Dukes to Fall in Love With: A Historical Regency Romance Collection

by Bridget Barton

  If he were honest, Rufus did not mean a word of it. He had seen the competition between the sisters the first night he had met them at the masquerade ball, and their behaviour had certainly not improved upon the second meeting. If anything, he had thought them even more competitive and a little cutthroat with one another.

  He knew that young ladies could be cutthroat amongst themselves, but from sister to sister he found it most distasteful. It was as if they did not appreciate the close bond, not as he would have appreciated such a bond himself had he ever had a sibling.

  And their father was quite something else altogether. He was so keen to appear humble that he actually ended up appearing anything but. In one moment, he was ingratiating himself and, in the next, he seemed almost to be boasting and doing his best to tell the Duke how he ought to feel and think.

  You know my wife, of course … As you have seen for yourself, my daughters are very well groomed. And then, I am sure you know, Your Grace, young ladies of the calibre of my daughters are few and far between. He really was one of the most tedious men in creation; Rufus was in no doubt of that.

  “Yes, they are extraordinarily beautiful, Your Grace. And their father is such an agreeable man. And not only agreeable, Your Grace, but really very wealthy indeed.”

  “Yes, he seemed to make me aware of that fact over tea somehow. Not an easy thing to slide into the conversation, but the Earl of Dandridge managed it admirably.” Rufus was fighting to keep the sarcasm from his voice.

  “Probably just nerves, Your Grace,” Henry said, clearly in a forgiving mood.

  “Yes, probably just nerves.” Rufus did not want to appear ungrateful to the man who was, as always, working so very hard on his behalf.

  “I am sure that he will be much improved next time you see him. Next week, at dinner, I believe?” Henry spoke tentatively as if he were addressing a horse who was about to bolt.

  “Yes, I am very much looking forward to it,” Rufus said, injecting enthusiasm into his tone that he did not feel for a minute.

  And yet, at the same time, he knew that he did not want to miss an opportunity to attend Dandridge Hall again. Ella Winfield had affected him with her honesty and dignity, not to mention her plight. And, although she had explained her need for secrecy, although she had told him the truth of the source of the fear he saw in her face that afternoon at bridge, still he knew that she had simply skirted around the rest of it.

  It was clear to him that she had not wanted to play upon his emotions in any way; in fact, quite the opposite. Whenever he had tried to push for deeper information, she had countered with the idea that all that was needed in her circumstances was a little time for everybody to adjust.

  But from all he had seen that day at Dandridge Hall, he knew that that could not possibly be the case.

  And what sort of mother would ever have treated her own daughter in such a way, and in front of a Duke to boot? He wondered what kind of relationship existed between mother and daughter and if it had always been so, or if it had changed dramatically when the mother had married the Earl.

  Something about the whole situation made him want to find out more, particularly when the young lady had not done anything to seek his help, even though he felt sure he had made it plain that he would be happy to give it. She was not aloof, exactly, but rather she was self-contained, and probably a very resourceful sort of a woman.

  She had a certain spirit, something he could almost feel, and it reminded him somewhat painfully of his masked woman of a few short weeks ago. He still thought of her every day and wondered who on earth she could be.

  And he had continued to nurse a hope that he would one day cross paths with her again, and they could enjoy such an open and honest conversation, only without the need for masks this time. If only he had never met her, for she had become his true ideal, an ideal he did not know he would ever find again.

  But, in the meantime, he could certainly content himself with finding out a little more about Miss Ella Winfield and her circumstances. He knew nothing of the Winfield family and wondered if perhaps Henry Mercer might.

  “Henry, I must say that I found the Earl’s treatment of his stepdaughter curiously unnecessary.” As Rufus spoke, Henry Mercer’s head tilted to one side quizzically.

  “Stepdaughter?” Henry said, telling Rufus exactly that the man had no idea of the young lady’s existence at all.

  “Yes, when I attended for afternoon tea, I was reintroduced to Patience and Georgiana, and Lady Ariadne, of course, and then, after a certain pause, I was introduced to a Miss Ella Winfield. Actually, I was introduced to Miss Winfield, for that is how the Earl described her.”

  “Miss Winfield?” Henry looked completely set adrift.

  “Yes, I believe she is the daughter of the new Countess. She must lately have been married to a man called Winfield, presumably.”

  “Yes, presumably,” Henry agreed. “And I was vaguely aware that the Earl and Countess have recently married after both being widowed, but I do not know how long the Countess was widowed before she married the Earl. The Earl, I am quite certain, lost his wife a good many years ago when his girls were quite little, I believe.”

  “As far as I can make out, the Countess married the very minute her period of mourning was over, so her husband cannot have been dead much more than twelve months.” For some reason, Rufus did not want to give away too much.

  It was not that he did not trust his attorney, for if he could not trust him, who could he trust? But rather it was because he had made a promise of discretion to Miss Winfield, and he did not want to break it, even though she had only asked he not speak of it with her own family.

  “I say, that seems awfully quick,” Henry said and laughed. “Still, I suppose that is the modern way of things, and I am nothing but an old fossil.”

  “You are anything but, my dear Henry.” Rufus laughed.

  “You are very kind, Your Grace, but an old man must admit the thing that everybody else can see with their own eyes.”

  “So, you know nothing of the Winfield family at all?”

  “I am afraid that I had not heard of them until this conversation.”

  “I wonder who would know,” Rufus said idly.

  “Why, do you have a particular interest in the young lady?” Henry said, and Rufus realized that he had already given away too much.

  “No, not particularly,” he said as lightly as he could. “It is just that I did sense a little tension in the household and wondered if there was something I ought to know before returning to Dandridge Hall for dinner.”

  “Well, I shall make a few discreet inquiries,” Henry said and looked a little concerned. “But I am bound to say that they are a very fine family, and I cannot imagine that there is anything about them that would cause any particular objection if you found yourself drawn to one or the other of the sisters.”

  “I am quite sure too,” Rufus said and decided to change the subject. “Well, what of the other young ladies? Have any arrangements yet been made for me to meet with them?”

  “It is a work in progress, Your Grace. A work in progress.”

  Chapter 16

  “There is no need to argue, my dears, for you will both be sitting opposite the Duke, will you not?” Ariadne was putting on her finest motherly tone as she tried to pour oil on the troubled waters of the ever-deteriorating relationship between Patience and Georgiana Belville.

  “Yes, we will both be opposite him, Ariadne, but only one of us will be directly opposite him,” Patience said sharply. “And it ought to be me. Really, that I am forced to compete against my younger sister is ridiculous. It is for the older sister to find a husband first, is it not?”

  “But not when that husband is a Duke,” Georgiana complained. “I should have an equal chance to marry him Patience because it is unlikely that a Duke will come our way again. It is not fair to disqualify me simply because of my age.”

  “Neither one of you is disqualified, and neither one of
you has preferred treatment.” Ella could hear the exasperation creeping into her mother’s tone although it was fair to say that neither one of the Belville girls would have noticed.

  Ella smiled to herself, knowing how hard Ariadne would be working to keep a civil tongue. After all, if it had been Ella herself who was behaving so badly, Ariadne would have already walked away. Of course, Ella would never have behaved in such a way, and perhaps it was fitting that Ariadne finally realised what an easy time she had been given by a daughter who had been raised very well by the finest of fathers.

  For some time, Ella had been saddened by the kindness her mother seemed to lavish upon her two stepsisters, young women who clearly did not deserve such efforts. But now that she had come to realise that her mother was doing so under duress, she had found herself amused instead. Amused by the idea that her mother’s determined quest for status and money did at least come with some discomfort.

  Ariadne was not a motherly person by nature, and she no doubt longed for the day that either or both of the Earl’s daughters were married and far, far away from Dandridge Hall. And if she was honest, Ella had that much in common with her mother at least.

  Whilst Patience and Georgiana had never seemed close in the time that Ella had known them, their rivalry in respect of the Duke of Hillington had shown them as the bitterest enemies imaginable.

  The only time the two young women seemed to come together was in their disdain for Ella herself. Whenever she entered a room, they always paused just long enough to both turn and look at her, studying what she was wearing quite openly and making obvious eye contact with one another afterwards.

  In the beginning, Ella had found it most disconcerting and had felt a little humiliated by it. But now it was no more than further evidence of the worst case of ill-breeding she had ever witnessed and, rather than humiliating her, every episode seemed to highlight her own quiet superiority.

  It was not something that Ella was ordinarily given to, but in her current harsh circumstances, she would take whatever advantage she could get.

  “You see, Ariadne agrees with me,” Georgiana said, interpreting her stepmother’s words to her own ends. “I must be given a chance with the Duke.”

  “Ariadne said that we must both be given the chance, Georgiana.” Patience was growing furious. “Not just you.”

  “I did not say that it ought just to be me, I said that I ought to be given a chance too.” Georgiana was playing with words in a way which she clearly thought clever.

  “I think it would be better for the both of you if you could find yourselves on some better terms with one another before the Duke arrives,” Ariadne said gently. “Because he is a very intelligent man, and I have no doubt that if there is any tension between the two of you, he will sense it. And, after all, we would not want him to be put off the both of you all together, would we?”

  “No, we would not,” Patience said, still aggressively. “So, you must stop it now, Georgiana. I do not want your poor behaviour causing tensions that would turn the Duke away from me.”

  “And why is it my poor behaviour?” Georgiana said, turning to look at her sister so fast that her golden ringlets seemed to fly around her face.

  At that moment, Ella caught her mother’s eye. Ariadne looked as if she had been set adrift on a raft without an oar, leaving her floating this way and that on the current of her stepdaughters’ seemingly endless spite.

  Incredibly, Ariadne seemed to look at Ella beseechingly as if asking for her help in the whole thing.

  Ella could hardly believe it; the only member of the household who was ordinarily not allowed to sit down with the rest to eat was going to be asked to superintend an argument between two of England’s most spoiled young women.

  Ella, of course, had no intention of trying to help her mother calm her stepsisters. Instead, she smiled absently before rising from her seat and crossing the drawing room to peer out into the dark evening.

  “Well now, what a treat you both look,” Ronald Belville said as he strode confidently into the drawing room. “The extra time you have spent today in getting yourselves ready has certainly paid off.”

  Ella did not turn around, keeping her eyes fixed on the window. She could see little of the dark world outside but found that she had a perfect view of the rest of the family in the reflection in the glass.

  She could see Ronald as he circled his daughters, taking in every inch of their appearance. No wonder the young ladies thought that that was an appropriate way to regard another human being. When he had finished his circling, he stood before them and nodded appreciatively.

  “Yes, you have done very well. The Duke of Hillington would be a fool not to make one or other of you his bride.”

  “Thank you, Papa,” Georgiana said with an uncharacteristic display of good manners.

  “Yes, thank you, Papa,” Patience parroted. “I have worked very hard today to look my prettiest.”

  “And so have I,” Georgiana said with less grace.

  Ella looked at her own reflection in the black window and rolled her eyes. She could hardly begin to imagine why it was the Duke of Hillington was to return to Dandridge Hall.

  He was a quiet man and, in all other respects, appeared to be a man of good sense. But surely his only reason for accepting a further invite to Dandridge was to spend more time in the company of the two young ladies who were so forcefully being offered up as brides.

  She could not help wondering which of the Belville girls the Duke was particularly interested in. Neither one of them had much to recommend them, regarding personality at any rate. And, although both girls were always extraordinarily well turned out, their features were just a little too prominent for them to be considered beautiful.

  Their lips were very full, of course, and quite alluring, but when they smiled, it was apparent that their mouths were extremely wide; wide in a garish way which Ella thought suited their personalities perfectly.

  As she began to wonder what other young ladies the Duke might be considering, she realised that it was a train of thought she did not particularly enjoy. He was a nice man, and she did not want to see him deceived and steered by the Earl and Henry Mercer, and yet she knew it was a little more than that.

  On the occasions when she had been in his company, Ella had come to like him. He was handsome, certainly, but he was attractive to her in all senses. She knew she would never forget the fun and the thrill of the conversation they had enjoyed at the masquerade ball.

  Ella had been able to be herself entirely and enjoy it, in stark contrast to the further meetings she had shared with the man. In those, she had needed to conform to social normality, giving little away of her own awful circumstances even when he had asked, purely because discretion and pretence were so deeply ingrained.

  And even he had been different without his mask, although it was true to say he was somewhat more forthright than she was. But still, he had shown restraint in his conversation. If only they could have worn their masks forever.

  Still, however different they were with one another in the world of reality, the Duke of Hillington had shown her extraordinary kindness. As Violet had put it, he had stopped his carriage when others would have turned a blind eye. Perhaps it was his kindness that was leading her to have a greater feeling for him than the simple idea that a good man should not be deceived.

  Ella had stood in the window for so long she was still there when the Duke’s carriage finally arrived. As always, a great flurry of agitated activity consumed the room behind her as all present perceived his arrival. But Ella remained just a few moments longer, keen to see him step down from his carriage and walk towards the house.

  When he did step down from his carriage, Ella felt her stomach tighten. She could easily make out his handsome dark features in the moonlight and could see that he was as immaculately dressed as ever.

  In black breeches and tailcoat with a cream waistcoat, the Duke of Hillington was ideally dressed for dinner. As she
idly wondered whether Patience and Georgiana would be able to take their minds off their own competition for long enough to notice that a real man who had put in great effort was sharing their dinner table, the Duke suddenly turned, and she realised immediately that he was looking at her through the window.

  Ella was frozen to the spot for a moment, not wanting to dart away from the window, but not wanting to remain there and stare back at him either. And then, quite incredibly, he nodded at her. She wanted to nod back but knew she could not do so without drawing attention to herself from the rest of the family.

  She was sure that his nod contained more than a simple greeting because there was something curiously reassuring about it. It was as if he was trying to tell her something; perhaps merely that he would not give her away for having seen her at bridge.