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

by Bridget Barton

  “Yes, of course, you must return to her,” Georgina said, kindly releasing him from any obligation he might feel.

  “Although I think I should much rather continue to stand here with you and look out of the window.” He smiled again, and his pale eyes caught hers for a moment and held them.

  “You are very kind.” It was all that Georgina could think of to say, for she felt suddenly a little tongue-tied.

  “And perhaps, if you are not otherwise engaged, you might care to partner me for a game of bridge later if you have a mind to play.”

  “Yes, I should like that very much, Your Grace.”

  “Then I will come and find you when Mrs Phillips releases me properly,” he said and bowed deeply before turning to leave her.

  As Georgina watched him leave, she thought what a very appealing man he was. With or without his title, Emerson Lockhart was very comfortable company, almost like an old friend. She could not imagine feeling so with any other Duke in all of England and wondered why it was she was not at all intimidated by him.

  As she looked around the room, Georgina could see many young ladies allowing their gaze to stray in his direction as he regained his seat on a small couch opposite Mrs Phillips. He was very handsome, with his hair still looking a little unruly, but his dress immaculate. He was wearing largely brown, a colour which entirely suited his hair and complexion.

  But despite his handsomeness, Georgina wondered how many young ladies present would be trying to catch his eye if he were not the Duke of Calder. Perhaps all, perhaps none.

  “My dear Georgina, I am beginning to think that the Duke has a liking for you,” Fleur said in an excited whisper.

  “Oh, Fleur,” Georgina said, startled out of her reverie.

  “Forgive me, I did not mean to come upon you so suddenly,” Fleur said and began to laugh.

  “No, no, I am quite alright. Do not fear, you will not need to hurry me down below stairs and pour me a glass of cooking brandy.” Georgina smiled. “Tell me, is Lady Maud faring a little better?”

  “Yes, very much better.” Fleur’s pretty blue eyes danced, and Georgina knew that the whole thing had amused her greatly. “Although I do nurse a hope that so large a serving brandy will not render her a little wobbly later on.”

  “Thank heavens for Mrs Phillips.”

  “And for you, apparently, for to return to my original thought, the Duke does seem to have an interest in you.” Fleur’s tone had become gossipy, and she looked at her cousin expectantly.

  “I must admit that I was quite surprised when he joined me at the window. But, apparently, Mrs Phillips had gone to request some more tea for them both, leaving him alone.”

  “So, he did not waste a moment in coming to speak with you.” Fleur looked excited.

  “I think he was just pleased to see a friendly face, somebody who perhaps he did not have to try quite so hard for,” Georgina said thoughtfully.

  “Yes, I must admit that the two of you do seem at your ease together.”

  “And I do not think him as comfortable in the role of Duke as he might be.”

  “No, perhaps not.” Fleur had narrowed her gaze in thought.

  “For why else would he have come here today to fulfil such a small standing invitation? Perhaps the little events might help him get used to the larger ones.”

  “Or perhaps he had hoped to see you here, Georgina,” Fleur said, and her pretty blue eyes widened at the thought of it.

  Chapter 7

  When the invitation was received, all of Winton House seemed to fall into a wonderful, excited sort of turmoil. Fleur seemed almost fit to burst with all manner of observations that she could not possibly make to Georgina with the family present.

  And Felix himself seemed pleasantly upended by the whole thing, talking more than usual and a good deal faster.

  “Well, I suppose we did spend a fair amount of time in conversation with His Grace at the garden party,” Felix said in a hearty tone as if he was trying to take the whole thing in his stride. “But still, for us to be invited to Calder Hall for afternoon tea is quite a thing, girls, is it not? And what do you say, Jeremy?”

  “I am very pleased to be invited, Father, but I cannot begin to imagine that I am the reason for such an invite,” he said and looked at his sister and then Georgina. “I daresay it is one of these very fine-looking creatures.”

  “Jeremy, behave!” Fleur said although her attempted chastisement fell victim to her own excitement and pleasure at the invitation.

  “I do hope my sister and my cousin are not about to fall out over a man, even if he is a Duke,” Jeremy went on, clearly enjoying his opportunity to tease much more than he enjoyed the idea of the invitation. “For they have been getting along as sisters, and I should hate to see a man come between them, even if he is the most powerful man in the county.”

  “Well, if the Duke of Calder has an inclination towards either Fleur or Georgina, you must do nothing to upset it, Jeremy.” Felix laughed. “What man in his right mind would not think them the most beautiful women in the world.”

  “Oh, Papa.” Fleur giggled excitedly. “But I do not think it is me that the Duke is interested in.” Her excitement had led her to be a little garrulous.

  “Ah, so it is the beautiful Miss Jeffries.” Jeremy smiled broadly and bowed deeply in his cousin’s direction. “And very natural too.”

  “Well, your visit here to Winton House is certainly turning out to be eventful, Georgina.” Felix laid a comforting hand on her shoulder. “And I am pleased that you do not bend and certainly do not break in the face of my son’s perpetual teasing.”

  “Not at all, Sir. Jeremy is a pussycat really,” she said and held Jeremy’s gaze, humorously challenging him.

  “I am, my dear.” Jeremy was still highly amused. “All teeth and claws, Georgina.”

  “All fur and laziness more like,” Fleur added.

  “What is all this excitement?” Mirabelle Allencourt, or Great-Aunt Belle as she was known to all, walked sedately into the drawing room.

  There really was a strong resemblance to Georgina’s grandmother, Elizabeth, except that Mirabelle was plumper, and her face had a very pleasing softness.

  Elizabeth Allencourt, or Lady Elizabeth Jeffries, the Baroness, as she had become, had been angular in all respects now that Georgina came to compare her to her sister.

  It had always been clear to Georgina that her grandmother was neither maternal nor did she have a fondness for her only grandchild. She seemed always to be more concerned with appearances than anything else, always determined that the Jeffries family name should be well respected and protected.

  Georgina could not remember a single moment of warmth passing between herself and her grandmother, although she had never particularly mourned its loss. Her own mother had warmth enough to sustain Georgina, and so she had treated her grandmother as someone to be more or less avoided, particularly as a child.

  “We have been invited to take afternoon tea with the Duke at Calder Hall,” Felix said brightly as he rushed to take his aunt’s arm and guide her into the most comfortable of the heavy brocade covered armchairs near the fire. “What do you say to that, Aunt Belle?”

  “I say that is quite surprising, my dear Felix,” she said with a little groan as she settled her rotund frame down into the chair. “But delightful, I am sure.”

  “And it is but two days away, so we have something very fine to look forward to Aunt Belle, do we not?” Felix strode across the room to the drinks cabinet and quickly poured his aunt a rather generous helping of sherry.

  “Oh dear, I am not expected to go, am I?” Mirabelle said and reached up to take the sherry with a smile.

  “Well, you are certainly invited,” Felix began. “For the invitation is to the Allencourt family and Miss Georgina Jeffries.”

  “But I am sure that the Duke likely intends the invitation for those of the Allencourt family he met at his garden party.” Mirabelle took a dainty sip of the sh
erry.

  “Would you not like to go, Aunt Belle?”

  “I am too old to get excited about Dukes, my dear boy. Even mysterious ones.”

  “Mysterious ones, Great Aunt?” Fleur said and hastened to perch on the couch opposite Mirabelle.

  “Child, you are quite the nosiest young woman I have ever encountered,” Mirabelle said with a hearty laugh. “One little hint of gossip, and you sprint across the room as if you were a fox chasing a hen.”

  “Stop teasing, Auntie Belle,” Fleur said in such a loving and amused tone that Georgina was taken aback.

  She would never have enjoyed such an open and warm exchange with her own grandmother and wondered at the great differences that could exist between two sisters. Mirabelle really was a very different woman from her sister, Elizabeth.

  “Well, what is so mysterious about a Duke you have never met, Great-Aunt Belle?” Fleur went on undeterred.

  “I do not think the young man himself mysterious, at least I do not think he is. After all, as you rightly point out my dear, I have never met him.”

  “Then what is mysterious?” Fleur went on, and Georgina stifled a laugh as she began to imagine her cousin chasing a hen across the drawing room.

  “I think his very presence is just mysterious, my dear.”

  “His presence? Why?” Fleur continued.

  “Felix, do get your daughter a glass of sherry. It might calm her excitement a little,” Mirabelle said teasingly. “And why are you so excited about it all, Fleur? Tell me you are not hoping for a proposal already?”

  “Stop teasing me,” Fleur said brightly. “And no, I am not hoping for a proposal. Well, not one made to me, at any rate.”

  “Then my other great-niece has caught the eye of this young man, has she?” Mirabelle turned her attention on Georgina.

  She was squinting at her a little, and so Georgina moved across the drawing room to take a seat on the couch so that Mirabelle might study her more closely.

  “Perhaps Fleur is teasing you, Aunt Belle,” Georgina said warmly. “For I do not believe for a moment that the Duke has invited your family to his home on my account.”

  “And why not, young lady?” Mirabelle said and fixed her with a curiously warm scowl.

  “Well, I have seen him only three times, and I cannot think that we spoke for more than a few minutes on each occasion. Although we did play a hand of bridge.”

  “I think your modesty rather suits you, my dear.” Mirabelle was still peering at her closely. “But I am inclined to agree with the rest of the family that there is a very healthy chance that you would appeal to such a fine gentleman. You are very beautiful, of course. All women with Allencourt blood are.” She nodded vigorously. “But there is something in your character which sets you a little apart, my dear. A little self-sufficiency, perhaps?”

  “I am a little self-sufficient, Aunt Belle. After all, I have spent a good deal of time in my own company, and not just of late whilst I have been unwell.”

  “And why is that?” Mirabelle did not show any sign that she was embarrassed by her own prying.

  “Because my family lives a little out of the way, and I did not make a great number of friends as a child. I think children with brothers and sisters tend to be the recipients of invites rather more than lone children. Not that I mean to feel sorry for myself, Aunt Belle, for I do not. But I did live very quietly, and the few friends I do have are not so close to me that they have had a moment’s trouble in wiping me from their thoughts in their sudden search for husbands.”

  “I daresay that is a phenomenon which plays itself out up and down the country, my dear,” Mirabelle said and laughed heartily. “But I do not think I have heard the sentiment so very well put. Well done, Georgina.”

  “Thank you kindly, Aunt Belle,” Georgina said, thoroughly enjoying the praise which she thought the elderly lady bestowed but rarely.

  “My dear Felix, I think you will manage this little afternoon excursion very well without me. After all, you have a very lively little party to take with you, and I think that the Duke of Calder will have enough on his hands with Georgina, without her Great-Aunt Belle confusing things.”

  “As you wish,” Felix said with an indulgent laugh.

  When the time came to actually attend that afternoon engagement just two days later, Georgina felt a little nervousness that she had not been expecting. She had come to think of the Duke of Calder more than once in the intervening days and could not help harbouring a secret hope that it really had been on her account that she and her family had been invited.

  But she also thought that the addition of dear old Mirabelle Allencourt would have been a very welcome one. She was amusing in the way that elderly ladies often were, given that they were no longer trying to impress either potential suitors or their peers of middle age, and cared little what others thought of them. That sort of sporting old lady was always a great comfort in a new social setting.

  “You seem a little quiet, Georgina,” Fleur whispered into her ear as they walked arm in arm towards the huge stone steps which led into Calder Hall.

  “If I am honest, I think I am a little nervous,” Georgina said, also whispering as she carefully eyed Felix and Jeremy, who walked ahead of them.

  “I hope it is not down to me and all the silly things I said.”

  “What silly things?”

  “I ought not to have voiced my opinion that Emerson Lockhart has a liking for you. I should have thought before I spoke and not done so much to add pressure to you on such a day, my dear.”

  “You have done nothing to add pressure, Fleur. In fact, you are a comfort as always.”

  “How kind, Georgina.” Fleur squeezed her arm. “And how beautiful you look today. That gown suits you very well indeed.”

  “Thank you, Fleur. You look very beautiful too, as always.”

  Georgina had picked a gown which was neither too ostentatious nor too plain. It was in a thick dark ivory cotton with small green flowers all over it, giving the impression from afar that the gown was pale green.

  There was a wide satin band in pale green around the Empire line beneath the bust, and Fleur’s maid had curled her pale blonde hair to perfection, piling it high on her head.

  Mr Murray, the Duke’s butler, was already waiting for the small party at the top of the steps. He pulled the door open wide and held out an arm to indicate that they should enter.

  “Good afternoon, Mr Allencourt,” the butler said with some warmth. “His Grace is ready to receive you in the drawing room.”

  As they walked into the grand entrance, Georgina almost gasped. The entrance hall alone was almost as large as half her father’s house, and she could hardly believe that such places existed.

  There was an immense staircase leading up to an open first-floor landing, creating quite a gallery above them. The ceilings were extraordinarily high, and Georgina could not help looking up in wonder.

  All around the entrance hall hung great portraits of Dukes and Duchesses past, of children and their pet dogs and of the beautiful landscape of the grounds themselves. There were rich mahogany tables, each of which carried great vases of the most beautiful, vibrant flowers. There were so many that the scent was quite heady, and Georgina felt a little overwhelmed.

  A small team of maids and footmen were waiting in the entrance hall, all ready to help the party off with their cloaks and bonnets and hats. Georgina had never been received in such a fashion in all her life, and she knew that she would never forget the experience.

  “If you’ll follow me, ladies and gentlemen,” the butler said when they were all ready to move on.

  Georgina walked into the drawing room with the same sense of wonder, thinking that it must be several times the size of the drawing room back home at Ashdown Manor. Although the walls were heavily panelled in dark oak, the windows were so large and the room so big that it did not seem at all imposing, but rather light and airy.

  “Good afternoon, Mr Allencourt,” t
he Duke said, hurriedly rising to his feet and bowing to her father’s cousin. “I hope you are well.”

  “Very well, Your Grace, I thank you,” Felix said and bowed with equal depth.

  “And how nice to see you again, Master Allencourt.” The Duke smiled warmly at Jeremy who bowed and, mercifully, seemed set to behave himself for a while.

  “Miss Allencourt, are you well?” Emerson Lockhart turned his attention upon Fleur.

  “I am very well, Your Grace,” she said and bobbed neatly.

  “And Miss Jeffries,” he said with a familiarity of tone that seemed to quietly take the whole family aback. “I am still reeling from our success at the bridge tables.” He laughed and turned to Felix. “Your cousin’s daughter is a very fine player, and I am certain that I would not have won a single hand in Lady Aston’s drawing room without her assistance.”