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

by Bridget Barton

  If he picked any other young lady for his first dance of the evening, much emphasis would be placed upon it by all around him.

  “Georgie, forgive my absence,” he whispered his rush of words directly into her ear the moment he saw her, startling her entirely.

  Once again, he caught the vaguest hint of jasmine in the air and knew that he had not been mistaken.

  “Your Grace,” she said, her blue eyes wide. “You startled me.”

  “Forgive me, Miss Jeffries,” he said and looked around for any sign that he had been overheard calling her Georgie. “I have been tortured in the doorway for an hour.” He was whispering again.

  “Tortured?” she said, and the expression on her face made him laugh.

  “Everybody’s father wants an audience with me,” he said with a great sigh. “And I have not yet developed the skill with which to gently extricate myself from tedious yet forceful company.”

  “Oh, dear me,” Georgina said and laughed, although he was not entirely sure that the distraction he had perceived earlier had evaporated entirely. “Perhaps that ought to have been the first thing that your father taught you.”

  “If it had been the only thing he had taught me, I would be grateful.”

  “I suppose such great interest in you is to be expected. You are the Duke, after all,” she said, and as she looked vaguely around the ballroom, he thought he detected an uneasiness in her manner.

  “I suppose so,” he said with a shrug. “But will you dance with me? For my first dance, I mean.”

  “Yes, of course,” she said and smiled at him.

  “For you can only imagine how I would have to duck and weave the advances of the father of any other young lady I choose to dance with first.”

  “Quite.” And with that, her smile disappeared altogether.

  “Forgive me, Georgie.” He was whispering again. “I had not meant my request to sound so very self-serving. It really would be my pleasure, I assure you.”

  “Really, there is no offence,” she said and gave him the sort of smile which suggested that she really was offended but was trying her very best to hide it.

  “I would not hurt your feelings for a kingdom.”

  “And you have not, so it is a good thing.” Once again, he was not convinced.

  No young lady, he supposed, would be pleased to be asked to dance under such circumstances. No young lady would be pleased to be nothing more than his saviour from the intentions of all the other ladies and their desperate fathers. It was hardly flattering, and yet his own meaning could not have been further from his words.

  He had blundered, that was for certain, but Emerson was certain that Georgina could only be offended as any other young lady would be offended in the circumstances. He could not begin to imagine for a moment that she harboured any of the feelings for him that he had come to experience for her.

  After all, why would she? She knew what he was. She knew, as all the others did not, that he was no better than a servant. And despite their great friendship of childhood, Emerson did not fool himself that the two of them would have grown up and retained that friendship if he had simply remained a servant at Ashdown Manor.

  As Georgina Jeffries had grown into a young woman, she would have easily seen the great differences between them. Differences that she perhaps did not quite imagine now, although he was sure that the thought would be in there somewhere.

  If he had still been a servant in her father’s employee, Georgina would likely have grown to despise him a little. Perhaps not despise the man himself, but rather his station in life. It was the way of things.

  Of course, things were different now; he was the Duke of Calder. And yet he could not help feeling that he perhaps was not the man he thought he was. His whole life had been a lie, even when he had been a child and had known no different, it had been a lie nonetheless.

  How could he trust that he truly was the rightful Duke? In the end, he could not say for certain that he was not merely the orphan that Baroness Elizabeth Jeffries had claimed him to be, the child for whom there was no room at the Hatfield orphanage, the child she had reluctantly agreed to shelter as one of her own servants.

  If their investigations brought them hard up against that one potential, then Georgina would know it. Even if they kept it all quiet, and he retained his title, still she would know it. Would she despise him then as she would surely have done had he never left Ashdown Manor? Perhaps; perhaps not.

  Emerson knew that he would have to keep his feelings lashed down now. At the very least, he needed to know who he was before he thought about what else life might have to offer him.

  He could not risk telling Georgina of his feelings now only to offend her and lose her friendship. For with any loss of friendship would be an accompanying loss of assistance. He could not do this without her; without Georgina, he would never know who he was.

  As he stared out across the immense and brightly lit ballroom, his gaze settling upon one of the countless twinkling chandeliers, Emerson knew that his own identity must come first. He could not take another step in life without knowing.

  He could not declare his feelings for Georgina or any other young lady for that matter. He would not rest easy until he had the certain knowledge that he truly did have every right to offer them the title of Duchess, not to mention his undying love.

  In the event, he danced the first two with Georgina, much to the disappointment of many a young lady in the ballroom. But if they had studied Georgina as he had, they might not have been quite so disappointed, for she looked as if she had hardly enjoyed a minute of it.

  He had tried to maintain some small conversation with her as they danced but had never found dancing and talking particularly easy, especially with a dance where the couples were so regularly separated in their steps.

  Of course, the moment he had finished dancing with Georgina, he felt the great weight of expectation from the entire room that he should divide the rest of his time amongst the remainder of the young ladies.

  Georgina, for her part, hardly seemed to notice how many people took a greater interest in her now that she had danced the Duke’s first two dances with him. Many eyes were on her now and all of them full of curiosity.

  Over the course of the dancing, he lost sight of her several times and knew that he could not look for her without causing great offence to whichever dancing partner he had.

  Emerson very quickly realized that hosting a ball was a most exasperating affair when a man had one person in particular with whom he wished to converse. As the host, he knew now that that was not going to be possible.

  He also knew that he had offended Georgina, and his agitation grew and grew as he searched for some way to spend at least a few minutes with her so that he might apologize.

  When the evening was beginning to draw to a close, and he was finally free from more dance partners than he had ever imagined possible, he darted over to Felix Allencourt’s party. It was with some dismay that he noted Georgina’s absence, and he surreptitiously looked this way and that in fear of seeing her fully engrossed in another’s company. And who could blame her?

  “Your Grace, Georgina is just taking a little air,” Fleur Allencourt said in a whisper and raised her eyebrows significantly.

  “Oh, I see.” He smiled awkwardly, immediately realizing he was the subject of her scrutiny.

  Fleur Allencourt was quiet and shy, but that certainly did not mean that she was not also wise and shrewd. She had seen his desperate look and judged it correctly for what it was.

  “I think she went out through the morning room,” Fleur continued with her eyebrows rising higher and higher as she spoke.

  Without another word to him, she managed to expertly engage her father and brother in a conversation so instantly enthralling that he was able to slip away without their notice. What a very fine ally Fleur Allencourt could be to a person.

  As he hurriedly strode out through the ballroom, Emerson was careful not to mak
e firm eye contact with any of his guests, lest they see it as an opportunity, nay an invitation, to embark upon some lengthy conversation that he simply did not want. He wanted only to be out of the hall and in Georgie’s company.

  Emerson darted into the morning room, pleased that he could see by the light of the moon without having to search for a candle and matches. Just as he had pushed the door closed behind him, he realized that Georgina was making her way back in through the French window from outside. The moment she realized she was not alone, Georgina shrieked.

  “No, no!” he said hurrying towards her. “It is only me. It is Sammy,” he said and laughed.

  “Goodness me, you nearly scared me out of my wits,” she said and slapped his upper arm quite hard.

  “Ouch,” he said and rubbed at the smarting flesh by instinct.

  “Oh, forgive me,” she said and raised both hands to her mouth. “Goodness me, I did not mean to do that.” He could see her shoulders shaking in the darkness and realized that she was laughing.

  He began to laugh too; amusement mixed with the greatest relief that she did not hold any of the offence that had so marred their dancing.

  She had merely struck out at him in the same way she would have done when they were children. That thoughtless call to action that a child could not control but a fine young lady ought to.

  “Well, that has brought back a flood of memories,” he said through his laughter. “I can only think that you have struck me in just such a way many, many times before.”

  “Perhaps I have,” She replied and touched a gloved finger to the corner of her eye to dash away a tear of mirth. “Perhaps that was why it came so naturally.”

  “Still, I am sorry to have frightened you so.”

  “Yes, you did rather,” she said, her breathing and speech beginning to settle once again. “But what on earth were you doing creeping around in the dark like that?”

  “I was in search of you, Georgie,” he said and took a step towards her.

  For a moment, he was in the grip of an irresistible urge to take her into his arms and kiss her. His relief that their friendship was not destroyed was so great that he was very nearly carried away on a great wave of thoughtless irresponsibility. It was an irresponsibility that he only shook himself out of at the last possible moment.

  “I see,” she said in a hoarse whisper.

  “Georgie, I had wanted to apologize. I know that I offended you earlier, and there is nothing that you can say, no objection that you might make, which will persuade me otherwise. But I am sorry, for I did not mean it quite as it sounded. I would have asked you to dance with me anyway, with or without my need of a saviour from so many interested ladies.”

  “So many?” Georgina said, and it was clear from her tone that she was teasing him.

  “Yes, absolutely hordes of them,” he said and gave a comically exaggerated shrug. “Too many to count really.”

  “Be careful I do not strike you on the arm again, Samuel White.” She laughed before becoming quite serious. “But I am sorry that I took offence as easily as I did. I do not know what came over me this evening, but I should have known by instinct and experience that you would have intended no such offence. There are so many very beautiful young ladies here this evening that I find myself perhaps a little envious. I realize that I have not paid such great attention to my own appearance and find that it has made me a little conscious and sensitive. Forgive me.”

  “You did not need to spend a moment longer on your appearance, Georgie,”he said and realized that he was getting dangerously close to making some admission or other; the sort of admission that he knew he must not yet make.

  “Thank you, Sammy. You are very kind.”

  “I should not like to lose you. Not again.”

  “You shall not lose me, Sammy,” she said, and he could almost feel her relaxing. “Especially not now when we have a great many plans to make.”

  “Plans?”

  “Yes, we must come up with some scheme to get us to Cornwall, Sammy. I have thought about the thing over and over again, and there is nothing else for it. We really must speak to Beatrice Ellington.”

  “Yes, but how to do it, that is the thing,” he said and was surprised by his amusing tone.

  They had settled back down again, overcoming whatever little obstacle had just arisen between them. Things were different, but only a little, and he realized that they could continue much as before.

  And he knew that she had sensed it as much as he had, for she was suddenly intent to bring them back to their ordinary footing.

  And for himself, he was glad that they were back to themselves. He did not want to risk losing her again, even if it meant he never truly told her how he was feeling.

  Chapter 20

  After a great deal of teasing from Jeremy, Georgina and Fleur finally climbed into the carriage to make their way over to Calder Hall for afternoon tea. It had been three days since the summer ball, and the Duke had made his invitation to Georgina and Fleur by messenger.

  Having invited both young ladies, it was quite natural and acceptable that he had not invited the rest of the family. By implication, it was to be a much less formal affair than their last afternoon at Calder had been; simply a meeting of young people.

  Of course, Felix Allencourt would no doubt suspect that the Duke had an interest in Georgina. After all, it would seem to be the only explanation. And the fact that Fleur had been invited as an acceptable chaperone to her cousin was also quite natural.

  Despite the fact that these were not precisely the circumstances, that particular narrative seemed to sit well with all involved.

  “I must admit that I feel a little nervous, Georgina,” Fleur said when their carriage drew up outside Calder Hall.

  “Nervous? But why?”

  “Because I have not really spent a good deal of time in conversation with the Duke. I am usually hiding out in the haberdashery or the tea room, all the while pretending that I do not know anything about his circumstances. But now, especially if we are to be only a party of three, my knowledge can hardly be politely disregarded, can it?” She paused for a moment and took a great steadying breath. “I suppose I just feel a little bit embarrassed, that is all.”

  “I see what you mean,” Georgina said when they had both been helped down from the carriage. She laced her arm through her cousin’s. “Just remember, Sammy will probably be feeling exactly the same way. And you are both of such wonderfully pleasant and amenable natures that you will undoubtedly put each other at ease almost immediately.” Georgina laughed and led Fleur up the great stone steps.

  “Good afternoon, Miss Jeffries.” Mr Murray, the butler, smiled warmly. “And good afternoon, Miss Allencourt.”

  “Good afternoon,” both young women chorused in unison.

  “His Grace is in the drawing room already if you will follow me.”

  As the three of them waited for tea to be served, they talked superficially of the ball and the weather and the propensity for gardeners to be extraordinarily territorial. It was as if they hung in stasis as they waited for a clear opportunity to speak openly, the three of them all together for the first time.

  Finally, Georgina began to feel a little nervous herself, wondering how her cousin and her old friend would manage. Still, she need not have bothered, for they quickly settled into an easy way as soon as the maid had finished with the tea and left them alone.

  “I must first thank you, Miss Allencourt, for your continued discretion in the matter of my complicated origin,” Emerson said with a warm smile. “I cannot tell you how greatly I appreciate it.”

  “And you may be assured of my discretion, Your Grace, forevermore,” Fleur responded shyly.

  “But now we three must put our heads together and put the finer points on a little plan I have for getting us to Cornwall without causing too much of a stir,” Emerson went on.

  Georgina remained silent for a few moments, hoping that such a silence would encoura
ge further conversation between Fleur and Emerson.

  “You have a plan worked out already, Your Grace?” Fleur’s customary excitement was back, and Georgina could have exclaimed in relief. “I say, that is very clever of you. But what is it? What is your plan?” As Fleur sat forward in her seat, Georgina entirely recognized the motion.

  Fleur had instantly forgotten her embarrassment and misgivings and had chosen to chase her naturally inquisitive nature instead. The Duke had a tale to tell, and Fleur Allencourt was certainly all ears.

  “Well, I have recently swapped a little correspondence with the current Earl of Wighton,” Emerson began, and both young women looked at him with great interest. “I had meant to tell you at the ball that I had written off to him, but there never seemed to be an opportunity.” He gave Georgina a rueful smile which she secretly returned.