The Lady and the Duke: A Dangerous Season (The Eardleys of Gostwicke Hall Book 2)

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The Lady and the Duke: A Dangerous Season (The Eardleys of Gostwicke Hall Book 2) Page 2

by Penelope Redmont


  The duke was silent for a moment. A glance from the corner of her eye told Elaine that he was still inspecting Joy.

  "Would Miss Eardley sell her?"

  Without being aware that she was doing so, Elaine shook her head sharply. When she felt the duke's gaze on her, she kept her head down.

  "That I couldn't say your grace… Miss Elaine is very fond of the mare."

  "Please tell Mrs. Eardley that I will call on her at Gostwicke Hall later today."

  The Duke turned his mount, and he and his grooms rode away.

  "Come now," Bendish said to Elaine, and nudged his horse into a canter.

  Elaine forced herself to follow him, warning herself that she would not look back at the duke. She didn't, but it was a struggle.

  Before Elaine was aware of it, Joy decided that she would take the fence again. Too late to correct the mare without unbalancing her, Elaine accepted the inevitable. They took the fence easily.

  "You like to jump. You're such a good girl," Elaine cooed, leaning down to pat Joy's neck. She'd never been prouder of the mare. Joy tossed her head, as though in pride at her accomplishment.

  When Bendish had made his way through the gate and had caught up with her again, he had a warning. "Ma'am — his grace was watching you take that fence again… Perhaps not the wisest idea to jump her if you don't intend to sell the horse to him."

  "Joy decided that she'd take the fence, I didn't. I was too late to stop her… But I have no intention of selling her, I wouldn't sell her for a thousand pounds."

  "The duke is one of the wealthiest men in England."

  She didn't care. "When he calls, I'll stay out of his way. In fact, I'll make sure that I'm not in the house at all."

  Catherine ruined Elaine's plan to be away from Gostwicke Hall when the Duke of Sommerforth called on them. She insisted that Elaine spend the afternoon with her in the library.

  Elaine had a talent for figures, and she quickly forgot all about the duke. She loved dealing with the puzzle of Catherine's complex financial dealings.

  Major Grove, Catherine's husband, was a rakehell and gamester. With her marriage to the major in ruins, Catherine was determined to save as much of her income from the major's plundering as she could. That meant hiding not only her money, but also two estates which she had inherited from an elderly friend of the family just before her marriage.

  Sometimes Elaine wondered what would happen if the major's solicitors ever learned that Catherine owned the estates, and had been hiding them under false identities for years.

  Ladies never dealt with anything as outré as money. "My dear," Mrs. Eardley remonstrated with her eldest daughter when she and Elaine left the dining room, "I do hope that you're not going to bring trouble on yourself — and us."

  Elaine knew that her mother was aware that Catherine placed regular advertisements in the press which said that she was not responsible for her husband's debts. Unfortunately, legally, Catherine owned nothing. On Catherine's marriage, everything she'd owned became her husband's. Except for the hidden estates.

  "It's all right, Mother," Elaine said. She enjoyed helping Catherine to stymie the major. "We're hiding the estates and the income — it's impossible that —"

  "Besides," Catherine interrupted, "we're not hiding everything. Not all of it. We're leaving just enough, and Elaine's clever with it. She's —"

  Mrs. Eardley held up her hand. "I don't want to know. You girls will end in Newgate. I wish you'd have a concern for my nerves."

  Catherine merely laughed, and Elaine worked companionably with her in the library, never giving a thought to Sommerforth. She'd debated with herself whether to mention that the duke had said that he was calling, and decided against it.

  She'd never mentioned the duke at all. Confessing she'd met the duke would only lead to questions about what the duke had said to her and she had said to him. Mrs. Eardley was completely unaware that Elaine often dressed in a jacket and trousers when out on the estate.

  Her sisters knew, and Catherine encouraged it. Catherine thought that riding astride was safer than riding sidesaddle. She considered sidesaddles a ridiculous affectation. Jumping a horse when riding sidesaddle was extremely dangerous. Henry had had a bad fall two years previously, and she'd lain as if dead for over three hours.

  "Besides," Catherine had once said to Elaine, "what we do when we're at home is no one's concern."

  A maid entered the library. Elaine looked up, yawned, and stretched.

  "Lady Kingston's compliments, ma'am," the girl said to Catherine, "but there's a party from The Oaks that's called. They're in the large drawing room. She said to say that there's a duke, and that the mistress is resting, so will you come at once?"

  "Oh no! The duke, drat him!" Elaine dropped her pen, splattering ink all over a letter.

  Catherine glanced at Elaine. "The duke?"

  "Sommerforth."

  Catherine rolled her eyes. "That's right, I'd forgotten about him. Lady Talverne and Christobel have been bleating about his visit to The Oaks this age. I'd better go and see to them. Are you almost finished?"

  "Another few minutes. I'll finish up — and Mother will need help with dressing." She knew that her mother would have five dresses laid out on her bed and would be unable to decide between them.

  "You go and help Mother. I'll rescue Anne and do the pretty."

  "Have you met him — the duke?" Elaine asked Catherine when she was almost at the library doors.

  Catherine turned and frowned. "Yes. I was just out, and attended his wedding with Mother and Papa. His wife died just three months later, poor girl… it was sad… Hurry, Elaine."

  Elaine reflected that dukes held no terrors for Catherine, and grinned. She suddenly realized that she was nervous about meeting the duke again.

  For a moment, she wondered whether she should avoid the drawing room, but she hated being a pudding heart. There was no need for nerves. He would never know that she was the ragged young lad on the part-Arabian mare.

  It would be amusing. Besides, he might enquire about Joy. Joy was her horse, and she wasn't for sale.

  She documented her afternoon's work with some notes for the solicitor, and glanced at the two letters she'd drafted. She needed to make good copies of the letters for Catherine's signature, but she could do that this evening.

  Mrs Eardley's rooms were abuzz with activity. Denise and another maid rushed around following Mrs Eardley's distracted orders.

  "There you are my dear," her mother said. "You must go and change once. You can't wear that dress to meet a duke… Do you realize that you have ink spots on your sleeve as well as on your fingers? And on your face too. Denise, make sure that Elaine is properly turned out — Elaine, you must start thinking of yourself as a young lady about to make her come out. If Sommerforth gives you attention during your season you will be made."

  "We'll make sure that you're a picture of elegance first, then I'll change," Elaine responded calmly. She hugged her mother, puzzled. Why was her mother so nervous?

  Half an hour later, Mrs. Eardley was ready for the drawing room. Elaine tucked an extra shawl around her against the cold in the hall, then strolled to her own rooms.

  "Never mind my hair," Elaine said to Denise. "Just brush it out, and tie it back with a ribbon." She knew that with her hair unbound, its fiery mass was a distraction in itself. It said very clearly that Elaine was a young lady, innocent and shy, just out of the schoolroom. The duke would never associate Miss Eardley with a stable lad.

  The duke rose when Elaine entered the drawing room.

  Elaine curtsied, and he bowed, bending over her hand.

  His hand was very large, and warm. It engulfed her much smaller hand, and sent jolts all along her arm, and through her body.

  She snatched her hand away from his abruptly, glaring at him. How had he done that? He was so tall that she had to look up a considerable distance to meet his slate-grey eyes. She backed away from him.

  He looked amused. "Miss
Eardley, at last. I'm enchanted. I hear that you're to be presented in spring. I look forward to dancing with you at Almack's."

  "Thank you, your grace," Elaine said calmly, lowering her gaze in deference. When she'd met his gaze, she thought that she'd seen something in his expression… but no, it was gone.

  "His grace wishes to buy your mare, Elaine," Christobel said. She took the duke's arm possessively.

  Elaine glanced at Talverne, their neighbor, who was speaking to Anne. Why couldn't he control his intended? Christobel was clinging to the duke as though he were a ship's mast in a storm, and she a hapless cabin boy lashed to it for safety.

  Christobel raised herself on her toes and whispered something to the duke that Elaine didn't hear. The duke smiled down at Christobel.

  That annoyed Elaine. She didn't mind that Christobel was an heiress, and a diamond of the first water. She did mind that Christobel's lush figure, and small frame, combined with a musical voice, sent men stupid. Christobel well knew the effect her glossy black hair and bluebell-blue eyes had on men.

  Elaine took the opportunity that the duke's distraction offered to curtsy briefly then turn away.

  She greeted Lady Talverne, who was speaking with Mrs. Eardley.

  "Your mother has just said that you won't sell your mare," Lady Talverne said. "Why would you not my dear? You can always breed another horse. I've just been saying to Angarad that one doesn't say no to a duke."

  Elaine laughed aloud at that. Catherine had just joined them, and she glanced at her sister, who'd heard Lady Talverne's words. "What do you think Catherine? Should I sell my mare to his grace?"

  "Be sensible Elaine," Catherine said calmly, "Lady Talverne is quite correct. No one says no to a duke."

  Then Catherine leaned closer to Elaine and whispered into her ear. "I've already refused to sell the mare to him. When he asks you, as he will, make some excuse. We're Eardleys, our grandfather was a duke, but much good that that has ever done us… So you needn't be overawed by his consequence. Nevertheless, cozen him. You must not be rude — it would be rude to refuse outright."

  Rude? Of course she wouldn't be rude.

  Lord Talverne caught her eye and wandered over. She'd known Pierce Ward all her life. She'd never been able to think of him as Lord Talverne. To her, Lord Talverne had been his father. He would always be Pierce. "I think you're about to lose your intended." She nodded towards the girl, who stood very close to the duke with both arms twined around his arm. "She's positively bewitched by the duke. Go and pry her loose from him."

  "You're joking," he said glumly. "But it's no joke. I wish she would throw me over and set her cap at the duke."

  "Not looking forward to the married estate?"

  He held out his arm to her. "Let's walk in the garden."

  2

  They left the drawing room and went out to the garden through the library doors. It was another cold, icy day. Although it was only mid-afternoon, the gloom suggest that darkness was falling.

  Elaine had sent a footman for her cloak and she snuggled into it, but she felt the icy ground through her slippers. She looked up at the sky, hoping that the snow would hold off until after the Boxing Day Hunt.

  She shivered, and turned to Pierce. "Quickly, before my toes freeze. Why have you brought me out here? Are you jesting, or are you truly not happy at the thought of your marriage?"

  "I've made a mistake," he said frankly. "Christobel isn't as I thought her. She's spoiled. She spends money as if I had an unlimited supply of it. I swear that she's set on spending her dowry before I even receive it. And she's ill-natured too, she fights with everyone – at the moment she's on good terms with Catherine, but that won't last."

  He sounded depressed.

  Elaine frowned. She suddenly felt very sorry for him. Along with the rest of the family, she'd been enraged when he'd thrown over her sister, Melly. Melly had been expecting for years that she would marry Talverne. But Elaine had forgiven him and didn't want him to be miserable.

  "For goodness sake Pierce — put your foot down. Refuse to pay her bills. You shouldn't be paying them until you're married."

  "You might tell that to Christobel," he said dryly. "She won't listen to me, or her mother, or anyone else. I don't know what to do."

  They heard the library doors open, and she looked up. It was the duke. What did he want? "We’d better go inside," she said to Pierce.

  "A moment, Miss Eardley," the duke said.

  He glared at Pierce, who bowed briefly then walked past Sommerforth into the library. Pierce closed the doors.

  Elaine shivered again, and sniffed. She needed a handkerchief. She wouldn't sell him the mare, no matter how many times he asked. Rude or not, she would cheerfully say no to a duke.

  "What is Lord Talverne to you?" The duke asked.

  She blinked at him. He had his back to the glow of light from the library, so his face was shadowed in the gloom. She couldn't read the look in his eyes. "Pierce? Pierce is — he's like a brother, your grace. I've known him all my life."

  He was silent for a moment. He cleared his throat. "About your mare. I admire her excessively — will you sell her for £2000?"

  She gaped at him. That was an immense sum. "You overwhelm me, your grace. Such a great amount for an unschooled horse?"

  "That's the point — no one's ruined her, and I want her for my stable. What do you say?"

  No one says no to a duke, but she had to. "I hand-raised Joy," she said. "Her mother died within hours of her birth. I will gladly sell you any other horse, but not Joy."

  "I see."

  "Why do you want her?" The man was richer than the Prince Regent and most of the noblemen of the court. He could buy any horse he wanted, so why did he want hers?

  "I like her. She is very young – and as you say, unschooled."

  She shrugged.

  He chuckled. "May I attempt to change your mind?

  "You may. Provided you realize that I will not."

  "Would you send Fred and Bendish over to The Oaks with the mare tomorrow? I'd like to examine her more closely."

  "What? I — no. No." Fred? Suddenly she remembered that Bendish had called her Fred.

  "I won't steal your mare, Miss Eardley, if that's your concern," he chuckled. "Fred rides well. I suppose he's had the schooling of the mare? I might steal the boy away from you if not the mare." He laughed outright.

  "Fred has duties. We're preparing for the Boxing Day Hunt." Unconsciously, Elaine had been edging towards the library doors, and the safety of the house.

  When she took a step backward, he stepped forward. That made the light from the library fall on the duke's face. There was an expression that she didn't trust in his dark slate eyes.

  Her face heated suddenly as a thought occurred to her. He was suspicious. Surely not… Surely he didn't realize that he was talking to Fred?

  He remained silent for a moment.

  Elaine felt the warmth of his gaze encompass her, and suppressed a shudder. He couldn't know, surely. She'd been muffled up to her eyebrows. No, she was sure that he didn't know.

  "I have invited you and your mother and sisters to my house party. Next week."

  Once again he shocked her. Why on earth would he invite them? She'd heard of the duke's grand house parties. His summer house party went on for a month, and his Christmas house party was famous. He invited the great and the good to Sommerforth Abbey for the holiday celebration. The Eardleys didn't move in such elevated circles.

  Elaine licked her lips. She didn't know what to say. She shivered.

  "Come," he said, extending his arm to her. "It's cold. You will become chilled."

  She rested her fingertips on his sleeve, and felt his warmth through the thick material. Once again the strange feeling jolted up her arm and into her body.

  She longed to snatch her hand away. Doing so would give offense, so she left it where it was.

  A few minutes after they'd returned to the drawing room, the party from The Oaks r
eturned to their carriages.

  Elaine didn't go outside to see them off. She stood beside the fire, with two shawls tucked around her.

  "My dears, we are made." Her mother said when she came back into the drawing room. Anne and Catherine followed her inside, then Mrs Eardley nodded to the footman to close the doors. "An invitation to the duke's Christmas house party – what an honor."

  "Must we go?" Elaine asked. She didn't know why, but she had no desire to see the duke again. He discomfited her, and she didn't want to continue arguing with him about the mare. "He offered me £2,000 for Joy. I don't know why — it's demented. He could buy half a dozen brood mares of similar breeding for that amount."

  "He was pushed into inviting us," Anne said. "When Christobel gloated that they were invited to his house party, he didn't have much choice. She only said it to score off Catherine."

  "I think you're wrong." Catherine picked up a chair and placed it in front of the fire. She settled into it, stretching her feet out towards the blaze. "Think back. As I understood it, he hadn't invited Pierce and Christobel at all — he'd invited Lady Talverne. Christobel was angling for an invitation for herself. So she got her invitation, and he invited us as well."

  "I don't care why he invited us. He did… and Elaine, this will make all the difference. Your successful comeout is assured." Mrs Eardley poured herself a sherry, drank it, and then poured another one. "Girls, I can't believe it. An invitation to the duke's Christmas party."

  "I don't want to go. I don't need to go," Elaine said.

  "Of course you're going." Her mother was adamant.

  "Why? I've still got so much to do for the Boxing Day Hunt. The duke will never know that I didn't attend. He's only interested in Joy. You can make some excuse for me. Tell him that I've got a cold." As she might well have, Elaine thought and blew her nose.

  "Why are you being so missish?" Catherine stared at Elaine, and narrowed her gaze. "There's something more — what is it?"

  Mrs. Eardley shook her head. "Not go? Of course you will go — you'll be introduced to his grace's friends — what a wonderful start for your season… I'll hear no more about it. We're all going, and that's that. Thank heavens that we had some clothes made up the last time we were in London. We won't be disgraced."

 

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