“Kind?” Paul’s eyes darkened with somber concern. “Kind is when someone returns a handkerchief you’ve dropped. I think three dances is something else.”
“Oh, Paul! Please don’t stare at me as if I’d announced I was eloping with a gypsy.” Scarlett reached over to take the bonnet off his head. “Dancing is the goal of a ball, is it not?”
“True. But what did Mrs. Blackwell say when she heard of it? Or Mr. Blackwell?”
“Parson,” Scarlett sighed. “One does not tell one’s parents of such things if there is truly nothing else to say.”
Paul had known her far too long to be put off. “Nothing else to say? About a duke? I thought they required a great deal of conversation. I mean that’s like saying you spoke to the queen and then dropping off all explanations. I think there’s a law against doing that, Scarlett.”
Scarlett crossed her arms defensively, unwittingly making a perfect impression of her father whenever he felt cornered. “What else would you like to know?”
“Which duke asked you to dance? How did it happen? And why aren’t you giddy about this? Why do you suddenly look so guilty?” he offered. “I’d start with those questions and be quite satisfied.”
“I do not look guilty! I am trying to be disciplined and alter the perception that I am a silly girl.”
“No one has that perception of you, Scarlett Blackwell. Stop trying to deflect the topic at hand,” Starr chimed in from her perch. “Answer Paul.”
Scarlett gave her twin a cutting look. “Whose side are you on?”
“Are there sides?” Starr asked innocently batting her eyelashes. “Oh, my.”
“Careful. I’ll tell Mother it was you who danced with the Duke of Chesterton and a simple case of mistaken identity and then whose side are you going to be on?”
Starr laughed. “I yield! I yield!”
“I was not a great social success but while I was lamenting in the conservatory that it should be against the law to set ones sights too high, the Duke of Chesterton came upon me and was very kind. He meant only to cheer me up and that is all,” Scarlett said then smiled. “Though the assumption of a romance doesn’t harm either of us and I’ve cheerfully agreed not to publicly correct anyone if they make such a leap of misguided logic.”
“Oh, dear.” Paul’s brow furrowed with concern. “If there’s a scheme, don’t say more. I want to be able to plead ignorance convincingly when I’m interrogated later.”
“You should come out with us, Paul. You can keep a brotherly eye out for trouble and I know your mother would love to see you in an evening coat.” Scarlett took his hands into hers. “You might even fall in love, Parson.”
“No, thank you. I’m about to start work with your father and I am in no position to pursue anyone. Besides, I’m trying to picture what young lady in society is going to delight in the attentions of the offspring of an East End firefighter and my imagination is coming up strangely empty-handed.” Paul laughed. “My time will come, Scarlett, but I’ve no desire to put one toe inside some overcrowded salon and run a gauntlet of gossips. I had my fill of my so-called betters at school and I do not wish to meet their sisters. I would rather be soundly beaten with clubs.”
“You sound like Starr. She deliberately lost her dance card to avoid the crush.”
“Which availed me nothing after Scarlett’s conquest. I was besieged with dance partners.” Starr pulled a face. “My feet may never recover.”
“Are you in love, Scarlett?” Paul asked. “With your duke?”
Starr sighed and spared her sister the effort to answer. “She is not. He was father’s age, though very nice. I thought him dashing but I don’t think he is what she was imagining for a beau.”
“Don’t be so unkind!” Scarlett picked up another bonnet, the distraction of ribbons and feathers useless in the moment. “Here, come put this one on and let’s see if we cannot salvage it before I am forced to just buy something new.”
“You are hardly in need of a new bonnet,” Starr said.
“Nonsense! A woman can never have too many.” Scarlett placed the piece on his head then tipped it to a saucy angle.
“Says who?” Starr asked.
“Says your father,” Paul supplied. “And well you both know it.”
Daisy, their mother’s lady’s maid, interrupted from the open doorway, “Poor Paul! Working for Mr. Blackwell as he does—I don’t think assisting you with millinery nonsense is part of his duties, you wicked girls!” Daisy gently nudged Scarlett aside and pulled the bonnet off his brown curls. “There you are. Dignity restored, young Master Paul.”
“Thank you, Daisy.”
“You mustn’t let them bully you into these things.”
“I don’t,” Paul replied. “Besides, what other man has such a vantage point into the mysteries of his sisters’ lives?”
“What other man has the patience?” Daisy countered, then smiled. “Mystery indeed! Well, your mother sent word that as you’ve recovered from your evening out, you’re to have luncheon in your room and then make sure you are pressed and polished to receive calls this afternoon. You must ring for Molly to help you dress and arrange your hair.”
“Do you think we’ll receive many calls, Daisy?” Scarlett asked quickly.
“A mountain of them, Miss Scarlett. Cards have been arriving since first light and…well, it’s quite a sight, isn’t it?”
Starr slowly closed her book. “A mountain of calls? Oh, dear. Is there any chance you could tell mother that I was suddenly taken with a headache and cannot—”
“There is no chance of it and how can you even jest about abandoning me to all of this?” Scarlett playfully threw the bonnet in question at her sister. “I will never forgive you if you take to your bed, Starr Blackwell. Do you hear me?”
“I hear you.”
Scarlett’s smile failed to fool anyone. She was as rattled by success as she’d been by the threat of failure and there was no remedy but experience.
Paul took her hand in his. “They are coming to pay their respects and make your better acquaintance. It’s not a firing squad, Scarlett. I promise.”
“Easy for you to say, Parson.” Scarlett leaned in and lowered her voice before she went on, “I fear it’s too late to take it all back.”
He nodded, his expression far too wise and sober for his years. “Just remember. That moment when fear tells us no, our greatest happiness may be a single brave breath away.”
“Or our doom,” she whispered.
“Yes, but who’s to say that either wouldn’t be an improvement to decorating bonnets and hiding in your room for the rest of your life?”
“You make a good point, Parson.”
Paul smiled. “I always try.”
“I wanted so much to fit in and to be…a success. I was going to find the man of my dreams. But I think I should have been wiser to set my sights on something easier.”
“Easier?” he asked.
“I should have applied myself to flying to the moon or discovering the alchemist’s formula for creating gold, shouldn’t I?” Scarlett’s voice fell to a whisper, all her bravado fading on a shaky breath. “I overstepped, Parson.”
“It isn’t possible, Lettie.” It was his turn to use her special secret name and evoke nurseries and the sanctuary that only family could offer. Only the twins and Paul knew their names for each other, Lettie and Tara, and the magic worked to calm her. “You have the world on a kite’s tail and all you have to do is reel it in.”
“All I have to do is reel it in,” she repeated then squared her shoulders and lifted her chin. “Who needs bonnets for that?”
“No one.” Starr joined them and they all embraced in a tight triumvirate united against the world.
Chapter 5
“Am I forgiven yet?” Starr asked.
Scarlett made a half-hearted attempt to look cross and then abandoned the exercise. Since the Duke of Stafford’s call and her twin’s glorious abandonment to face the dratted m
an alone, it had been a whirlwind of social calls. They’d received dozens and then been compelled to make as many of their own until Scarlett was fairly certain they’d seen every drawing room in London and drank enough polite cups of tea to fill the Thames.
“You are forgiven, Tara. I forgave you four days ago. I love every cautious and considerate bone in your body.” Scarlett smiled. “Just as I rely on you loving every impetuous and foolhardy bone in mine.”
After a long afternoon of calls, the girls settled into the carriage seats with renewed cheer. Mrs. Hastings had accompanied them and the bonus was that they now had the pleasure of going to her home and visiting one of their best friends, Ivy.
They saw her as often as they could whenever they were in London. Ivy’s debut hadn’t been formally set though it was clear to the twins that Mrs. Hastings was anxious for her daughter’s happiness. Even so, Starr and Scarlett knew that for Ivy happiness was already in her possession and would never have much to do with gowns and the giddy conversation of ballrooms.
The carriage slowed to a stop in front of an attractive small factory with brick frontwork and a large open gated courtyard and entrance. A wrought iron fence with a unique filigree pattern gave the utilitarian space a fairy-tale air and the sound of machinery was interspersed with the rhythm of hammer and chisel as men also worked stone and marble.
Their Uncle Josiah had the most singular home in all of England with his luxurious home perched on the top floors of a bustling manufacturing concern that he had funded and allowed to flourish. He had hired local craftsmen but also imported artisans to create a diverse company that offered custom furnishings, wrought iron and high-end railings and interior pieces and then just to keep his friends guessing, Josiah Hastings had installed a glass-blowing furnace and added stained glass and glass fancies to the company’s products. The success of his venture had brought new life to its neighborhood and a vast sense of pride to its inhabitants and workers. Indeed, it was said that the streets around Hastings Holdings were among the prettiest in London as every tenement, house and flat boasted a visible touch of glass, iron or woodwork from the talented hands at the factory.
Ivy was very proud of her father’s generosity and rightly so in her friend’s eyes. All of their fathers shared a charitable spirit and had done little to hoard their wealth. The fortunes of the tight circle of the Jaded had only grown over time as if the more they gave away the more money inexplicably fell into their hands.
The twins alighted in a flushed happy rush that ignored the protocol of graceful landings and restrained footsteps. Through the side gated entrance they skipped past the courtyard and into the building to the staircase that led up to the upper floors and private home of their friend.
“Mind yourselves, ladies!” Eleanor called up after them, but her voice rang with resignation. Stopping the girls from running into each meeting with their dear friend as if it were a reunion after years was a lost cause. Her pace was far more sedate as she resolutely faced multiple flights of stairs before she could reach the sanctuary of her parlor. Her husband had offered more than once to have a lift installed but Eleanor was wary of such inventions and was not about to put her life or the lives of her loved ones into a box that hoisted them into the air—and could heartlessly drop them if it chose to do so. It was an endless topic for debate but so far, her opinion had held. Even if it meant Josiah teased her sometimes when she returned from shopping or errands to say how much he loved to hear her breathless and sighing though he would prefer it not be from a climb but rather from his kisses.
As the sound of the girls greeting Ivy floated down the stairwell, Eleanor smiled. They would all be on the uppermost floor where the studios were located and visit there.
All is right with the world when our children are together and happy.
“Shall I carry you the rest of the way, dearest?”
Eleanor laughed as she realized that her husband had come out to greet her.
“I’m…fine.” She pressed her hand against her heartbeat with a smile. “Please allow a…woman to catch her breath.”
“Never. I love it when you’re breathless,” Josiah countered wickedly.
She laughed again. “You always say that!”
“Because it is always true. Come and kiss me, woman.”
She obliged him with an eager heart, as hungry for his touch now as she’d been the first time he’d reached for her. It was a weakness she’d long ago accepted and had delighted in coming to terms with over the years. “You are worth the climb.”
“A compliment I shall never tire of hearing,” he whispered, then kissed her forehead as his fingertips grazed across her lips and swept up her cheeks. “Come and have tea with me while the girls have their fun.”
“That sounds heavenly.” She tucked up against his side to walk into their apartments, subtly shifting to guide him if needed as they made their way inside. His sight had been irrevocably lost years before but very little of their life had been altered by the change. The house was familiar ground and his reclusive reputation aided the transition. He’d been losing his sight when they had met, nearly blind when they married and so adjustments were already in place. The only casualty had been his painting and as far as Eleanor was concerned, it was a significant enough loss to make it a tragedy though Josiah had merely shifted his creative energy in other directions refusing to mourn.
“How was the afternoon? Have you seen enough of the interior of other people’s sitting rooms to last a lifetime?”
“Ten lifetimes! I confess my interest in other people’s family connections, fashions and talk of what constitutes ladylike pursuits has waned to extinction. Thank goodness that Haley will be in Town before the week’s end. Lady Winters will make a far better show of it than I ever could.”
“Nonsense. No one can outshine you, darling.” His hand covered hers as she gently held his arm. “It will be good to see Galen again. He can steady Ashe’s nerves and sort out this duke nonsense.”
“It is hardly nonsense.”
“It can be nothing else. The Peerage does not dabble without an eye to position and gain. The twins are lucky to have Caroline as a mother. She is too practical a woman to allow her daughters to lose their heads.”
Eleanor squeezed his arm. “You can have Marcus Aurelius for a father and still get your head turned by a handsome man, Mr. Hastings. Wait until Ivy comes out…”
“Plenty of time for that.” His light humor fled at the suggestion that their only daughter was ready to leave the nest and Eleanor wisely dropped the topic for now.
For now, dear husband, but we cannot hold her back forever and once she sees her friends find their way, there will be no stopping her.
* * *
“Tell me everything!”
Ivy drew them over to a long padded window seat in her studio. It was separated from her father’s workspace by a wall of glass windows, some of them clear but most were various colors, samples of experiments from the glass factory on the ground floor. It gave the room a magical air as rainbows shifted across the plain wooden floors to compete with whatever color had been placed on the canvases.
Scarlett blinked as the trio settled in to talk. “That is quite a request!”
“It isn’t and don’t tease! You swore you’d tell me everything.” Ivy took off the cotton apron that protected her simple muslin day dress from paint stains. “I’m longing to hear it all and to live a bit vicariously through you.”
Scarlett smiled, her sense of humor revealing itself in a mischievous flash. “You aren’t a prisoner in a tower, you know. And you’d have been out this Season if you’d pouted and put on a show for it.”
Ivy laughed. “True! Well, perhaps, but I am in no rush for my own adventures when I can enjoy yours. All of the thrill with none of the risk, yes? Besides,” she paused, her eyes scanning over her beloved workroom, “what husband would ever put up with…this?”
Starr nodded and both girls looked at her with complete
empathy. Ivy was as keen on marriage as Starr—her attachment to her independence even more firmly carved in the path she hoped to take. Even so, it was only natural to be curious and more than a little jealous of the extensive wardrobe and attention the twins were enjoying.
“It’s a blur. You can ask Starr. She has a superior way with words.”
Ivy’s eyes lost a bit of their sparkle, her lips compressing infinitesimally to betray her frustration. “We have been friends since before we could walk, Scarlett Blackwell. If you truly think my mother did not come home in a state of flushed and raw exhaustion from sitting with you and your mother through a day of social calls and somehow then failed to mention that a duke had paid his respects then I suspect that something has gone terribly wrong. So, let’s have it, Scarlett.”
“It really isn’t…much of a story, Ivy.” Scarlett bit her lower lip. “I’m still trying to sort it out myself.”
“Did a duke call on you?”
“Yes, but not—it was not the duke I danced with and he is most definitely not a suitor.”
“Wait. There are two dukes?” Ivy gasped.
Scarlett held up her hands in protest. “No! It isn’t like that. It’s…complicated but all I can think to say is that one duke is enough and if I can convince the Duke of Stafford to never darken our door again, it will be a triumph.”
“Truly?” It was Starr who asked the startled question. “I thought he was…civilized and very smart looking.”
“Oh, was he?” Ivy pressed, her interest instantly ignited.
Starr nodded. “I am a wretched sister and abandoned her to face him alone but he was quite overwhelmingly handsome. Like something out of a novel!”
“He was no such thing!” Scarlett said quickly, coloring as her conscience pricked her at the outright lie but she didn’t want to admit that the dratted man was prettier than any other gentleman to her friends. “He was a bit puffed up and I’m sure that all dukes learn that trick like kittens that hiss and spit and give you the illusion that there is more to them than there really is.”
The Wild Duchess/The Willful Duchess (The Duchess Club Book 1) Page 5