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

by Wendy May Andrews

  “It all sounds fascinating.” She sounded as though she meant it, which endeared her further to James.

  “You could always watch sometime. Many do attend in the galleries.”

  “I’m not at all certain that my mother would allow it.” She sounded hesitant as she began but then grew in conviction. “Perhaps I shall ask my father. If he agrees, she shan’t gainsay him.”

  James smiled over her sudden enthusiasm.

  “When would be the best time, do you suppose?” Her nose wrinkled in the cutest way as she asked the question.

  “It would depend on what you might be interested in. I will try to find out for you when certain things are to be debated, and you can choose from there.”

  “Thank you, Your Grace,” she murmured, turning away to watch the passing traffic.

  It felt to James as though she had again withdrawn from him. A quick glance revealed that she was again nearly expressionless, with just a small, pleasant smile affixed to her face. Having spent the day with her and having witnessed her true expressions, he now knew with certainty that the lack was a façade to cover her true feelings. He didn’t like to see it, but he understood that it was not intended as an insult to him, as he had taken it that first day they had gone driving. She was a complicated mixture of thoughts and feelings. If only he wasn’t so preoccupied, he thought with a mental sigh.

  The rest of their journey passed in silence as they made their way to the Sherton townhouse. As he pulled to a stop in front, she turned to him with a small, but seemingly genuine smile as she placed her hand briefly on his arm.

  “Thank you for today. It turned out not to be such a disappointment after all.”

  James appreciated the teasing twinkle in her eyes as she said that.

  “Do you think I ought to accompany you to mitigate any censure from the countess?”

  Rosabel sighed. “No, that would only be a kindness to me, but not to my mother. I don’t want her entertaining any ideas. I will be as truthful with her as I can manage without telling her everything that I didn’t tell in the past. She might ring a peal over me, but it’ll be done and over with.”

  Already a footman was hurrying down the stairs toward them. James knew it would be foolish for him to get down to try to lift her down, as she was already turning toward the servant. He placed his hand over hers where it still rested on his arm.

  “We shall see each other soon, I’m sure.”

  The smile she offered him then didn’t quite reach her eyes, and she withdrew her hand without a word. James was inordinately disappointed when she didn’t even turn to wave goodbye when she reached her front door. Without a word or a glance, she disappeared from sight. Even the maid had turned toward him with a slight wave before following her mistress. James had the strongest impulse to pursue her, which he ignored, of course, but it was a close-run thing. James quickly set his horses into motion, heading for home. He needed to dress for court, which would take some time. He was due there sooner than later. It was good they hadn’t lingered in Brixton, James assured himself, even as he tried to shrug off his disappointment in the excursion’s conclusion.

  ∞∞∞

  Pressed and powdered to within an inch of his life, James finally left the gentle ministrations of his valet with just enough time to reach St. James’ Palace. It was a relief that George only held audience three times a week and didn’t require that all his courtiers attend all of them. It was enough of a challenge attending once or twice each week. The necessity to dress as though revisiting a previous century was tiresome, and the formality required at court was straining. But it was what one must do to maintain one’s influence, so Wexford made his way there as often as he could.

  James just hoped Prescott wasn’t there.

  Lord Prescott had been trying to court the king’s support and influence government decisions as long as James could remember. It was one of the first things James’ father had warned him about in those two months they had been able to spend together when James had been pulled home from his Tour. The elder Duke of Wexford had been suspicious of Prescott’s motives but had never been able to prove anything. Now, James was convinced that the underhanded earl was up to no good. Aside from his affront on Rosabel, James knew Prescott was stirring up trouble in the colonies for his own gains.

  Before he had left his house, he had asked Mr. Lewis to look into what had been debated in the House three years before, when Prescott had been so intent on gaining Sherton’s support that he had tried to compromise Rosabel. James reminded himself that he couldn’t think about her right now. It would cloud his judgment and had the potential of making him lose his iron control. And he would need all his faculties if he was going to manage Prescott without injuring the king’s fragile feelings. Ever since the monarch’s recent bout of illness, he had been more sensitive than usual. He would not take well to realizing he had been duped by someone he had been coming to trust.

  James rubbed his forehead, trying to forestall the headache that wanted to gather there, careful not to disturb his powdered hair. It had been comforting to discuss the matter with his valet. It had turned out the man was remarkably informed.

  “You seem tense, Your Grace,” his valet, Charles, had remarked as he deftly twisted James’ necktie into place.

  “It has already been an eventful day,” James commented.

  “And soon to be even more so, I dare say,” Charles remarked as he stepped back to admire his own handiwork.

  James sighed. “I wish you were wrong, but I’m sure you are correct.”

  “Is it Prescott again?”

  “How could you possibly know that?”

  Charles shrugged. “You always pick this colour when you need to be battle ready.”

  “Battle ready? I’ve never considered it thusly, but I suppose you’re right again.”

  “You do realize that the servants know everything.”

  James grinned as he met the other man’s eyes in the mirror. “I do. And I’m reminded of it regularly.”

  “Well then, I’m sure you also realize that yours are remarkably loyal.”

  It had been of comfort to James as he nodded. He had actually felt emotion tickle the back of his throat. Of course, he had ignored it, merely urging Charles to hurry through the rest of his preparations as he needed to be on his way.

  But remembering it now, as he stood on the threshold of King George’s assembly room, it felt as though he were about to step into a pit of vipers. Knowing he had a houseful of dependent supporters at home was a comfort. Yes, the servants were his responsibility, but being reminded that he had their loyalty was reassuring. And strengthening, he realized, as he twitched a cuff into place before stepping confidently into the room.

  Sure enough, Prescott was already there. James stood to the side and watched as the other man, as slippery as an eel, feigned fascination with whatever His Majesty was saying, before launching into speech himself. Suddenly, though, James was pleasantly surprised to see the king frown and shake his head. Prescott wasn’t looking so assured any longer. James felt himself relaxing. He should have had more confidence in his sovereign. The man’s mind was sharp since he had regained his health.

  Chapter Sixteen

  “Was it terrible, m’lady?”

  Rosabel smiled over Sally’s words even though she ached from head to toe. She hadn’t even realized she had become so tense until she was finally able to relax. Reaching toward the ceiling, Rosabel tried to stretch all the kinks from her muscles.

  “Not as bad as I would have expected. But now she has hopes of a match between me and Wexford. So, in a way, that is worse. I tried to tell her I didn’t think he was interested in me like that, that he only wanted my help with his sister, but that didn’t move her in the least. She is convinced that his sister’s visit is merely a ruse.”

  “Well, you can hardly blame her. You thought the same thing.”

  Rosabel laughed a little but flung herself onto her bed. “I’m exh
austed. What a wild ride today has been. I feel as though I could sleep for a week. But we have two different balls we’re promised to tonight.”

  “Perhaps you ought to beg off.”

  “My mother is already put out with me for trying to explain to her that Wexford isn’t courting me. I don’t think she would take kindly to my staying home.”

  “Well, at the very least, you ought to try to have a bit of a nap now. You won’t be able to enjoy the dancing if you’re falling asleep on your feet tonight.”

  “A part of me wants to protest that I don’t need a nap, but I know that’s foolish and untrue, so I will do as you suggest. Please, make sure I’m awake in plenty of time.”

  “To be sure, m’lady,” Sally murmured as she drew the curtains before slipping from the room.

  True to her word, Sally was gently shaking Rosabel awake two hours later. Rosabel sat up feeling bleary and rumpled. But to her delight, Sally lifted the cover off a plate of food just as Rosabel’s stomach announced its needs quite loudly.

  “Thank you, Sally. How much time do I have?”

  “Plenty, my lady,” Sally assured her as she bustled around, shaking out the gown Rosabel was to wear and checking to make sure all the pins were ready for her hair.

  After making quick work of her meal, Rosabel submitted herself to Sally’s capable hands. In very short order she was standing before a mirror casting a critical eye over her person.

  “You never cease to amaze me with your skills, Sally. You would never know to look at me that I felt like I had been run over by a coach and four earlier today.”

  “You’ll be the prettiest one there,” Sally answered, ever loyal.

  “Thank you,” she accepted with a smile as a knock sounded softly at her door. “That’s probably one of the footmen. Everyone else must be waiting for me. I trust you’ll get some rest while I’m gone,” she added with a smile before hurrying out the door.

  Before long, Rosabel found herself on a dance floor, being expertly led by a tall, handsome man she had just been introduced to by their hostess.

  “I’m surprised we’ve never met before now, Mr. Northcott. I thought I was familiar with all Lord Everleigh’s family.”

  “Seeing as I’m the fourth of five sons, it’s not hard to mix us up,” the man answered with a pleasant smile, not seeming in the least put out by the fact that Rosabel hadn’t recognized him. “I’ve also not attended a single Society event in at least five years.”

  “Really?” Rosabel was all the more interested now. “Why is that? Is London not to your taste?”

  “It’s not that. I quite like London, as a matter of fact. But I’ve been travelling a fair bit, for one thing. Since I am, as I said, the fourth son, I have absolutely no expectation of any inheritance, and I had even less desire to marry a fortune, so I needed to make provisions for myself.”

  “And have you now done so to your satisfaction? Is that why you’ve now seen fit to attend this evening?”

  He answered her with an easy grin. “I’m not sure if I’ll ever be completely satisfied, to be perfectly honest. But I certainly won’t be homeless or hungry. As for why I’m here tonight, my sister-in-law demanded my presence. She said if I was going to be staying in Town for a bit, then the least I could do is escort her about from time to time.”

  Bel laughed lightly. “Then why is it me you are dancing with, instead of her?”

  He met her gaze directly, and Rosabel could read approval in his eyes. “She had ladies she wished to visit with, and I wanted to dance with the prettiest woman in the room.”

  Even though she had been on the receiving end of compliments from the cradle, she couldn’t prevent the heat that filled her face in view of his apparent admiration. Thankfully, they were both sufficiently skilled in the dance that neither of them missed the steps, even though Rosabel felt a little flustered.

  Finally, Rosabel thought, a wellborn gentleman who is not in line for a title and doesn’t seem in the least bothered by that fact. Just as she was thinking it, though, the hairs on the back of her neck rose in a disconcerting fashion, and as her eyes scanned the crowds as she and Mr. Northcott circled the room, her gaze landed upon Wexford. She now had an explanation for her strange reaction, but she couldn’t rightly say she was happy about it. Bel suppressed the shiver that threatened as Wexford stared at her. He nodded briefly to her and she tore her gaze away.

  With a blink, Rosabel returned her attention to her dance partner. “You mentioned you have been travelling,” she reminded him. “Where have you been?”

  “Mostly New York, but I’ve also spent time in India.”

  Her eyes widened slightly, but she didn’t miss a step. “Those are widely divergent destinations, I would imagine.”

  Mr. Northcott’s smile was verging on smug. “Not as widely divergent as you would think. And the reason might also explain why you haven’t heard of me. I’m quite vulgar, if you must know.” The jaunty grin that accompanied his words made Rosabel’s eyebrows rise even as she answered his grin with a smile of her own.

  “Vulgar, you say? You hide it well.”

  He lowered his voice and leaned closer, as though to share a secret into her ear. “I’ve involved myself in trade.”

  Her light laugh widened his grin. “Have I shocked you, my lady?”

  “Was that your aim?”

  He shrugged. “I’m just trying to take your stock.”

  Now Rosabel did feel herself stiffening. “Much like a gentleman would check the teeth of their purchase at Tattersalls, Mr. Northcott?”

  His laugh was louder than the voices around them, drawing many eyes toward them. Rosabel contained her sigh but wondered if, perhaps, she had been wrong in thinking a mister would be to her taste. She met his shrewd gaze and was surprised by the intelligent surveillance she received from him.

  “It would seem my sister-in-law was quite correct. My time outside of Society has turned me into the bushman my father has accused me of being. I apologize, my lady. I promise you, under the rough edges, a gentleman does reside. If you would permit it, I would like to take you for a drive tomorrow afternoon.”

  Bel kept her gaze fixed on his face, no longer meeting his eyes, but not allowing her own to stray in search of Wexford either. She offered Mr. Northcott a brief smile.

  “That would be lovely, thank you,” she answered with at least some truth in her words. She wanted to find a mister to court her, she reminded herself, widening her smile a little to lend some enthusiasm to her acceptance of his invitation.

  “I shall look forward to it,” he said as he bowed over her hand at the end of their dance.

  Feeling as though her face was possibly frozen in a questionable expression, Rosabel left the ballroom in search of a retiring room. A quick survey of her reflection showed that nothing was out of order anywhere on her person. Even her face was the right colour, and her expression seemed sufficiently pleasant. But she still felt strangely dissatisfied. She should be delighted. An eligible, charming, handsome man had finally displayed interest in her. And it appeared to be genuine interest in her, rather than her dowry or connections. He didn’t even seem to be thoroughly enraptured with her appearance, despite his comment about wanting to dance with the prettiest woman. It seemed almost like something he said to everyone. Which was actually somewhat charming, in Rosabel’s opinion. Almost as though it was a side point. Like he didn’t really notice appearance and thus said it to everyone. She liked that he wanted to take stock of her, as he said, even though he was rather blunt and forward about it. He was certainly different from the rest of the Society gentlemen she encountered. Which was a good thing, Rosabel reminded herself.

  But he wasn’t Wexford.

  Which also should have been a good thing but was strangely deflating. With one last glance at her reflection, Rosabel shook her head at herself. She was being contradictory and rather ridiculous. Wexford was decidedly not for her. She knew that. He knew that. There was no conceivable reason tha
t he would even enter her thoughts when she was contemplating going for a drive with another gentleman.

  With a final examination and a slight nod, Rosabel returned to the ballroom. She spent the rest of the ball on the dance floor before her mother collected her for their move to the next ball. She assured herself that she was pleased to have avoided Wexford, but she didn’t sense any conviction in the assurance.

  ∞∞∞

  James had arrived late to the ball again. It seemed, at times, that he was always a little behind. Once he found a way to contain Prescott, though, he was sure it would settle down. At least until the next issue cropped up, he thought cynically, as his gaze scanned the assembled crowds.

  As usual, his gaze landed upon Lady Rosabel. She looked well, he was relieved to see. None the worse for wear, it would appear. She did, perhaps, appear a trifle pale, James thought with some concern. He couldn’t quite read her eyes from where he was standing, but it didn’t appear as though there was a great deal of emotion in her expression. That told him that her animation with him that morning had been unusual, and she had returned to her more typical, contained display. On the one hand, it was heart-warming to think she had felt sufficiently comfortable with him to express herself freely, but on the other, he was sad for her that she had returned to her former self of controlled surface expression. He didn’t like it, but there wasn’t much he could do about it.

  While he was watching her and trying not to appear as though he were, James saw Mr. Northcott approach her. The speculative gleam in Rosabel’s eyes made James want to laugh. Finally, a suitable mister had come to claim her. But it wasn’t really a laughing matter, James realized as the handsome couple circled the dance floor. James didn’t know Northcott well, but he knew the Everleigh family well. From what he knew about this younger son, he was a decent fellow. But the thought of Rosabel finally making her match didn’t sit well with James.

  Turning away, unable to watch any longer, James found his way to their host’s library, where he was sure there would be a card table or two set up. Perhaps he might be able to further his own agenda and something of benefit could come out of this fiasco at the very least.