A Duke in Disguise (Westham Chronicles Book 3)

by Rachel Osborne

  “Why is that?” Edward asked, shifting in his seat and looking directly at Samuel. “I cannot imagine very many young ladies who would prefer to while away their days in Bath when London is on offer.”

  “Perhaps London is not on offer!” Samuel snapped, returning to his letters. Edward became mercifully perceptive, choosing not to pursue the matter and Samuel signed his name with a flourish. His real name, not the assumed moniker he was living under for the duration of this foolhardy trip. It occurred to him that perhaps he would be better served by ending the charade and coming clean, but the notion of just how smug Edward would look were he the one to end their scheme early, forced him to swallow the urge. His manner softened and he spoke a little more gently to his friend.

  “I do not know the whole story, but as I understand it there was some discord between Devereaux and his step-mother. That is Miss Devereaux’s mother, you understand, for the two are but half-related. The second Mrs Devereaux took some dislike to him and orchestrated to have him sent away, or exploited the fact that he left....I forget the pertinent details. Needless to say, she arrived in London not very long after he left it and whilst she had had the good sense not to speak too freely about what happened the gossip still circulates that something must. It is understandable that Devereaux’s sister would not want to come out amidst even a hint of scandal. Here in Bath, she might be relatively unscathed, for who here is even acquainted with her?”

  “Well, you, clearly!” Edward’s grin faltered. “You do not think it will cause us a problem, do you? I met Devereaux only once or twice. Had more association with that friend of his, Lennox. ‘Twould be far more agreeable if he should chance to come to Bath, for he is a marvellous hand at cards.”

  “A marvellous mark, you mean.” Samuel’s voice was gently teasing, for he did not approve of Edward’s gambling, although he would never say as much and be thought a spoilsport. It was not as if his own hobbies marked him as a paragon of virtue, but he thought it far better to play honestly than to cheat a fellow into parting with his money, however obnoxious the fellow happened to be. Clearing his desk, he let out a sigh and stood. “I am a little acquainted with her brother.”

  Edward frowned. His own mind had clearly already left this topic of conversation behind and followed a path of its own, for he needed reminding of whose brother it was that Samuel referred to.

  “Miss Devereaux.” Samuel pushed his chair back under his desk and joined his friend in the seating area, examining his cuffs with more care than they required. “I have met Sir Benjamin once or twice, but know him more by reputation. Undoubtedly he might say the same of me. But as he is not here, I think it unlikely he will put a stop to our ruse.” He swallowed. “You do not care to end it?”

  “No, indeed!” Edward guffawed. “I rather like being the Duke of Edgmont. I dare say you regret not being him at present?”

  Samuel smiled, hoping the expression appeared more genuine than it felt.

  “I am quite content to proceed. It is rather enjoyable not being forced to speak to every person who wishes to curry favour with me.” His smile grew, recollecting just how many dull conversations Edward had been pressed to endure that very morning, whilst he, Samuel, had been free to walk away from all of them. He had enjoyed his solitary tour of the town, stopping and greeting those he met with no thought for appearance, if “the duke” were to be spied making conversation with commoners and tradesman. He wondered if those same commoners and tradesman would have spoken so freely if they had recognised they addressed a member of the nobility. There was a great deal to be grateful for in this scheme, and the opportunity to escape the confines of polite society was but the very beginning.

  A small carriage clock on their rented sideboard chimed and Samuel got to his feet, beckoning for his friend to join him.

  “Well, Edward, let us go, for as you say it would not serve us to arrive late and miss the dancing!” His face brightened in a smile. “I hope you are ready to be the focus of a tussle of would-be sophisticates, seeking to make a conquest of you.”

  Edward tugged his cravat once more, making it even more unruly than it had been previously.

  “It is a cross I am more than willing to bear. I look forward to seeing how well you manage being invisible.” He appraised his friend out of the corner of his eye. “Although you will not be entirely invisible, for I dare say your good looks will still win you a dance or two.” He sighed. “There really is no justice, Samuel. Well, let us be off! I wish to have time to decide which of my would-be sophisticates to select for the first dance.”

  His eyes twinkled wickedly and Samuel groaned, following him out to the waiting carriage.

  Chapter Five

  The new assembly rooms in Bath were quite the most elegant rooms Joanna had ever been to, and still, she found herself wondering how favourably they might compare with London. It was an idle wondering, though, and only momentary, for a moment later Edith pinched her forcefully on the arm, drawing her swiftly and painfully back to the present.

  “Isn’t it beautiful?” she breathed, turning her head so quickly this way and that that she was liable to grow dizzy. “Have you ever seen so many people?”

  This much could not be argued with. Even at the most popular local assemblies in Westham, there had not been this many people, nor rooms so elegant and vast.

  “Girls!” Mrs Barnes hurried towards them, uncomfortably poured into a dress that was surely too small for her. Still, she had agreed to accompany them and been so excited at the prospect of the assembly that Joanna was pleased to see her here. She fanned herself vigorously and Joanna and Edith parted, allowing her to join their small circle. “You do look quite lovely!” Mrs Barnes announced, glancing over each young lady appraisingly in turn. “But Edith, I do wish you would not always stare around you so! Anyone would think you had never been to an assembly before!”

  Edith opened her mouth to protest that she had never been to an assembly in Bath before but Mrs Barnes continued speaking, not allowing her daughter even a moment to get in a word of response.

  “Now, Joanna, dear. Edith tells me you were fortunate enough to form an acquaintance with a duke!” She beamed. “That is quite thrilling! I am sure he will ask you to dance this evening, for you look so very pretty I do not know how he could not.”

  Edith let out a low squeak of complaint, and her mother turned back to her with a dismissive nod.

  “You look very nice too, dear. I am sure you will have plenty of opportunities to dance this evening. But Joanna! I feel very much the absence of your Mama at a time like this, so you must allow me to offer you some advice -”

  What advice Mrs Barnes thought essential to impart to either girl, but especially to Joanna, was never given, though, for at that moment an awed hush fell over the people nearest to them and the crowd parted to allow the Duke of Edgmont and his friend, Mr Nicholls, to enter quite close to where the small Barnes party stood. Joanna’s eyes widened, for the duke was very richly attired, in clothes which must be the very height of London fashion, yet somehow they did not suit him. His shoulders were too tight and his cravat flopped loosely beneath his chin. In fact, his clothes looked as if they had been made with someone entirely different in mind. He did not seem to notice, though, for his eyes scanned the crowd, his lips lifting in a vague smile and a wave of greeting to various people he recognised. Mr Nicholls, beside him, looked rather more comfortable clad in a smart dark suit, which complimented his dark hair. It was he that spotted their party first and abandoned his friend quite abruptly to come and join them, bowing low and greeting each lady in turn.

  “Oh, Mr Nicholls, this is my mother!” Edith cooed, presenting her mother with affection to their new acquaintance.

  “Delighted to meet you, Mrs Barnes. I trust that you are enjoying all that Bath has to offer?” His lips drew up in a concerned smile. “I was given to believe you sought to take advantage of the many health-giving treatments available here. My own dear mother swore by
the baths. Have you visited?”

  “Oh!” Mrs Barnes giggled, transforming before Joanna’s own eyes to a young girl half her actual age and blossoming under this generous attention from the handsome Mr Nicholls. She launched into a detailed description of her daily regime of walks, baths and other convoluted remedies, before segueing into a litany of the many and varied ailments that had precipitated her coming to Bath in the first place. To most gentlemen, such a monologue would have had a stupefying effect, or at the very least, driven them to swiftly seek to change the topic of conversation or excuse themselves altogether. To Joanna’s surprise, though, Mr Nicholls did neither of those things, instead listening carefully to all that Mrs Barnes said and nodding with great care and compassion. He even chipped in once or twice when she paused for breath, to offer his own suggestion of solutions he had learned of or heard friends or family members extoll the virtues of. Mrs Barnes was glowing with delight it was several minutes before she recalled the presence of the two young ladies she had in her charge.

  “Oh, Mr Nicholls! You must not allow me to talk so much! I am given to enthusiasm and here I am talking you to death when you prefer, I am sure, to secure yourself a dancing partner. I see, now, that the musicians are preparing to play for the first piece. It will be the minuet, I expect, as is often the opening dance at the Bath assemblies!”

  Mrs Barnes declared this quite grandly, as if she had attended many such evenings, and Joanna wondered where she had got this bit of intelligence from. It seemed accurate, though, for the first notes reached her ears and people began to take their places.

  “Here!” Mrs Barnes cried, practically shoving Edith forwards. “You will dance with my Edith, I am sure. And who is this elegant gentleman approaching us now? A friend of yours?”

  Mr Nicholls turned, a barely-disguised grimace of regret registering on his features for a fleeting moment, before the Duke of Edgmont strode forward, bowing deeply before Joanna and straightening to regard her with a smile that she privately dubbed simpering before chasing the uncharitable thought away.

  “Miss Devereaux. Might I request the honour of your dancing the minuet with me?”

  There was a moment of unflinching silence and Joanna felt herself under scrutiny from all sides while she made her decision. It ought not to have taken even a moment, and Joanna could see both Edith and her Mama staring askance at her for delaying. Swallowing against a throat that had become suddenly dry, Joanna nodded.

  “Yes. That is very - yes, your grace, I would be honoured.”

  Mrs Barnes could barely contain her delight at seeing not one but both of her young charges swept by handsome, elegant gentlemen into the very first dance of their very first assembly in Bath. She glanced about her, looking for another Mama with whom she might share in her triumph, and, finding none, contented herself with watching the festivities in silence, but starting up once more to fan herself, for the temperature in the assembly rooms had grown stifling already, and she wondered however she would manage to survive the evening in such close quarters with so many other people!

  SAMUEL OUGHT TO HAVE been enjoying himself. Edith was a lively and quick dance partner, even when faced with a minuet. She possessed enough intelligence to make her not uncommon in conversation, too. He ought to have enjoyed being able to listen to her wry and witty observations safe in the knowledge that he was almost entirely unobserved by a perennially watchful crowd of admirers and detractors. He could not, however, and found his eyes all too often being drawn to Edward and Joanna, who danced a few paces away from him and Edith. His friend seemed to be enjoying himself, speaking loudly and punctuating almost every pronouncement he made with a grating, tuneless laugh.

  “Mr Nicholls!” Edith’s pointed whisper caught Samuel’s attention on what must have been her second or third try and he started, swinging his gaze guiltily back to her. Her features showed no reprimand, however, her eyes sparkling with humour and insight.

  “You see it too!” she said, continuing her low-voiced murmur so that nobody but he might hear her words and deduce their meaning.

  Samuel nodded, allowing the steps of the dance to prevent them from continuing their conversation as they parted for a moment. Reunited again, he could bear his ignorance no longer and returned Edith’s whisper with one of his own.

  “See what?”

  “Joanna and the duke!” Edith’s words were triumphant, as was her smile, as if their meaning was so self-evident it required no further explanation. Samuel’s frown deepened, and eventually, Edith put him out of his misery, with a slight note of exasperation. “They are clearly quite smitten with one another already! Have you ever seen a couple more well-suited?”

  It was on the tip of Samuel’s tongue to counter this assertion with any number of pairings who might suit better than Miss Joanna Devereaux and her dancing partner, who was not a duke but his old friend Edward in disguise, but he stopped himself in time, realising that to betray Edward would be to betray himself - and betray more than the particulars of their scheme.

  Mercifully, the minuet, which had never been Samuel’s favourite to dance and had become almost unbearably dreary at Bath’s slow pace, drew to a close and Samuel bowed to Edith, who beamed at him before skipping off to join her friend. Samuel turned, watching to see what Edward might do next and saw his opportunity as his friend paused to accept a compliment from Edith.

  “Miss Devereaux,” Samuel said, striding forward quickly before the moment was lost. “I wonder if you might do me the honour of dancing the next together?”

  Joanna hesitated a moment, and Samuel wondered if he had tipped his hand, exhibited too much enthusiasm for dancing and in particular, for dancing with her. He straightened, unconsciously putting a little more distance between them. There was nothing so very remarkable about Miss Joanna Devereaux, he told himself. I might find any other young lady to dance with if I wish. The thought was hollow at best and he had scarcely formed it fully when Joanna’s merry, musical laugh chased it from his head.

  “Thank you, Mr Nicholls, I would like to.”

  When he risked a glance at her, her features were lifted in a smile, and she dropped her voice to a whisper. “I do hope it will be something with a little more energy to it than the minuet.”

  She feigned a yawn, and Samuel stifled a laugh.

  Perhaps she did not enjoy dancing with Edward as much as she appeared to! Yet if that was the case, it was the fault of the dance, the slow, dolorous minuet, and not his friend. He ought not to rejoice so very much at this non-slight.

  They proceeded to their place as the music began and everyone danced their steps in time to the cheerful jig that had made Joanna smile when she first heard it.

  “This is a favourite in Westham!” she remarked when the dance contrived to bring the pair close enough to speak to one another. “I am surprised it is still popular here!”

  “Westham...” Samuel mused. “That is where you are from, then?”

  Joanna nodded and proceeded to tell him a little bit about the small hamlet she called home, bemoaning its lack of amenities and explaining how happy she was to be in Bath, seeing new things and meeting new people.

  “But not dancing new dances.”

  Samuel could not resist making a joke and he was gratified when Joanna laughed so loudly that she almost lost her footing and was forced to skip a little to catch up, earning a scowl from the young lady next to her, who had almost crashed into her.

  “Perhaps it is a good thing it is not a new dance!” Samuel teased when they were close enough to speak once more. “I dread to think how well you would manage with steps you have not yet learnt...”

  “You distracted me!” Joanna protested. “I hardly think it fair for you to judge my skill on one dance, in any case!”

  “Ah, then we must dance another before the evening is out.”

  Samuel’s tone was light-hearted, but he hoped that Joanna would agree, that he might secure her company for at least one more turn about the flo
or. He liked this clever young lady with the bright eyes and quick smile. She was no fashion plate, comparing her to the elegant ladies he often danced with in London assemblies, who dripped with jewels and lace, but he approved rather more of the simple elegance of Miss Devereaux’s country attire. She did not seem out of place in Bath, as she might have done in London.

  But in London, he reasoned. She would have the influence of her mother and brother to steer her on how best to act, to dress, to think! He could not help but rejoice at the opportunity to see her here, where she might be more herself, less shaped by the opinions of society, who sought always to dictate how one must behave and with whom one might associate. Did he not, himself, feel the freedom of shedding his “London self”, in shedding the name Samuel Rowe?

  As if thinking the name conjured up the man who, for the moment at least, possessed it, Samuel caught sight of Edward, his gaze fixed on the dancing couple. He had not secured himself a partner, as Samuel assumed he would, and he was surprised to see a mild expression of irritation resting on his friend’s usually pleasant features.

  “Tell me, Mr Nicholls,” Joanna said, her question drawing Samuel’s attention back to her and away from his friend. “How long have you known the Duke of Edgmont? Edith and I are so curious to know how you met, and what brings you both to Bath...”

  Chapter Six

  The assembly had been such a high point of their short visit that for the next several days neither Joanna nor Edith could keep from mentioning it for more than a moment or two. Mrs Barnes had joined in their excitement, eagerly offering her own opinion of whether or not she had noticed just how long the duke had looked at Joanna and precisely what it meant that he had invited her to dance twice, one of which being the very first dance of the evening.