earl farewell and made his way to his carriage.

  He was about to board when he felt a hand on his shoulder and found himself rudely spun around. He was not surprised to find himself face to face with the Duke of Thornmouth.

  Broad shouldered and with a scar above his eyebrow he was a menacing figure, especially with a scowl on his face. He leaned forward so their foreheads were almost touching.

  “You would be well advised to stay out of my way, Westmond. In politics and in life.”

  Christopher placed his hands on the other man’s chest and pushed him away.

  “I do not appreciate your rank breath so close to my face, Thornmouth.”

  He glared at him. If Thornmouth intended to disrespect him, then he would do the same.

  “Is that all you have? Childish insults? You are nobody. You are a duke in name only and everyone knows it. You are on the rocks. Everyone knows that also, most of all Lord Hazelshire.”

  Christopher scoffed. “Lord Hazelshire and I have engaged in a lucrative business venture together, and as much as I appreciate your concern regarding my financial situation, it shall not be a problem for much longer.”

  “I have heard of this unfortunate business partnership. And I told Lord Hazelshire I wish he’d consulted with me before, as I would have strongly advised against it. However, what is done is done. So, I have a word of advice for you. Several, in fact. One: If any harm comes to Lord Hazelshire due to this business arrangement of yours, you will answer to me. Two: You will not repeat today’s display. You will not ridicule and embarrass me in front of our fellow peers. And three: You will stay away from my betrothed. If I hear that you were around her again, as you were this past Wednesday, I will destroy you. That is a promise.”

  “I do not believe there is an official marriage contract between the two of you, unless I have missed the news.”

  Thornmouth shoved him against the carriage, prompting Christopher to return the favor which sent Thornmouth to the ground. Enraged he scrambled to his feet.

  “I have loved Rowena for longer than you have been duke. She is mine. I will make an offer in short order. She will accept and she will be the Duchess of Thornmouth by years end. There is nothing you can do about it. Now, you will heed my warning, or I will make sure you lose what little you have left.”

  Christopher knew he had to retain at least some control, for he could not afford to go into an outright war with this man. He appeared rather unstable.

  “There is no need for any of this quarrelling. As you well know, politics are politics and I shall continue to challenge you whenever it suits me with no regard as to whether you are embarrassed or not. If you cannot take a challenge perhaps you are not suited to call yourself a Peer of the Realm.”

  He inhaled sharply, ready to attack when Christopher raised his hand.

  “However, as for the other matters. The business arrangement is to my benefit as much as the Earl’s, so I would have no reason to sabotage or bring harm to it. And you do not need to fear for your union with Lady Rowena. The Earl has clear intentions for me to wed Lady Catherine, once my finances are in order.”

  The lie crossed his lips with ease. He knew he had to convince him that he had no intention toward Lady Rowena. If he did, Thornmouth would certainly make an offer at once. And with a valid contract in place, breaking it and making Rowena the Duchess of Westmont would be ever so much more difficult.

  Thornmouth squinted at him and shook his head. “I despise you, Westmond and the thought of having to call you family causes bile to rise inside of me. I warn you once more, stay away from Lady Rowena. Do not cross me. You will be sorry. That is a promise.”

  With that, he turned around and marched off into the distance, leaving Christopher to exhale. He slumped against the carriage and closed his eyes.

  Now that he had made closer acquaintance with his rival, he realized one thing: The fight for Rowena would be much harder than he’d anticipated.

  Chapter 18

  Rowena shifted from one foot to the other, nervously licking her lips. Her eyes scanned the crowd outside of St. George’s of Hanover for not one, but two familiar faces.

  She had to admit, she was not even sure who she was more eager to see, Betsy or the Duke. Her heart had leapt with joy when her father announced the Duke of Westmond and his brother were to join them for the service. After the abrupt end to their evening, she found herself even more eager to see him again.

  And then there was Betsy. It would be the first time she’d see her friend since she’d left to take her posting at Lord Portsmouth’s London home and she could not wait to hear how her posting was like.

  “I wonder if the Duke really is in search of a new church,” Catherine said quietly as she leaned over to her sister. “I suspect he only said so as an excuse to see you again.”

  “Shh, Mama might hear.”

  Catherine shook her head. “Mama is not paying us any attention. She is too busy showing off her new dress to Lady Marlborough to care what we are talking about.”

  Indeed, it was true. Lady Hazelshire was deep in conversation with Lady Marlborough, parading around her beautiful silk round dress. As the Lady Patroness of the famed Almack's, Lady Marlborough was a woman whose opinion mattered more than most. At least if you cared about that kind of thing.

  It is odd how until a few weeks ago she would have been attempting to partake in the conversation to gain favor with Lady Marlborough. Now, she did not care to be involved.

  She looked at her sister who was also eagerly scanned the crowd. Rowena felt a warmth wash over her. She had almost forgotten how scared she’d been that Catherine might give away her secret infatuation with the Duke. Now she wondered how she could have ever doubted her sister.

  After their mother had confronted them both about their unsavory argument, Catherine had taken all the blame. Claiming the argument was over a missing bandeau, Lady Hazelshire had scolded them both. Then she’d ordered Rowena to bed, for she truly had done her best to look miserable in order to make her ‘headache’ look believable.

  That had, of course, led to her not being able to say goodbye to the Duke. Well, not really. She’d made sure to stand at the window and watch him when he and his brother left. She knew in her heart he would turn and glance up at the window to see if she was ther
e.

  She didn’t know how she’d known, but she had. Indeed, he did turn to look at all the windows facing the street until their eyes had locked.

  “You are thinking of His Grace, the Duke of Westmont, this very moment. Admit it,” Catherine grinned. Rowena blushed but did not deny it.

  Before they could converse more, Catherine pointed up ahead and jumped up and down in excitement.

  “There she is! Betsy.”

  Rowena turned and found her feet wanting to break into a run as her dearest friend approached them. Reminding herself to maintain proper decorum, Rowena made her way toward her friend and the two embraced, followed by Catherine.

  They had only been apart a few days, but it felt like forever. Betsy, to Rowena’s relief, appeared happy and smiled from ear to ear.

  “I have missed you, my dearest friends,” she said.

  “And we you! I am ever so pleased Lady Portsmouth let you come, even though they favor St. Martin’s-in-the-Fields.”

  Betsy shook her head. “She knows this will be my last chance to visit the church before we depart for Bedfordshire. She was quite understanding.”

  The reunion was ever too brief for Lord and Lady Hazelshire were quick to join them.

  “This looks like a very merry reunion. May I join?” The voice made Rowena’s blood run cold, for it belonged to none other than the Duke of Thornmouth. She tore her eyes away from Betsy and faced the man she was meant to wed.

  “Your Grace,” she curtsied before him, followed by her mother, who’d rushed over, and sister.

  “My dear Rowena, how lovely you look. A vision. A diamond of the first water, indeed.”

  “Tipping over the butter boat, isn’t he?” Catherine muttered under her breath as she glimpsed at Rowena who forced a smile on her face at the compliment.

  The words felt hollow, not at all like the last time she’d heard them, spoken in the garden beneath the apple tree. Spoken by the man she truly longed to see.

  “I did not know you were joining us today, Your Grace,” Rowena said, sure to make her voice sound neutral. She could not allow the disappointment she felt to bleed through.

  “I had not planned on it, but I woke this morning feeling in a pious mood. I have not attended church enough, I must confess. I recalled Lord Hazelshire mention that you attend this church, so I decided to do so as well. I trust you do not mind?”

  She minded. She minded very much. Not only did his presence ruin her reunion with Betsy, it ruined any chance she had of spending time with the Duke of Westmond. Or Christopher, as she’d grown to think of him.

  “Of course not, Your Grace,” she blinked, her eyes darting back to the scar above his eyebrow.

  I wonder if he really received it at Waterloo. I do not know why, but there is something about him that I find…untrustworthy.

  “Lady Catherine, as beautiful as your sister. It must run in the family,” he nodded his head toward her sister who gave him a crooked smile. “Where is your paramour? The Duke of Westmond?”

  Catherine swallowed and looked at Rowena who bit her lip.

  “I am uncertain. I am sure he will join us soon,” Catherine said.

  “Well, His Grace must be delayed,” Lord Hazelshire said as he looked around. “And so is my son, it seems. Perhaps we had better take our seats.”

  Rowena saw that the crowd had begun to file into the church. With a heavy heart, she took Duke Thornmouth’s arm and headed inside.

  Rowena found herself relieved to be seated between Catherine and Betsy, thanks to the quick action of her sister. The moment the Duke stepped away from the pew to greet an acquaintance, she’d slipped into the seat next to her sister, forcing him to sit beside their father.

  Rowena saw the way he glared at Catherine and it made her ever more reluctant to have anything at all to do with him. The row of seats behind them was empty. Usually the pew was taken up by their brother, Charles, his wife, and sometimes her family. It is where the Duke and Mister Newmont would have sat, had they arrived. As it was, the entire pew was empty.

  She took the opportunity to lean over to Betsy.

  “How is your posting? How are the children?”

  She smiled. “They are a delight, a delight indeed. And Lady Portsmouth is such a lovely woman. The Viscount is a little odd. I do not think he likes me much; he is always looking at me in an unsettling fashion, as though he does not approve of me.”

  Rowena patted her friend’s hand. “Do not worry, I am sure he is simply worried for his children. Once he knows you better and sees how reliable you are, he will certainly warm to you.”

  “I hope you are right,” Betsy said with a sigh.

  “Psst, look,” Catherine whispered from beside them and nodded her chin to the entrance.

  Looking over her shoulder, Rowena broke into a wide grin. There he was–the Duke of Westmond. He was heading down the aisle next to his brother. Trailing a short way behind them was Charles, their brother, and his wife, Margaret. Margaret was round with child and Rowena found herself surprised to see her here. She’d taken to her bed for several days now.

  The small group slipped into the empty seats behind them and chatter ensued between the family members.

  “We were delayed. The carriage broke down several streets from the church,” Charles explained, his blue eyes wide with excitement. “It was ever so fortunate that the Duke and his brother stopped and asked if we required assistance.”

  “Well, that was ever so kind of you, Your Grace,” Lord Hazelshire said with a wide smile of appreciation.

  “It seems you rescue every member of our family,” Lady Hazelshire added with a polite chuckle.

  Charles slapped Christopher on the back. “Judging by the look of disappointment on his face, His Grace was hoping to find someone other than myself and my wife in the carriage.”

  He meant Catherine of course, but Rowena could not help and smile to herself. He looked at her then, a mischievous sparkle in his eyes as he winked at her. Discreetly he pointed his index finger at her and mouthed ‘You’.

  She felt herself blush and had to remind herself where they were.

  Why is it that whenever I am near him, I feel as though we are alone? As though we are surrounded by a cloud of anonymity, a wall no one but he and I may step behind?

  She shook her head to clear the thoughts from her mind as up ahead the Vicar entered and she had to pull herself out of the delirious state being near him put her in.

  Rowena found herself having a difficult time following the sermon for several reasons. Knowing that Christopher was seated behind her and feeling his eyes on her certainly was one. Behind them, she heard Margaret moaning in a low tone about the discomfort she was going through, soothed by Charles.

  “Isn’t be handsome?” her sister suddenly whispered into her ear.

  “The Duke?” Rowena asked, perplexed by the sudden comment. To her surprise, Catherine shook her head, glancing behind them with a smile.

  “Henry. The Duke’s brother.”

  Rowena frowned, forgetting all of her mother’s warning. “Henry? I thought you consider him a bore.”

  She found her sister looking back once more at the young man who was seated beside Charles. To her surprise, he too appeared to smile at her sister. She elbowed Catherine gently and they broke their gaze.

  “I thought he was a bore too, but after you took ‘ill’ after the dinner and had to remain in your chambers, I had to find entertainment somewhere. Papa and the Duke were often engaged in conversation, especially when Charles called later in the evening.”

  “Charles?” Having been forced away for the evening thanks to her feigned headache, she’d missed the entire rest of the night.

  “He called around after you went to bed. Took up all of Papa and the Duke’s time. If it had not been for Henry asking me to play him some music it would have been one boring evening. Henry even danced with Mama!”

  Rowena’s head spun. She’d had no idea any of this had taken plac
e, as she’d spent the evening with Betsy, the last evening they had together before her departure.

  “Does this mean you…are you enamored of the Duke’s brother?”

  Catherine shrugged. “He is a very nice young man. He is going to lend me one of his books.”

  Books? Rowena felt as though she had woken in some other reality where her sister was an avid reader.

  “Is that so?”

  Catherine smiled and picked up the prayer book before her. “It is. He’s very well read. And I shall be too, with his help. A lady can never have too many virtues, Rowena.”