A Vixen For The Devilish Duke (Steamy Historical Regency Romance)

by Olivia Bennet

  Adelia could not explain how much she truly did not want to stay. Not so much as a moment longer. She was tired of Lady Dorothea’s glares. Walking on eggshells was exhausting.

  “I think it’s best that I go. At least until we have answers,” she said gently, patting Lady Cornhill on the arm.

  She sighed. “Yes, I suppose so. I shall miss you terribly. Please keep in touch.”

  “Of course I shall.”

  Harry butted in on the conversation. “I have asked my aunt and she is amenable to you and your family visiting Miss Raby as often as you are able. She only asks that you let her know in advance in case she has some other engagement.”

  Adelia’s heart began to pound, wondering if his aunt expected Adelia to accompany her to these engagements. She had almost no knowledge of Society or the proprieties she’d have to observe. The very thought filled her with horror. She noticed that Harry was watching her keenly and she blinked a few times trying to compose herself.

  “If you will allow me, I shall escort Miss Raby there myself,” Harry said.

  “Why? Can’t she go on her own?” Adelia jumped, not having seen Lady Dorothea enter the room.

  “I must go with her so as to introduce her to my aunt,” Harry was perfectly polite but Adelia sensed an edge to his voice. He seemed angry.

  “All right then,” Lady Cornhill backed down and Adelia sighed.

  Why is everything so difficult?

  Lady Cornhill walked out of the room and Adelia turned to Harry, well aware that Lady Dorothea was still in the room. “Are we to leave right away?”

  “Well, I imagine you need to pack?”

  “I don’t have much, actually. It won’t take long.”

  He shook his head at her. “Never fear, I shall wait.”

  Nodding her head, she quickly exited the room. She stopped outside the door, curious as to what Lady Dorothea would do. As a lady, she was not permitted to be alone with a gentleman. After waiting a few minutes to see if Lady Dorothea would follow her out of the door, she scurried off to pack, curious about the pang she felt to think of them, alone together.

  * * *

  Adelia had never been so frightened in her life as the day Harry dropped her off at Winchester House to live with his aunt. She knew that it was for the best. She could not continue to live at the Cornhills without inciting talk.

  But she did not know Lady Harriet and so she was someone new, whose peccadillos she would have to get used to. One thing she had learned about the gentry in her short time amongst them was that they had a lot of peccadillos. Adelia was certain she would prove rather disappointing as a companion, for she was neither interesting nor entertaining.

  Even her best gowns were out of date and of poor quality by their standards. Dorothea had taken care to tell her so. Furthermore, she knew nothing of societal mores. She had never learned to dance to even the simplest of styles, much less the complicated steps that she knew were all the rage in the capital these days. Harry’s aunt would most likely take one look at her and send her back to him.

  A man answered the door who didn’t ease her worries any. Lady Harriet had a smartly-dressed butler who seemed to serve only to invite guests inside. He assured her that he would inform Lady Harriet of their arrival, but he seemed more surprised at her appearance than she would have liked. Harry escorted her inside and introduced her to Lady Harriet.

  She seemed aware of Adelia’s identity, at least. “Ah, Miss Raby! We weren’t expecting you quite so soon.”

  “I thought it best that I leave as soon as possible. The situation as I understand it is only meant to be temporary, however.”

  “Of course,” Lady Harriet’s eyes gleamed as if she might ask for more details. Harry had informed her in the carriage that his aunt knew only the bare bones of her quandary and it would be up to Adelia to confide in her if she chose. Adelia was torn between telling her everything. She surely deserved it after being so kind as to open up her home.

  However, she herself was not fully aware of what ‘the situation’ was and until she knew more, she would rather say nothing. “I’ll have Andrews show you to your room. The house can be intimidating, so I’ve put you across the hall from me.”

  The butler, Mr. Andrews, retrieved her trunk. She said goodbye to Harry and followed him up the stairs. He led her up the stairs to a room entirely too large to sleep in. Adelia spent the night staring at the ceiling, trying to will the sick feeling in the pit of her stomach away. Lady Harriet seemed kind, and surely she could manage to smile brightly and dance lightly and get along famously.

  When morning came, she wished she’d managed a bit more sleep. Lady Harriet whisked her away first to breakfast, then to her own dressing room.

  “I took the liberty of having a few gowns made up. I hope you don’t mind.”

  Adelia smiled nervously. “That was too kind of you. I hope I haven’t taken up too much of your time.”

  “Oh, of course not. It’s been so empty here since my husband passed, and I’m thrilled to have another woman in the house. If you are worried about the expense, don’t be. It will all be taken care of, and you can’t imagine how happy I am to help you through it.”

  Lady Harriet imperiously ordered the seamstress about, picking colors and styles while Adelia stood stiffly on a stool, mastering her impatience. Once the process had begun, Adelia resigned herself to it. If it should turn out that she was no one, perhaps she could sell the gowns and send the money to her mother.

  Harriet’s hands lingered on Adelia’s shoulders as she adjusted the collar, traced over the swell of her hips to smooth the fabric into place, tucked a stray hair behind her ear with a loving caress. Adelia found herself shivering. It was a cold day to be standing around mostly in her shift. Thank heavens no male servants tried to access her chambers.

  Lady Harriet turned her around after the gown had been arranged to her satisfaction. “Lovely! Although you’ll have to stand up a bit straighter than that, my dear.”

  She straightened Adelia’s back with a push of her hands, then cupped Adelia's bosom in her palms. “You’ll want to display these. Don’t blush, surely you’ve gathered what men are like. Chest out, chin up, back straight, and you’ll have suitors lining up to dance with you.”

  It was the caress of her breasts that made Adelia blush as much as the statement, but she couldn’t tell Lady Harriet that. Her mother had never been one for physical contact. Perhaps the gentry were simply that forward. She had no idea why Lady Harriet would even imagine that she was out to snag a man, but she supposed it was the logical deduction to make without more information. So again, it came to a choice of correcting her with the truth or going along with it. “If you say so,” she said.

  The next week passed in a similar fashion, Lady Harriet correcting her posture, the way she held her fork, the sound of her laugh. Adelia began to relax in Lady Harriet’s caustic company. She reminded Adelia of Sister Mary Catherine sometimes, and that she knew how to handle.

  She resolved to be endlessly agreeable and give her little reason to lose her temper. Every time Lady Harriet was forced to give her a compliment, she felt a warm glow of delight. Perhaps it was silly to flush with pride at a comment as simple as, “Oh, Miss Raby, your step has grown so much lighter,” but Adelia did not care how silly it was.

  She savored the moments Lady Harriet let her relax, even more than the lessons. She would invite Adelia into her bedchamber after dinner for conversation. She never asked any intrusive questions but gave Adelia ample opportunity to volunteer information. Adelia made sure their talks remained pleasant without giving away too much.

  She especially appreciated Lady Harriet when she talked her through what to expect at her first ball.

  “Have you ever been to a ball?” Lady Harriet asked, as she shrugged off her bodice, gesturing for Adelia to undo her stays. “You’ll be wonderful. Just do as I’ve taught you.”

  “I don’t know about that, My Lady. I should be awkward as all hell.�
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  Lady Harriet took Adelia’s hand in hers. “First of all, do not use words like that. Secondly, I will help you practice. Imagine that I’m, say, Lord Julius Heatherway, and I’ve asked for the honor of a dance.”

  It was difficult to imagine Lady Harriet as a young gentleman, but Adelia nodded her assent. “Have you been in the capital long, Lord Heatherway?”

  Lady Harriet swung her into a waltz. “I’ve just returned from our country estate. Last month was grouse season, you know.”

  “Oh, you hunt!” Adelia giggled the way Lady Harriet had taught her. “I accompanied my father every fall, it’s such an elegant sport.”

  “You shall have to call at Hollygrove, then. We have the most marvelous forests.”

  “I would like that very much.”

  “I would be thrilled to have our halls graced by such an exquisite young lady.”

  “I shall have to speak to my guardian about it.”

  Lady Harriet smiled. “I knew you were a clever girl.”

  She felt the color slowly return to her face “Did I do well?”

  “Well? You did exceptionally well. You spoke to me in a smooth and demure manner without losing your step. I think you are ready to take on the world, Miss Raby.”

  Adelia sat down on the bed, legs shaking. “You’re just being kind.”

  Lady Harriet laughed uproariously. “In which universe have you known me to be kind? I speak the truth as I see it and that is all.” Lady Harriet perched on the bed and took a sip of her evening tisane. “I have a few more lessons for you, and then you will be able to take on that sister of yours with no problem.”

  Adelia raised her head in surprise but then laughed because she should have known that Lady Harriet would suss out exactly who she was. She stood up and let her mentor teach her whatever she would.

  Chapter 14

  Background Noise

  Harry came to check on her, to see how she was doing. They sat in the parlor and had tea with Lady Harriet. Adelia insisted on baking him some honey cakes. She used to do it at the farm and she had missed baking. Now with everything in her life changing so rapidly, she needed something familiar, something that she could control.

  And so she baked honey cakes.

  “Mmm, these are delicious, Aunt Harriet. My compliments to your cook,” the Duke said after one bite.

  Lady Harriet smiled. “Well, actually…it was Miss Raby that did the baking.”

  He turned to her, “Did you, indeed? I see I made a mistake hiring you as a nurse. I should have retained you as my chef.”

  Adelia smiled. “Well, I don’t know about chef but I do enjoy cooking. And Lady Harriet has quite an extensive pantry. It really is quite enjoyable to bake when you have so much to choose from.”

  There was a moment of uncomfortable silence at the reminder of their differing backgrounds but then the Duke cleared his throat and smiled. “Well, I should be much obliged for your cooking at any time. I’m sure Aunt Harriet is, too.”

  “Indeed I am. Although Cook, not so much.”

  Adelia laughed. “Oh we came to a rapprochement…eventually. Once he understood I was not after his job.”

  “Ah, these Parisians can be so temperamental.” He smiled as he took a sip of his tea.

  “Indeed, they can. But he also has the most intriguing tales of his travels as a chef.”

  Harry raised an eyebrow. “Do tell.”

  “Oh, no. I am not the storyteller he is. I could not do his tales justice.”

  “I am sure you are wrong. But never mind the Duke’s stories. Tell us some of yours, about growing up on the farm. About your parents…”

  Adelia hesitated, wondering why he was so curious about them but then shrugged inwardly. It could do no harm to speak of them.

  Morning on the farm tended to come with several responsibilities; Adelia woke up and prepared breakfast for the family. It was usually a large meal consisting of eggs, fresh bread, milk, and ham.

  She would then go out to feed the animals, milk the goat, and collect eggs from the chicken coop before throwing scraps out for her mostly feral golden retriever.

  The family would gather around the breakfast table, and her father would say grace. They didn’t waste much time on food, would just shovel it all down and then scatter for the day.

  She would then continue on her duties for the day, tending to the farm and the animals that lived on it. They were always teetering on the edge of going belly up and it took every one of them, trying to squeeze as much as they could from the soil, to keep from losing their home and their livelihood. Even with that, most of the time their parents had to go out to the neighboring farms, looking for work.

  Adelia was left alone a lot, with just her cousin and the animals for company. Eventually, Alexander went to find his fortune in London and for a short while, it was just Adelia and the animals. One less person meant one less mouth to feed but still, by the time she was sixteen, Adelia knew that it was not enough.

  “And that is when you joined the orphanage?” Harry clarified.

  “Yes.”

  “And your parents? What happened to them?”

  “Why…nothing.”

  “I was just asking because it has been a few weeks now and they have yet to respond to our inquiries.”

  Adelia’s lashes swept downward to hide the worry in her own eyes. “Yes, I-I know. I cannot imagine…I think perhaps they might have gone to seek work away from the farm and have not yet received the letters.”

  “I was thinking of sending someone down there to check on them,” he said softly, “Would you like me to do that?”

  Adelia felt her heart beat faster.

  What is the right thing to do?

  “I think perhaps you should write to the parson and make inquiries. He always knows where they are.”

  “That is a good idea. I shall do so at once.”

  “Thank you, Your Grace.

  * * *

  The next time Harry came to visit, he had a letter from the parson. He handed it to her, with a sympathetic look in his eye.

  “It seems the parson does not know where your parents are. He called upon them, on the farm, but it was deserted. He promises to pass on any news he might get.”

  Harry watched Adelia’s face pale. “Indeed?” she whispered and her hand shook. “I cannot imagine—”

  “I expect they are fine.” He broke in at once, “I think they probably are seeking a place for the winter where they might get a constant supply of food, could that be so?”

  “Y-yes.”

  “All right then, we shall give them until spring thaw. Perhaps you should write to the parson and ask him to send word as soon as he knows anything.”

  “I thought you said he already agreed to do so.” Her eyes were so big in her face as she looked up at him.

  “Indeed I did. But he should also hear from you. Just so he knows that you are aware.”

  She nodded slowly. “Yes, that…. that sounds like…” she swallowed, her face paler still. He wanted to envelop her in his arms, tell her everything would be all right. There was probably a very innocuous reason for her parents’ disappearance. It was just that, at the moment, he could not think what that reason could be.

  He hated to think that they might leave her to contend with the revelations of a possible sister and birth parents by herself. Many adoptive parents did not like to let their children know of their true birth. Especially if the child had been abandoned. But this continued silence spoke, perhaps, of some sort of chicanery having occurred.

  Harry was more than sure that Adelia was indeed the daughter of the Earl of Cornhill. But there could be no announcement until they were sure. It would be helpful if they knew what her story was as only her adoptive parents could tell.

  They had already questioned the housekeeper who had been present at the time and she had given them the last known address for the midwife that had attended the birth. They had yet to find her, however.

 
; Adelia’s parents were their only real hope of finding out what happened. Harry could understand, though, why she would be reluctant to know. One did not simply stop loving one’s parents just because it turned out they might not have birthed one.

  * * *

  “You have a visitor,” the butler said, as Adelia looked up from her embroidering. It was tedious work and she was glad to put it aside.

  “Who is it?” she remembered to ask.

  “It is Lady Cornhill and Lady Dorothea.”

  “Please, send them in.”