What a Devilish Duke Desires

by Vicky Dreiling

If wishes were horses, beggars would ride. “I’m fortunate, compared to many other women.” It was true. Even though she found Buckley unpleasant, she enjoyed teaching dance.

  Lucy set the pasties on the plates and poured the tea. The cup warmed her hands and the food was savory.

  After they finished their late supper, Lucy sighed. “Shall I read to you?”

  “Not tonight, dear. I hear the weariness in your voice. You must rest.”

  The lingering fear had left her spent, but if she went to bed now, she knew she would toss and turn with worry over finding a new job. “I doubt I can rest yet, Grandmama, and I want to spend time with you. Let me read another chapter of Pride and Prejudice.” She’d splurged on a subscription at the library, but she refused to regret it. In the days ahead, she must pursue every possible avenue for another job, but tonight, she needed to be with her grandmother and immerse herself in a good book.

  She had no idea how long she’d been reading when she heard her grandmother’s slow, steady breathing. Lucy had little money and few possessions, but she was fortunate to have such a sweet and wise grandmother. Grandmama had enriched her life immensely and had always encouraged her to reach for her dreams. Lucy kissed her forehead and awakened her.

  “Oh, dear, I fell asleep. I’m so sorry.”

  “Do not be sorry,” Lucy said, putting a ribbon in the book to mark her place. “I’ll read to you tomorrow evening. Now come and let me tuck you in.”

  “Oh, that isn’t necessary. My trusty stick will see me to my room. Good night, dear.”

  “Good night, Grandmama.”

  Lucy banked the fire and sat on the sofa, contemplating her dream of owning a dance studio. The lessons would not make her rich, but she meant to make a comfortable and safe life for herself and her grandmother.

  As much as she wanted to pursue her dream, she must think of the immediate concerns. She had to find another job to supplement their income. Her stomach clenched as she contemplated the consequences of failure. Dear God, what would happen to them if she didn’t find another position quickly?

  Chapter Two

  The next afternoon

  Lucy found the address of Lady Blenborough in an elegant house situated near Green Park. She felt relatively safe in this neighborhood. Well, from everyone except her disgusting employer, Mr. Buckley. As much as she despised him, she needed the employment. While she was his assistant, she often did all of the teaching while Buckley tried to charm the lady clients. At least she had found a job using her dancing skills. It provided her with an income, though she sometimes struggled to make ends meet.

  She went round to the servant’s entrance, and the kindly cook gave her a cup of tea and a roll. Lucy ate half the roll and stored the rest in her apron pocket for later. When Buckley peered inside the kitchen, he scowled. “I’ll dock your pay for fraternizing with the servants.”

  She had learned the art of making her expression as blank as possible. It was her only defense against her horrid employer. When she followed Buckley to the drawing room, Lucy saw a plump girl who looked to be about twelve. A lady wearing a fine morning gown sat in a chair with a bored expression.

  “Lucy, show Prudence the steps,” Buckley said. “Lady Blenborough, do not despair. Soon Lady Prudence will be performing the dance steps with elegance and lightness.”

  Lady Blenborough rolled her eyes and unfurled her fan. “Please get on with the lesson,” she said in a curt tone.

  “Lucy,” Buckley said, clapping his hands. “Do not dally.”

  She turned her attention to Prudence. “Is this your first dance lesson?”

  “Hardly,” Lady Blenborough said. “My daughter is graceless.”

  Lucy was horrified at Lady Blenborough’s harsh words in front of everyone.

  When Prudence’s lower lip trembled, Lucy’s heart went out to her. “Prudence,” Lucy said gently. “Do not worry if you make a mistake.”

  Mrs. Blenborough rolled her eyes. “She needs no encouragement to fail.”

  Lucy drew in a deep breath, knowing she could not contradict Lady Blenborough, but the lady’s cruel words must be crushing Prudence. Why would her mother treat her daughter with such indignity?

  Lucy knew how important it was for Prudence to learn the steps. One simply could not get on well in society without learning to dance gracefully. Years ago, her mother had taught all the young people in their village to dance and Lucy had assisted her as she’d grown older.

  Lucy leaned closer to Prudence, hoping it would help her. “I know you can learn if you concentrate. “Will you do that, Prudence?”

  She nodded.

  “Now, watch me the first time,” Lucy said. “This is the chassé step. Right foot forward takes the weight; the following foot closes behind.” Lucy regarded the girl. “Watch me once more. Now you step with me slowly. Right foot forward.”

  Prudence used the left foot.

  “Oh, for heaven’s sake, Prudence,” Lady Blenborough said, “use your right foot.”

  “Prudence,” Lucy said, “let us try again. Right foot forward taking your weight and close the back foot behind.”

  Prudence put her weight on her right foot, and then she glanced at her mother and froze.

  Lady Blenborough spoke sharply. “Prudence, attend.”

  The sharp command startled Prudence. She closed her back foot, but Lucy had to catch Prudence’s arm to keep her upright.

  “Prudence, let us step together slowly,” Lucy said. “Right foot forward taking the weight, very good, and close your back foot behind.” Lucy smiled at her. “You did very well. Now let’s try it up tempo. Watch me first.”

  After the demonstration, Lucy said, “Let us try it together. Right foot forward taking the weight…”

  Prudence lost her balance and fell on her bottom. Lucy immediately helped the girl to her feet. “It’s all right,” she said under her breath, even though she knew it wasn’t.

  “Prudence, you are hopelessly clumsy,” Lady Blenborough said. “I’ve seen enough. The lesson is over.”

  Lucy couldn’t help comparing Lady Blenborough’s cruelty with her own mother’s gentle patience. She remembered how much her mother’s approval had meant to her and knew poor Prudence would never gain confidence with such a horrible mother.

  “Lady Blenborough,” Buckley said, his voice oily in his attempts to soothe, “allow me to demonstrate with my assistant. Perhaps that will help Prudence. Lucy.” He snapped his fingers.

  Lucy knew what was coming and braced herself. He stood behind her and his foul breath on her neck made her want to shiver. When he attempted to move closer, she knew he would try to touch her, because he’d done it before. She pretended to misunderstand and performed the steps on her own. Chassé close, chassé close, chassé close. Lucy ended with a graceful plié.

  “Prudence,” Lady Blenborough said, “try again.”

  The girl had wandered over to the sideboard and stiffened upon hearing her mother’s voice. Guilt was written all over Prudence’s face as she held her hands behind her back.

  Lady Blenborough rose. Her eyes narrowed as she yanked her daughter’s hand forward. Sweetmeats scattered all over the floor.

  “If you wish to make a pig of yourself, Prudence, then do so. I wash my hands of you,” Lady Blenborough said.

  Lucy winced as tears spilled down Prudence’s face. She wanted to comfort the girl, but it was not her place.

  “My lady,” Buckley said. “Do not despair. I am sure we will make a dancer of Prudence yet.”

  “She is nothing but an embarrassment to me, ” Lady Blenborough said.

  Lucy bit her lip. How could Lady Blenborough treat her daughter so callously? With patience, the girl could learn to execute the steps, but her mother obviously had taken a disgust of her own daughter. Lucy found it painful to witness.

  “Lady Blenborough,” Mr. Buckley said, “I shall return next week to help Prudence in her dance lessons.”

  “There will be no more lesson
s,” Lady Blenborough said. “My daughter is hopeless. I have no more need of your services. You are dismissed.” She waved her hand.

  Buckley glared at Lucy as if she’d done something wrong and took her by the upper arm as they quit the drawing room. “I’m reducing your pay,” he said. “See that you do not consort with the servants again.” Then he handed over half the coins that were due her. Lucy held in the anger threatening to boil over until they exited the servant’s entrance. It wasn’t the first time he’d found an excuse to reduce her pay, but it still infuriated her.

  Once they reached the pavement, Lucy turned on Buckley. “I did nothing wrong. The cook offered me a roll, because I arrived early. You owe me the rest of my wages.”

  “How dare you question me. You are lucky I hired you. If it weren’t for me, you would have no job. I’ll not tolerate your insolence.” He took a step closer and the smell of strong drink was on his breath as usual. “See that you remember it.”

  She clenched her fists as she strode off. If it weren’t for her, he would have to exert himself and actually teach the dance lessons. As much as she despised him, she needed the job, but he would continue to cheat her. She must find other employment. There was much she didn’t have, but she was smart and educated. All she needed was one person to give her a chance.

  Lucy walked to Oxford Street and popped inside a milliner’s shop. A pudgy woman greeted her. “I’m Mrs. Jamison, proprietor. How may I help you?”

  “I’m looking for work,” Lucy said. “I’m experienced with sewing and trimming bonnets.”

  “I am sorry, but my daughters assist me. Good luck to you, miss.”

  “Thank you,” Lucy said. She quit the shop and made her way to Piccadilly. She walked inside the Burlington Arcade. There were multiple shops and she meant to inquire about a position at as many as she could today.

  Four hours later, she’d made little progress. No one seemed to need the services of a seamstress or milliner today.

  She stopped at a costermonger’s stand to buy meat pasties for dinner and hoped that she would find a job quickly. The rent was due in two days, and she had only one option left.

  Lucy managed only a few bites of the pie that evening. It was hard to concentrate on anything because of her fears. She got up to stir the coals, because it was something to do other than sit and fret over what she must do.

  When it grew dark, Lucy bid her grandmother good night and went to her room. She set the candle on the night table and opened the drawer. When she drew out a velvet pouch, her hands shook a little. She rubbed her thumb on the fuzzy velvet surface and opened the drawstring. Her heart ached as she took out her mother’s pearls. She fingered the clasp where a short chain with a tiny gold heart dangled. Lucy remembered her mother used to let her touch the pearls when she was a little girl. Now she would give anything to hug her mother just once more.

  Her stomach clenched. It was so hard to give up her one remaining link to her mother, but she had barely slept the past two nights wondering how she would manage to keep a roof over their heads.

  She kissed the pearls and put them back in the pouch. Then she closed the drawer and brushed away the tears. There was no other choice. She had to pay the rent.

  Tomorrow, she would pawn the pearls…

  The next morning, Lucy bargained hard with the pawnbroker. Even so, she knew the pearls were worth more than she’d gotten for them. After she left, she swiped at the tears tracking down her face. The important thing was that she had enough money to pay the rent for another month. She lifted her chin, but she felt a little empty as she strode away.

  She inquired about work again at several shops she’d missed at the Burlington Arcade yesterday, but the proprietors of the other dress shops did not have a vacancy. None of the eight milliners, hosiers, or glovers had open positions, either.

  Lucy walked along Piccadilly, turned on St. James, and found herself on King Street. A boy stood outside of a large building and called out to those passing by. “Servers needed for Almack’s. Wednesday nights,” the boy called out. “Must be clean and polite.”

  An older, white-haired gentleman dressed in elegant clothing opened the doors. Lucy did not hesitate. She ran to him and bobbed a curtsy. “Sir, I understand servers are needed. I’d be obliged if you would consider me.”

  “I’m Mr. Wilson, master of ceremonies,” he said. “Come inside.”

  Lucy followed him. Once past the foyer, her eyes widened upon seeing the enormous mirrors that reflected the stately columns. A half-circular balcony was suspended high above the floor.

  “You have a refined accent, young lady,” Mr. Wilson said.

  “I’m educated, sir, but my family has fallen on hard times.” She swallowed. “If it pleases you, Mr. Wilson, I would like to apply for the position.”

  “The pay isn’t much for serving once a week—only a shilling.”

  “I’d be grateful for the work, sir.”

  His white bushy brows furrowed. “Do you have other employment, miss?”

  “I assist a dance master during the day, sir,” she said. “I’m more than willing to do other work.” She bit her lip, fearing he would reject her.

  “Very well. Come to the back door on Wednesday in a sennight at seven sharp in the evening,” Mr. Wilson said. “You mustn’t be late. The lady patronesses are unforgiving.”

  “I won’t be late. Thank you, sir.” Elated at the opportunity, she started to turn away when Mr. Wilson cleared his throat. “Miss, what is your name?”

  “Lucy Longmore, sir.”

  Mr. Wilson considered her for a moment. He took her hand and set coins in her palm. Then he closed her fingers over them.

  Temptation gripped her, but in the end, pride won. “Sir, I cannot take the money. I’ve not earned it.”

  He clasped his hands behind his back. “When I was a young man and desperate for employment, a kind soul helped me. I swore that one day I would do the same for someone else. Will you allow me to do so now?”

  She suspected he’d concocted the story, but she could hardly refuse without insulting him. “Very well,” she said, putting the coins in a small purse she hid in her apron. “Thank you, sir.”

  “Godspeed, dear. We will see you at Almack’s next week.”

  Her spirits rose as she walked out and crossed the street, dodging the mud and horse droppings. She realized she was near the place where she’d threatened the handsome stranger with her knife last night. In retrospect, she thought she’d misjudged him, but she shook off her guilt. A rich man like him hardly needed her sympathy. Her survival and that of her grandmama depended on keeping her wits about her.

  She slowed her step as she neared a large building. A well-dressed gentleman handed over his horse’s reins to a groom. Lucy had heard of the Albany, the famous gentleman’s quarters. It occurred to her that she might inquire about employment there. Surely a place designated for bachelors would require the services of maids. Now that she had a letter of character, she had a far better chance of finding decent employment. She told herself not to get her hopes up, but she had nothing to lose, so she rapped the knocker.

  Two hours later, Lucy had passed muster with Mrs. Finkle, the head housekeeper. The rules were simple enough. All she had to do was clean until the rooms were spotless, and of course, she mustn’t fraternize with the gentlemen residents. Lucy had no intention of jeopardizing her new position. She was thrilled that her pay would be twice what she made assisting Buckley. For the first time in six months, she dared to hope that she and Grandmama might improve their circumstances.

  Mrs. Norcliffe’s drawing room, that same afternoon

  “I am exceedingly concerned about attendance at Almack’s,” Mrs. Norcliffe, the newest patroness, said. “The gentlemen have been abandoning our fair temple of respectability in droves these last few years. Something must be done.”

  Lady Jersey sniffed. “One would think that the quadrille would entice the gentlemen.”

  Mrs. Norclif
fe thought no such thing, but as the newest patroness, she kept silent. Everybody knew that Lady Jersey had introduced the quadrille to Almack’s. “I will be honest, ladies. I have a personal concern in seeing Almack’s returned to its former popularity with all of the beau monde.”

  Lady Cowper, whom everyone knew was having an affaire de coeur with Lord Palmerstone, sighed. “I believe we must resort to stronger measures, but, Mrs. Norcliffe, you speak of your own concerns. Does this perchance relate to Granfield?”

  Mrs. Norcliffe set her dish of tea aside. “My son refuses to leave his rooms at the Albany, even though he is now a duke. I fear he will take after his bachelor uncle, God rest his soul. The dukedom is in jeopardy. I must find my son a bride, for he surely will not pursue it.”

  Lady Castlereagh sniffed. “Well, if there is no heir, he has no choice.”

  Mrs. Norcliffe sighed. “I’ve tried for years to put suitable young ladies of good breeding and fortune in my son’s way. Naturally he wants nothing to do with any of them, but I must find him a bride soon. He desperately needs an heir and a spare.”

  “I’ve yet to meet a bachelor who did not resist marriage,” Lady Cowper said. “My advice is to trap him.”

  “Oh, dear,” Mrs. Norcliffe said. “I could not lower myself to such tactics.” Not yet, at any rate.

  Mrs. Drummond-Burrell, known as one of the highest sticklers, drew her quizzing glass to her eye. “You must find a way to entice Granfield. He will want someone young and pretty with at least ten thousand for her marriage portion.”

  Princess Esterhazy’s eyes twinkled. “A few years ago, that rakehell Mr. Darcett lured Miss Amy Hardwick into a cellar overnight. They were forced to wed.”

  “Oh, dear,” Mrs. Norcliffe said, fanning her face.

  “Let us not forget that His Grace has already inherited a fortune,” Lady Jersey said. “You need stronger inducement, Mrs. Norcliffe. I recommend an introduction to a beautiful young woman. If all goes well, he will conceive a grand passion for her.”

  “He’s likely to run the other way,” Mrs. Drummond-Burrell said. “The author of Pride and Prejudice got it wrong in my opinion. Everybody knows a single man in possession of a fortune must be in want of his freedom.”