“Is Lord Arthur planning to promenade today?” asked Eugenia, trying to direct the tiresome girl toward more important matters. “I am out of all patience with him, for he was supposed to waltz with me at the Loughcroft’s ball last night. It was much remarked upon, the way the three of you left so suddenly – and your sister-in-law not even deeming to make an appearance!”
“Kate,” muttered Helena with a shake of her head. “I suppose I should not be surprised that everyone noted her absence, but she did have a perfectly valid reason, you know.”
Eugenia raised one brow. “Did you just defend your sister-in-law? The one who has gone out of her way to prevent you marrying your true love?”
Not that Eugenia disagreed with the Duchess on that particular matter, but she was not about to let Helena know that.
“She is not a complete villain,” said Helena, shaking her head. “Well, not all of the time at any rate. On my better days I can even feel some pity for her, for it must not be easy to be in such a loveless marriage. If only she would not take it out on me and my beloved Jonathan!”
Eugenia, recognising the opening notes of a familiar refrain, sought to divert her young friend before she was condemned to listen to Helena whine about the various injustices she was forced to suffer.
“Very true! But I do not think that is anything to do with your news.”
“Ha! But that shows what you know!” said Helena, looking smug.
The barouche swept around the corner and into Hyde Park, and the coachman was almost immediately forced to slow down due to the sheer numbers of fashionable people out to see and be seen. Carriages, horses, and groups of well-to-do people gathered at the park every day for just this purpose, and as she secretly harboured a desire to be acknowledged as a leader of fashion, it made her heart sing to be counted among their number.
Even though she knew hers was not the most dashing of equipages, Eugenia was confident that her carriage was well known to those common folk who came to gawk at their betters and thus sat a little straighter. Her cerise-coloured pelisse was the height of fashion, and the vast quantities of silver and gold frogging gave it a stylish bent that she was quite proud of. Despite her envy for Helena’s capote, she reminded herself that it was not a hat made to stand out, whereas her own straw bonnet, decorated with silver and purple ostrich plumes, commanded attention.
“Then do you intend to tell me, or not?” said Eugenia, looking about her for important people to acknowledge.
“My brother is home.”
Eugenia glanced at her in surprise. “Lord Arthur has decided to give up his rooms? I am surprised, but it must be of considerable comfort to your mother.”
“No, you goose!” laughed Helena, and Eugenia repressed the urge to box the younger girl’s ears for her impertinence, “my other brother!”
Eugenia blinked a few times as her brain refused to process the implications of Helena’s words.
“Lexborough?” she said, barely believing it. “The Duke of Lexborough is back in England?”
“Yes, and isn’t it marvellous?” said Helena, her grin a mile wide. “Whenever Kate did something I disliked, I would mention it in my letters to him. Without fail, he would send her a letter saying that she had to listen to Mama. I mean, yes, Mama listened to Kate so nothing really changed when it comes down to it, but now Alex is home I just know he’ll approve a match between myself and Jonathan Rumble, and if I am very lucky Kate will go live in Bath or some such place!”
“Indeed,” said Eugenia, ignoring Helena’s chatter as her mind began to race. She, like most of the Ton, had long believed that the Duke of Lexborough had no intention of setting foot on England’s shores again; after all, he had not even bothered to return after his father’s death seven years before. She racked her brain for possible reasons for his sudden decision to come to London but discarded them all until she was left with only one.
An heir.
Eugenia balled her hands into fists, glad they were hidden by her expensive chinchilla muff.
“Surely the Duchess is beyond happy to have her husband returned to her,” she said carefully.
Helena snorted. “Not likely! Lord, at breakfast it was like sitting between two blocks of ice! Alex is obviously unhappy with the way Kate has been managing things, and Kate is unhappy that she no longer gets to be in control! It was a little uncomfortable for Mama and me, but I think it is a small price to pay for things to return to normal, don’t you?”
Eugenia felt some of the tension release from her shoulders. “It is only to be expected that there would be some reserve between them since they are practically strangers.”
“It’s more than that,” said Helena with an unbecoming amount of cheer. “I don’t think they even like each other above half, which is perfect, really, because then Alex is not going to listen to Kate’s ridiculous objections to my marriage and we can all be happy again. Oh look, is that Lady Sefton? Please let us pull up and tell her the marvellous news about Alex!”
Eugenia smiled and acquiesced, for once happy to let her friend be the centre of attention as she gossiped with every high-ranking member of the Ton whose notice she could catch. Eugenia nodded and replied to comments directed to her, accepting the notice of the Ladies and Gentlemen of the Ton as her due, but her mind was working elsewhere.
Lexborough returned! It could hardly bare thinking about! She did not, of course, wish any harm on the man nor had ever done so, but if she had been asked about her thoughts on the distant Duke, she would have said that his eccentric lifestyle over on the Continent was not precisely conducive to a long life.
Finally there was no more time to drive about the park, and Eugenia ordered her coachman to return to the Lexborough’s palatial home on Portman Square, trying not to feel irritated at the vagaries of fate that allowed Helena, and more importantly, Kate, to call the beautiful property their home.
“Do you go to the Delby’s soiree tonight?” asked Eugenia as the coachman expertly brought her carriage to a halt. “No doubt that ghastly companion of Cordelia’s will be there, but one must accept the hardships thrust upon us by our rank.”
Helena frowned. “No, I don’t think we are, but pray what could be thought contemptible about Miss Manning? She writes the most glorious stories, you know!”
Eugenia smiled and gave Helena’s hand a little pat. “A passing ability to write absurd novels is hardly something to be celebrated, my dear. I would have more time for her if she wrote improving works, but I fear she is not well enough educated.”
“Unlike you,” said Helena, no doubt considering her own poor education.
“Yes, I admit I am uncommonly lucky to have had such excellent tuition. No matter, I shall brave the gathering regardless! Do give my love to your Mama, won’t you?”
“And Kate,” said Helena, looking mulish. “She is a Duchess as well, you know.”
Eugenia just laughed, knowing the capriciousness of her friend. “Naturally, my dear, naturally! Now do go inside, I should hate to make you late for your next engagement.”
Helena did not look exactly happy as she clambered out of the carriage, but Eugenia cared very little for what the silly girl felt. She was about to order the coachman to drive her away when luck favoured her, and Lord Arthur strolled into sight, looking as exquisitely dressed as ever.
“My Lord, what good fortune for us to run into one another!” she cried out to catch his attention. He looked startled to see her, his eyes lingering on her hat for a good while, but he had the good manners to approach the barouche and execute a perfect bow.
“Eugenia, I was not expecting to see you,” he said with an odd expression she could not quite read. “Out with my sister, were you?”
“Yes we drove around Hyde Park together,” she replied reaching out her hand to him. “Shall we take a turn about the square, Arthur? I have something I most particularly want to discuss with you!”
Arthur glanced at the door of his brother’s home and sighed. He
took her hand out to help Eugenia down from the barouche, and then offered her his arm in precisely the correct way. His manners were always so particular; it was one of the things she liked best about him.
“I see you approve of my bonnet,” she said, preening a little as she realised his eyes continued to be drawn to it. Despite his being only just twenty-four years of age, he was a noted dandy about the town, and his judgements on fashion were held in the deepest regard by all who aspired to be noticed. “You will see I took your advice and went with a simple straw.”
“It’s certainly an improvement on that monstrosity your mantua-maker sold you,” he replied, and she had to bite hard on her lip to prevent herself from sniping at him.
“We must agree to disagree about my turban,” she declared, lifting her chin a touch higher. “I declare that if only you would allow me to wear it, then you would see it become all the rage within a fortnight.”
“I have nothing against turbans as a general rule,” said Arthur, the expression on his face pained, “but I object to them being constructed from some hideous lace and adorned with apricots.”
“I acknowledge you are a leader when it comes to current fashion,” she said, trying hard not to glare at him despite her words, “but allow me my feminine intuition and innate understanding of how to stand out.”
“You certainly do that,” replied Arthur, and so she rewarded him with a light squeeze on his arm.
“Thank you, but I didn’t want to promenade with you just to talk about fashion – we have something far more important to discuss!”
Arthur stopped in his tracks, practically wrenching her arm out of its socket as he did so. “My dear Lady Eugenia, there is no topic more important that the cut of a man’s clothing!”
She rolled her eyes, not sure whether she had the patience to deal with his funning. “I am talking about the return of your brother!”
“Helena told you, did she?” he replied and started to walk again, as though Lexborough’s arrival in London was nothing but the merest commonplace.
“Of course she did! After all, she already thinks of me as practically her sister.”
“Wouldn’t put too much stock in that,” replied Arthur with a small shrug. “She definitely thinks of Katie as a sister, and look how she treats her!”
“One can hardly blame Helena for the poor way the Duchess has managed things while your brother has been away.”
Arthur frowned. “I say, are you insulting Katie or my mother?”
“Do try to stick to important matters,” she said with a frustrated sigh. “Your brother has returned!”
“So he has, but I’ll be dashed if I know why it has you in all of a twitter – he ain’t your brother, after all.”
“Because he will be very soon!”
Arthur blinked. “I don’t follow.”
“Our future marriage!” she snapped, her exasperation letting her temper get the better of her.
“Ah, yes,” said Arthur, turning to look ahead of them as he finally caught up to her thinking. “The marriage.”
“You are twenty-five in less than a year so will be free to wed,” she said, trying to compose herself while she talked. “I understood that you did not wish to ask for him to release control of your fortune earlier than that by a letter, even though it would have meant we could have been wed this two years past. However, now he is in London. I want to know when you plan to raise the issue with him.”
“I’ve not seen my only brother for the better part of a decade, Eugenia,” he replied, puffing up like a robin. “Firstly, I would like to get to know him again before I charge in demanding he make arrangements for my future, and secondly, give the man a chance to settle back into England!”
“Sometimes I think you do not wish to wed me,” she said archly.
Arthur only sighed. “Gave you my word, didn’t I?”
“Yes, you did,” she replied as she struggled to keep the smile on her face. “I must say, though, you seem to be taking Lexborough’s return to England very well.”
He seemed surprised by this comment. “Why wouldn’t I?”
She tried to keep her tone as light as possible. “I assumed you would not wish for a reconciliation between your brother and his wife. You’ve been living off your Expectations for a while, after all.”
“Living off…?” he shook his head as they rounded the final corner of the Square and began the short stroll back toward her carriage. “I know you think you’re a downy one, Eugenia, but you speak in dashed confusing riddles sometimes.”
Eugenia closed her eyes and counted to ten. She reopened them and graced Arthur with the most devastating smile that she could muster. “Then you must forgive my vulgarity, but what if Kate finds herself in the family way?”
For a moment Arthur looked appalled, and she had hope that his not-significant intelligence was sufficient at least to understand the precarious nature of their future.
But then a grin broke out across his face. “Lord, an heir for the Lexborough name! I don’t know which of the family would be happiest! I say; I bet I could convince Katie to call the brat Arthur, after me. It would be monstrous entertaining to know a future Duke of Lexborough would be called Arthur.”
“Would you not prefer that honour for your own son?” she said through gritted teeth.
Arthur looked astonished at this suggestion. “Why on earth would I wish the dukedom on one of my offspring? Dashed hard work, being a peer of the realm. I had no notion! Now allow me to hand you back up into your barouche, Eugenia – not good to leave your horses standing.”
It was all she could do not to scream at his lack of ambition, but she swallowed it down and allowed him to help her into her carriage. It took considerable effort to remind herself that for all Arthur could be a little slow on the uptake, he was an amiable man of good birth who would, a year hence, come into a not inconsiderable amount of money.
And she would not forget that, for the present time at least, he was also the heir to the Dukedom.
She squeezed his fingers. “Dearest Arthur, your goodness does you much credit. Promise me you will at least discuss our marriage with your brother?”
“If it comes up in conversation I’ll be sure to mention it,” he replied, and then took his leave.
Eugenia watched him go with a frown.
If Arthur would do nothing to secure their future, then she might well be forced to take matters into her own hands.
Four
As Alex stared at the piles of ledgers, papers and letters piled on the desk before him, he was forcibly reminded of one of the reasons he had avoided coming home for so long.
“Is all of this necessary, Hopkins?” he asked with a weary sigh as his man of business passed him yet another document to peruse. “I’m sure you are perfectly capable of making these decisions yourself.”
Hopkins, a simply-but-elegantly dressed man in his late forties, laughed politely, as though Alex had made a poor attempt at a joke.
“It was always your late father’s maxim that it was the duty of a peer to understand the properties and people under his care.”
“You have been perfectly satisfied to send me a summary these past seven years,” Alex replied, trying in vain to ignore the dull ache in his chest at the mention of his father.
The man had been an Ox. He should never have died so young – especially not from so trifling an ailment as a cold.
“I wouldn’t say I have been satisfied with the arrangement, your Grace, but the Duchess has acted well as your proxy. She took the lessons of your father to heart, if you don’t mind me saying.”
“Mother always did have a soft spot for Darlington Park,” he replied, staring at a staggering bill for beeswax candles. “Hopkins, are you quite sure this amount is correct?”
Hopkins looked confused for a moment, and then looked down at the papers held in Alex’s hand.
“Quite sure, my Lord. Her Grace looks after the household accounts, of course.”
“Yes, but thirty pounds a month on candles?” he said with a shake of his head and guessing he spent less than half of that a quarter for his own needs while in Europe. “I’ll talk to her about it later. Honestly, I know the estates are wealthy, Hopkins, but throwing money away on superfluities will beggar us as surely as a poor throw of the dice.”
“What will beggar us, Lexborough? Are we to be cast into a debtor’s prison over the price of peas?” came a feminine voice. He looked up to see his wife peeking around the door. She wore a finely made walking dress and was in the process of tying her bonnet ribbon beneath her chin. “Hello, Hopkins. Ghastly weather today, isn’t it? But one must be seen no matter what!”
Hopkins returned her greeting with a smile that suggested they knew each other a little better than Alex had supposed. He was glad that his mother had seen fit to introduce Kate to his man of business but found himself oddly resentful that the older man knew Kate better than he did – even though Alex had no one to blame for that but himself.
He had been home for almost a week and yet he had barely spoken to her, barely even seen her, during that time. It seemed that his return at the height of the Season, while causing a stir within the Ton, had not caused it to stand still. His mother, sister and wife were rarely to be found at home, and on those rare occasions when they were, he invariably found them entertaining guests.
“Peas?” Alex asked, partly to interrupt the friendly discussion between Hopkins and his wife, and partly due to intrigue at her cryptic remark.
“Yes, for Helena’s come-out ball. You mother was right, of course, and they were quite the most delicious things I have ever tasted, but Lord above they were expensive! I tried to convince her that Helena would have much preferred additional ices from Gunters, but apparently peas are important to the dignity of a Duchess, and thus I capitulated.”
He smiled at her nonsense as he stood up from behind the desk. He wasn’t sure what compelled him to go toward her and take her hands, but he was gratified that she returned his smile with a warm one of her own.
The Rebel Wife: Book Four in the Regency Romps Series Page 3