“My dear Lady Felicity,” Darius heard her say. “I quite misjudged my niece and must own that I didn’t treat her as well as I ought to have done. I didn’t realize that she and the marquess had fallen in love, you see, and thought she had ideas above her station.”
What the devil was Flick supposed to say in response to such a crass statement?
“I’m sure Leah doesn’t bear any grudges.”
“No, indeed she doesn’t. I have begged her pardon and she’s already forgiven me. Now, all that remains is for you and her to combine forces and persuade the marquess to receive his step-mama.”
Who in the name of Hades did this woman suppose she was?
“I’m not sure that’s possible, Lady Wantage.”
“I know you’re fair-minded, Lady Felicity, and appreciate the efforts your step-mama dedicated to your well-being during your childhood.”
“I fear you misinterpret,” Flick said with cool civility.
“Forgive me if you consider that I speak out of turn but I know my friend doesn’t have it in her to act vindictively. This silly quarrel with your brother should have been repaired long since. And, of course, there’s the welfare of your half-brother and sister to consider.”
Darius had heard enough. He absolutely couldn’t bear for Flick to be pressured in such a vulgar manner, and stepped up to rescue her.
“Good evening, Flick.” He lifted her hand to his lips, his tongue lingering as he kissed the back of it. “Lady Wantage.” He offered the hateful woman the merest inclination of his head. “You must excuse me if I steal Lady Felicity away. I haven’t seen her for an age.”
“By all means.” She waved them away, placed her empty glass on a side table and grabbed a replacement from the tray of a passing footman. “I need to speak to my niece on the matter we were just discussing in any event.”
Left alone with Flick, Darius smiled at her. “Good evening,” he said softly for a second time, caressing her with his eyes.
“Darius.” Her tone was clipped, distant.
“Please accept my apology for not having called before now. My work has claimed all my attention.”
“Now is neither the time nor the place.”
“I can see that I’ve upset you. That wasn’t my intention.”
Flick quirked a brow. “Don’t presume to know any such thing.”
“Flick, I apologize. I’ve barely had a moment for myself.”
“Too occupied to put pen to paper?”
“Some things are better not communicated in that way.”
“If you say so.”
Her coldness cut him to the quick. “Flick, don’t—”
“Truth to tell, I’ve been so occupied myself since Hal and Leah returned that I barely missed you.” She glanced across the room and saw something that required her attention. “Excuse me, please. I believe my uncle has need of me.”
Darius stared after her and sighed, wondering how he could have made such a complete mess of things.
When dinner was announced, Darius wasn’t surprised to find himself placed as far away from Flick as the width of the table permitted. There were thirty people present and Darius was unable to exchange another word with her until after the gentlemen had taken their port and rejoined the ladies.
The duke immediately asked Leah if she would sing. Darius wasn’t a great fan of opera but Leah’s chosen aria was executed with style and enough expertise to bring a lump to his throat. After the prolonged applause died down, another young lady occupied the piano. This was the moment to corner Flick and make a better attempt at an apology. His previous effort had been woefully inadequate, and her coldness had ripped his heart to shreds. He’d hurt her badly and couldn’t leave this house without setting matters to rights, but he must somehow do so without revealing the true reason for his neglect.
He found her in the morning room. She was alone, staring out at the frost-covered garden but, he suspected, not seeing it.
“Flick.”
She started violently and turned quickly at the sound of her name, her flimsy skirts whipping round her ankles. Her eyes were red. God forbid that she was crying over him.
“What do you want, Darius?”
This wasn’t an auspicious start. “To apologize. I wanted to see you desperately but I heard that Hal had returned. I was worried that he would see that...well, you know.”
“Oh, I know perfectly well. You wouldn’t wish to be forced into a union with me, I quite understand that. You were very quick to point out that we’re not actually engaged. Besides, I threw myself at you so it’s all my fault.” She flashed a brittle smile. “Don’t worry, Darius, you owe me nothing.”
He grabbed her shoulders and compelled her to look at him, something she had thus far avoided doing. “Do you really believe that I don’t wish to marry you?”
“Before I came to see you at your chambers, and immediately after that, no one could have convinced me of it. But now?” She shrugged. “Put yourself in my position, Darius. What would you think?”
She had a point. “Do I really mean so little to you?”
She pulled her shoulders from his grasp. “I’d say it was the other way round.”
He made his living through his eloquence but his emotions were too raw for him to find the right words on this occasion. Her beauty, the expectant expression on her lovely face, unbalanced him and he felt as maladroit and lacking in poise as a callow youth. To tell her the absolute truth would be to lose her forever, but he couldn’t bring himself to lie, which left only one course of action open to him.
He pulled her into his arms and kissed her. Their mouths fused and their bodies melded together as though they belonged. A deep, swirling passion gripped Darius as he deepened the kiss and felt Flick’s resistance slip away almost immediately. His erection strained the fabric of his breeches, causing him acute physical pain.
They were both breathing heavily when he reluctantly broke the kiss.
“Now do you understand what you mean to me?”
She blinked up at him. “So why leave me in expectation?”
Darius ran a hand through his hair. “I had a lot of work to finish at the Bailey, cases to try before the holiday. And, of course, Cuthbert’s case to investigate.”
“What have you learned?”
“I have investigators checking all the inns at which the party stayed.” He smiled down at her and twitched her nose. “I have told them to interrogate the ostlers especially.”
“There, you see, I was useful to you after all.”
“Never doubt it.”
“Have you spoken to Peters or Nathbone yet?”
“No.” Trust his beloved to pounce on the one issue he most particularly wanted to avoid. He wished he hadn’t told her anything at all about his investigations. He certainly couldn’t tell her now that the two young men would have been primed by Pallister, and if Darius asked either of them so much as one awkward question, Pallister would know about it at once. Until Darius decided what to do about Pallister, he would avoid antagonizing him in any way. “There was no time and, anyway, it’s something I ought to do personally.”
“I’m surprised you think that way, Darius. There is a certain code of honour among these young men and I’m sure one of them would have the backbone to withstand pressure from Pallister—”
“You think Armstrong’s father will have pressured them?”
His strident tone obviously surprised her. “Of course, if he’s protecting his son.”
“Yes, it’s possible I suppose.” Just for a moment, Darius thought she somehow knew about Pallister’s threats towards her family. Damn it, when he was alone with her it was impossible for him to string two rational thoughts together.
“If one of them had the courage to do the right thing, there would be no need for a trial and Cuthbert and Baker could have been home with their families for Christmas.”
“Would that it could be that simple.”
“I don’t see—�
�
“Flick, consider. If two men held up those coaches and we accept that Armstrong was one of them, then—”
“Then the other must have been Nathbone or Peters,” Flick finished for him, sighing. “Yes, I can quite see that, so we need to discover which one—”
“And I need to kiss you again.”
“Are you trying to distract me?” She tilted her head and offered him a sultry smile that tested his self-restraint to its limit.
“Absolutely.”
He pulled her into his arms and did precisely that, one hand gently tracing the outline of a breast though the thin fabric of her gown. Flick pushed herself into his hand, sighing softly as she returned his kiss, her actions implying that he was completely forgiven.
The sound of footsteps on the tiled floor immediately outside the morning room had them springing apart like the guilty lovers they were. Flick had her back to Darius and was again staring out of the window when Leah walked into the room.
“Oh, I beg your pardon. I didn’t realize anyone was in this room.”
“It’s quite all right. We were about to return to the drawing room.”
“Make sure you call again very soon and let me know the outcome of your investigation,” Flick hissed as the three of them left the room together. “I give you due warning, I won’t be left dangling in the wind for a second time.”
Chapter Eight
On the first day of 1815, Flick and Leah sat in the morning room in companionable silence. They were both a little tired following the constant stream of entertainments Leah had devised to occupy the duke during his visit. That gentleman had protested about the trouble she went to but Flick thought he secretly enjoyed the attention. Flick also suspected that Leah’s determination to entertain him had, in part, been a ploy. She wanted to show Hal she had no intention of being treated as an invalid. Indeed, last night’s celebrations had seen them making merry until the small hours as they welcomed in the new year. It would seem that Hal had finally met his match in all senses of the word.
“Well,” Leah said, hiding a yawn behind her hand. “The duke insists on returning home today. I wish he’d stay a little longer, at least until the weather improves, but he seems determined to go.”
“He can be very stubborn, I’m afraid, but you have brought out a sociable side to his character that I’ve never seen before. He’s certainly enjoyed his stay and I suspect it won’t be so hard to tempt him away from home the next time.”
Leah smiled. “Actually, I’ve enjoyed his society. Calling Mrs. Wilkinson an interfering harridan within her hearing may not have been the most diplomatic way to endear himself to our vicar’s wife, but at least no one can accuse his grace of not speaking his mind.”
“Bah, Mrs. Wilkinson brought it on herself when she presumed to take him to task because his gout precluded him from attending church.” Flick snorted her disdain. “Anyway, Leah, I believe my uncle returns your regard. He doesn’t suffer fools gladly, which would explain why he’s taken such a shine to you.”
“I don’t like the thought of him travelling in this weather.” Leah frowned. “It’s too cold for a long journey and he will likely catch a chill.”
“I wouldn’t worry too much. He’s strong, in spite of his advanced years. Besides,” Flick added, grinning, “I dare say Beth will be relieved to have him go. He seems quite smitten by her.”
Leah laughed. “Yes. It’s fortunate that she’s neither a gold-digger nor the type who hankers for a grand title.”
“Oh, the very idea!” Flick laughed as well. “Poor Beth.”
“You look pale, my dear.” Leah screwed up her eyes and examined Flick’s face more closely. “Are you feeling quite the thing?”
“Oh, I’m fine, don’t fret for me. But I am tired. Your programme of entertainments wasn’t for the faint-hearted. You’re the only one who appears to have sailed through it all unscathed.” Flick shook her head but spoiled her attempts at censure by grinning. “In your condition too.”
“I haven’t observed you being as intimate as usual with Mr. Grantley. Have you two had a disagreement?”
“Your programme allowed no opportunity for intimacies,” Flick said, her smile abruptly fading.
“I’m sorry, I just thought that—”
The door opened and Hal joined them, for which Flick was grateful. She had no wish to discuss Darius with anyone, especially not a person as sharp-witted as Leah. The duke hobbled in beside Hal, leaning heavily on a cane. The ladies rose to curtsey but his grace barely appeared to notice and certainly didn’t acknowledge the gesture. Instead he lowered himself into a chair beside the fire, panting from the effort it took him to settle his bulk in a comfortable position.
“Wretched gout,” he complained. “It’ll be the death of me.”
“Here you are, sir.” Flick positioned a footstool in front of him. He lifted the afflicted limb onto it and sighed with relief.
“Thank you, m’dear.”
“The damp weather probably doesn’t help your condition,” Leah said sympathetically.
“Nothing does and those bloodsuckers who call themselves physicians don’t know what they’re talking about.” The duke snorted. “They recommend that I give up port. Never heard such rot.”
“That recommendation accounting for your sunny disposition and tolerant nature, no doubt,” Hal said, his lips twitching.
“Damned impudence.” But the duke spoke with affection. “However, I’ll overlook your impertinence since I have a request to make.”
“Oh yes?” Hal quirked a brow. “I’m not sure I like the sound of that. Your requests usually result in all sorts of upheavals.”
The duke didn’t appear to hear Hal’s words. Instead he cleared his throat several times before speaking in what for him was a remarkably subservient voice. “Hate asking people for things,” he grumbled.
“We’re not people, your grace,” Leah said softly. “We’re your family and it would be our pleasure to help you in any way that we can.”
“Ask away,” Hal said at the same time.
He seated himself beside his wife and ran his arm along the back of the sofa, tangling one of her escaped curls round his index finger in an intimate manner that made Flick envious of their closeness. Would the day ever dawn when she and Darius could demonstrate spontaneous affection in public? Damn his silly pride. Why couldn’t he just accept that she loved him without reservation and make use of her dowry.
“Well, the fact of the matter is,” the duke said hesitatingly, bringing Flick’s attention back to him, “that my two youngest children—dashed fond of them, I am—are almost of an age to be introduced into society.”
“And you’d like us to sponsor them,” Leah said, smiling. “It would be our pleasure, wouldn’t it, Hal?”
“Absolutely.”
“Thank you.” Worry lines cleared from the duke’s weathered features. “I’ve acknowledged them as mine and so they have the protection of both my name and my money. Unfortunately there’s nothing I can do to legitimise them, or to give them titles, much as I’d like to.”
“Even so,” Hal said. “If we introduce them to society and it’s generally known that you recognize them, then they won’t be turned away by anyone of consequence.”
“How old are they?” Flick asked.
“Matthew is almost seventeen. He’s in his final year at Winchester and hopes to go on to Oxford after that. Amelia, the little minx,” he added, his expression softening, “is fifteen.”
“A little young for society then,” Leah said.
“Yes, but she needs to be better prepared for it than she is now. The thing is, I wondered if they could spend the summer at the Hall, getting used to the way things are done in elegant houses. They’ve lived with me since their mother passed away but I’m a bit of a recluse and they never see anyone.”
“You could have company every day of the week,” Hal said, smiling. “It’s only because you don’t put yourself out and are so r
ude to anyone who does call that people are scared to come anywhere near you.”
The duke grunted. “True enough, but I can’t abide stupidity and most of my neighbours are three farthings short of a shilling. I’d rather spend my evenings alone than listen to them wittering on about subjects they’re not qualified to voice an opinion upon.”
“For once,” Hal said, “I agree with you.”
Flick released the breath she’d been holding. One could never be sure how the duke would react when a person stood up to him. She’d forgotten that Hal was one of the few who could get away with speaking his mind to their uncle.
“Matthew does well enough for friends at school,” the duke said. “He’s an easygoing lad and people seem to like him. He wants to go into medicine, goodness knows why. Still, maybe he’ll be able to help people with their blasted gout.” He groaned, as though speaking of his affliction made his own condition more painful. “Still, can’t do a worse job than the current lot, I suppose.”
“If you rested more, uncle,” Flick suggested, “then perhaps—”
“Bah, plenty of time to rest when I turn my toes up.”
“Don’t talk like that,” Flick said crossly. “I can’t bear to think about it.”
“Tell us about your daughter,” Leah said hastily.
The duke smiled. “I feel sorry for the chit. Amelia only has a governess and me for company, which can’t be much fun for someone as lively as she is.”
“Then they must come here, mustn’t they, Hal?” Flick said, sympathetic towards Amelia’s plight since in many ways it reflected her own loneliness during her younger years. “Goodness, I had no sisters at all and longed for one. Now I suddenly seem to have lots of them.” She clapped her hands and managed a genuine smile. “Not that Amelia is my sister, of course, but I shall treat her as such, and I’m already looking forward to meeting her.”
“You’re a good girl,” the duke said, reaching forward to pat her knee.
“I’ll write to Amelia today and tell her how much fun we shall have together.”
Beguiling the Barrister Page 10