A Duke to Elude: Sweet Regency Romance (Sherton Sisters Book 1)

by Wendy May Andrews

  “To be sure,” Sally agreed as she hurried along beside her mistress. “Although, there is good reason to believe that she and your sisters would have remained abed until quite late, so they probably haven’t had all that much time to miss you.”

  “That is a possibility, Sally. But there’s also a chance that she’ll ask Tom or Mr. Philips what time we departed.”

  The maid nodded glumly, and Rosabel smiled. “But we won’t know until we get there so, there’s no need for us to worry overmuch now. And you needn’t worry in the least. It won’t be you that will have a peal wrung over her head.”

  Sally grinned. “Very true, my lady.”

  By now they had reached the courtyard where Wexford was awaiting them. Sally grew bashful when he offered her his hand to assist her into his carriage. Rosabel smiled at the sight. But then she, too, became a little flustered when the duke put his warm hands around her waist to lift her up to her seat.

  “Thank you, Your Grace,” she murmured, her eyes downcast before his low chuckle brought her gaze to meet his. Rosabel’s breath caught in her throat, but she ignored the sensation. The Duke of Wexford was not for her, she reminded herself, ignoring, too, the churning in her stomach that told her how divided she was on the subject.

  Finally, after such a fluttery, heart-stopping moment of heat while he held her and slowly lifted her into the carriage, Rosabel arranged her skirts and hoped her flaming face didn’t betray her too desperately. She comforted herself with the thought that Wexford’s attention would need to be focused on the horses for a time and not on her. Perhaps he wouldn’t notice how flustered she had become. She knew it was a stretch of the imagination, as the noblemen didn’t seem to miss a thing. Just the fact that he had noticed that she was watching him that night had led to this excursion today, she reminded herself, trying not to despair.

  They were well out of the courtyard, the horses swiftly eating up the distance between the inn and Town, when Bel finally broke the silence that had grown between them. The silence hadn’t become uncomfortable, but she still had questions.

  “What will you do now, about Prescott, I mean? I haven’t really helped you at all, and now you’ve lost a day.”

  The surprised expression he cast at her was strangely comforting.

  “You have helped, Rosabel. For one thing, knowing his actions are far from new, is helpful, if disappointing. For another, now that I know you aren’t involved in any way, I can focus my attention elsewhere.”

  Rosabel’s heart sank. Which was ridiculous, she chided herself. There was absolutely no reason to be disappointed that his recent attentions were only prompted by his investigation into Prescott. She didn’t want to be courted by a duke, she reminded herself firmly. Watching the scenery pass by, Bel wished wholeheartedly that the Season were nearly over instead of barely just beginning. There would be several more weeks of the senseless activities to get through. She brightened with a possibility. Perhaps she could occupy herself with assisting the investigation.

  “Do you have reason to believe a woman or women are involved in whatever plot you suspect Prescott to be scheming?”

  “Why do you ask?”

  Bel wanted to be angry with him for always countering her questions with ones of his own, but she was too eager for the answer.

  “I was thinking that perhaps I could help you. Women might not be as free with the truth while speaking with you as they might be with another woman. Especially if you think other members of the ton might be involved.”

  “Why would you want to involve yourself? What would you hope to gain from it?”

  Rosabel’s heart sank further.

  “Why must I be after gain? Has no one ever done something for the sake of good? What are you hoping to gain?” She knew she sounded defensive, but that couldn’t be helped. Anger was rising in her chest at the thought that he still doubted her motives.

  “Don’t you have your own future to see to? Or is this still a part of your quest to better yourself?” His voice softened on his second question, and he reached out to pat her hands. Condescendingly, to Bel’s mind. “You are already a lovely person, Rosabel, no one could think otherwise. You needn’t soil your hands with this business to prove anything.”

  “Your contradictory words make my head spin, Your Grace. But my offer to help had nothing to do with others’ perception of me. I would hope my involvement would never become known so, that cannot be my motivation.” She paused, not meeting his eyes. “If you must know, I’m bored and disappointed with the Season. I would like to see my sisters wed, but I don’t think I’m cut out for matchmaking. I really just want to go home, but I don’t think my mother will allow that. This would help pass the time. And if it gets a rotter out of Society, all the better.”

  “But you don’t even know what he’s done or exactly what I’m investigating or how much trouble it could cause you.”

  “You could tell me,” she argued, hoping he’d see reason.

  “I would really rather you not be involved, Rosabel. I shouldn’t have suggested you were offering out of some sort of selfish reason. But my instinctive reaction is to keep you out of it completely.”

  “Well, you failed at that rather miserably when you demanded that I accompany you this morning, don’t you think?” She countered her words with a smile, not intending offence. He answered with a rueful smile of his own.

  “You do have a point.” But he sighed heavily. “I really don’t want you getting hurt, Rosabel. There is very real danger involved. I think Prescott is getting desperate. I wouldn’t want you anywhere near him.”

  “Well, I certainly wasn’t proposing to have any involvement with him, to be frank. It’s all I can bear to share a ballroom with him at times. I haven’t spoken to him in over two years. But I thought, if you were questioning ladies, I could be of assistance. But I, of course, understand if you do not think it is something I could be qualified for.”

  She really hadn’t meant to be manipulative but was nonetheless pleased when he sighed and turned to her with apologies written all over his face.

  “I assure you, my dear Rosabel, it has nothing to do with your qualifications. I am sure you could charm information out of whomever you choose to apply your mind to. But I am not at all comfortable with your getting involved in this matter.”

  “Any more than I already am, you mean,” Rosabel interrupted to add and was further pleased to see colour touching his cheeks.

  “That is correct,” he agreed, his tone tight.

  Rosabel relented. “Very well, Your Grace, I suppose I cannot force you into anything. But do keep me in mind should you require assistance with any female interrogations.”

  “There will be no female interrogations.”

  “So, I’m special, then? That’s somewhat exciting, I suppose.”

  She probably shouldn’t be torturing the man, Rosabel acknowledged, but he had made her highly uncomfortable for much of the day. Really, turnabout was only fair.

  “Of course, you’re special, and not for this reason. You do realize I had no choice, don’t you?”

  Bel sighed softly and reached over, placing her hand lightly on his arm.

  “No, I don’t realize that, Wexford, but never mind about it now. I didn’t mean to make it more difficult for you. It was difficult for me, but I don’t mean to be vengeful. Never mind Prescott or me for now. If you wish for there to be silence so you can mull it all over, that’s fine. I have my own thoughts to think. But if you’d prefer conversation, let us discuss something simpler.”

  “Like what? I don’t need silence. I’d far prefer to chatter with you.”

  Rosabel laughed at his wording.

  “As you know, I’ve pretty much been nowhere, but I’m sure you’ve travelled. Did you take a Grand Tour? Whether you have or not, what has been your favourite place you’ve visited?”

  She was rewarded for her question with his warm smile.

  “I did, in fact, take the Tour. Mine was a
bit abbreviated. Some of my chums were gone for a year or two. Word reached me while I was away about my father’s failing health, so I had to return.”

  “Oh, I’m so sorry. Did you make it back in time?”

  “I did, thank you. I had two months with my father before he passed. I was grateful that I returned. But life has never been so carefree as those seven months abroad. So, my memories and choice of favourite places is a little coloured by that fact. Every place we visited was thrilling and wonderful. I’m not certain if they would be nearly so wonderful if I was to return.”

  Rosabel hummed in response. “I suppose I can understand why that might be the case. It’s like the first visit I can remember making to London. Gunther’s was a marvel when I was a little girl. I know it’s not the same as visiting another country and seeing such marvellous sites, but I understand how time and experience can alter your view of somewhere. And I know what a disappointment it can be when it isn’t as wonderful as you remembered.”

  Bel hadn’t realized she had left her hand still on his sleeve until he transferred his reins to allow himself to reach and pat her hand gently.

  “You do understand,” he agreed with a soft smile.

  “But still, I want to hear about it. Where did you go first?” She paused with a laugh. “I suppose that’s a foolish question. I’m sure you crossed the channel and went to France first.”

  Wexford laughed, too. “Not such a foolish question. Some of the men choose to travel further by sea. The timing of my trip was such that it was safe to go overland, and I didn’t cherish the thought of so long on a ship. But then, to return, I did get on a ship, as I needed to be as fast as possible.”

  “Of course. Did you enjoy France? Are you fluent in French?”

  Rosabel knew she shouldn’t be peppering him with questions but all of a sudden, she couldn’t wait to know everything.

  “Bien sure,” he replied with a wink. “Aren’t you?”

  Bel laughed a little. “Well, supposedly I am, but unless I ever get to visit France, how will I ever know?”

  “I see your point.” Wexford’s glance was filled with sympathy. “I did enjoy France. But Italy and Spain were even better. I suppose it was the lack of rain. And the sense of freedom that increased the further away from home I got.”

  “Did you cross over to Africa? Did you reach the equator?”

  Bel knew her eyes were probably growing to be as big as saucers, but she was thrilled by the thought of seeing such fascinating places and people.

  “The equator was so hot. The desert was something I had never been able to completely imagine. It was far from comfortable, of course, but it was fascinating to see.”

  “To be sure,” Bel agreed. “Did you ride a camel? Or an elephant? Did you see lions and tigers?”

  “Yes, to all of the questions. But that was a disappointment. I didn’t actually see the lions and tigers in their own habitat. They didn’t seem as majestic and fierce as they should have. You’ve probably even seen them when there’s a menagerie here in Town.”

  Bel shook her head. “Her ladyship doesn’t consider it appropriate for her daughters to witness anything that might give them a thrill.”

  “Are you jesting?”

  Rosabel sighed anew. “I wish I was, but no, my mother has a few strange notions. I think she, herself, is afraid of animals so couldn’t bear the thought of taking us to visit them. So, it became a household standard.”

  “If we can find a visiting fair or some such, how about I take you? Surely, she would allow it if you were in my company.”

  Bel shook her head. “That wouldn’t be a kindness, Your Grace. We wouldn’t want her to entertain fanciful ideas any more than she already will after today. But I thank you for the offer.”

  Chapter Fifteen

  James wanted to give his head a shake. He was supposed to be distancing himself from the woman, not offering to take her to see the sites. But her forlorn tone as she explained why she had never seen a lion or other wild animal was the saddest thing he had heard, and he hadn’t been able to stop the words from uttering themselves. His impulse to argue against her refusal was swiftly suppressed. They couldn’t get back to Town soon enough to suit him.

  He needed to get the Prescott matter sorted before he could concentrate on anything else. In that moment, he wished he had cultivated more close friendships than just with Crossley. With Crossley off on his marriage trip, there was no one to discuss matters with. Except maybe his valet. Just as Lady Rosabel confides in her maid, perhaps, James thought, I could muse aloud with my own servant. Or even his secretary. He would trust that man with his life. Brightening, he urged his horses to a swifter pace.

  Realizing that he had allowed the silence to begin to stretch after her comment about her mother, James tried to think of something to talk about. The only thing he could think of was what he discussed with all debutantes, but he wasn’t sure it would go over too well with her.

  “Have there been any aspects of the Season that have been to your liking?”

  “There have, as a matter of fact. For one thing, I do love to dance. And the theatre is a pleasure. We do, of course, have some travelling performances that come through our village, but nothing on par with what we can see in Town.”

  “Which has been your favorite performance?”

  “Oh, that’s a difficult question,” she replied with a grin. “But I might have to say, Cymbeline with Mr. Kemble. I saw it my first Season and have never quite been able to forget it.” She paused for a moment. “Are you a regular at the theatre? Or do you find you are too busy?”

  “I make the time upon occasion. But I cannot say that I am an enthusiastic admirer of Shakespeare. Cymbeline wasn’t too bad, but I’m most certainly not enamoured of his tragedies.”

  “No, I suppose not. You probably see enough trials and tragedy in real life. But what about Twelfth Night?” Rosabel asked.

  “Well, if you can get past all the mistaken identities, I suppose it is a good bit of entertainment.”

  Rosabel’s tinkling laugh warmed his heart, but James made every effort to ignore the sensation.

  “I see that the theatre is not your favourite. Very well, Your Grace, tell me, what do you enjoy about the Season?”

  James shrugged. “It is my duty, not really something I do for pleasure.”

  He couldn’t quite tell what was going through her mind as she stared at him for a moment. With her head tilted as though she were an inquisitive little bird, she looked as though she were trying to read his mind. As they drew closer to Town, James’ attention was required more on the horses since there were more distractions for the horses and traffic to avoid.

  “Do you enjoy helping to run the government?”

  Her question was voiced so low he almost missed it.

  “Why are you hesitant to ask me that?”

  “Why are you once more countering my question with one of your own?” Her smiling face was without rancor, but James felt badly for doing that once more.

  “My apologies, my lady. To answer your question, I do enjoy being involved in the decisions being made by the government. Or rather, I trust my own judgment far more than my fellow lords, so I feel obliged to be involved.”

  “I suppose that’s the true fulfillment of the title noble, is it not? It’s noble of you to put the needs of others ahead of your own preferences and enjoyments.”

  “Thank you for saying so, but I’m not sure if it’s entirely noble. I benefit from the power I garner. And I’m in a position to ensure my family members benefit as well.”

  “There should be some sort of recompense for your time, don’t you think? That doesn’t eliminate the nobility of your actions.”

  James shrugged, feeling bashful under her praise.

  “Why were you hesitant to ask about it?”

  Now Rosabel shrugged. “My father doesn’t like to talk about his work at home. I’m not sure if it’s because he doesn’t want to trouble us with it,
or if he thinks we won’t understand, or if he just doesn’t want to be bothered with it when he’s at home.” She paused for a moment, a rueful expression flitting across her face. “I wasn’t sure if you would appreciate the question.”

  “You can ask me anything,” James vowed.

  Rosabel laughed. “You just might not answer me, right?”

  James joined her in laughter. “I suppose that’s true.” He slowed the horses further as they were now getting into much heavier traffic. “But you could still ask,” he added with a smile. “No one ever really asks me about whether or not I enjoy something. Especially not something that I consider my duty to do. It’s a good question. I don’t think I thoroughly answered your question, as I’ve never really thought about it before. I am involved with the running of the country because it is my duty that I have inherited from my father, and his father before him, and so on. We received our position within Society because of service to the Crown for generations.”

  Rosabel nodded but appeared thoughtful. “So did all the nobles, or as bribes not to go against the Crown, I suppose. But not all the noblemen take it so seriously. Some seem to consider that it was their grandfather’s commitment, not their own, and they cannot be bothered with it.”

  “True. And for the most part, I’m grateful for that.”

  Her tinkle of laughter was quickly followed by a question. “Why would you say that?”

  “If they cannot be bothered to care, they’d be far more trouble than they’re worth, for one thing. For another, some of the lords who care a little but not enough to be bothered themselves, which I might add is many of them, appoint someone to take their place. And those men are usually keen and eager. They are often annoying and ambitious as well, but at least they pay attention and, at least in theory, represent the best intentions toward those they are supposed to represent.”