“But not my education? It would be better if I were clever but ignorant?”
Talon let out a slow breath to regain his equilibrium. “When you phrase it like that, I suppose not.”
“Good. Progress at last!”
Talon held up his hands, palms out in surrender. “Truce. Please.”
She became still, some of the tension between them dissolving in a slow, sweet fade. “You said that before. You said we were friends.”
“And then I spoiled it. I’m sorry.” He didn’t drop his hands, waiting instead for her command. “I apologize, Miss Blackwell.”
“You are nearly forgiven,” she said softly, then managed a smile. “Do drop your arms. You look as if I’m robbing you at gun point.”
* * *
“You are entertaining and exhausting, Miss Blackwell.”
“I am. I am a ruthless adversary in battle; I am never content to do only what is expected of me and I am worthy of a duke’s efforts. But don’t worry, I am of no consequence to you.”
“Yet you are priceless to Chesterton,” he countered.
“I’m sure he said that only to safeguard my toes.”
“How gallant of him!” Talon bit the words off, irritated that Chesterton could speak so freely and yet he could say nothing right in her presence.
“Are you still irritated with me, Your Grace?”
“I am…not…” His patience ran out but instead of icing up, he felt completely at odds with the world around him and spoke without any of his usual reserve. “My God, how do you do that?”
“Do what?”
“I am irritated with myself, Miss Blackwell.”
“Are you? Why?”
“Because I should not be so… You speak like a man and instead of being repulsed, I am captivated. It’s very irritating to discover that I do not know myself in your company. If I took pride in anything, it was in being very self-possessed and always in control.”
“Always? Pardon me, Your Grace, but do you mean to say that at all times, at all moments, and in all places, you deem yourself in control?”
“You find that hard to believe?”
“No one is in control or has that level of command of themselves or anything really. I might strive to steer my course but I have no illusions of being a cartographer or a wizard to control the weather or the tides.”
“Am I to think of you as a rainstorm?”
“I’m not sure.” Scarlett opened her fan to cool her face. “I have already damaged your peace of mind and enchanted you into being quite cross. Should I count that as a triumph? Or should I lament that you’d prefer to think of yourself as made of stone?”
“I am not made of stone.”
She pivoted to face him directly, her expression soulful and sad. “It isn’t a triumph to have a man complain that he likes you in spite of his better nature. I have no wish to be Elizabeth Bennett to your version of Darcy and if I remember that novel rightly, he crushed her heart before he finally came around. I will politely pass on that role.”
“You do not recall the plot correctly. She crushed him before he finally came around.”
Scarlett blinked in surprise. “You’ve read ‘Pride and Prejudice’?”
He took a small step toward her closing the distance between them just enough to bring a blush to her cheeks and prove that he was not alone in the dilemma between passion and restraint. “I might have. That is as much as I am willing to say since my peers would crucify me if they knew I had been within twenty feet of such trifles.”
“I love trifles. Despite my education, I cannot seem to get enough trifles if Austen qualifies.”
“You are deliberately trying to shift the fight to Austen, Miss Blackwell.”
“It seemed a good strategy. Brontë then? Would you care to discuss ‘Jane Eyre’ instead now that I find you are a follower of trifles?”
“Stop this.”
“Why? Because like Jane Eyre I insist on being a free human being with an independent will?”
“You are not an orphan and the proclamation that anyone is a human being is as revelatory as announcing that they need air to survive. I’d have thought it was understood and didn’t need anyone to insist upon it.”
“You read trifles,” she said in a firm but not unfriendly accusation.
“I never admitted it. But if I did, would it elevate your esteem for me?”
Scarlett looked at him as if it were the first time. “God, I hope not! You are already too appealing and may I add, also too irritating so I shouldn’t like to coach you into some strange advantage in a game I don’t wish to play.”
“I can’t believe I’m saying this but I don’t think it’s a game, Miss Blackwell. I find myself more and more sure of it. I am not your enemy.”
“You are not an ally, either.”
“You are too young to be so clever.”
“And you’re too young to be so cruel.” Scarlett closed her fan with a snap. “We are at an impasse, Your Grace.”
He nodded, unable to think of a thing to say.
“Good evening, Your Grace. I do hope you enjoy the ball.”
She turned on her heel and was gone before he could move.
God help me. She nearly skinned me alive and all I can think…all I can recall is that for one moment—she said she found me appealing.
Damn.
I’m going to have reread Austin.
He sighed and turned to go and then realized that there was a man leaning against the balustrade twenty paces away watching him. His arms were crossed and his posture would have been cavalier but his gaze destroyed the impression of a casual observer. He had a lion’s coloring and looked just as intimidating as any mature beast. The man’s look was a ruthless study and Talon wondered what he had heard and how it had been interpreted.
Still, he was not used to explaining himself to any man—and was not about to begin the practice. Talon held his ground and waited for the interloper to either declare himself or retreat. The man did neither. Instead, he straightened to stand, unfolding his arms and made a leisurely and derisive study of Talon from head to toe that found nothing of note, all the while keeping his silence.
“May I help you there?” Talon asked.
The man shook his head slowly and then approached as proudly as a king sweeping by a page with one soft dismissive word. “No.”
He brushed past Talon and followed the same path that Scarlett had taken.
Talon shifted back to watch him go, suddenly unsure of himself. All he knew was that he had the strange feeling that he had failed some great test.
* * *
“Ah, there are my Beauties!” Ashe announced as he found the group again. “Did I miss anything?”
Scarlett shook her head firmly. “Nothing of note, Father.”
Galen Hawke smiled as he and Ashe exchanged looks. Better that daughters thought they had secrets from their always attentive fathers than to improve their tricks. There was no possibility of Ashe Blackwell not noticing Scarlett’s departure from the dance floor but it was a conversation better left to another time. In truth in Ashe’s youth, he had perfected whisking beautiful women away from the crowds for private interludes so there was some comfort in how little things changed. The odds of him being blind to the trick now were insane.
Some love is never blind.
“Heads up, Blackwell.” Galen shifted his stance as the Duke of Chesterton approached them.
Elgin made a courteous nod to the company.
“Blackwell, may I introduce Elgin York, His Grace, the Duke of Chesterton? I believe he is already acquainted with your daughters from Aldridge’s ball earlier in the Season.”
“Thank you, Lord Winters. It is naturally a pleasure to meet you, Your Grace.”
Chesterton’s smiles were genuine as he held out his hand. “I had the honor of meeting your grandfather once, Mr. Blackwell. Would that I had taken his advice and bought into those American investments he was so fond of…”
/>
“A regret many of our countrymen probably share,” Ashe conceded. “He was a genius at finance if a bit difficult to take at the dinner table.”
“I understand that you have kept up the tradition of the Blackwell touch.”
Ashe shook his head. “Perhaps but I have come to measure my success by other means.” He looked at his twin daughters, the pride in his eyes shining for all to see. “I am a very fortunate man.”
“That you are. I envy you, sir.” Chesterton’s jolly demeanor sobered a bit. “Some men are more fortunate than others when it comes to love. Perhaps it is what balances the world out a bit.”
“Yes, well,” Galen tried to step in but couldn’t think of what to say. Like Ashe, he too had been overtly fortunate to marry for love and discover that wealth and titles made little difference in his happiness. Apparently the duke was late to the chase and Galen couldn’t do much to encourage him. It was for Ashe to decide.
Scarlett blushed but did her best to seem unaffected by the exchange. It was not every day that one’s father was envied by a duke but there was an awkward edge to the moment. As handsome as Chesterton was, next to her father there was no mistaking the gap in their ages and how odd a couple she and the duke might make.
“If you’ll excuse me, I don’t wish to hold you up and I spot several young men circling to ask your daughters to dance. As I said, a pleasure to meet you, Mr. Blackwell, and I hope to have the chance of seeing your daughters out and about in the weeks to come.” Elgin bowed and elegantly withdrew.
“Yes, thank you and the pleasure was ours.” Ashe said before he was gone into the crowd. “Damn,” he said under his breath. “I like the man but…”
“Not what you had in mind for your little girl?” Galen asked softly.
“He is a gentleman through and through,” Ashe whispered. “Let us hope that Scarlett knows what she’s doing.”
Chapter 7
The rest of the evening had passed in a fairly uneventful haze for the twins but the following days proved that Scarlett had more than a small inkling of the ways of London society. Her predictions came true as more calls were paid and received than the Blackwells had ever thought possible. Luckily, Lady Winters had been the first to stop in and when Caroline admitted that she was not feeling well enough for her duties, her dear friend had immediately stepped in to play hostess in her stead and provide a buffer to allow Caroline to hopefully recover.
Ashe’s involvement since the marchioness’s ball had increased though he still was at his wife’s side as often as possible. But he had announced at the breakfast table before that his Buttons needed a father’s attentions. “Not a better chaperone in the whole wide world, would you not agree?”
Starr had merrily accepted his new role though Scarlett was less pleased. Not that she had mischief in mind but no one could match their father’s talents for hovering, frightening off would-be suitors and keeping them in line. She adored her father but was already missing the softer hands of Mrs. Martin at the helm.
Invitations abounded after a small vague mention in the social columns of the Times about the Blackwell Beauties and Ashe had tried not to look too proud as he had read it out. “The triumph of the more vivacious Scarlett amidst the loftiest of social circles as she makes herself known is practically assured and there are great hopes that her quiet and demure sister, Starr, will emerge to shine as well!”
“Gracious! I know it’s customary to avoid the papers, but it is hard not to find it thrilling for the girls.” Haley took the paper from his hands to see the text. “Caroline, what do you think of it all?”
“I don’t know what to think. I worry that I’m missing it. But then…” Caroline pushed back a stray curl. “How can I complain? They are having a lovely first Season and perhaps it is better not to have their mother hovering and smothering them at every turn. I am not as brave as Ashe in company.”
“Nonsense! My Quaker is undaunted by all the fuss and frippery of English society!” Ashe protested and moved to sit next to her on the settee. “I think it’s a brilliant strategy, dearest. You have the mystique of an eastern empress and you are giving your husband wonderful excuses to skip any and all invitations he is not in the mood to accept. It’s genius really, if you consider it.”
Haley smiled. “Please do not share your tactics with Galen. He would never leave Stamford Crossing if he could get away with it.”
“I’ll leave you ladies to enjoy your conversation. I promised Michael I would meet him at the sports club this afternoon. It destroys me the way he refuses to age like the rest of us. Has anyone else noticed that Rutherford appears to be immortal?”
“Oh, yes,” Caroline said with a teasing lilt in her voice. “Grace told me that she discovered a potion for the formula to eternal youth when she was researching that delicious book on those shape-shifting Aztec warriors.”
“Unkind of him not to share,” Ashe grumbled as he leaned over to kiss her on the cheek.
“You are unchanged to me,” she whispered in his ear.
“As are you, my darling,” he whispered back then straightened to leave. “Enjoy the day, ladies.”
Haley sighed as he left them alone. “They are remarkable, aren’t they?”
“They?”
“Our men,” Haley answered as she began to set out the tea that awaited them on a tray on the table. “I see other married friends outside our inner circle and they have not been as lucky…”
“The Jaded was never comprised of ordinary men. You’re right. They are a marvel, each and every one of them.”
“And their offspring,” Haley added then filled their cups. “It is silly but there are still moments when I catch myself staring at Garrett, so much the spitting image of his father that it takes my breath away. These children, nearly grown, are mine. Alicia will be out next year and I can’t help but wonder where the time went.”
Caroline nodded, her expression full of nostalgia. “I have to catch myself from expecting two small little girls to bound into the room. One moment they were giggling on the stairs with Paul and now…” She let out a quick breath, shaking off the melancholy of it. “They are taking London by storm, Haley, and will be off and away.”
“They are, and much to your credit. But I want most to know how you are doing, dear friend.” Haley set her teacup aside and reached over to touch Caroline’s hand. “You’ve said nothing. Ashe says nothing. Excuses are made and I’ve heard no rumors.”
“It is a miracle then.”
“An unprecedented one,” Haley said. “Caroline, please. Can you not tell me?”
The quiet of the room amplified but at last, Caroline spoke. “Gayle checks in with me often. There is no diagnosis yet but…I have no appetite. I am often sick to my stomach and…it is most undignified. It is all restless aches and gnawing pain that make me feel so embarrassed to make everyone worry. I swore all those years ago after—well, it has long been my personal goal not to cause a similar fuss ever again. Yet here I am.”
“Caroline, there is nothing to be embarrassed about. We care for you and love you. If you are ill, then we only wish to offer you what support and—”
“Please. Haley, what I wish most is for life to go on as it must. I will catch up when I can but I don’t want to hold anyone back, to slow anyone’s joy or distract them from all that is happening around them. Ashe hovers and I have more attention than I can manage, I promise.”
“As you wish,” Haley sighed. “I won’t make a fuss. But you will send for me if there is anything I can do and I will continue to chaperone the girls when I can and offer assistance to Ashe. How does that sound?”
“Like a miracle.”
Caroline began to laugh and Haley joined in, the love between them brushing away the fear of whatever was to come.
While their mother enjoyed a quiet afternoon upstairs with Lady Winters, the twins arranged for an escape with their brother, Paul, for a stroll in Regents Park. The weather was exceptionally fine for i
t and the girls loved the chance to stretch their legs and make the most of the day.
Paul wore his new afternoon coat and walked between them, extremely aware that the identical beauties on his arms made them quite the show. His sisters were the lights of his life, always entertaining and lively. It was hard to imagine what his life would have been without them, without the Blackwells. His mother was still haunted by the harshness of fate and the poverty of her own childhood. Sabrina Martin had never wanted Paul to forget how lucky they had been to land on the Blackwell’s doorstep the night of the girls’ birth. Mrs. Martin had even kept the tattered note she’d written out to apply as a wet nurse, to find the house. It was all a tale straight out of a Dickens novel; young starving widowed woman with an infant in her arms desperately applies for a position as a wet nurse and ends up being completely adopted and absorbed into the rich household, her son treasured as one of their own.
Except life in the Blackwell home was so bright and buoyant it was impossible not to simply be happy and often forget any gothic undertones of the turns of “a dark and stormy night”. Looking over one’s shoulder at the past was an activity that seemed to waste time and as far as Paul knew, being content and part of large and unusual family was a much merrier use of the hours in a day.
“Parson,” Starr said. “Thank you for coming out with us. I know you had a lot of work to do but even I agreed that weather as fine as this must be enjoyed.”
“You were right to drag me away from my desk,” he conceded. “I’m current with all the ledgers and was going to see about an outline for the new venture Mr. Blackwell is keen to try. It may be the answer to Hastings Holdings limitations with their cottage industries. Not that I am not a great supporter of quality craftsman work and artistic pieces but it is a modern age with a faster pace now. The new incandescent light bulbs will need—”
Scarlett cleared her throat. “Parson. I adore you. But if you mean to bring your desk along with you, it is going to slow our walk and make it much harder for you to notice how lovely the trees look and how green the grass has become.”
The Wild Duchess/The Willful Duchess (The Duchess Club Book 1) Page 8