What a Devilish Duke Desires

by Vicky Dreiling

  “Yes.” He frowned and added, “With your permission, I wish to ask Miss Radburn to dance again, provided she is amenable.”

  Harry couldn’t tell for certain if Everleigh truly wished to partner with Mina or if he felt obligated. The latter concerned him. He took a deep breath and said, “I imagine there are ways to bow out, if you or my cousin so desire,” Harry said. “After all, it is highly unusual to dance with the same partner for an entire evening, much less week after week.”

  Everleigh stared into his brandy glass as if looking for a suitable response. “Well, I certainly would be most honored to dance with Miss Radburn every Wednesday night, provided she accepts my request—with your permission of course.”

  Harry sipped his brandy. “Let us metaphorically lay our cards faceup on the table, shall we?”

  “Of course,” Everleigh said. “What do you wish to know?”

  Harry set his glass aside. “First, it cannot have escaped your notice that partnering my cousin several times this season will result in…shall we say expectations.”

  Everleigh frowned. “Well, I had hoped, er, I very much…”

  Harry leaned forward. “The cards are faceup, Everleigh. Now is the time to be honest.”

  The tops of Everleigh’s ears grew red as he looked at the table. “With your approval and that of Miss Radburn, I very much wish to continue as her dancing partner.”

  “Everleigh,” Harry said, and waited for him to look him in the eyes.

  When the man met his gaze, Harry sighed. “If you continue to dance exclusively with my cousin, everyone will likely expect you to propose to Mina for honor’s sake. Are you prepared for that eventuality?”

  “Of course,” Everleigh said, a little too quickly.

  Harry considered Everleigh’s response. “Are you certain? If that is not your wish, we will contrive a reason for you to bow out, such as a sudden illness of one of your relatives.”

  “I intend to continue,” Everleigh said.

  “Let me emphasize that I’m not trying to press you,” Harry said. “You might as well know I won’t let her wed unless I’m absolutely certain that the man adores her. Mina lost her parents when she was only ten years old. I’ll not see her suffer again.”

  Everleigh inhaled. “When I asked about her family, she told me about the tragedy. I very much wish to continue in the dancing competition with her, provided it is still her wish.”

  “I suspect that it is.”

  After a long pause, Everleigh’s expression grew anxious. “I fear I have given the wrong impression.”

  “I see.” Mina would be terribly disappointed, but better that than enter into a marriage because one or the other felt obligated. Mina deserved someone who loved her dearly.

  Everleigh drew in a sharp breath. “I wish…I mean I hope by the end of the dancing competition that Miss Radburn will do me a great honor.” Everleigh’s cheeks grew as red as his hair.

  Harry’s brows rose. “You’re certain.”

  “Yes, I am,” Everleigh said. “I couldn’t bear it if she married another man.”

  Harry smiled. “Well, then, you are free to court her. Care for another round?” Harry asked. “The night is still early.”

  “No thanks,” Everleigh said. “Another time, perhaps?”

  “Yes, of course.”

  Harry sipped his brandy. Everleigh’s certainty about marrying Mina made him think about his own life. He’d been a bachelor for thirteen long years. Back when he was eighteen, he and Colin had gotten into one scrape after another. They’d sneaked women and bottles into their rooms at Oxford and later at the Albany. While some of it was hilarious in retrospect, he didn’t miss puking his guts out after a hard night’s drinking and the inevitable morning after where he had the devil of a headache. Ye gods, had he really ever thought that was amusing?

  He walked to the foyer, wrapped his scarf around his neck, and stepped outside of White’s. His carriage waited for him a block away. He couldn’t help remembering that first night he’d met Lucy on the street and her advice to him. Damn, she’d surprised and intrigued him that night, and she’d continued to do so every time they’d met since then.

  When he climbed into his carriage, he picked up the cane and tapped it on the ceiling. He was all too aware of how much he thought about Lucy. It was like a madness of sorts. The women in his past had been jaded widows who lasted no longer than a night or two in his bed. Back then, he’d just been looking to slake his lust with a willing widow.

  What he felt for Lucy was not simple lust. There was nothing simple about his feelings. He desired her, but he also felt protective of her. He worried about her safety, and yet he admired her courage. Then, there were the external obstacles that she insisted they could not cross. Those obstacles never gave him pause, but she was adamant that they could not overcome class barriers. He didn’t believe it, but she did, and that was a problem, one he meant to overcome.

  Harry envied Everleigh and wished matters with Lucy weren’t so blasted complicated. But he vowed to pursue her. He would never give up and he would never let her go.

  Friday morning

  Lucy kissed her grandmother’s cheek. “You are almost finished knitting the left mitten.”

  “Yes, I am close. Once this one is done, I’ll start the other. When I finish one dozen, will you take them to the workhouse for me?”

  “I will.” She was amazed by and very proud of her grandmother. Because of her lack of sight, she’d taught herself to knit by touch.

  Lucy walked to the peg to retrieve her cloak. She sighed, wishing she didn’t have to leave her grandmother alone today.

  “Are you tired, dear? You arrived home after midnight.”

  “I’m fine. The walk will leave me feeling energetic,” Lucy said.

  “I suppose the duke was among the crème de la crème at Almack’s.”

  “Yes, I saw him there,” Lucy said.

  “You sound disappointed,” Grandmama said.

  “Not at all. It was as I expected. He was quite popular with the wealthy ladies. I’d better hurry. Tonight, I will tell you about last night’s dance competition.”

  “I look forward to hearing about it,” Grandmama said. “How very strange that the quality is holding a dance competition. I wonder what prompted such an odd turn of events.”

  “Perhaps they are bored with their too perfect lives and must invent new amusements.”

  Grandmama chuckled. “Undoubtedly, you are correct. And you are giving dance lessons to Mrs. Vernon’s daughters?”

  “Yes, I am. The girls will repeat last week’s lesson to ensure they have the steps memorized, and then we will work on hops and jetés. Directly afterward, I’m teaching Mrs. Rohan’s children. Then it’s off to the Albany. Next week, I’ll be teaching the Rylander children as well. I’m obliged to Mrs. Vernon for recommending me to her friends.” But she needed far more clients if she were to support herself teaching dance. There would always be those who dropped the instruction or left the city for a holiday at Brighton. She had an opportunity now thanks to Mrs. Vernon, and she must seize additional ones.

  “It does sound as if Mrs. Vernon is a sensible lady,” Grandmama said.

  “Today marks the third time I’ve taught her daughters. Mrs. Vernon seems to be a fair and caring mother—unlike Lady Blenborough.”

  “That poor child,” Grandmama said. “How could Lady Blenborough be so cruel?”

  “I don’t know,” Lucy said. “It broke my heart to see Prudence’s misery.”

  Lucy pulled the hood of her cape up. “After the dance lesson, I will report to the Albany and then I will return home late this afternoon.”

  Grandmama frowned. “I wish you did not have to go into service.”

  “I don’t mind. Really, a little cleaning never hurt anybody. Unlike those who work at the large country mansions, I’m able to leave after I finish for the day. Then I can spend the entire evening with you.”

  Grandmama rose and used
her stick as she followed Lucy to the door.

  “Latch the door after me,” Lucy said, and hurried her step.

  While the wind was a bit brisk, the sun was out, and that made her journey to Grosvenor Square pleasanter. The chirping of starlings in the trees made her wish she could take Grandmama to the park today, but if she were frugal, perhaps they could take a hackney to the park in a fortnight.

  She turned into the square and saw Buckley leaning on a walking stick by the gates. His presence irritated her, but she was determined to ignore him. She avoided eye contact as she walked past, but he limped beside her. “Is this how you planned to get rid of me? By causing my fall so you could steal my clients?”

  “You fell because you were unsteady from drinking spirits.”

  “You spewed lies about me to Mrs. Vernon.”

  She scoffed. “You must have hit your head and knocked your brains about. I had nothing to do with your dismissal.”

  “If you mean to poach my clients, you had better watch your back. I’ll make you pay.”

  She didn’t take his bluster seriously. “Buckley, you reek of spirits now. You brought trouble upon yourself. I had nothing to do with it.”

  When he tried to grab her, Lucy scuttled out of his reach. “If you come near me again, I’ll scream my head off.”

  Just then, a large footman opened the door. “Leave the lady be, sir, or I’ll send the watch after you.”

  Buckley glared at her. “You haven’t seen the last of me.”

  When the footman strode toward them, Buckley hobbled off.

  In the aftermath, Lucy shuddered. She would have to resort to carrying her knife in her basket again. While Buckley had never been violent before, she thought it best to be prepared. If anything happened to her, there would be no one to take care of her grandmother.

  “He didn’t hurt you, did he, miss?” the footman asked.

  “No, he did not. Thank you for your assistance,” she said. “I’ll go around to the servant’s entrance.”

  “Mrs. Vernon bade me to tell you to come in through the foyer. She saw him by the gate and wanted me to escort you safely inside.”

  She winced. “He’s liable to return again. Mrs. Vernon ought to know.”

  “I believe she is aware of that possibility.”

  “I’d best go up,” she said.

  After she reached the drawing room, Lucy curtsied. “Thank you, Mrs. Vernon.”

  “We will speak after the lesson,” she said, sliding her gaze to her daughters.

  “Very well.” Lucy looked at the girls. “Shall we begin?”

  The two girls stood before her.

  “Today I will demonstrate the difference between a hop and a jeté. Are you familiar with them?”

  “A little,” the elder sister said, “but we have not practiced for many months.”

  “I fear I was a bit too indulgent during the winter months,” Mrs. Vernon said.

  “I understand,” Lucy said. “Today’s lesson should be fairly straightforward. With a hop, you land on the same foot. A jeté involves taking off and landing on the opposite foot. Watch me and then you will practice.”

  After the girls mastered the jeté, she clapped her hands. “Excellent. Your mother will be very proud of you. Since you did so well, we will work on the waltz traveling step. I’m sure you will both do very well. It is up, up, up, on the balls of your feet and down. That’s four counts up and one count down. When you sink to your heels, you will perform a plié. Now follow me and remember not to worry about making mistakes. Practice makes perfect.”

  “You are always so nice to us,” Marie said.

  She’d learned from watching her mother’s gentle teaching. “You are doing very well and encouragement is far more helpful than criticism,” Lucy said. “Imagine your arms are as light as air. Think of the gracefulness of a butterfly’s wings. Your wrists, elbows, and knees are pliant. When you perform the movements, you focus on the lightness of your steps. Now, my butterflies, we will practice the waltz traveling step once more with grace and lightness. Step up, up, up, on the balls of your feet and sink with lightness into a plié. Oh, that was wonderful, girls. I’m so proud of you,” Lucy said.

  As the lesson came to a close, Lucy curtsied. “You are to be commended, girls. You did very well today.”

  “You may be excused now,” Mrs. Vernon said to her daughters.

  After they left, Lucy regarded Mrs. Vernon with guilt. “I fear I’ve drawn Buckley back to your residence. He insists I’m responsible for his dismissal.”

  “He is a typical drunkard,” Mrs. Vernon said. “They blame others for all their misfortunes.”

  Lucy’s heart beat hard. Mrs. Vernon evidently had more than a little experience with it. Lucy’s father had started drinking spirits after her mother died and blamed everybody but himself for his troubles. In truth, he’d complained endlessly of illness, but Lucy had known it was the effects of the strong spirits he drank much of the day.

  “I’ll ensure a footman is stationed near the gate next week,” Mrs. Vernon said. “I won’t allow that man near my property.”

  “I understand,” Lucy said.

  “You are an excellent teacher.” She paused and said, “I would like to help you if you are amenable.”

  She didn’t want to get her hopes up too high, but she crossed her fingers in the folds of her skirts.

  “I told some of my friends that you are an accomplished dance instructor. Several of the ladies have a strong interest in watching your methods. I know you serve at Almack’s and are aware of the dancing competition.”

  Lucy nodded. “Yes, I know about the competition.”

  “You might profit from demonstrating your teaching methods to some of the ladies of the ton. Are you interested?”

  Her pulse leaped. “I welcome the opportunity. It is very kind of you.”

  “Very well.” Mrs. Vernon sat at the corner desk, pulled out a sheet of paper, opened an inkwell, and paused. “Shall I write the address?”

  Lucy regarded the paper. “Yes, please. I don’t want to forget.”

  Mrs. Vernon looked up. “Were you educated at home or at school?”

  “At home. My late mother taught me.”

  Mrs. Vernon nodded. “You are far too talented and refined to work for the likes of Buckley. I assume your family fell on hard times.”

  “Yes, madame.”

  Mrs. Vernon finished writing the address, sanded the ink, and handed the paper to Lucy. “The address is in Grosvenor Square. Do you know it?”

  “Yes, I know the square.”

  “Excellent. Now here’s a tip. Lady Jersey will be in attendance. She takes great pride in having introduced the quadrille to Almack’s. If I were you, I would focus on that dance.”

  “Thank you for the advice,” Lucy said. “It helps to be prepared.”

  Mrs. Vernon cleared her throat. “I do not wish to sound presumptuous, but if you are ever in need, I hope you will come to me.”

  Lucy curtsied. “You are kind, Mrs. Vernon. I appreciate your recommendations for my dance lessons.”

  She hesitated a moment. “In all confidence, my own family went through difficult times. I was able to make a good marriage and escape the difficulties. Our circumstances may not be the same, but I know the challenges a single woman faces.”

  Lucy nodded. “Thank you for sharing your story. I will keep it in strict confidence.”

  “My girls like you very much, and I would be disappointed if you did not prevail upon me in a time of need.”

  “I appreciate your offer very much,” Lucy said. She’d struggled for the past six months and sometimes late at night she worried. Thus far, she’d managed, but it was a relief to know that there was help if she ever found herself in a bind.

  One week later

  Lucy tucked the paper with the address in her apron, donned her cloak, and kissed her grandmother on the cheek. “Wish me luck with the dance practice in Mrs. Norcliffe’s drawing room toda
y,” she said. “I understand there will be ladies and gentlemen there.”

  “I know you’ll do very well,” Grandmama said. “You have the address?”

  “Yes, it should be no trouble to find,” Lucy said, “but I’m leaving early to be sure.”

  “Hopefully, you will add new clients.”

  “For now, I will concentrate on making sure everyone is able to follow the steps,” Lucy said. “Now I must be off.”

  She set out at a brisk pace going west on Oxford Street, passing over Regent and Bond Streets until she reached the address in Grosvenor Square. Upon arrival, she went to the servant’s entrance. The housekeeper bade her to follow a footman upstairs. When she gained the landing, Lucy heard numerous voices, both male and female. Her lungs constricted for a moment, but she knew it was imperative that she appear confident and capable. If the lessons went well today, she might gain more adult clients.

  After the footman opened the drawing room doors, Lucy took a deep breath, walked inside, and curtsied. She rose to find more than a dozen ladies and three gentlemen staring at her, one of whom was a young buck.

  Mrs. Vernon smiled at her and leaned toward another lady, who looked familiar. For a moment, Lucy had difficulty placing the unknown woman, and then she recalled the lady who had spoken at Almack’s. It was Mrs. Norcliffe, the woman who had scowled at her near Madame Delanger’s shop. Lucy’s pulse quickened. Mrs. Norcliffe lifted her quizzing glass. “Miss Longmore, do join us,” Mrs. Norcliffe said. “Mrs. Vernon recommended you.”

  Lucy curtsied again. “I am honored.”

  “You look familiar,” Mrs. Norcliffe said. “Where have I seen you before?”

  Another lady whispered to her.

  Mrs. Norcliffe’s lips parted. She regarded Lucy with narrowed eyes. “Ah, now I recollect. You served lemonade at Almack’s.”

  “Yes, madame,” she said. Her heart beat quickly. Mrs. Norcliffe seemed displeased. But why?

  Mrs. Norcliffe sniffed. “So, Miss Longmore, are you a dance instructor or a servant?”

  “Both, madame.”

  “I find it rather unusual for a female to teach dance,” Mrs. Norcliffe said. “In my experience, all dance masters are gentlemen.”