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

by Bridget Barton

  “But what did you write? Surely you did not give the whole thing away?” Fleur went on, any hint of nervousness now entirely evaporated.

  “I did not give away anything of my own circumstances, Miss Allencourt, but I did give away a little of Georgina’s connection to the Dowager Countess.” He turned to look at Georgina. “I hope you do not mind.”

  “No, not in the least,” Georgina said and shook her head vigorously, keen to hear the rest.

  If she was honest, Georgina felt curiously excited. The idea that she might have the chance to speak with Beatrice and find out a little more had her in its grip, although she could not help feeling it perhaps a little indecent. After all, it was not a game; Sammy needed to know who he was.

  And yet, however she tried to chastise herself, Georgina could not deny her high spirits.

  “As I said before, my new attorney has done sterling work in researching the residents of Wighton Hall in Cornwall. The current Earl of Wighton is Oscar Montgomery, the nephew of the previous Earl. Oscar is a man approaching fifty who has been the Earl these last twenty-five years since Beatrice’s husband passed away. Beatrice is still in residence, but not in the dower house. She lives in the main hall, so I can only assume that her health is failing.”

  “Good heavens, your attorney is good. How on earth has he managed to find out that Beatrice resides in the hall itself?” Georgina said in admiring tones.

  “Oh, no. I found that out,” Emerson said with such a bright and beaming smile of pride that Georgina laughed. “Well, I did!” he went on.

  “Forgive me, you just reminded me of the boy for a moment instead of the man.” Georgina continued to laugh.

  “Well, I know this is an exercise in discovering who I truly am and is therefore somewhat solemn, but it is also a little exciting, is it not?”

  “I suppose it is. And I am glad that you see it that way.” Georgina studied him carefully, marvelling at how his feelings and curious excitement had mirrored her own.

  They really did seem to be as in tune as adults as they had been as children. There were differences, of course, not least of them being the curious sensation of falling backward through the air every time she looked into his green eyes or imagined reaching out to touch his silvery brown hair.

  “How did you find out about it all then, Your Grace?” Fleur said, keen to get to the nuts and bolts of it all.

  “The Earl of Wighton put it all in his letter to me. To be honest, it was not something that I asked, he just gave the information freely. Anyway, I wrote to him to explain that a dear friend of mine, who lost a most beloved grandmother some years ago, has lately discovered the existence of her grandmother’s best friend, Beatrice, and would be very keen to meet her.”

  “A most beloved grandmother?” Georgina said with a rueful smile and raised her eyebrows.

  “Yes, I know it was something of a stretch, Georgie.”

  “An incredible stretch.” She laughed. “But I am bound to say an inspired one. So, are we to take it that the current Earl of Wighton would not be averse to a visit?”

  “Fortunately, he would seem to be the sort of man whose esteem would ride high forevermore for having had a Duke stay in his residence.” Emerson shrugged and then leaned his head against the high-back of the armchair.

  “Oh dear,” Georgina said uncertainly.

  “But fortunately, he is a man who has only sons, so that is something.” As Emerson spoke quite seriously, Georgina allowed herself an inward sigh of relief.

  For an awful moment, she had thought she would make it all the way to Cornwall only to have to suffer the same feelings she had felt at the summer ball. She knew it was silly, of course. She had felt as relieved as Emerson when they had silently agreed to put it all behind them.

  But it was still there, the idea that he was a young, handsome Duke, a man in demand who could marry anybody he chose.

  “So, he has extended an invite, Your Grace?” Fleur said, her little nose twitching like a rabbit.

  Georgina immediately realized that Fleur was keen to get to the part where she discovered whether or not she was to be in the party. Georgina truly hoped she was, for she distinctly remembered promising her that very thing.

  “Yes, he has,” Emerson said with his broad and handsome smile evident once more. “For an entire week.”

  “An entire week?” Georgina said with surprise.

  “Yes, a week which will, unfortunately, culminate in two very tedious social engagements undoubtedly designed to show off the Earl’s new acquaintance.”

  “There, see? Sooner or later the title of Duke was bound to come in handy, Sammy.”

  “Very funny.” He returned her mischievous smile with one of his own, his green eyes staring into hers in a way which made her feel lightheaded.

  “And we will get to speak to Beatrice?”

  “Yes, in fits and starts, I believe,” he continued as he leaned forward in his chair and reached out to touch the side of the teapot with the back of his hand. “Cold,” he said and rose to his feet to cross the room and pull the bell rope for another tea tray.

  “In fits and starts?”

  “From what I can make out, the Dowager Countess’ health is such that only short visits are advisable.”

  “Oh, I see.” Georgina could not help hoping that the Dowager Countess, a woman she now began to suspect was very frail, would at least cling onto life for long enough that they might get some useful truths from her.

  She knew it was not a particularly charitable thought, but every time she thought of Beatrice Ellington, or Beatrice Montgomery as she now was, she could not help thinking of David, the brother she had helped to betray.

  “Well, I suppose now all that remains is for us to come up with some reason for going to Cornwall that would be suitable for my father,” Fleur said and winced. “For if he is not satisfied with the explanation, there is a very good chance we will not be going at all.”

  “Fear not, Miss Allencourt. I have a plan.”

  Chapter 21

  By the time the Duke had arrived at Winton House, and they were all settled in the drawing room drinking tea, still, Georgina’s nerves had not improved. She had felt them most dreadfully all morning as she wondered if the whole thing really would go to plan just as Sammy said it would.

  For one thing, Felix Allencourt was nobody’s fool. If he suspected any untruths in the account that Emerson Lockhart gave him, he would not allow Georgina and Fleur to accompany him to Cornwall, Duke or not.

  Still, that particular Duke had come up with a plan, one which would seem to soften the blow and add a certain legitimacy to the excursion. And not only legitimacy but most appropriate chaperone.

  It was clear to Georgina that Fleur had suffered a similar bout of nerves, given that she had spent the entire morning preparing the drawing room for the Duke’s arrival.

  Of course, to all present, that would have looked quite natural. After all, whilst the Allencourt family had attended Calder Hall for tea, the Duke himself had never come to Winton House. The fact that Fleur flew around the room with her perpetual straightening and setting out of vases of flowers that she had picked from the garden without once seeking the gardener’s approval, looked to all but Georgina to be nothing more than commonplace excitement.

  But Georgina knew that her cousin was not nervously trying to impress the Duke of Calder with vases of hastily cut roses. Fleur had merely been looking for an outlet for her nervous excitement. She really did wear her heart on her sleeve as Great Aunt Belle had said, and Georgina silently prayed that Fleur would do nothing to give them away.

  And at least Great Aunt Belle would not be there for the afternoon since she was having afternoon tea with Lady Maud Aston in Rowley. That really was a great mercy, for Mirabelle was no fool either.

  She would only need to hear the name of the Earl of Wighton to realize that their interest in Beatrice Ellington still persisted. Whilst that was not a great problem in itself, that sha
rp and shrewd old lady would finally realize that there was a further connection in this little conundrum, a connection that led to the Duke of Calder. Perhaps she would not be quite so keen to leave things be as she had before. Perhaps she would not be quite so keen to help without questioning, to keep quiet and not make trouble for them.

  Of course, it was very likely that Mirabelle Allencourt would easily find the thing out over the next few days, especially if Felix allowed them to go. But at least the Duke would not be there in the room when she discovered it, and Georgina decided that she would simply have to address the matter as and when it arose.

  As the Duke began to relay his well-rehearsed little speech about his acquaintance, the Earl of Wighton, and his invite to the Duke and any party he wished to bring with him, Georgina could hardly look at him.

  But she knew she must, for to not do so would draw a very different kind of attention and perhaps even a little suspicion from her father’s cousin. Felix, for his part, simply leaned back in his chair with his cup and saucer suspended mid-air as he listened with interest. He certainly showed no signs of suspicion, although Georgina knew that that was not necessarily a sign that he did not harbour any.

  “So, it is something of a grand party?” Felix asked with interest.

  “Yes, the Earl has two sons a little older than me, and they have a great many friends who will be in attendance. There will be others from the county, of course, but since his invitation extends to a party of my own choosing, I thought of your family, Sir.”

  “Indeed.” Felix nodded slowly as he digested the information.

  “I thought perhaps it might be a jollier party than if I simply wrote off to an old school friend or two to invite them, you see.” Georgina realized that Sammy’s delivery was so good because it was largely the truth.

  He had not merely given the impression that he did not have appropriate friends to ask for the sake of their little mission; the truth of the matter was that Emerson Lockhart did not have close friends.

  “And I daresay it is a little short notice to write off to your old friends and get a response in time,” Felix said and nodded sagely.

  “Quite so, so I wondered if your son and daughter and Miss Jeffries might enjoy such an excursion.”

  At the mention of himself, Jeremy Allencourt sat up a little straighter and began to take better notice. He looked across at Georgina and narrowed his eyes as if he suspected something that he could not quite put his finger on. And yet he did not look at all perturbed by it, but rather excited.

  The Duke, Fleur, and Georgina had discussed the thing at length over tea at Calder Hall, and in the end, it had been decided that to ask Jeremy would be the surest way to get Felix to agree to it all. It had been Emerson’s idea, an idea which Georgina had initially opposed.

  But Emerson had quickly persuaded her that there was no other way. He realized that there was a great chance that he would have to do some explaining to the smart, intelligent young man, but he assured them both that it was a risk he was willing to take.

  And Fleur, who knew Jeremy better than anybody, easily assured them that, as silly as he could sometimes be, Jeremy was the sort of young man who would take somebody else’s secret to the grave.

  “Well, I must say that it is very kind of you to think of the young people of Winton House, Your Grace. I am sure that they are all champing at the bit for me to agree to it all, so I will quickly put them out of their misery,” Felix said and looked from Jeremy to Fleur to Georgina and back again. “I hope that you will all have a wonderful time,” he said, and his decision was made.

  “Then that is settled, Mr Allencourt. I shall write back to Lord Wighton tomorrow morning and accept his invitation. I will make all the arrangements for travel, and we shall take the largest of my carriages for the journey.”

  Georgina felt her spirits soar when she realized that the very thing she had hoped for would come to pass. Within a week, they would be making their way to Cornwall and Beatrice and perhaps one or two answers. It was beginning to become as important to Georgina to find out who Sammy really was as it was to Sammy himself.

  Surreptitiously, Georgina allowed her eyes to stray to Fleur. A certain amount of excitement would be expected, of course, but this was one of those moments when Fleur might easily give herself away, as well as Georgina.

  However, Fleur sat neatly in her chair with her hands in her lap and a demure expression on her face. Georgina almost laughed when she thought of what it must be costing her cousin to sit still and say nothing at that moment.

  “I wonder if Miss Jeffries would care to show me your grounds and gardens, Mr Allencourt?” the Duke said, and Georgina suddenly focused.

  “Georgina?” Felix turned to look at her.

  “Yes, of course,” she said and rose to her feet.

  As she made to leave the room, she caught Jeremy’s eye. He smiled at her warmly, but there was something of a knowing look, a silent teasing. As subtle as it was, Georgina felt her cheeks warm as they blushed, and she found herself scurrying out of the drawing room.

  Of course, Felix would also be thinking much the same. The Duke had paid her enough attention in the last weeks that anybody would easily assume that such interest was purely romantic.

  He had joined her to listen to the musicians in the assembly rooms, he had invited her family for afternoon tea, he had danced with her twice at his own ball, and now he was inviting her and her cousins to join him on a trip to Cornwall. Of course, her father’s cousin would think his interest romantic, who would not?

  “Well, what do you think?” he said the moment they were alone outside.

  “I think you did it very well indeed,” Georgina said and then pointed around the side of the house. “Let us take that path to the camellias.”

  “Very well,” he replied and held his arm out for her to take in a habit that was becoming most natural.

  “I am certain that Fleur is right, and Jeremy will not let you down, Sammy.”

  “I am equally certain, Georgie. If he is anything like his sister, then I do not have a moment’s worry.”

  “But I am bound to say that it is a case of when you will have to tell him something and not if,” she went on as they walked slowly along a rambling path surrounded by tall lupins and foxgloves.

  Every time she closed her eyes, Georgina could detect the scent of stocks. She was not entirely sure where they were but knew they must be there somewhere in amongst the foxgloves. It was such a sweet smell, and it suited the warmth of the summer afternoon perfectly.

  “Yes, it is clear that he is a very intelligent man, so I am ready to give him an explanation.”

  “But is this not becoming everything that you feared? First, I discover you, and Fleur is aware, and now Jeremy will know everything. Not to mention the fact that Great Aunt Belle, whose suspicions are already heightened, will undoubtedly discover that we are to attend the home of Lord Wighton and realize some connection to Beatrice.”

  “I suppose it really is everything that I had dreaded for so long. But now I must know, you see. Now that things are moving in a direction I had never dared to dream of, I could not go back. Georgina, I do not want to live a lie for the rest of my life. Or if I am to live a lie of sorts, at least I must know what the actual truth is.”

  They walked in silence towards the dense trellis-work covered in camellias. Georgina held tightly to his muscular arm, and the moment they stopped to admire the camellias, she leaned her head on his shoulder.

  “I suppose everybody thinks that your attention is simply a means of courting me,” Georgina said and hoped that her cheeks were not blushing again.

  “Yes, I suppose that is the natural assumption,” he said and turned to face her. “And I suppose it works very well in our favour, for it is an explanation of sorts that allows us to spend valuable time together.”

  “Yes, I suppose so,” Georgina said quietly and experienced the same dull sensation she had felt when he had asked her t
o dance with him so that he might be spared dancing with the young ladies.

  “But I cannot help wishing that …” he began and then halted abruptly.

  “Wish that what?” Georgina said, keen not to let him slip away.

  She was certain that he was on the verge of telling her something, and she did not want to let it go. Whatever it was, she wanted to hear it, and she wanted to hear it now.

  “Oh, nothing. Really, it is of little matter.” He tried to speak dismissively, but Georgina could see clean through it.

  “I cannot help thinking that it is not of little matter, Sammy. Whatever it is, I wish you would say it.”