No Other Duke But You--A Playful Brides Novel

by Valerie Bowman

  The smile remained on Delilah’s face as she took him in from head to toe. He was the furthest thing from a Puck a man could possibly be. “There you are, Thomas. I thought I wouldn’t see you today.”

  “I finished the meeting with my solicitor early,” he replied, dropping his armful of paper leaves on the settee. “I wanted to see what else we need for the set. I also have a business proposition for the two of you. That is, if you’ll allow me to play the role of Puck instead of Demetrius.”

  “It’s far too late for that. You cannot be Puck,” Lucy replied, waving a finger at him. “Cade has already memorized all the lines.”

  “Besides, you’re a perfectly swoon-worthy Demetrius,” Delilah assured him, gathering the leaves from the settee and depositing them next to the donkey ears on the table nearby.

  Thomas cocked his head to the side. “Always thought Demetrius was more of an ass than Nick Bottom.”

  Delilah laughed and shook her head. “It’s a play for charity, Thomas. And we’re only doing the one performance.”

  Thomas shrugged. “Very well. Demetrius, it is.”

  “Thank you for being so agreeable.” Delilah bit her lip. “I only hope my mother doesn’t disown me when she finds out what I’ve been up to.”

  Lucy’s face turned tender. She touched Delilah’s shoulder. “Oh, dear. Your mother’s always threatening to disown you for one thing or another. I daresay this will hardly register.”

  “Yes, but still, becoming an actress isn’t something that will endear me to her. Not to mention Lord Hilton has been coming around more and more of late. I believe he’s on the verge of making an offer, and she won’t like anything that might cause him not to. For instance, having an actress for a daughter.”

  Lucy waved a hand in the air. “Who is an actress? We are putting on a one-time performance for charity at my country house, and the only way to see it is to offer a large sum to the Royal Society. It’s not as if we’re selling tickets at Covent Garden, for heaven’s sake.”

  Delilah sighed, sinking onto the settee. “I know, but Mother remains the most difficult person in the world to please. If she’s not rebuking me for my lack of patience and decorum, she’s displeased that I’ve got through the last five Seasons with nary an offer.”

  Lucy rolled her eyes. “Who cares? You don’t want any offer. You want a good one. Besides, I didn’t have any offers my first several Seasons, and I ended up marrying a duke.”

  “I’ve tried to tell her that,” Delilah replied. “She’s not convinced.”

  Lucy plucked at her green cap sleeve. “Not to mention you’ve spent the last few Seasons helping your friends find good matches because you are loving and caring and excellent at matchmaking. You’ve been trained by the best.”

  “Wasn’t she trained by you, Lucy?” Thomas asked, grinning. He toyed with the donkey ears as they spoke.

  Lucy settled onto the settee next to Delilah. “Precisely my point.”

  Delilah poked at her coiffure with the tip of the quill. “Yes, but Mother insists I stop trying to matchmake others this Season and focus on myself.”

  “Really?” Thomas dropped the donkey ears he was fooling with.

  A wide smile spread across Lucy’s face, and she clasped her hands together. “Are you quite serious?”

  Delilah nodded, uneasiness roiling through her middle. “Yes. And I agreed. I blame it on the crystal bowl.”

  “The crystal bowl?” Thomas echoed, frowning.

  Delilah winced. “I was trying to collect a squirrel from the foyer and ended up breaking Mother’s crystal bowl. Afterward, I was so flustered I believe I would have agreed to anything she asked of me.”

  Lucy hugged her friend with glee as she exclaimed, “Oh, Delilah, I’ve been waiting for years for you to tell me you’re ready to find a husband. I could not be more thrilled. Now, who are the prospects?”

  “Yes,” Thomas said, his tone droll. He threw himself into the chair next to Delilah, stretched out his long legs, and batted his eyelashes at her in an overly dramatic fashion. “I’m on tenterhooks. Who are the prospects?”

  Delilah shoved at Thomas’s shoulder. “Do not make fun of me. You may not believe in marriage, but I have always been a proponent of it, and I must marry.”

  “I never said I didn’t believe in it,” Thomas replied, tugging at his cuff and still smiling. “I merely said I wasn’t interested in rushing into it. And that’s almost always after the two of you have begged me to allow you to matchmake for me.”

  Delilah rolled her eyes at him. “You’re a duke, for heaven’s sake, and you won’t allow us to find you a duchess! It’s positively maddening.”

  Lucy dismissed Thomas with another wave of her hand. “Don’t let him dissuade you, dear. We’ll find you an excellent match. In fact, I intend to make it my first priority for the remainder of the Season.”

  The look of pure joy on Lucy’s face made Delilah laugh. “Had I known you’d be this delighted, I might have searched for a husband three Seasons ago.”

  “Nonsense.” Lucy took the cast list and quill from Delilah’s hands and set them back on the desk. “Three Seasons ago, we were hard at work bringing Lady Eleanor Rothschild together with the Marquess of Hinsdale.”

  “That was an excellent match,” Delilah replied, nodding. “Those two are ever so happy together, and now they have baby Theodora and—”

  “Ahem.” Thomas cleared his throat. “I believe Her Grace asked you a question. Who are the prospects for your match, Delilah?”

  “Yes, that’s right.” Delilah wandered over to the pile of costumes Danielle had created and picked up a glittery gold fairy wing. She turned to look at her two friends, a catlike smile on her face. “I’ve been such a disappointment to Mother. There’s only one prospect.”

  Lucy furrowed her brow. “What do you mean?”

  Thomas leaned heavily over the arm of his chair. “Yes, what exactly do you mean?”

  Delilah twirled the wing in a circle. “I’ve decided to set my sights on the suitor who’ll duly impress Mother. The most eligible bachelor in the ton this Season.”

  She didn’t miss the skeptical glances Lucy and Thomas exchanged. Neither of them thought much of her mother. Or Mother’s opinions.

  “The most eligible bachelor of the Season?” Lucy echoed. “Who is that?”

  Delilah stopped spinning the wing and allowed a small smile to pop to her lips. “The Duke of Branville, bien sûr.”

  “Branville!” Lucy exclaimed with a little gasp.

  “What? Don’t you think he’s eligible?” Worry skittered through Delilah’s middle. She needed Lucy’s help to accomplish this feat.

  Lucy blinked rapidly. “Yes. Of course he is eligible.”

  “He’s also rich and handsome,” Delilah added, carefully watching Lucy’s face.

  “I hear he’s funny too,” Lucy continued.

  “I don’t think he’s particularly funny,” Thomas interjected, a frown on his face. He stood and made his way to the window, looking out with great interest at something, as though the discussion did not hold his attention one bit.

  “What’s wrong with Branville?” Delilah asked Lucy, pointedly ignoring Thomas’s remark.

  Lucy glanced away, a hint of guilt in her eyes. “I … simply had no idea you would set your sights on him. And there … may be a problem.”

  “A problem? What problem?” Delilah’s heart thumped faster. She leaned closer to Lucy and searched her face.

  Lucy bit the end of her fingernail. “I recently learned that this Season’s most eligible debutante, Lady Emmaline Rochester, has set her sights on Branville.”

  “Oh, no!” The sick feeling grew in Delilah’s middle. Lady Emmaline Rochester was a diamond of the first water. She’d been cleverly entertaining a variety of suitors all Season and hadn’t yet appeared to settle on any one of them.

  “If I were you, I’d let her have him.” Thomas’s voice was grumbly.

  Delilah sank to the ne
arby settee, still grasping the fairy wing. “I wish I had known that before I spoke with Mother this morning. I sort of … that is to say, I did promise her I’d secure an offer from Branville.” She bit her lip. “By my birthday.”

  “Merely because he’s purported to be the most eligible bachelor of the Season?” Thomas uttered a sound of derision in his throat and turned from the window to face her.

  Delilah nodded miserably. “You know how I get when Mother issues a challenge. She said I’m to marry Clarence Hilton if I cannot secure a better match.”

  Thomas clenched his jaw. “You cannot be serious.”

  “Not to worry.” Lucy folded her hands in her lap. “These things always have a way of working out. For all we know, Lady Emmaline is not Branville’s sort.” But a hint of concern sounded in her voice when she added, “When is your birthday again, dear?”

  Delilah placed a hand on her roiling belly. She was certain she would cast up her accounts. “July twenty-first. The same night as our performance.”

  “Excellent.” Lucy lifted her chin and presented a confident smile, the authenticity of which Delilah utterly doubted. “That will be plenty of time. You’ll have me, Cass, Jane, and all of our other friends helping you. You cannot possibly fail. Besides, you know how much I love a challenge.”

  Delilah searched Lucy’s face for the truth behind the bravado. “What about Lady Emmaline?”

  Lucy shrugged. “What about her?”

  “She’s gorgeous and accomplished,” Delilah replied.

  “So what, dear?” Lucy blinked at her.

  “So … I’m … not. That’s quite a large problem, don’t you think?” Delilah crossed her arms over her chest.

  Lucy waved a hand in the air again. “Problems, large and small, have never stopped us before. We mustn’t allow this one to. Be bold, I like to say.”

  “You two never fail to amaze me.” Thomas threw himself into the chair again and blew out a breath of mild disgust.

  “Thank you, dear.” Lucy patted Thomas on the shoulder.

  “I didn’t mean that as a compliment,” Thomas replied.

  She winked at him. “Perhaps not, but I took it as one. I think all statements should be taken as compliments whenever possible.”

  “But I’m hardly competition against Lady Emmaline,” Delilah said. “I’m inelegant, impatient, clumsy, and—let’s see, what else does Mother say?—oh, yes, ungraceful.” She counted off each fault on a finger.

  “Rubbish,” Thomas mumbled.

  “That is not true, dear.” Lucy pushed a dark curl away from her forehead. “Besides, I was hardly what anyone would call accomplished, and, again, I managed to marry a duke.”

  “With all due respect to His Grace,” Delilah replied, “Derek is hardly your average duke.”

  Thomas laughed aloud at that. “What, pray tell, is an average duke?”

  Delilah turned her head sharply to the side to eye Thomas. “You know perfectly well what I mean. The Duke of Branville comes from a long line of dukes who look for certain attributes in their future wives. If you were looking for a wife, I daresay you’d be looking for the same attributes.”

  “And being ‘accomplished’ is one of those attributes?” Thomas asked, skepticism on his face.

  “Of course it is. You know it’s true,” Delilah replied with an impatient sigh.

  “Wait a moment, dear.” Lucy pointed a finger in the air. “If average dukes are looking for accomplished wives, what do you contend Derek was looking for?”

  Delilah turned to Lucy. “I merely meant that Derek was given his title due to his valiance in battle, and while he is a highly respected war hero, he hardly had the same exacting standards when it came to choosing a wife, which is why he loves you while you’re so … unconventional.” She patted Lucy’s hand. “With absolutely no intention of offending you, Lucy, because you know how much j’adore you.”

  “No offense taken, dear. I suppose you and I are both unconventional. We’re quite alike when you think on it.” Lucy tapped a finger against her cheek again. “Which gives me an idea.”

  “What?” Delilah asked, straightening.

  “I’m on tenterhooks again,” Thomas added dryly, tugging at his cuff once more.

  “Obviously, what we must do is find an unconventional duke.” Lucy’s eyes twinkled with laughter. “One such as Derek who will appreciate your, ahem, uniqueness.”

  Delilah rubbed the back of her hand across her forehead. “That would be a wonderful idea if I hadn’t already told my mother that I would secure an offer from the Duke of Branville.”

  Lucy patted Delilah’s shoulder. “I completely understand, dear. If I’d said something like that to my mother, I would die trying to accomplish it too.”

  “You’ve both gone mad,” Thomas interjected.

  “No, we’re merely determined,” Lucy replied. “Don’t confuse the two.” She turned back to Delilah. “Very well. If it’s Branville you must have, then we shall employ every skill in our matchmaking arsenal to bring him up to scratch.”

  Delilah opened her mouth. “But what about—?”

  “No!” Lucy held up a quelling finger. “We mustn’t focus on the problems, dear. We must focus on the positives.” She cleared her throat. “To that end, what do you have going for yourself that Lady Emmaline does not?”

  Delilah scrunched up her nose and contemplated the matter for a few moments.

  “I honestly cannot believe I’m listening to this conversation.” Thomas rubbed his temple. “If this is how ladies attempt to secure their matches, I’m frightened for my future.”

  Lucy shot him a conspiratorial glance. “Come now, Thomas. You mustn’t run off and tell our secrets. That’s the price you pay for having a close friend who is a matchmaker.”

  Thomas poked out his cheek with his tongue. “I suppose you have a point.”

  Delilah snapped her fingers. “I thought of something. While Lady Emmaline comes from a good family, mine is older, and my father was an earl while hers is a viscount. Not to mention I’m told I have an indecently large dowry and a healthy dose of spunk.”

  “You don’t want to be loved for your dowry, Delilah. That’s preposterous,” Thomas said, disgust sounding in his voice again.

  “Of course I don’t,” Delilah replied. “But I must use every advantage I have if I’m to win in a battle against Emmaline Rochester.”

  Lucy nodded and smiled. “Very well. That’s perfect, dear. What else?”

  Thomas crossed his arms over his chest and stared at them. “Truly?”

  Delilah pushed her nose in the air. “If you’re going to sit there and eavesdrop, Thomas, be helpful and think of ways in which I can compete with Lady Emmaline.”

  Thomas tossed a hand in the air. “I can think of a hundred reasons why you’re better than Lady Emmaline.”

  “Now I’m on tenterhooks,” Delilah replied, blinking at him. “Do tell.”

  Thomas scrubbed a hand through his hair. “You’re funny, you’re honest, and you’re loyal to name three.”

  “That’s true,” Delilah agreed. “Lucy, perhaps we should be writing these down. Wait. I thought of another one,” Delilah nearly shouted, pointing her finger at Lucy.

  “Ooh, what is it, dear?” Lucy rubbed her hands together.

  Delilah smoothed a hand over her unruly hair. “I am clever. I can only hope that cleverness counts for more than decorum in the game of love.”

  “Clever?” Thomas’s frown included an eye roll.

  “Yes,” Delilah replied. “You know—cunning, wily, crafty?”

  “I’m familiar with the word,” Thomas replied. “But I don’t see what that has to do with marriage.”

  Lucy shook her head at him. “So naïve.”

  “I’m naïve?” Thomas pointed at his chest.

  “Yes, if you don’t think cleverness and craft are involved in matchmaking, I’d say you’re quite naïve,” Lucy replied.

  “Matchmaking and marriage are two dif
ferent things,” Thomas retorted.

  Delilah exchanged an exasperated look with Lucy, then she nodded and patted Thomas on the shoulder. “I’m afraid Lucy’s right, Thomas. You’d best leave the matchmaking to the experienced matchmakers.” She turned back to Lucy. “You said to focus on the positives. In addition to my family, my dowry, and my cleverness, I intend to convince the Duke of Branville that I’m exactly the sort of unconventional lady he should like to marry.”

  Thomas groaned and rose to his feet. “That’s it. I can no longer listen to this nonsense.”

  Lucy sighed. “No matter. We’re done with the conversation for the moment.” She turned to face the room and the rest of its occupants who had been quietly going about their business. She raised her voice so all could hear. “Everyone, now that the performance is getting closer, we intend to have rehearsal here three times a week instead of twice, before we go to my country house next month, where we’ll practice for a day or two before the final performance.”

  There was a murmur of assent and approval from the group before they returned to their duties. Delilah allowed a wide smile to spread across her face. She glanced at Thomas first, then Lucy. “I have only a month to secure two goals. Ensure this production comes off without a hitch, and secure a proposal from the Duke of Branville.”

  Thomas cleared his throat. “Wait. There’s something I forgot to add. Three.”

  Delilah and Lucy both blinked at him. “Three what?” they asked simultaneously.

  Thomas scratched his cheek. “Three goals. Before you began this ridiculousness about Branville, I intended to ask you to secure a match for Lavinia as well.”

  “Lavinia!” Both ladies stared at him in shocked horror.

  He stuck his hands into his pockets, a sheepish look on his face. “Yes. She’s demanded it of me.”

  Delilah shook her head and blew out a deep breath. “I’m not certain we can—”

  “Hold on, dear,” Lucy replied. “As you recently pointed out, we are experienced matchmakers. And I just said how much I love a good challenge. If anyone can find a match for Lavinia Hobbs, it’s us, don’t you think?”