Only a Lady Will Do: To Marry a Rogue, Book 5

by Gill, Tamara

  Iris smiled, unable not to at the thought of such entertainment. "We will be attending. I have never seen fireworks, but how marvelous I shall tonight."

  "Hmm, yes, dear. And is the duke also accompanying you?" Lady Sophie asked, glancing over her shoulder.

  Iris did also and found the duke watching them. "I am uncertain if His Grace is attending." Which was the truth. His Grace had not stated either way, to her at least.

  Lady Sophie waved a footman over and took two glasses of Madeira, handing her one. "Well, no mind if he does not, you shall be there, and I'm certain we're to be great friends. Like you, I too am not the youngest debutante treading the boards this year. I spent several years in Spain living with my brother before returning home to do the pretty for my parents. They wish for me to marry, and so like you, I too am here to find a husband. But are they not the hardest objects to find?" she teased, laughing up at the duke who was now in conversation with Lord Hammilyn. "They do seem elusive. At least, I have had no luck so far, but the Season is young. I'm sure we shall both secure admirers at some point."

  "I'm sure you are right," Iris agreed.

  Lady Sophie sipped her Madeira, watching the duke over the rim of her glass. An uncomfortable, annoyed feeling settled in Iris's stomach at her fixation on the duke. Did Lady Sophie want the duke for herself? The thought of a union between them should not disassemble her so much, yet the churning in the pit of her stomach told her otherwise.

  "Do you know the Worthingham's well?" Iris asked, her curiosity getting the better of her.

  "We spent time together last year at my parents’ home in Hampshire. I do not mind in telling you, since we are already friends, that I had thought the duke would propose. But he did state that he wished for me to have a Season. So, here I am, having a Season and waiting with bated breath as to when he may call."

  So they were all but engaged!

  Iris studied Lady Sophie, unable to believe such a tale. The duke, from her limited knowledge of him, was honorable and kind. He would not lead any lady with the belief of a union. What was Lady Sophie trying to do by telling her such a story?

  "I wish you well in your endeavors," she said, sipping her drink. "But surely the duke is not the only peer in London who has caught your attention. You're a beautiful woman. I'm sure many men are chasing you all over London."

  Lady Sophie released a tinkling laugh, and ice shivered down her spine. What was it about this lady that she distrusted? She did not know her at all, yet she would guard her words and actions when around Lady Sophie. She did not want to make an enemy of her. That would be the worst outcome of her time in London. But nor would she be a close confidant either.

  "There are, of course, but none of them are dukes." Lady Sophie grinned just as a footman announced the opera was about to restart. "I will see you at the ball, Miss Cooper. We shall continue our association there."

  Iris nodded, a smile wedged on her lips, one even she could feel was not genuine. She hoped Lady Sophie could not tell. "I look forward to it," she called after her, not the least excited about the prospect.

  Chapter 9

  The opera was everything that Iris wished it to be, and it was over before she realized it. They were one of the first to leave, the ducal carriage rolling up before Theater Royal, Drury Lane. The duke helped his mother before turning and taking her hand, helping her step into the vehicle.

  Her gown caught beneath her shoe, and she slipped, but before her leg scraped down the carriage step, the duke was there, his strong, warm arms wrapped about her waist, stopping her downward trajectory.

  Her body burned at his touch, his warm breath grazing her cheek. She steadied herself with her hands against his chest, her mind screeching to a halt at the chiseled, hardened muscles beneath her palms.

  She breathed in his sweet apple scent, moving away as fast as she could before anyone noticed that she thoroughly enjoyed being rescued by His Grace, and before his mother!

  Worse, however was now that she had touched him once, it would not be enough, that she would crave the feel of him from this night on.

  Iris met the dowager's concerned gaze, releasing a shaky breath that the duchess had not noticed Iris's reaction to her son.

  Not that she would ever dare wish for more from the man. He was not for her. He would marry a lady far above her status, if not wealth. A woman who struggled to walk on the coldest of days, who did look as if she had been in a tavern brawl, was not his intended. His wife would be perfect, unblemished from life—a diamond among paste.

  She was not that lady.

  "Are you injured, my dear? Do take care. The steps can become slippery with a little dust upon them."

  "I am quite well," she assured the dowager, trying once again to enter the equipage without causing injury to herself or anyone else.

  The duke followed them and sat across from her, his gaze fixed on the outdoors before he thumped the roof, and they were off. His attention moved from the passing shop fronts and homes that lined the London streets and collided with hers.

  Iris's heart thumped hard in her chest. His dark, hooded gaze did not shift, and she had the oddest feeling he was contemplating something. Was he debating now joining them at the ball? She supposed now that he had seen Lady Sophie again mayhap that had changed his mind.

  Iris dismissed the thought as soon as she had it. She did not want to think of Lady Sophie or any other lady for that matter, so long as he kept looking at her as he now did. Like a man overrun with concupiscence. With wants and needs that she may be able to meet.

  Not that she knew anything about such emotions, but she had caught glimpses of such looks from her betrothed before he passed.

  What those looks meant, however, with Penworth, she could not say. Possibly, he could not either.

  She sighed, breaking eye contact, and studied her hands in her lap instead. It wasn't very reasonable of her to believe he would contemplate anything with her. He was looking out for her. Helping her navigate the Season now that she was having another after so long away from London.

  There was nothing to his look other than companionable friendship.

  "I will attend McCalter's midnight ball with you after all."

  The dowager looked at her son, clearly surprised by this turn of events. "How lovely, my dear. But I feel I must warn you there will be ladies present who will wish to dance."

  He shrugged, his attention once more on the passing city outside the carriage windows. "It is too early to return to my lodgings, and I have no other commitment. Moore said he would also be in attendance with Isolde. We shall make a merry group."

  Iris could not agree more. How lovely for the Worthinghams to have such a close family. The five siblings certainly seemed fond of each other. As an only child, she had longed for a sibling, but alas, her mama had never borne one. That her mother was also an only child, cousins were but a dream too.

  "Will any of your other sisters attend this year?" she asked, wanting to feel at ease after the odd looks from the duke only minutes before. Her stomach fluttered still, which would never do. She would not allow herself to dream, to hope for anything more with the duke. His family having already been more than welcoming and helpful.

  "We may see Elizabeth, but Victoria and Alice will not be in town. When the Season draws to a close, I'm traveling back to Scotland to spend time with my eldest daughter, Elizabeth."

  The duke made a scoffing sound, and Iris looked at him curiously.

  "Do not scoff, Your Grace. You are friends with Muir. No need for any animosity."

  Curiouser and curiouser. Whatever happened between them, she couldn't help but wonder.

  The duke raised his brow, attempting to look down his nose at his mother, and failing miserably with the steely gaze his parent shot back at him. "That is debatable. Friends may be too broad a term."

  "You do not like him because he defended himself when you flew at him with your fists." The duchess turned to Iris. "My son, you see, is a little
overprotective of his sisters, and Elizabeth had been hurt by Muir years before their marriage. His Grace could not forgive as easily as Elizabeth."

  "They are happily married now?" Iris asked, looking forward to the day she may meet the duke's sister, all of them in fact.

  "Oh yes, for many years now. Muir is a Scottish earl."

  "I would like to travel to Scotland, although I have heard it is terribly cold."

  "Your husband may treat you, Miss Cooper. When you find him, you shall have to ensure it is part of the marriage contracts."

  Iris nodded, pinning a smile to her lips at the duke's words. His statement filled her with disappointment. The idea that he had meant anything by his heated gazes was a silly notion she would not allow herself to have again. His statement had put paid to such fanciful thoughts. While she may wish for more, he certainly was not reflecting in that way.

  The carriage rolled to a stop before the McCalter's townhouse. The home was lit like a beacon of light, shining brightest in the dim street. Carriages lined both sides of the road, and people were everywhere as they made their way toward the entrance.

  They, too, stepped down from the carriage, making their way toward the house. Iris was jostled and separated from the duchess, who moved forward, unaware of what had happened. She came up to the door, and a footman stepped in front of her, halting her progress.

  "Do you have an invitation? All guests must be accounted for," he stated, glancing at her hands that were empty.

  "I'm here with the Dowager Duchess of Penworth and her son the duke." Iris pointed to the duchess, who was now speaking to the hostess, unaware that Iris was not at her side.

  The footman raised one mocking brow. "Her Grace does not seem to be missing her companion. Please move aside, and make way for the other invited guests."

  He looked past her, dismissing her. Iris gasped, heat burning her cheeks. She stepped aside, unsure what she should do next. Should she try to track down the carriage or find a Hackney cab and return home?

  "Miss Cooper is with me." A deep baritone sounded behind her.

  Penworth placed her hand on his arm and walked past the gaping footman without a by your leave. Iris glanced over her shoulder and could not help the small laugh that bubbled up and out.

  "You're my hero, Your Grace. Thank you," she teased, smiling.

  He smiled back, his blue eyes alight with amusement. "I loathe uppity servants as much as I loathe uppity aristocrats."

  A warm, fuzzy feeling settled in her belly at his words. It was not every day a handsome duke saved a lady, and she would enjoy the moment for what it was. His Grace merely being a friend, a gentleman. Now she needed to find one of her own.

  Chapter 10

  "How dare the duke throw such a lady before me without care to my feelings. This is not right, Father, and you should make the duke do the right thing by me."

  "Sophie, darling, the duke has made no promise to you. If every gentleman who called upon our estate in Hampshire was required to offer marriage, you would have been married as a babe."

  Sophie sighed, rolling her eyes at her father's pathetic attempt to soothe her ire. She would not be soothed. She wanted the duke, and the poor little vestal virgin from Cornwall thought she would have the coronet. Well, she would not. The Penworth coronet would be hers to wear. It would be she who would give the duke children, a male heir, not some woman whom no one cared to remember after she left London seven years before.

  "She was injured in a carriage accident, and I suppose it is very nice of the duke and his mother to help her gain a marriage, sponsor her, but she is impeding my ability to get close to the duke, and I will not have it."

  "No," her father asked, raising a skeptical brow. "And how will you stop the duke from remaining by Miss Cooper's side? Tell him that you do not care for her and that he ought to be paying you more attention?"

  Sophie growled, grinding her teeth. Her father really could be the most vexing man. "I do not know how I will make him come over to me, but I shall. I'm an heiress, an earl’s daughter, a lady in my own right. I am perfect for him, and he will know it before the Season is over." And if he did not come to his senses, she would force him in some way or another.

  "Sophie darling, you cannot make someone enamored of you. It must come naturally, or you will find your marriage to the duke, or whomever you choose based on rank and wealth, will not be a happy union."

  "Pfft," she scoffed. "I do not care for emotions. I know what I want and what will make me happy, and the duke is what I desire above all else. I do not care if he does not love me, but we are a good match. It would be a welcome alliance between our great families."

  Earl Hammilyn sighed, staring out at the London streets. "Do not regret your choice, my child. Marriage is a lifelong commitment and one you will wish you had right from the moment you say I do."

  "Father. I do not understand this romantic notion of yours."

  "I do not understand your lack of one."

  Sophie shrugged, checking her gloves and dress before they arrived at the McCalter's midnight ball. The duke would be hers, and if she had to befriend the little Cornwall chit to be near him, show him it was she he wanted and no one else, then she would do so. No one cut her out of what she wanted, and those who got in her way would be dealt with, Miss Cooper not excluded. She narrowed her eyes, taking a calming breath.

  * * *

  One would not think the ball would be as energetic along with a crush at the late hour that they attended, and yet, one could hardly move around the room, less carry on a conversation without yelling at the top of one's voice.

  Josh stood near the smoking room doors, having found his brother-in-law Moore absent from his wife, an unusual occurrence and a situation one should always take the opportunity to enjoy.

  He studied the room, sipping a whisky, and watched as a horde of men started to parade before Miss Cooper, at first assessing her like some prize before going up and requesting his mother introduce them.

  Josh supposed he should be there, doing the honor, but it was probably best that he was not. A duke hovering close by could put some gentlemen off, and he wanted Miss Cooper to make a match. To find someone to whom she could see herself married for the rest of her days.

  That this evening she looked utterly stunning helped also. There was no sign of her injured leg, and the scar on her temple was not so very bad.

  Her large, blue eyes were filled with pleasure and amusement as more and more gentlemen joined them, her laughter reaching across the room to tease his senses.

  "Miss Cooper is a beauty this evening. I think she has finally been seen," Moore stated. His friend’s gaze fixed on the lady as much as Josh's was.

  "I'm happy for her." And he was happy, even if the sight of all the gentlemen vying for her hand left an odd, uncomfortable feeling lodged in his chest. Would they be kind to her? Were they gamblers who would leave her destitute when they had run through all their funds? Did they know of her injury and would be considerate of it?

  "I would not allow Templedon near her. I heard he has pockets to let after a disastrous night at one of the hells in East London. It is rumored that he's at risk of losing his estate."

  Josh's pleasure dissipated at the sight of Templedon bowing over her hand and being forward enough to brush his lips against her gloved fingers.

  The rogue.

  "I will speak with him should he call, find out the truth. I will not allow her to be taken in by such a false emotional ruse."

  "You may also need to look into Lord Daniel’s finances. He has some outstanding IOUs that he is avoiding paying. He is known for being tight when it comes to his blunt. He may be merely being mean, or he too could be in financial strife."

  Josh clapped his brother-in-law on the back, glad for the information. Just then, he caught sight of Miss Cooper being led out onto the floor by Lord Templedon. His jaw clenched, not particularly relishing the sight of the man with Miss Cooper on his arm.

  He
was a smug bastard. Too aware of his wiles when it came to women.

  Moore chuckled beside him. "Now, now, Penworth. No glowering at the guests. You're assisting Miss Cooper, not attempting to scare away all her suitors."

  Josh schooled his features, unaware that he was so public with his reaction to seeing her being led out by a man he knew was unsuitable. She was an earl’s granddaughter, a vicar's daughter, she may not be overly high on the social ladder, but she deserved better than a husband who would continue to whore his way around Covent Gardens any chance he gained.

  "I should put a stop to the dance, should I not?" he suggested to Moore, narrowing his eyes at his sister's husband when he grinned.

  "If you want everyone here to know that you are vying for her hand and not merely acting as a guardian of sorts. I would let things play out this evening, keep your distance and see if any gentlemen call on her or yourself in the coming days. You can make your feelings known at Penworth house better than in McCalter's ballroom."

  "Yes, you are right. I shall refrain." But the longer the night went on, the number of gentlemen asking for Miss Cooper's hand to dance was bordering on the absurd.

  She did not have one dance spare before supper at the ungodly hour of two in the morning took place. He escorted his mother and Miss Cooper to the supper room and did not miss her relief as she sat across from him. Nor did he miss her flushed skin. Her chest rose and fell rapidly from all the dancing. He swallowed, unable to remove the vision from his mind of her ample bosom.

  The little mole that sat directly between both breasts. Dear God, had that mole been there the entire time?

  He licked his lips, wondering what she would taste like. As sweet as she smelled, of roses, jasmine and lavender and everything delightful. Her smile as she talked to his mother was full, honest, and utterly charming.