Duke 0f Chance (Regency Stories Book 2)

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Duke 0f Chance (Regency Stories Book 2) Page 6

by Catherine Mayfair


  “Why do you cry?”

  Her stiff countenance lagged. “Because I do not wish to have you court me any longer,” she whispered. Then she sighed. “Yet, I made an agreement and shall hold to it despite how much I do not want to.” The sounds of the orchestra and laughs from those in attendance carried out to them, but none of those joyous sounds brightened her mood.

  “Tell me, Miss Newmont,” the Duke said, his voice sharp. “Why is it you feel you do not need me? I have a hundred women who would beg me for the chance you have been given, and yet you do not want it. Why?”

  Hannah shook her head in frustration. There were things she wished to tell this man but society dictated that she could not. Plus, how could she tell this man what she herself could not understand and was not willing to accept?

  He stared at her in amazement. “Women are an odd creature. You walk away from me in anger and now you refuse to talk.”

  “If I tell you what I think, it would only cause your ire to grow,” Hannah replied. “It’s apparent I have upset you enough for one evening.”

  He laughed. “Yes, you have done that,” he said. “Though I am interested in what you have to say. So, speak freely, for it is something I rarely grant.”

  Anger went through Hannah, but she grasped onto the opportunity and spoke what was on her mind. “Your words are cruel, Your Grace,” she said, surprised that her voice was so steady. “You demean people such as me and look down upon us. You spoke with that woman,” she spat the words filled with venom, “and left me alone in a place where I no one.”

  “Margaret?” he replied with a small snort. “She’s an old friend. What of her?”

  “It is not about her,” Hannah said. “You left me alone. Your friends all look at me with contempt, something you do not know for everyone around you grovels for your attention.” For whatever reason, once the words came, she could not stop their onslaught, nor did she want to, and she took a step toward the man. “I will honor our agreement, but I will never grovel for you. I will refer to you by your proper title, for that is what is expected. I will stand in the corner by myself if you wish of me,” A hot tear rolled down her face at the humiliation she felt at saying the words, “in a dress of which I hope you would approve. I will do all those things, but never will I beg for your attention.” She caught her breath as she realized what she had just done. To speak against a duke like she just had would earn the scorn of her parents, not to mention the Duke himself. However, the Duke remained silent and Hannah turned her back to him. “I shall return inside with the other guests. When you need me, I will be ready. If not, thank you for inviting my parents and me out this evening.” With a sigh as she wiped away the last tear, she started to walk away, her heart heavy with hurt.

  Then his voice came to her, causing her to stop in place. “So the leaf falls and a new season begins, my heart renders anew.”

  Hannah's heart raced as she turned around. “You read it,” she said, referring to the book of poetry she had left with the man.

  “That I did,” he replied. “I am not as horrible as you may think.” He then came to walk past her but stopped at her side. “Your dress, like you, is more than beautiful; it is exquisite,” he whispered and then walked away.

  Hannah shook her head, her anger falling away and a longing to speak with the man replacing it. However, the Duke had already headed back inside. Not wanting to remain alone any longer, Hannah hurried in as well. What a strange night it had become!

  CHAPTER EIGHT

  Chapter Eight

  Hannah had hoped to enter the ballroom unnoticed by her parents, but her heart thudded as her mother hurried toward her. Taking a deep breath and hoping her face showed no sign of her recent emotions, Hannah smiled as her mother came to her side and took her arm in her own.

  “You have been gone for some time,” her mother whispered. “Do I dare ask where, or with whom?”

  Hannah gulped and then turned to her mother. She did not want to lie to the woman but she was afraid to tell her the truth.

  “Miss Newmont,” the Duke said before Hannah was able to respond to the question her mother had posed.

  Both Hannah and her mother turned as the Duke stood beside them, his back straight and tall and a sly smile on his face.

  “Your Grace,” her mother said.

  “I hope you were not too worried about Hannah having gone missing. Lord Whitley's cousin, Miss Treesing, decided to take her away for a private conversation. Though, I do not dare ask what women speak about alone.” He smiled and gave a nod to Hannah.

  “Is this true?” her mother asked.

  Hannah nodded. “Yes, Mother,” she replied, though the lie sat heavy on her tongue. “She is a lovely woman. Forgive me for being gone so long.” She was not sure if her mother believed her or not, but the woman did not respond, for the Duke spoke first.

  “Now, if Miss Newmont would like to come with me,” he said as if the entire issue was taken care of, “there is someone I would like her to meet.”

  Mrs. Newmont nodded in agreement, but her face was filled with relief as Hannah walked away, her arm entwined in the Duke’s as they snaked their way through the crowd.

  “Thank you,” Hannah said in a whispered voice. “That was kind of you.”

  The Duke gave a dismissive sniff. “It does not matter. There is no need to allow the gossips to drag my name through the mud.”

  Hannah could not help but smile. The man might be arrogant—might? No, he was arrogant—but apparently he had his moments of civility. Maybe he might even be tolerable.

  They approached an older couple with bent backs and creased faces. The woman swayed on her feet, catching herself on the arm of the man Hannah suspected was her husband in a clear attempt to upright herself. In her hand was a near-empty glass, and the smell of alcohol was pungent. Her husband pulled on his nose as if deep in thought and only gave his wife a perfunctory glance and help with standing.

  When he noticed the Duke approach, however, he smiled brightly. “Your Grace!” he exclaimed. “What a surprise to see you.”

  “Lord Owens, Lady Owens,” the Duke said, though he did not return their nods, “I would like you to meet Miss Hannah Newmont.”

  “Ah, Miss Newmont,” the man said as he took her hand and planted a kiss on her knuckles, “it is a pleasure.”

  The woman also smiled, though it was crooked. “Yes, indeed. A great pleasure,” she said, her voice slurred, solidifying Hannah’s suspicions of the woman’s intoxication.

  “Lord Brumsford has certainly outdone himself,” Lord Owens said. “Though I heard him complaining about needing to sell more land.” He shook his head and sighed. “I suppose many have to as of late.”

  “They do,” the Duke replied. “And I am the one doing the buying.”

  Lord Owens gave a hearty laugh as his wife took a healthy drink from her glass. “Be careful, Miss Newmont. The Duke is always on about business. I’m sure he already has some of my lands in mind.”

  For the first time, Hannah heard the Duke give a genuine laugh, and it was a handsome sound, small lines appearing in the corners of her eyes she had never seen before.

  “You are wiser than the ton believes,” the Duke said. “Enjoy the evening.”

  A moment later, he and Hannah walked over to a footman who held a tray full of drinks, taking two glasses of wine, one of which he handed to Hannah.

  “How long have you known Lord and Lady Owens?” she asked after thanking him for the drink.

  “Many years,” the Duke replied. “Long before my father passed away.” He shook his head as though clearing a memory. “Owens has a mind for business, much like my own.”

  Hannah smiled and then took a sip of the wine. “They seem nice enough.”

  “Did you truly like them?”

  “I did,” Hannah replied honestly. “They were kind, and it did not appear that Lord Owens or his wife judged me like many here have.” She lowered her head. “I’m sorry. I do not mean t
o complain. I am lucky to have been invited.”

  “Worry not,” the Duke said. He offered her his arm, which she took with less hesitancy this time, and they walked to stand before a large window frame with a painting of a bouquet of flowers beside it. “All these people, their titles, their money, all look at each other with disdain. Oh, they seem to enjoy each other’s company, but the truth is that they despise one another. Yes, I noticed their looks toward you, and I can promise that, by the end of our courtship, they will accept you as they do me.”

  Though Hannah cared nothing for acceptance of these strangers—well, not too much, anyway—her heart lifted upon hearing his words. For all the inhumanness he seemed to possess, a small part of him was quite the opposite, and she hoped she would see more of that side of him.

  “Thank you, Your Grace,” she said.

  “Come. The hour draws late and there are many more people I want you to meet.”

  ***

  For over an hour, Hannah had been introduced to many of the ton. Some she had met or seen before, mostly in passing, but none of them gave any indication of knowing as such. The slight only burned a little, for at least now they were taking notice of her, even if it was because she stood beside the Duke.

  Once the party was concluded, and with a promise to call over soon, Joseph bid her farewell. Now, she sat in the carriage with her parents, looking out the window, the moonlight highlighting the forest as Hannah's mind wandered back to the Duke. What a confusing man he was! She was not sure if she should despise him or enjoy his company, for he could be arrogant one moment and kind the next. He was most certainly a contradiction in a Duke’s skin.

  Granted, the evening had a horrible beginning, but its ending had left Hannah with a feeling of hope. Though their agreement was to last for three months, and she had been resistant to follow through, for the first time she looked forward to it.

  However, there was so much about the man she did not know, things about which she remained curious. He claimed to only hunt and do business, but then he had read her book of poetry and even quoted a line from it. By doing so, he had shown her he had not told the truth; he was willing to go beyond that which he was accustomed.

  Then there was the issue of the ton accepting her. Deep down she could not believe his words that the people who were members of that class would look at her in the same way they looked at him, for the ton was a fickle beast. Yet, she found herself hoping they would accept her, if only to please him.

  An odd sensation moved through her body, and she wondered why she was interested in seeing him happy. Perhaps it was just the proper upbringing her mother had instilled in her—that everyone deserves kindness. Whatever it was, it left her with a warm feeling that she enjoyed tremendously.

  “One more for me, please,” her father mumbled, breaking Hannah from her thoughts. Her father was resting his head on her mother’s shoulder in a drunken stupor, apparently dreaming of the party in his inebriated sleep.

  Hannah put her hand over her mouth to stifle a giggle.

  “Ezra,” her mother snapped at the man, “we have left the party. There are no more drinks.” She sighed heavily when he mumbled something unintelligible and soon began to snore—loudly.

  Hannah wiped at the tears that ran down her cheeks as she tried with all her might to keep from laughing too loudly and thus waking the man.

  “Hannah!” her mother admonished in a loud whisper. “It’s not nice to laugh…” her words were cut off by a loud snort that came from her father as he shifted himself in the seat, which made her mother laugh, as well.

  “You were saying, Mother?”

  Her mother smiled, which Hannah returned before looking back out the window and allowing her mind to go back to her thoughts of the Duke of Chance and what a complicated creature he truly was.

  ***

  Hannah had already changed into her nightdress and was just reaching over to snuff out the candle when a single tap at her door had her turn. Her mother entered the room, a look of exhaustion on her face.

  “Is father…?”

  “Snoring?” her mother asked with a slight shake of her head. “Yes. I’m afraid the horses are spooked.”

  Hannah laughed, picturing her father sleeping in a stall in the stables, though she knew her mother would not have left him there. He might raise her ire by his intoxication, but her mother would never leave him in such a state; she loved him too much to do such a thing.

  Her mother smiled and came to sit on the edge of the bed. She took Hannah’s hands in hers.

  Her mother’s actions worried Hannah. “Is everything fine?” she asked. “You appear worried.”

  “Oh, yes, I’m fine. Though I worry for you. You were so excited to attend the party, but when we arrived, you appeared unhappy. I have to admit that I was pleased that you were quite content when we left.”

  Hannah sighed. “What you say is true,” she said, wishing she could tell her mother about how the Duke had quoted from her book of poetry. Yet, she could not do so, though she could not have explained why.

  “Hannah, when a gentleman begins to take an interest in a lady…” she sighed for a moment and then continued, “he may use his words to soothe the lady’s soul. Do you understand?”

  Hannah shook her head. “I’m sorry, but I do not.” Soothe a lady’s soul? What on Earth was her mother really saying?

  “I noticed that you became happier after you had gone missing,” her mother continued. “I also noticed that the woman the Duke spoke of did not disappear, for I saw her several times during the party, even when you were gone. Yet, the Duke was not in attendance while you were gone either.”

  Hannah looked down at the floor. “It is true,” she said, a weight lifting from her shoulders. “I cannot lie to you. I spoke with the Duke alone.” It was quiet for a moment and then Hannah looked up at her mother. “But he introduced me to so many people, and it was strange, but he seemed—proud, I suppose the word would be—to do so. He was not the man I first thought he was, and I find that intriguing.”

  “I understand,” her mother said as she pushed back a strand of hair from Hannah’s face. “I need you to be careful. Let your heart guide you, but be wary of any words that may get you to do something you might regret later.”

  “Yes, mother,” Hannah replied. “I will. And don’t worry; I believe he is a good man. Tonight he told me that he wants the ton to accept me as they do him. In fact, he said he would make sure of it.”

  Her mother leaned forward and kissed her forehead. “Good. Just remember my words, for men can cover roguish words with honey as easily as the cook can add sugar to bread to make sweetbread.” She stood. “I will see you in the morning. That is, if your father will allow me to sleep.”

  Hannah laughed and slipped under the covers as her mother closed the door behind her. Her thoughts returned to the events of the night, and she wondered about the Duke and if he was thinking of her, as well. Or was he preparing honeyed words to use on her the next time they met?

  CHAPTER NINE

  Chapter Nine

  The carriage came to a stop, and Joseph let out a sigh. He was not certain why he agreed to go to Albert’s home. No, he did know why; it was the consistent nagging of his friend to join him and Margaret for drinks. And although they had been drunk enough at the party Lord Brumsford had given, Joseph had eventually agreed.

  As it was, it was not the companionship of his friends that had in a foul mood this day. He could not stop his thoughts from turning to Miss Newmont, however hard he tried to turn his mind to anything but her. There was something about seeing her cheeks wet with tears that brought about a feeling of hurt regret, a feeling he had not experienced in a very long time. By all accounts, he should not care—she was an object of a bet, a means to an end so he could secure property. However, when he was with her, some sort of caring erupted in him, a need to protect her somehow, and the reasoning behind such feelings eluded him. The truth was that not understanding was
what infuriated him the most.

  The door of the carriage opened, and Joseph glanced out to see Albert standing beside Margaret in front of the house.

  “Are you that drunk that you need assistance?” Albert called out when Joseph placed a careful foot on the step that had been set on the ground outside the door to the carriage.

  Joseph laughed as he walked toward his friend. “Your house is so small, I did not even notice it,” he said. “I was trying to find my bearings is all, for I thought my driver had left me in a field.”

  Margaret laughed, but Albert clenched his jaw. “Do not be upset, Albert,” she said in that lilting voice, “Your estate is one of the nicer ones of the Gentry.”

  This remark made even Albert bark with laughter as the three made their way inside the home, for to be mistaken for Gentry rather than Nobility was a great heckling they had done to one another since they were children.

  Heading to the parlor, the candles were already lit. Albert’s staff were one of the finest Joseph had ever seen, even though his house was half the size of his. When the servants knew the master of the house better than themselves, they could be considered superior.

  “A brandy for you, Joseph?” Albert asked.

  Joseph nodded. “Please.”

  “Margaret?”

  “If His Grace drinks brandy, then I shall, as well,” came her reply. Then she sat on the small couch and patted the place beside her. “Come. Sit.” Then a small smile played on her lips. “If sitting beside me is acceptable.”

  Joseph laughed. “Of course,” he replied, taking a seat beside her. “And stop the Your Grace nonsense. We’ve known each other far too long to go on formalities now; we’re the same friends we were as children, are we not?”

  She laughed lightly. “I believe we are.”

 

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