Not Even For a Duke

by A. S. Fenichel

  “That’s Brilliant!” Poppy laughed and clapped her hands.

  Aurora had to agree. “I think I would like to meet Mrs. Hazlett-Barrow.”

  Garrett’s smile sent a bolt of something strange and unfamiliar to the center of Aurora. “I will write to her at my first opportunity.” He sighed low and long. “I suppose, I must go home.”

  Poppy went to him. “You are welcome to stay the night here, Garrett. We shall have a room made up, and you can ride home early in the morning.”

  “As tempting as that sounds, dear Poppy, I cannot run away from my problems or hide from them. Besides, I’ll hardly be finding rest tonight.”

  His pain settled in Aurora’s chest as she rose. “I’ll walk you out.”

  Once he’d said his goodbyes to Poppy and Rhys, Aurora slid her arm through his elbow, and they walked to the foyer.

  “I’m very happy to see you, Rora.” His voice barely above a whisper, she wondered if she’d misheard him.

  “That is kind. I’m very sorry for your loss, Garrett. I hope you will rely on our friendship should you need a shoulder to lean on.” They stopped at the front door. The foyer was empty. She’d never know what came over her at that moment. Turning toward him, she wrapped her arms around his waist and pressed her cheek to his chest.

  The world seemed to stop for a long beat, and then Garrett’s fierce hug enveloped her. His lips pressed to the crown of her head. “Oh, Rora,” he breathed.

  From the shadows, Wimple cleared his throat. “Forgive me, my lady.”

  She dropped her hands and they stepped away from each other. Looking up into Garrett’s eyes she saw frustration or passion, but which she couldn’t guess. Their friendship or his lost father, perhaps. Whatever it was, she didn’t have the nerve to ask. “Forgive me. I don’t know what came over me.”

  The corner of his mouth turned up and hinted at a smile. “Whatever it was, I thank you.”

  Heat flushed up Aurora’s neck and face, and she thought her ears might burst into flames.

  Garrett leaned in and whispered, “If Wimple was not standing in the shadows, I would have been quite unable to stop myself from kissing you, Rora. I don’t think I’ve ever seen you blush before.”

  Stepping back, she lightly slapped his chest. “Don’t be ridiculous.”

  A quick frown tugged at his full lips before he schooled his features and bowed. “I shall see you tomorrow then.”

  “Yes, of course.”

  Wimple strode into the foyer with Garrett’s hat and overcoat. He opened the door. The cool spring breeze gave Aurora gooseflesh. Even so, she stayed by the door until Garrett climbed into the saddle and Wimple closed the door.

  Chapter 2

  A week had passed since his father’s funeral. In London it was already common knowledge that he was now the Duke of Corwin. People stopped him on the street to congratulate him on his new title. Garrett thought the practice rather graceless. After all, his father had died. It was not as if the king had bestowed a new title on his family. He had become the sixth Duke of Corwin because his very good father had dropped dead on the parlor floor.

  He longed to say as much to Lord Darble when he’d given him a hearty punch in the arm for his good fortune, but he just nodded and thanked the imbecile. It was hardly worth the scandal to try to educate someone that ridiculous.

  In the future, he would travel in his carriage with the blinds drawn and avoid speaking to the thoughtless masses. Still, he refused to be sullen since he was going to West Lane and would see Aurora. His foolish heart would not let go of the notion that she was perfection. Even when it was obvious the lady had no interest in him. Yet the impulsive hug she’d given him and her blush told a slightly different story. It was wishful thinking on his part, but he couldn’t help himself.

  Her unexpected marriage to Radcliff had sent Garrett to the Continent for more than three years of wandering. He refused to watch her squired around town by a man not worthy of her.

  Ignoring the wave and smile from Sir John Metcalf, he pretended he’d not seen the portly gentleman. He had only two blocks to go, and refusing to be further delayed, he turned down West Lane, away from the crowds.

  She had hugged him.

  The memory had gotten him through a terrible week. Of her own volition, Aurora had thrown her arms around him and pressed her soft cheek to his chest. Like a boy in short pants, he’d been too stunned to react at first. Then he’d have given every penny he owned to have the moment again without Wimple’s interruption. He’d never been so perfectly content than when they’d shared that embrace, even if it was just for a moment.

  At Aurora’s townhouse, he tied off his horse and took the steps two at a time.

  The butler, Tipton, opened the door before he reached the top. “Your Grace, my lady told me to expect you.”

  “Hello, Tipton. I gather you are well?” Garrett handed the fiercely protective butler his hat and gloves.

  “Tolerably well, Your Grace. They are waiting for you in the ladies’ parlor. If you will follow me?” Without waiting for an answer, Tipton walked to the short hall leading to the informal parlor that the Wallflowers of West Lane preferred for their private sanctuary.

  The house was far different from the first time Garrett had visited. It was less formal. Light streamed into the foyer from the great parlor, and it shone with new furniture and softer draperies.

  Aurora had made the place her own after her husband’s notorious murder at a gaming hell. The man was a fool, but he had been an earl, and his death had made the papers in Italy, where Garrett had been enjoying the sunshine for several months. The news had set him in motion to return to England.

  At the door to the ladies’ parlor, Tipton announced, “The Duke of Corwin.”

  Garrett was aware that several people stood as he entered, but his gaze locked on Aurora. She was in a blue day dress with white lace around the collar and sleeves.

  Her smile was bright, and her eyes clear as she curtsied. “Garrett, you’re here at last.”

  He bowed before crossing the room and taking her hands. “Have you been waiting on me?”

  “We are all desperate to know more about Mrs. Hazlett-Barrow.” Mercedes Heath, the Countess of Castlewick said from his right. Mercy was the last of the Wallflowers to marry. Her rise to countess had been the talk of the ton only last season.

  Looking about, he found himself surrounded by Wallflowers and their spouses. Wesley Renshaw, the Earl of Castlewick smiled warmly at his wife.

  The Duke and Duchess of Breckenridge watched the proceedings. Faith and Nick had married after some very strange circumstances, but Garrett hadn’t yet heard all of those details. He’d visited Aurora once when she was at school in Lucerne. Her three friends had quickly adopted him as a brother and he was glad of it.

  Poppy and Rhys rounded out the group. Garrett’s heart yearned to belong among them in a more permanent way, but his mind flashed back to the way Aurora had dismissed their intimate moment as quickly as she had hugged him. She thought of him like she thought of her brother, and dash it, he would have to live with that.

  “I can invite her to meet you all whenever it is convenient. I assumed that was the reason I have been summoned.”

  Faith stepped forward. “We thought you might need some company, Your Grace. I’m dreadfully sorry to hear about your father.”

  No congratulations. Relief flooded him. “That is very kind of you.”

  He said his felicitations to each of them before waiting for the ladies to sit. He was oddly out of place and comfortable at the same time. “When would you like to meet Helen Hazlett-Barrow? Shall I invite her round for an interview?”

  Aurora pulled a face of distaste. “That sounds dreadful. I hardly think one can get to know a person with an hour chat where they are required to behave perfectly.”

  “Tea then?” Mercy suggested.

  Tapping her finger on her lush lips, Aurora cocked her head. “That would be better, but still might
seem daunting. Why don’t I host a dinner party? We would all be there, and I shall invite Mr. Arafa to make the numbers even. Would that not be more comfortable for everyone?”

  Rhys shook his head. “You are hoping to hire this woman, Rora. I hardly think you need to entertain a person who might be in your employ.”

  “I like the idea.” Wesley’s voice was serious. I think a headmistress should have a higher place in our estimation. If you want to put my name on this school, Aurora, I would wish it to be something special and not a run of the mill establishment.”

  No doubt his wife agreed. She looked at him so besotted that Garrett felt a bit embarrassed to bear witness.

  “I think you will find Mrs. Hazlett-Barrow up to any task, including dinner with the ton. What day did you have in mind?” Garrett would carry a note around the world for Aurora. An invitation to an old friend was a simple task.

  Aurora’s eyes were round as saucers. “You’re a duke, Garrett. I hardly expect you to deliver my mail.”

  “She will have little notion of why a stranger would invite her if I don’t intervene. It’s nothing, Rora. I’m happy to make the introductions.”

  Something unpleasant flashed in Aurora’s clear blue eyes. It left just as quickly. “You are too kind. Do you think Friday will be too soon?”

  He shrugged. “I’ll have to ask the lady.”

  “Are you available?” She stared at him and waited.

  Did she mean the question for the entire room? No one else answered. Garrett had no notion of what was on his agenda, but he knew he would cancel an audience with the king to spend an evening with Aurora. “I will see that I am free.”

  The silence continued.

  Poppy stood and pulled the cord for the butler. “We are also free, Aurora. In case you plan to invite us.”

  The slightest blushed filled her cheeks. She rolled her eyes to cover it. “Of course I know you’re free, Poppy.”

  Tipton entered. “My lady?”

  “Can you ask Cook to please make some tea, Tipton? I’m famished. And if she would include a few of those lovely biscuits?” Poppy made it sound as if she were desperate.

  If he noticed, Tipton gave no indication. He made a smart bow. “I shall see to it, my lady.”

  Once Tipton closed the door, Mercy said, “Poppy, you don’t live here anymore. You should allow Aurora to call for tea.”

  A sweet, bell-like laugh tinkled from Aurora. “I don’t mind if any of you wish to play lady of this house. I’m just happy to have you here every Tuesday.”

  Rhys said, “I’d have thought you would have had enough of us after a week with Poppy and me in the country.”

  “Not yet,” Aurora said with narrowed eyes, as if it were a warning.

  The banter continued, and Garrett was more than pleased to be part of it all. Once the tea arrived, Nicholas Ellsworth, Duke of Breckenridge pulled Aurora to the side.

  Garrett knew it was ungentlemanly, but he strained to hear.

  “You seem much better, Aurora.” Nicholas said.

  “I am feeling more myself. You have been a great help to me.” It was hardly above a whisper, but Aurora sounded genuinely grateful to the duke for some service he’d rendered her.

  Nicholas nodded. “You have done me just as great a turn, Aurora. I don’t think I could have recovered so well this last year without you.”

  The urge to run over and demand to know what they could be speaking of was so great that Garrett had to close his eyes until it passed. Whatever it was, it was none of his business. He had no right to jealousy. Besides, Faith was only across the room, and she didn’t seem the least bit bothered by her husband and close friend stealing away for a private chat.

  To keep himself from total embarrassment and never being invited back to West Lane, Garrett rose and joined Rhys, Wesley, Poppy and Mercy where they sat talking of subjects they might like to see taught at the Castlewick School for Young Ladies.

  Whickette Park, the site of this planned school, was the ancestral home of the Earl of Castlewick. It had been lost to him through an arrangement between his grandfather and the king to keep out of debtors’ prison. Garrett was surprised Wesley, the current Earl, was so keen on this project.

  Mercy said, “I wonder what we shall do when we need other talented instructors.”

  “What do you mean?” Wesley asked.

  “What if a student comes in with a passion for art or music rather than figures or literature?”

  Wesley rubbed his chin. “I’m not planning on moving our household to Cheshire so you can teach pianoforte. Besides, you have your own school here in London to keep you very busy.”

  “I wouldn’t mind going to Cheshire to help, but I prefer town.” Mercy grinned at her husband. “Well, I suppose we shall figure this all out as our students’ needs arise.”

  Garrett picked up on the word our. “Are you joining Aurora in the running of this new school?”

  Wesley drew back his shoulders. “We have decided to not only add funding to the new school, but also lend the Castlewick name to give it more credence. We shall attract fine students.”

  “From all walks of life,” Mercy added.

  Taking his wife’s hand, Wesley kissed her knuckles. “Of course.”

  “I am intrigued,” Garrett admitted. “I think this shall be quite an interesting project.”

  Aurora would have quite a job ahead of her if this school was to be all she hoped. He was even more confident that Helen would be perfect for the job.

  The days between tea on Tuesday and dinner on Friday seemed to drag on for months. Garrett could have called to see Aurora, but he could think of no reason to give for an impromptu visit. At least none that would prevent him from looking like a fool.

  Of course, he was a fool and always had been when it came to his best friend’s sister. As hard as he’d tried to forget her, and as far as he’d run from England, her clear blue eyes, measured smile and wicked, often-hidden sense of humor had followed him.

  He’d barely recognized that his carriage had pulled to a stop until Reggie, his driver, opened the door. “We’ve arrived, Your Grace. Several other carriages are arriving at the same time. Do you wish to wait here until they have pulled away?”

  Shaking himself out of his musings, Garrett looked into the street. Mrs. Helen Hazlett-Barrow was stepping from the carriage ahead of his. “This is fine, Reggie.”

  Exiting, he put his hat on and then went to greet his friend. “Hello, Helen. I’m glad you decided to attend.”

  She curtsied, her bright green eyes alight with mischief. “How could I resist being summoned to a dowager’s house under such a veil of mystery? And having the invitation delivered by a duke was too delicious to decline.”

  “You have not changed one bit, Helen.” He offered her his arm.

  “Would you have me different, Garrett? I am what I am, and that rarely fits into any kind of society.” She was only a few inches shorter than him, and while shapely, she cut a strong figure. Still, he had a hard time imagining how anyone could have mistaken her for a man when she’d lied her way into Oxford. He said as much.

  She shrugged. “People see what they want to see. I created Helmet Barrow, and no one questioned him. My grades were better than all my mates, and you men could never believe a woman was smarter than you. It was easy.”

  “I can’t imagine that is true. You would have had little privacy for...” He was at a loss for what to say. “For whatever it is women do when they need privacy.”

  Helen’s laugh was full and round, lacking any of the normal guile of a debutante. “I managed.”

  Halfway up the steps, the door to the West Lane house opened, and Tipton stood sentinel. “Your Grace, welcome.”

  “This is Mrs. Hazlett-Barrow, Tipton. We are both expected for dinner.”

  For the briefest moment, Tipton’s eyes widened, but then his normal state of dour returned, and Garrett thought he might have imagined the surprise. Helen was formidable e
ven in an evening gown, and despite her decisions to follow a different path than most women, she was extremely pretty. “Please come in. The rest of the guests are gathered in the great parlor.”

  Once they were announced, Garrett escorted Helen into the formal and grand room. Aurora had managed to make the room far more welcoming with lighter rugs and curtains. If he wasn’t mistaken, she had replaced some rather grim wallpaper with a pale cream damask.

  Aurora rushed over, her light green gown hugging her curves and cut low enough to reveal the swell of her breasts. Garrett’s mouth water.

  “Your Grace, I’m so pleased you have arrived.” She made a quick curtsy before turning her attention to Helen. “You must be Mrs. Hazlett-Barrow. Welcome. I’m so happy you could join us.”

  Helen curtsied and accepted Aurora’s hand. “I have to admit I was more than a little surprised to receive your invitation, Countess.”

  “Were you? Has Garrett not informed you of the plot behind my desire to meet you?” Her eyes widened, but her smile remained.

  “I thought it better to leave that task to you, Rora.”

  “Indeed.” She gave him a reproving look. “Do you prefer to be addressed as Mrs. Hazlett-Barrow? I would be honored if you would call me Aurora. We are all quite informal in this group.” She waved her hand toward the Wallflowers and their spouses milling around the parlor, sipping wine and chatting in intimate groups.

  “Thank you, my lady. Helen will do nicely, if you like.” Helen’s smile remained steady, but her shoulders relaxed. She stood a head taller than Aurora, but neither woman seemed to feel intimidated. Not Helen by the titles in the room, nor Aurora by Helen’s stature or past.

  “Let me introduce you to my friends, Helen.”

  “Perhaps you might tell me why I’m here first, Aurora.” Head cocked, Helen asked directly.

  “Of course, you’re right. I don’t want you to think we have some dark secret. You see His Grace tells me you are quite brilliant and also strong minded.”