The Art 0f Pleasuring A Duke (Steamy Historical Regency Romance)

by Scarlett Osborne

  Nathaniel chuckled at this and said, “I enjoyed it quite a bit, though perhaps you would not have found it so exciting, Perkins.”

  “Oh no, Your Grace?”

  “Well, compared to your evenings in the village pub, I imagine a reception at the ballet would seem rather a dull affair,” Nathaniel said.

  “I don’t know about that, Your Grace,” Perkins said with a chuckle. “I can see from your manner that you enjoyed your evening far more than I did. I must admit that the village pub has become rather boring of late.”

  “Hmm…” Nathaniel said. He was never entirely certain whether Perkins was joking about the exploits he got up to at the pub, but he enjoyed the stories all the same. “Well, that is disappointing to hear. But you are quite right to suppose that I enjoyed my evening very much.”

  “I am glad to hear that, Your Grace,” Perkins said. He looked eager to hear more about the party, but did not ask for details. Doing so would have been quite inappropriate for a valet. Perkins was friendly and inclined to joke with his employer, but he would never go so far as that.

  Perhaps it would have been wiser to leave off the conversation there, and Nathaniel considered saying nothing more. In the end, his excitement got the better of him and he soon found himself telling his valet about Miss Conolly, and the dance they had shared.

  “That sounds quite grand, Your Grace,” Perkins said, as he adjusted Nathaniel’s cravat.

  “Yes,” Nathaniel said, his voice sounding so dreamy that he caught himself off guard. “Miss Conolly is the friend upon whom I will be calling this afternoon.”

  “Oh,” Perkins said, sounding surprised. “Well, I hope that you will have a very pleasant visit with Miss Conolly.”

  “Thank you, Perkins, I certainly hope so,” Nathaniel said, smiling at his reflection in the looking glass.

  “No doubt she will be quite pleased to see you.”

  “Well, I certainly hope that she will be,” Nathaniel said, his smile faltering slightly, “but I did tell her of my plans to call upon her, so I doubt that it will come as a surprise when I arrive.”

  “Perhaps not, Your Grace,” Perkins said, his voice sounding serious now, “but I expect that she is not used to receiving callers of your social class.”

  “No, I suppose she is not,” Nathaniel said, though he could not understand why this should matter.

  “So I suppose it will be quite exciting for her when you do call on her…” Perkins said, with a slight smirk that made Nathaniel laugh.

  By the time he was fully dressed, Nathaniel was feeling quite confident that his visit to Miss Conolly would be well received. He only hoped that her company would prove as enjoyable today as it had been the previous evening.

  Nathaniel walked down the stairs at a leisurely pace, mentally preparing himself to face his mother after the harsh words they had spoken to one another the previous night. However, even the memory of their argument could not offset the pleasant mood in which he now found himself.

  When he entered the dining room, Nathaniel found the Dowager Duchess already seated at the dining table, sipping a cup of tea.

  “Good morning, Mother,” he said, trying to act as though nothing had happened the night before.

  “Good morning, Nathaniel,” his mother replied, her tone rather stiffer than usual.

  Nathaniel sat down at the table and waited for one of the servants to bring him tea and his morning newspaper. The silence between himself and his mother was resounding. He no longer felt anxious about the possibility of an argument with his mother, but Nathaniel still hated the uncomfortable quiet that seemed to be settling over them.

  “Do you have any plans today, Mother?” Nathaniel asked. He felt that he could not bear to leave the silence unbroken any longer, and he hoped, for once, that his mother would shower him with extraneous details about whatever it was she planned to do that day.

  “No,” the Dowager Duchess replied, quietly. “I have no particular plans today. And you?”

  “I intend to call upon a friend, here in London, later today.”

  “A friend?” his mother replied, giving him a searching look. When Nathaniel did not offer any additional information, his mother continued, “Would you, by any chance, be planning to visit the ballerina with whom you were talking at the party last night?”

  “The prima ballerina is called Miss Conolly,” Nathaniel said, feeling frustrated that his mother did not use her name, when he knew perfectly well that she knew it.

  “Yes, Miss Conolly, of course,” the Dowager Duchess said. “Is that the person upon whom you are planning to call?”

  “Yes,” Nathaniel said, carefully keeping his tone of voice neutral.

  “I see,” his mother said, pursing her lips tightly for a moment before continuing.

  “Nathaniel,” she said, with a deep sigh, as though she were steeling herself to do sometime rather unpleasant. “I’m afraid that I owe you a bit of an apology after last night.”

  Nathaniel was desperate to hear what his mother might have to say on this subject. On the other hand, knowing his mother, he expected that anything she might say at this juncture was unlikely to be genuine. He had no illusions with regards to his mother’s sense of morality, and he felt sure that whatever she said next would be carefully calculated to ensure that Nathaniel do the best thing for preserving his family’s legacy.

  And so, bearing all of this in mind, Nathaniel said nothing in response to this declaration from his mother. He simply looked at her, quizzically, and waited for her to continue what she was saying.

  The Dowager Duchess sighed deeply, as though she were disappointed, but not really surprised by her son’s response to her statement.

  “I was surprised to learn that you had taken such a liking to Miss Conolly,” Nathaniel’s mother said, gazing fixedly at him as she spoke. “I reacted poorly, and I apologize for the things that I said to you last night.”

  Nathaniel looked at her curiously for several seconds before responding to this. He could hardly believe his ears. His mother almost never admitted that she was wrong about anything, but most especially not about matters of etiquette and courtship.

  Reflexively, Nathaniel almost said that he, too, was sorry for the things that he had said during their argument. However, he was not sorry for the things that he had said, and he was not sorry that he would be calling upon Miss Conolly later that same day. So instead, he simply said, “Thank you, Mother, that is very kind of you to say.”

  His mother looked at him expectantly for a moment.

  No doubt she expects me to return her apology in kind, but I have done nothing requiring an apology.

  Although Nathaniel was confident in his rightness, it was surprisingly difficult not to say something to appease his mother while she was staring at him like that. To save himself the temptation of speaking, he took a large bite of the toast that a footman had just placed before him.

  “I hope that you will accept my apology,” his mother continued after a moment, “and that we can move forward from this?”

  “Of course, Mother,” Nathaniel said, his voice and his attitude both softening toward her almost instantaneously.

  She is alone in this world, since Father died. I must be gentle with her, though she seems strong.

  “I do not wish for there to be conflict between us. But I must inform you that I intend to call upon Miss Conolly today, and you will not convince me to change my mind on this matter.”

  The Dowager Duchess closed her eyes for a second and sighed before responding. Nathaniel braced himself for her response to his declaration, feeling quite certain that he would not like anything that she had to say on the matter.

  “Nathaniel, it is clear to me that I cannot change your mind on this matter,” his mother said in a small voice.

  “That is true,” Nathaniel replied, simply.

  “Then, please just let me say this,” she continued.

  “All right, what is it, Mother?”


  “I have only ever had your best interest in mind, as I am hope you know,” she said, her voice sounding firmer now. “Perhaps you think that I am overbearing, or I meddle too much in your affairs. But if that is true, it is simply a product of my desire to help and protect you.”

  “I know, Mother,” Nathaniel said quietly, “and I appreciate that you want to protect me, but I am a Duke now.”

  “You are,” the Dowager Duchess said, with a small sniff. These small sniffs were the closest thing to emotion that the Dowager Duchess ever showed, and Nathaniel knew that she must be quite worried about him. He looked searchingly at her as she continued.

  “You are a Duke now, and I must accept that you can make your own choices, whether or not I approve of them. I simply beg that you consider my advice from time to time,” she said, imploringly. “I will not try to force your hand, but I do believe that my advice is worth considering. I am not entirely useless, after all.”

  Nathaniel looked at his mother with a mixture of frustration and affection. He knew that she was speaking truthfully now, and he appreciated her concern, even if he did not believe that it was warranted.

  “I know that, Mother,” he said, smiling at her kindly. “I could never think of you as useless—not at all.”

  “Thank you, Nathaniel. You are very kind to a foolish old lady.”

  “What do you mean, Mother?” Nathaniel asked, grinning at her. “There are no foolish old ladies present at the moment. Unless you have invited someone to join us for breakfast? Please tell me that the Countess of Shiring will not be joining us.”

  The Dowager Duchess had been obliged to maintain a friendly relationship with the Countess of Shiring for as long as Nathaniel could remember. Her husband, the Earl, had been a friend and political ally of Nathaniel’s father, but the Dowager Duchess had never liked the Countess, finding her to be dull and foolish.

  “Oh, Nathaniel,” his mother said, clearly fighting to hold back laughter. “You are a wicked gentleman. Poor Lady Shiring cannot help that she is a bit of a fool. I’m sure that she has many fine qualities.”

  “Hmm…” Nathaniel said, “I suppose you are right. Likely she is just too modest to show them.”

  His mother laughed at this, covering her mouth with her hand, and Nathaniel smiled to see her looking so happy and amused. He harbored no ill feelings toward the Countess of Shiring, but he felt too relieved at ending the tension between himself and his mother to feel sorry for poking fun at her.

  Chapter 20

  Anna had not slept much after her evening with the Duke of Yanborough. She had been quite tired when she returned home to the boarding house, and then she had sat up talking with Mrs. Hughes. Still, when she had laid down in her bed, expecting to fall asleep immediately, she had found that her eyes seemed unable to remain closed.

  She supposed that she must have slept for at least some time, because she woke up in her bed with the bedclothes tangled around her, as though she had been tossing and turning all night long. Anna immediately felt agitated and began to chew on her bottom lip—a bad habit that her mother had never been able to break her of.

  The light peeking in at the edge of the curtains was quite bright, and when she opened them, she saw that the sun was high in the sky.

  I do not think I have ever slept so late as this. Perhaps I am fit to be visited by a Duke after all, since I seem to be keeping the same hours as the ton.

  Anna got out of bed, shivering as her bare feet touched the cold floor. She crossed the room to the washstand and splashed some water from the basin on her face. The water was freezing and she gasped as it touched her skin, but it served its purpose of pulling her out of her dazed state.

  She ought to get dressed as quickly as possible to ward off the chilly air, but Anna soon realized that she had no idea what she ought to wear in case the Duke of Yanborough should call upon her. Hastily she put on her warmest petticoat and woolen hose to keep herself warm, but looking at her dresses hanging in the wardrobe she found herself stumped.

  Her most beautiful gown was the moss green velvet she had worn to the party the night before. She was sorely tempted to put it back on, but the Duke had already seen her in that gown, and anyway, it was far too formal for afternoon tea. She had two other expensive gowns, but those were also meant for fancy evening affairs, and she only ever wore them to meet with patrons in the salon after performances.

  In addition to those, she had two everyday gowns—one of gray wool, and one of brown. Both were well-worn, but Anna hoped that this was not too obvious at a glance.

  Anna’s mother had been a seamstress, and had taught her daughter those skills. And when she had first come to London, Anna had been obliged to make and repair her own costumes for the ballet.

  She no longer had to make her own costumes—as the prima ballerina, Mr. Bamber had insisted that she allow him to hire a seamstress for the purpose. However, she still had skill with a needle and thread, so her dresses were well maintained, even if they were quite plain.

  Anna stared into her wardrobe for several minutes, unsure of what she ought to do. She would feel quite foolish wearing a party gown in the afternoon.

  No doubt the Duke would think me overeager, or perhaps quite a simpleton to think such a thing would be appropriate.

  On the other hand, wearing a gown of drab, rough-spun material, with no accent or ornament, might be perceived as a mark of disrespect. Surely a Duke would expect those he called upon to dress up for such an occasion.

  And, if I am being perfectly honest with myself, I want to look as beautiful as possible when he comes to call. If he comes to call.

  For the first time that morning, Anna truly considered the possibility that the Duke might not come. She had always known that he might not, but she had not thought much about what that might mean. He had seemed eager to see her again when they spoke last night.

  But what if that was only the champagne talking? What if he woke up this morning and realized he had made a ridiculous mistake?

  The more Anna thought about this possibility, the more likely she thought it was. Her confusion about what to wear only highlighted the fact that a Duke calling upon a ballerina in a boarding house was not a normal occurrence. She felt sure that the Duke of Yanborough would come to the same conclusion by the light of day.

  Anna tried desperately to convince herself that it would actually be for the best if the Duke did not call upon her. She had told him that she would not consent to be his mistress, and he had seemed to understand this at the time, but they had both had quite a bit of champagne, and perhaps he would not remember this part of their conversation.

  If the Duke were to come calling, Anna felt sure that it could only be in hopes of an illicit connection with her. She could think of no other reason that he would come to see her. Dukes did not form platonic friendships with ballerinas.

  And there is nothing platonic about the dance we shared last night.

  When she had first come to London and joined the ballet, Anna had been shocked and appalled to learn of the reputation of the ballerinas. She had danced for many years under the tutelage of a neighbor in Wiltshire who was a retired ballerina herself, but she had not been prepared for her life offstage.

  Once she had discovered this, Anna had resolved that her life would be quite different to that of her fellow company members. She could understand why the idea of being a wealthy aristocrat’s mistress might appeal to some of her fellow ballerinas, especially now that she knew that they were not being paid on a regular schedule.

  In her more charitable moments, Anna thought that such arrangements were really not so different from aristocratic marriages. Ballerinas became the mistresses of aristocrats as a way to gain financial stability.

  The wives in those marriages might not approve of their husbands’ connections with ballerinas, but most of them had married for political or financial gain. The only real difference between the wives and the mistresses was their social class—a mere accid
ent of their birth.

  Still, whether she was feeling charitable or not, the idea of such an arrangement for herself made Anna terribly uncomfortable. She was protective of her own virtue, but also of her position. In addition to learning about the reputation of ballerinas, she had also learned about what could happen to them when these affairs ended.

  Until last night, Anna had never been tempted to break her resolution to maintain her virtue. She hoped that someday she might meet a suitable man and be married, but she had not formed any romantic attachments in London, and she did not regret that fact.

  All of that had changed in the instant that she met the Duke, and she knew that if he were to come here today, and ask her to be his mistress, she would be sorely tempted to agree. The idea of seeing him regularly, and of sharing his bed was appealing to her in a way that she would never have thought possible.