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Dismissing the Duke

Page 16

by Jerrica Knight-Catania


  In short, he would make her Season, and she would save his.

  Yes. She would do nicely.

  Chapter 3

  "Let's go riding."

  A chorus of groans met Ester's suggestion.

  "We just went riding yesterday." Riesa didn't look up from her writing as she spoke, a smear of ink over her brow.

  "The day is lovely, we should all enjoy it while the sun shines. I'll go riding, if you'd like," Fannie said, from her spot on the sitting room's sofa, busy with needlework. Ester arched a brow in triumphant at her other sisters, as she leaned over the back of the sofa to plant a loud kiss on the top of her twin's head.

  "Darling sister!"

  Miriam rolled her eyes as she flipped through the book of star charts she'd found in the earl's library, shoved between a treatise on dog breeding and the complete works of William Shakespeare.

  "Just because she was born four minutes earlier than you doesn't mean you always must do as she wants."

  "No, that's not it at all," protested her youngest sister. "I truly think a ride would be nice. We've been cooped up in here for days. As beautiful and spacious as the countess's townhouse is, I'm ready for a change in scenery."

  "We're in Mayfair, Fan. I'd say there's been quite a change of scenery already." Riesa frowned at the paper in front of her, then sighed and continued writing.

  "Yes, true. Such a far way to come to meet eligible men. I suppose we should be grateful Father was willing to put up the funds to do so."

  Travel all the way to England merely to meet men who hadn't heard of the Madcap Rosenbaums and their escapades. It was ridiculous.

  Miriam sniffed. Perhaps it wasn't exactly proper to partake in racing one's own horse or apply for admission into the all-male Astronomical Society of New York, and other similar acts. But was it truly as scandalous as all that, to ruin their prospects and set everyone gossiping?

  Apparently it was. At least it was to the people who seemed to designate who was acceptable, and who was not. It hadn't been so terrible when it was just Miriam alone, though she'd spent many an evening sitting with the chaperones instead of dancing. But once the sisters were out in society full force, well... The invitations continued to arrive, no one was fool enough to insult Abraham Rosenbaum's daughters so blatantly. They weren't by any means the only Jewish family moving through high society, but they did rather make a splash without meaning to. Their reception had been met with chill indifference, or worse, cruel amusement.

  It wouldn't bother her in the least, Miriam would consider herself well washed of them, if it weren't for Fannie.

  The sister in question bit her lip, fingers pausing their work again.

  "I do worry, however, that the expense of our trip might not be worth it after all. Have we received any invitations yet?"

  London was not New York, and no one here depended on Rosenbaum funding for their ships and trading expeditions.

  Ester perched on the top of the sofa, one leg swinging back and forth, and shrugged one shoulder. "Not that Lady Blakeley has relayed, but it's only been a week since we arrived. Mama doesn't seem concerned."

  "Would she show it, even if she was?" asked Fannie. All the sisters paused for a moment, even Riesa's pen stopped its scratching. The answer was no. Their mother was the epitome of grace under fire, and would never for a moment show even a flicker of distress.

  Of course, she'd learned to shield her emotions from the caprice and whims of others over the years, and taught her daughters the same. There would always be those in society who disdained Lydia Rosenbaum for marrying a Jew. Miriam knew from her own experience that many didn't bother to hide their derision, but never had she seen her mother falter under censure and sly remarks.

  And while Miriam would swallow an insult or cut direct to herself, she would rake anyone who dared to do the same to her sisters from head to toe with her claws. Perhaps she had contributed a bit to the grist of the gossip mill once or twice, in such situations. But degradation of her family was not to be borne.

  If only she could hit people in the mouth, like her older brother Armand did. It must be lovely to be a man at times. She imagined Armie must enjoy fighting, he did it so often. It was positively unfair he was patted on the back and chuckled over for his recklessness and quick mouth, while his sisters were labeled harridans for theirs.

  "Still..." Fannie began sewing again, her gaze on the pile of material in her lap. "If we do not receive invitations to balls and recitals and such, it would a disappointment to Mama. I could not bear it."

  The masculine clearing of a throat had them all looking toward the doorway.

  Miriam yelped in surprise and dropped her book directly on top of her slippered toes. She bent to retrieve it with an irritable, "Wear a bell, would you?"

  Once again, Mr. Blakeley appeared unannounced, looking as handsome and disheveled as when she'd first met him. Though he was less dusty this time, his brilliant blue eyes shining against his matching silk waistcoat.

  "What was that, Miss Rosenbaum?"

  "Nothing at all, Mr. Blakeley," she replied, snatching up the book. Lord, he set her askew, all flushed feeling and fumbley. A rather disconcerting ability. One she was not fond of, to be quite honest.

  "Hmm." He just looked at her for another moment, then smiled around at them all and stepped into the room. "Well, ladies, perhaps I could help with your lack of activity today. It's a beautiful afternoon for a drive through the park."

  "Fannie, Ester, Riesa, this is Mr. Blakeley, our hostess's son. We met yesterday, in Lady Pennyworth's drawing room." With murmured greetings, the girls all dropped into varying degrees of curtsies. Pride swelled in Miriam's breast. Perhaps they were not society's ideal young women, but they accounted for themselves well enough when the situation demanded it. "Mr. Blakeley, my sisters."

  "Charmed," he said, and swept into a deep bow. Ester snorted, Fannie blushed, Riesa sighed, and Miriam just rolled her eyes. Tousled hair or not, he was a bit of a peacock. It should have taken the edge off his charm, but it only seemed to add to it, drat it all.

  "Did you say a ride through the park?" Ester sidled a little closer, her gaze bright.

  "I did."

  "In a carriage or on horses?"

  "Open barouche." He tapped his gloves against one strong thigh—not that she was noticing his thighs!— and looked around at them agreeably. "Five on horses, plus groomsmen, would be a bit much to handle on our first foray into Mayfair, I believe. My mother has a large enough vehicle to hold us all comfortably."

  "Oh." Ester looked disappointed.

  "It's better than sitting inside, Essie," Fannie pointed out. As one, the twins turned to Miriam, faces hopeful. Being the eldest, she was usually the authority on yea or nay when their mother was absent.

  The idea of being trapped in a conveyance for an hour, even an open one, with Mr. Blakeley made her uneasy in ways she'd rather not examine. Miriam glanced over, to find he was already watching her, a small smile playing about his lips.

  As if he knew how uncomfortable he made her, and was daring her to prove him right by turning down his offer.

  "What say you, Miss Rosenbaum? Shall we take a drive and see what there is to see?" he asked, his deep voice pleasant, devoid of the amusement she found in his gaze. Miriam's heartbeat quickened, absurdly aware of the how the lace of her neckline scratched against her skin.

  "Ah. Um," she said in a great show of intelligence, and rubbed at her collarbone where it itched the most. His gaze flashed to the spot, then back up to meet her eyes. She swallowed and dropped her hand into her lap, gripping the edges of the large book tight.

  "We might as well." Riesa threw down her pen with a grumpy expression. "The twins will never give us any peace until they've had a proper airing out."

  "Riesa!"

  Mr. Blakeley's lips twitched at Fannie's mortified hiss. He turned his attention back to Miriam and tilted his head quizzically. She nodded, giving her acquiescence.

  "Capital.
I will go and speak with Harrington. Wish me luck," he directed toward Miriam, and she felt her lips curve up despite her reluctance to encourage him.

  "Luck," she said.

  He raised one eyebrow. "Hmm. Ambiguous, Miss Rosenbaum. I see I am on my own. Very well. Once more unto the breach, and all that."

  She barely managed to keep the laugh inside as he vacated the room, and turned away from the doorway to find all three of her sisters staring at her.

  "What?"

  "You were flirting with Mr. Blakeley."

  Miriam gaped at Fannie's awed tone, affronted. "I was not."

  "You were," said Ester, as she crossed her arms over her chest and grinned. "And he was flirting with you!"

  No. She was... being polite. After all, he was their hostess's son. It wouldn't do to offend him. Besides, it was generous of him to offer to escort four ladies he'd only just met about the park. Odd, but generous. Armie would have gladly thrown himself into the Serpentine first, and he was their brother, responsible for their wellbeing.

  "Go change. It will not do to keep Mr. Blakeley waiting. Perhaps he will change his mind if left to cool his heels in the entryway too long," Miriam said, sending the younger girls dashing for the stairs. Riesa paused as she made her way to the door at a slower pace.

  "You were flirting, dear. Just a bit." With a sympathetic look, she patted Miriam's arm. "It happens with handsome, charming gentlemen sometimes. They can be hard to resist."

  "Not for you." Miriam was desperate to get back on familiar ground.

  "Oh, yes. Even for me," replied her sister, setting Miriam off balance even further. Never had she seen Riesa confounded by a man. Her entire life revolved around her writing, to the exclusion of nearly all else. When would she even have spent enough time in a man's presence to be charmed?

  "Who...?"

  Her sister just shook her head, lips twisted into a sardonic little smile. "A story for another time. As you said, we shouldn't keep Mr. Blakeley waiting."

  With a stunned nod of agreement, Miriam followed her sister to their suite of rooms, thoughts whirling.

  Her sisters thought she was flirting with Mr. Blakeley, and though they were wrong about that, perhaps he was flirting a bit with her. Likely it was out of sheer force of habit, a reflex that desirable bachelors achieved over their years out and about in society. She'd seen it often enough, her theory could very well be truth.

  But... if he was flirting, just a little, perhaps he would be amendable to escorting Miriam and her sisters to some of the ton's events during the course of the Season. Surely he received all the invitations Mama and Fannie coveted so. It would be a relief to them, not to be left out of things. If it meant making her mother happy, Miriam could certainly play the part of the admiring, wide-eyed debutant, at least for a short while.

  If Mama was happy, she'd be more likely to look the other way when Miriam visited the Academy.

  She was dying to meet the Minskys, and discover all they had worked on since Miss Minsky's last letter. Miriam had not informed them she was travelling to England, in an effort to surprise her friend. It would be too terrible to contemplate not being able to visit at least once during her entire stay.

  Unacceptable.

  She'd just have to fix it so that everything worked out the way she planned.

  Resolved, Miriam changed into her most flattering walking dress, an ensemble of dark pink and cream, edged in velvet. Smoothing several wayward strands of hair into submission, she tied on a straw bonnet decorated with a spray of silken roses and a wide green ribbon. The look was fresh and pretty and young, as if she had no more on her mind than her next shopping excursion.

  Time to set her plan into action.

  Chapter 4

  Leo couldn't get a grip on the situation.

  Every time he thought he'd read Miss Rosenbaum, that he had her figured out, her personality shifted, and sent him into confusion. First, in his mother's salon, she seemed reserved and cool. That afternoon, she'd been on the edge of irritation but worked well to rein it in.

  But when she had climbed into the barouche with her sisters, she'd turned those large, dark eyes on him with an alarmingly wide smile that had him rethinking the wisdom of his plan. Had he read her wrong, the day they met?

  Was she in London only to catch a titled husband?

  The only thing keeping him from turning the barouche around was the occasional tightness around her eyes, the lines of tension. As if she had to bestow great concentration on her giggling and airy chatter. If the odd looks her sisters kept shooting her way were any indication, perhaps she did. Hmm.

  Before making his way up to the salon that afternoon, Leo had spent what he felt was a very productive hour questioning his mother's housekeeper about their American guests. The older woman expressed how delightful they were, not at all the spoiled brats she'd feared upon hearing there would soon be a houseful of heiresses to please. He'd come away from their little chat reasonably sure Miss Rosenbaum was exactly the right young lady for his plan. She seemed quite immersed in her study of the stars and such, and less interested in going about in society. A bit of a bluestocking, in fact.

  It relieved him, to be honest. If Leo had to court this woman in the manner the duke would expect, at least they'd be able to carry on an intelligent conversation.

  Still, he was uneasy. The woman described by his parents' housekeeper and the woman next to him could be two completely different individuals.

  He couldn't put a finger on what it was that was bothering him, besides the giggling, only that he knew it was an effort not to squirm in place next to her. Perhaps it was the way she kept lightly touching his arm as she chattered. The contact made him cognizant of how close they were. The vehicle was large, yes, but not large enough for them to sit without touching.

  Leo tried to listen as she spoke, but every bit of his awareness was focused on the spot where her knee pressed against his through her skirts.

  It was distracting.

  She was distracting. Not the constant flow of nonsensical words from her pretty lips, but as woman, he realized he was very aware of her. Which was less than helpful in the grand scheme of things. The last thing he needed was to be attracted to the woman he was fake courting.

  "Oh! Look at that beautiful beast."

  Leo blinked at Ester's loud exclamation, as she hung over the side of the vehicle to get a closer view of the Earl of Ashbury's new stallion. It was indeed a perfect specimen of horseflesh, one the earl wouldn't be able to afford much longer, if rumor had it right. Golden and sleekly muscled, with a dark mane and tail, the horse posed with a proudly arched neck as Ashbury chatted.

  The man glanced over at Ester's cry of rapture, caught sight of Leo in carriage with the sisters, and winked.

  The Duchess of Carrow drove past with her prune-faced daughters, a look of horror in her eyes as she took in Ester's wide grin. Leo pressed his lips together to keep from barking with laughter as the woman turned her disapproving glare upon him, and touched two fingers to his hat in salute.

  Her eyes widened, and she whipped her head forward so quickly, he hoped she didn't do herself damage.

  "Oh, dear," murmured Riesa, pulling on her sister's arm to keep her from tumbling out of the barouche as the horse passed out of their sight. "If you'd paused for a moment, Essie, you might have seen the scandalized faces when you pointed at that man and shouted about a beautiful beast."

  "I may have spoken a shade too loudly, but did you see that gorgeous horse? However, I did not point." Ester looked insulted as she plopped back into her seat.

  "You did both, dear," said Miriam, from her place besides Leo. He felt her shift in her seat, body tensing. "It was too much to expect everyone maintained decorum the entire outing, wasn't it? I can see the scandal sheets now. The Madcap Rosenbaums take London!"

  "The what?" Leo couldn't stop the grin that spread across his face as all four sisters turned varying shades of pink. "Don't say you've been naughty enough
back in America that you've earned a family sobriquet."

  Miriam's eyes narrowed just the slightest bit as she lifted her chin, looking much more like the girl he'd first met in his mother's salon.

  "How delightful," he sighed happily. What a surprise she was turning out to be, never quite what he expected. He was going to enjoy this Season much more than he'd thought.

  Distant thunder rumbled overhead, surprising him. The weather had been nice enough when they started out, but now several dark clouds began to gather on the horizon.

  "I think we've had enough fresh air for one afternoon." Miriam shifted so they no longer touched, the cooling air rushing in to fill the space.

  It wouldn't do to examine the keen loss he felt at her withdrawal. So he enjoyed touching her. He'd enjoyed touching many women. Women were enjoyable to touch, after all, with their petal soft skin and locks of silky hair.

  He wondered how long her hair was, once it was let down from its confinement. Would it flow straight over her shoulders, or curl down to follow the curve of her—

  Clearing his throat, Leo gave the coachman orders to head back.

  When they pulled up in front of the townhouse's steps, he leapt out and began to assist the sisters from the barouche. Fannie managed a quick curtsy before her twin tugged her along, nearly dragging her behind as they hurried up the steps, Ester still going on about Lord Ashbury's horse. Riesa favored him with an absent smile and murmured appreciation for their short outing before following.

  The girls headed into the house, their laughter drifting back on the breeze as it began to pick up. They sounded much more cheery than when he'd happened upon them earlier. The countess's butler eyed him as they passed, then with a sniff, closed the door firmly.

  Finally he had Miriam alone, if only for a moment.

  Leo turned back to the barouche with a smile and held out his hand to steady her as she climbed down to the pavement. Falling into step alongside her as they climbed the stairs, he glanced over.

 

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