The Wild Duchess/The Willful Duchess (The Duchess Club Book 1)

by Renee Bernard

  “Of course, I did. I only came out to cheer you on. I have no interest in prancing about and trying to win a man who will only seek to boss me about and keep me from my books. I will teach at Bellewood, Scarlett, and I just have to wait patiently for Father to come around to the idea.”

  “I know you’ve always hoped for it and Mother is already in your corner, dearest. But I thought that being here might evoke—I secretly liked the idea of us together, making a splash in society and… I’m an idiot, aren’t I?”

  “You are many things, but I’ll shake you till those curls come down if you try to claim to be anything less than intelligent. You can beat Uncle Darius at chess, so stop that.”

  The strains of music drifted out again from the ballroom and Scarlett’s mood faltered. “God, I wish this was a chess game.”

  “It is, dearest. It’s a meaningless game. That’s all it is, Scarlett.”

  “Well, I don’t wish to play anymore tonight.”

  “Then don’t. I am certainly not placing any bets on the table or grabbing more names for another dance card this evening.” Starr swept her hands over her skirts. “I love you. You’re an incorrigible romantic clinging to that potted palm in tears but you’d shove me out into it, wouldn’t you?”

  “Life is full of contradictions. I’m mourning my own botched dances and you’re kicking yours under carpets. We’re quite a pair!”

  “Will you be all right?”

  “Yes. Please. Please go back in! They’re all stupid enough to be confused and think we’re both having a lovely time. I doubt they’ll question a thing.”

  “Very well. I’ll cross the room a time or two and see if I can’t throw off the hounds. But Mrs. Martin is not going to be fooled. I’ll let her know that you are safe in this jungle and we can look for you here before we leave.”

  “Poor Mrs. Martin! I think she is enjoying this even less than we are, if that’s possible.”

  Starr nodded. “I don’t think acting as our chaperone is anything she’d have imagined for herself. She possesses too gentle a nature and is openly relieved to stand with me in corners.”

  “Which makes her the perfect chaperone for you,” Scarlett added with a sad smile. “What a mess we are, sister.”

  “Are you sure you don’t want company?”

  “No, please. I meant it. I want you to go in and make a grand show. My pride can’t take another turn and I need you to—I couldn’t bear it if there is talk of me hiding in here.”

  “All right. No fear. I’ll see to everything and then collect you before we go.”

  “Thank you.” Scarlett watched her sister leave as she drew on an invisible mantle of feigned confidence and happiness as a favor to her twin. Scarlett retreated into the shadows of the palms and sought out a small settee nestled out of sight of any doorway but one that was bathed in moonlight from the windows. An arch of pink tea roses provided an elegant cover and she tried to imagine that she was waiting for the evening to begin and not hiding in a conservatory praying it was already over.

  “I take it your evening is not going as you’d hoped?” A male voice quietly broke through her illusion of solitude and a gentleman stepped out from a grotto of ivy and orange trees. She could not entirely make out his features but the pale light struck him from the chest downward and she could see that he was dressed in the height of fashion with a dignity that made his presence amidst the palm fronds even more jarring.

  Scarlett jumped up with a squeak, her face growing hot. “Nonsense! I had long hoped for a glittering night filled with humiliation and the delights of conversations that centered on how fascinating it is that I was born as I was. What girl doesn’t?” Her fingers flew to her lips regret nearly overriding everything. “I’m sorry. I—tend to speak without thinking when I’m nervous…or startled.”

  “I apologize. I was hiding from the mob myself when you came in and then I hated to interrupt such a lovely exchange with your sister.”

  “Why were you hiding?”

  “That’s easy enough. I’m a bachelor. It’s an unforgivable crime at my age and where the hunt is diligent when you’re young, it is apparently much more keen when you are older. Like vultures circling over my carcass.” He sighed. “Not that I’m on my deathbed just yet but after a night of listening to Mrs. DeWalters describe the delights of her eldest daughter’s embroidery skills and fondness for babies, I think I envy men who have the excuse of lying abed tonight.”

  Scarlett smiled. “You are not a great fan of embroidery?”

  “Is anyone?”

  She laughed and he did as well.

  “Miss Blackwell, come. Sit back down and enjoy your escape. I’ll hide in the opposite corner here in the dark and leave you to it if you wish.”

  “Oh, no! Stay and with no fear of me. I have a deep respect for bachelors and I won’t reveal you if you swear to do me the same courtesy.”

  “Thank you. We shall hide together in safety then.” He took his place across from her, an elegant and resplendent figure even in the shadows. “Though I confess, I am interested to know what drives such a beautiful young woman into Aldridge’s shrubbery.”

  “After years of anticipation, I seem to have fallen short of the mark. Well, that’s not all of it. I may have imploded the mark when I told Lady Beales that being a twin did not require any miraculous talent on my part and that anyone who thinks having a sibling is a skill probably should worry about the concentration they think is needed to breathe.”

  He laughed so heartily she didn’t have time to regret her speech.

  “Come now. You’ve been a twin all your life. This can’t be new—people’s curiosity, the unthinking comments?”

  “No, but—I foolishly thought on the night of my debut that I would…just be myself and not one of two. I was so excited to be wearing a different colored gown than Starr’s, so confident that we are each so different. I knew that tonight would be wonderful.” Her eyes became shiny with unshed tears. “I’m disappointed that when I’m myself, it turns out I am…not sufficient.”

  “You could be perfection and they wouldn’t allow you to know it, especially with that perfection multiplied by two,” he said softly. “You’re Gordon Blackwell’s granddaughter, aren’t you?”

  “Yes.”

  “There you have it. If they’re unkind, it’s because they’re envious of you. You’re pretty enough to outshine their less lovely offspring and certainly brighter. That alone would be an unforgiveable offense for most of them but you have an even worse hindrance to overcome. You have the upstart pedigree of a man who could have pulled off a dragon’s wings and then made the poor beast thank him for it. They aren’t going to come close to breaking you, Miss Blackwell, but it’s in their nature to try.”

  “Why is that? Why must they be so cruel?”

  He shrugged. “There is something that is at once repugnant and irresistible to the aristocracy about new money. Your grandfather made his own fortunes and your father had the cheek to do the impossible and do even better for himself and add to your family’s coffers without harming a single soul or making enemies along the way. They covet the resources, envy the good fortunes of another and despise the audacity of a lesser soul for daring to rise to their level or even to go above them. You see, they want to believe that there is something unnatural about the success of others, while their own or a peer’s is taken for granted as a given—a natural state to compliment their superior existence.”

  Scarlett shook her head. “You’re a gentleman. How is it that you aren’t at the head of that school of thought?”

  “I never did enjoy school. Besides if their way of thinking is true, then it is an ugly truth. I prefer to think that truth and beauty make better companions. At least, they do from my vantage point and certainly with what I’m looking upon.”

  “And what are you looking at?”

  “I am looking at the miracle of you, Miss Scarlett Blackwell. All the other girls are out there simpering into their fan
s and you are giving as good as you get, and with such grace!”

  She gasped then laughed. “What a thing to say! Trust me, there was no grace in that run in with Lady Shackleton’s little dog. I don’t expect too many more invitations, so I shall thank you for the compliment as I slink off into anonymity. Though it is unsettling the way you know my name and I don’t know yours, sir.”

  “I am Elgin York, the Duke of Chesterton.”

  “You are not, and that’s not funny to tease.” Scarlett smiled. “I’m not meeting a duke hiding in a conservatory anymore than I’m meeting the queen in a garden, or an emperor in a haberdashery.”

  “Are you sure?” He held his ground.

  She began to make another quick jest until she realized that he truly didn’t sound repentant and that considering how her evening had unfolded, the impossible might just have landed on the bench across from hers. “Oh, dear.”

  He waited patiently for her to recover.

  Scarlett sighed. “I’d run but I swear I can’t feel my knees, Your Grace.”

  “Then stay. I felt so much less foolish having someone to talk to in here so I’m glad you aren’t dashing off.”

  “I can hardly believe it.” Scarlett’s humor returned. “I’ve insulted a duke. My diary entry tonight will be epic.”

  “I was never insulted. It was charming and very innocent on your part. In all honesty, I was considering lying and saying I was nothing at all.”

  “You’ve been a duke your entire life. You can’t dodge it now.”

  “No, I suppose not. But as I look at you, I find I am grateful anew for the privileges of rank.”

  “How is that?”

  “I’ve been struck with an idea, one that may benefit us both as refugees from the cold stares and evil schemes of the Ton.” He shifted forward slightly, the moonlight through the glass gleaming off of the pearl buttons of his waistcoat and the silver hair at his temples. “It is a potentially wicked plan.”

  “What kind of plan?”

  “A plan that gets us both out of this jungle. I am not in need of a wife, Miss Blackwell, and past it even if I wished one. But I am in need of a way to get through this Season without my ankles getting raw from all the matronly nipping. I want to enjoy this time around the carousel without being harangued and harassed. And you seem to be in need of a way to get your footing out there. You’re an heiress, Miss Blackwell, so I suspect all you require is the right shield to keep the wolves at bay. Once you’re at your full strength, you won’t need anything.”

  “I’m not sure I understand what you’re saying.”

  “How do you think they would treat you if you had a duke as a very foremost admirer and suitor?”

  Scarlett blinked. “You just said you didn’t need a wife.”

  “I don’t. But if it looks as if I’ve set my sights on a lovely young heiress, who’s to question it?”

  “They will question your sanity.”

  “Nonsense. There would be nothing more natural.”

  “I am not in your social class, fortune or not. I agree that I would instantly gain more than a small step up in standing with one dance perhaps, but beyond that, I don’t see what you have to gain from any prolonged feigned attention, Your Grace.”

  “No? I disagree. I like the idea of a spirited girl gaining the upper hand over all that bellowing and puffing out there. And if we make a good show of it, then the effects will be permanent, Miss Blackwell, and you’ll have as many glittering evenings with the dance cards of your dreams as you wish.”

  Scarlett’s breath caught in her throat. A duke in tow. It’s so ridiculous and so…wonderfully unexpected. What a Season I might have!

  Elgin continued, “There is no hidden agenda here, Miss Blackwell. I already have an heir in my nephew. The man stands to take up the line but he is a rake and a rogue. God, I’d love to rattle him!” The duke shook his head as he laughed. “This idea appeals more and more as every second ticks by. I retract my statement that I have no hidden agenda. Apparently I am wicked enough to see several advantages to this game and causing my nephew to run in circles is at the top of the roster.”

  “You’ve only just met me, Your Grace. Surely you have a dozen women to choose from to take on such a role—and likely better actresses among them!”

  “I don’t want an actress and there is no one in my acquaintance I really trust. They would accept for all the wrong reasons, willfully misunderstand my aims or betray our scheme at the first chance to forward their own causes.” He shook his head then smiled at her. “The fact that you are reasoning this out and making me argue my plan gives me immense hope.”

  “Is this not a terribly risky proposition to make?”

  “Yes, but you have failed miserably to look mortified so far and the way your eyes are sparkling, I have the feeling I’m in no danger of scandal.”

  “I did fail to gasp, didn’t I?”

  “It is another aspect of your charm, Miss Blackwell.”

  “Your Grace, exactly what is it that you’re proposing?”

  “I’m proposing nothing excessive or improper. I shall simply make a show of pursuing your company in the days and weeks ahead under the watchful eyes of your chaperones and with all the rules of polite courtship intact. Then whenever I can, I shall sing your praises. All innocent acts in and of themselves, but the gossips should round it all out nicely, don’t you think?”

  “Never underestimate the power of gossip.” Scarlett fanned her face with her fingers. “What I mean to say is, I think you’re underestimating the power of gossip, Your Grace.”

  “Not at all. We’d be harnessing it. And what do I care? It’s a chance to make a splash, the thrill of a young woman on my arm again and the dark joy of twisting my nephew into apoplectic fits as he envisions a baby boy bouncing on your knee. Perhaps he’ll mend his ways?”

  “You make it sound so altruistic!” she exclaimed.

  “Would a philanthropic goal like that would appeal to you?”

  Scarlett nodded. “It doesn’t lessen it.”

  “What do you say, Miss Blackwell? Shall we amend both of our futures in one bold move?”

  “This isn’t a trick?”

  “What makes you ask?”

  “This feels treacherously easy. Father always says that if something sounds too fantastic for words, you’ll have words aplenty when it comes apart to make you a fool.”

  “You are no fool, Miss Blackwell. And if it starts to come apart, we shall stage a very public dismissal of my unwanted attentions and you’ll have an even jauntier feather for your cap after setting a duke down.”

  Scarlett pressed her palm against her heart. “Breaking someone’s heart is not cause for celebration, Your Grace.”

  “You’re not really going to break it, are you, Miss Blackwell?”

  “N-no, I just…” Scarlett sighed. “Sorry. As I have no feathers in my cap, jaunty or otherwise, I don’t think I have a good feel for such things.”

  He stood and held out his hand. “Gentlemen make contracts with a handshake, our honor our bond and our word the collateral of the soul.”

  “Oh, my!” Scarlett stood as well. “You’re sure of this?”

  “I give you my word. If you enter into this agreement, Miss Blackwell, then I shall be the duke at your feet in abject worship and all of London will be eager to please you as a result. Well, please you or topple you from the pedestal, depending on their dispositions. It will be a Season of choices…to give you a lifetime of choices. What say you?”

  She took a deep breath. It was such a huge leap and she had never contemplated anything without Starr’s presence at her side. But something in her rebelled, and the longing to step out on her own sprang up with a fierce weight all its own. It’s a bit of innocent theatre and…what harm? At the very least, I’ll have danced with a duke. What do I say to that?

  “I say, yes.” She reached out to take his hand, sealing the bargain. “I shall take you at your word, Your Grace.”


  His hand enfolded hers, firm and warm, and Scarlett’s throat tightened at the solemn gesture. My soul is the collateral and it is a bargain then…for I’ve shaken his hand.

  “Miss Blackwell?”

  “Yes?”

  “May I have the next dance?”

  “Oh! You—mean to start tonight? Truly? Here?”

  “I find, Miss Blackwell, that there is no time like the present to make good on a promise. Wouldn’t you agree?”

  Scarlett’s hold on his fingers tightened with fear. “I should be thrilled but I confess I really have made a mess of it already out there. If there is rotten fruit on hand, Lady Beales is bound to start throwing it if she catches sight of me. Perhaps…in friendlier waters next time?”

  “Nonsense. Where is your fighting spirit? The waters will never be friendlier.”

  “My fighting spirit might have taken a mortal blow when Mr. Murphy put his head in the punch bowl.”

  “Miss Blackwell.” He gave her a stern look that had probably left more than one footman in want of an escape though the effect was spoiled when he started to laugh. “You just gave me your word. Are you abandoning the plan so quickly?”

  “No.” Scarlett took a deep breath. “I shook your hand, didn’t I? And now that I’ve given you fair warning of what awaits us out there, I can accept with a clear conscience and then do my best to shield you from the biggest missiles. Lay on, MacDuff.”

  “It has been years since I’ve ventured out for a dance. Lay on, indeed.” He lifted his arm to tuck her hand into the crook of his elbow and walked her out of the conservatory into the hallway and back into the party.

  Scarlett took the liberty of discreetly studying her rescuer in brighter rooms and marveled that her duke was not as ancient as the shadows had made him seem though apparently he was her father’s age or a touch older. That was much older than any man she would consider as a potential suitor and she was mortified to imagine that the Duke of Chesterton probably knew as much. But he had kindly offered her a part in his scheme all the same. He was handsome enough with the silver touches at his temples and so stately with his striking features that Scarlett knew it was not necessarily a great leap of the imagination to see how the duke would appeal to any woman—young or old.