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

by Renee Bernard

  Caroline smiled unaware of his dilemma. “Curiosity is a powerful force. It feels as if half of London has been similarly inspired to call. I wonder if we disappoint after closer inspection.”

  “No. I am sure that you could not. But it must seem intrusive, the parade of gawking well-wishers and the socially ambitious.”

  “Oh, I would not describe them so unkindly,” Caroline said. “I am sure they meant well.”

  Talon was not confident of the altruistic nature of the peerage but he did not correct her openly.

  “What brings you here, Your Grace?” Scarlett asked. “Surely not ambition.”

  Starr gasped, but Talon was grateful for the excuse to look at her directly and seized the opportunity. “No, not ambition.”

  “I reluctantly confess,” Mrs. Blackwell interjected. “I am exhausted but I don’t wish to seem rude. Why don’t you take the girls on a turn in the garden, Your Grace? Mrs. Hastings can keep an eye on you for decorum’s sake and accompany you all but I think a bit of fresh air wouldn’t hurt you girls after being confined for an afternoon.”

  It was a forward suggestion and would have seemed crude except that Mrs. Blackwell did look pale and vaguely pained as her color changed and Talon did not doubt her discomfort.

  Eleanor Hastings’ look of alarm was almost comical at the unexpected and unorthodox offer. “B-but…”

  Caroline stood forcing all of them to follow suit and Talon struggled not to smile at the dilemma on Mrs. Hastings’ face but also the look of shocked horror on the twins’ faces as well. Most women would claw over each other to spend time with a titled bachelor caller but Scarlett and Starr were not apparently like most women.

  Caroline gave her youngest an enigmatic look and suddenly all was motion.

  “Yes, would you care to see the garden?” Starr offered. “The…fountain was just installed.”

  “As my hostess is fatigued, it would be ungentlemanly to refuse and luckily I have always had a fascination with topiaries and outdoor water features.” He nodded to Mrs. Blackwell and stepped back to allow the women to lead the way.

  For the space of one breath, he wondered if Scarlett Blackwell would refuse but Starr touched her hand and instead, she smiled. “Right this way.”

  He was led from the house and out into the garden, doing his best not to look surprised at how lovely it was though moderate in size compared to his own estates. Talon began to compose a compliment to that effect when Starr abruptly halted her progress in front of him and nearly caused a collision.

  “Pardon me, I need to go back in and retrieve our parasols, Your Grace. Scarlett, I’ll return as quickly as I can.”

  “Wait—” Scarlett held up a hand in protest but her sister was far too quick in her retreat, ignoring even the helpless gasps of protest from their chaperone as she disappeared back into the house.

  It was all Talon could do not to grin as his luck simply continued to improve and Scarlett Blackwell landed squarely in his nearly solitary company for his undivided attention. A chaperone was an ordinary restriction and while the red-headed Mrs. Hastings was doing her best to look formidable, he was not intimidated. Especially since he had no personal designs on the lovely goddess nervously leading him along the gravel lined walk.

  Well, not the designs a chaperone would expect.

  “Shall we?” He held out his arm for her to take, formally forcing her to stop walking ahead of him and slow to a more courteous pace.

  Scarlett placed her hand as lightly as she could on his arm. Her goal was to touch him as little as possible. It was not that the man was repulsive but rather that he was so impossibly handsome he unsettled her. One dreamt of dashing men with titles but the Duke of Stafford was all too real and permeating her senses with potent force. He was tall enough to make her feel dainty but not so tall that she felt like cowering. Broad shouldered and lean, his hair was as dark as a raven’s wing, the duke’s sapphire blue eyes were more striking framed with coal black lashes any woman would envy. She wanted to maintain her equilibrium and not melt into a giggling mess, but the strange miracle of a second duke in her sphere was almost more than she could absorb.

  And this duke is much closer to my age and…oh, dear. It’s like the most romantic dream I could ever have—and I feel giddy touching the man’s coat…

  “As you wish.”

  “Did I frighten your sister away?”

  “No.” Scarlett didn’t wish to explain that Starr’s temperament was not inclined to social calls or walks in gardens with dukes nor that she’d probably rushed to their mother to ensure that all was well. “I feel I should apologize, Your Grace. We’ve never had earnest callers before and today was…overwhelming. Now, here you are and I cannot think of why I was ever intimidated by dowagers and matrons for you far outpace them for—I cannot think how one braces for such a surprise. You are an unexpected sight, Your Grace. I begin to think if I had a dozen sisters I would still have the sensation of needing reinforcements.”

  “It is a social call, Miss Blackwell, not an invasion.”

  “So you say but after all surely there is an element of the battlefield in ballrooms and sitting rooms.” Scarlett bit her lower lip. “We play for our lives, do we not?”

  “I suppose we do.”

  Eleanor Hastings followed behind them at a discreet distance to give the pair enough privacy to converse but stayed close enough so that she could see them both or come quickly if summoned.

  In vain, Scarlett waited for him to say something else. It was generally more polite to allow a man to take the lead in things but Scarlett knew that in the Blackwell family such rules were largely ignored. Father loved to hear his girls’ opinions and had encouraged them in all things, often smiling to compare them with their mother. But silence was not a happy or familiar state for her and at last, she gave in to the compulsive need for conversation. “May I ask a forward question?”

  “Of course,” he said.

  “It seems unusual that you would make such a call to introduce yourself to a relatively unknown debutante, Your Grace. I know that there was a bit of…commotion over the events at Aldridge’s but I never thought that so many people would respond as they have.”

  “Didn’t you? Is it really so shocking?” He looked directly into her eyes, a solemn inquisitor. “What did you expect to happen, Miss Blackwell?”

  “Pardon me?” It was hard to concentrate when she was looking up at him, his gaze locked onto hers, a distracting heat garbling her thoughts.

  His pace slowed but he continued to walk with her. “The friend I spoke of was the Duke of Chesterton. My duty compelled me to come here and so I ask without apology, what are your hopes, Miss Blackwell, in regards to Chesterton? What are your aims?”

  There was something in the direct nature of the question that immediately awoke a chilling alarm inside of her.

  He isn’t here for a social call.

  This is something else entirely and I was a fool to think otherwise.

  Scarlett blinked, striving to compose her thoughts and regain perspective. “What an odd question. Are you asking me if my intentions are honorable? Are you worried about the Duke of Chesterton’s virtue?”

  He didn’t smile or wave off the jest. Instead, he continued to look at her as soberly as a judge awaiting a proper answer—as if he had every right to an answer.

  “I see,” she said softly.

  “Do you?” he asked. “Chesterton has long been my friend and mentor. It is only natural that I seek reassurances.”

  She could feel the heat in her cheeks but prayed that he mistook the change in her color for weakness and not recognize that its true cause was rage. “Well, that’s jolly then. You’ve come here and can count yourself reassured.”

  He continued to walk and Scarlett felt trapped in the ritual by his side. His expression was raw with skepticism. “Tell me, if you would, Miss Blackwell, how did you first meet Chesterton? Who introduced you to him?”

  “Why? Are you
going to punish them for it?”

  He said nothing, instead finally stopping to allow them to stand in front of the fountain at the garden’s center. The sound of water falling and flowing was meant to calm and soothe but today, the magic couldn’t overcome the odd tension in the air.

  Scarlett chafed again at the silence. “It is new.”

  “Yes. New.”

  She pulled her hand away and shifted from his reach. The Duke of Stafford didn’t look impressed and he’d said the word ‘new’ as if it implied a lack of quality or taste. She’d had enough. He was like the rest of them, insinuating scorn, encased in a superiority that wasn’t earned but inherited. Handsome beyond reckoning he may be, but the luster was lost.

  “Father designed it and took great care. It was a gift to Mother to lure her out into the gardens and away from the library.” She stopped, a hammer of frustration pounding in her temples. Why am I telling him anything of our lives? He has no right to know anything of us and certainly less of me.

  She stomped her foot and earned an arch look of surprise from her caller. Scarlett immediately released his arm and moved from his reach but she didn’t wish to involve Mrs. Hastings so she deliberately kept her expression sweet. A row with a duke in her family’s garden would only hurt her mother and father but there were other ways to send a man packing.

  “I’m sorry, Your Grace. I am suddenly cross with myself for chattering away about such a thing when you must have gardens and fountains to rival Versailles. How silly I must seem!”

  “Not at all but—”

  “Imagine it! The Duke of Stafford calling on me! Who would have guessed at it?” She sighed. “I owe you so many thanks for making the day a triumph, Your Grace. And for showing your support.”

  “My support,” he echoed in surprise.

  “And your support of your friend!” Scarlett smiled, a bright and relentless force. “Such a gentlemanly courtesy and as the Duke of Chesterton is your dear friend, I know he’ll be so touched to hear of your presence here.”

  He blinked in shock and Scarlett savored her victory…even if it was all too brief.

  The Duke of Stafford cleared his throat. “Yes. Well, it is the first triumphant day of many in your presence. Let us pray you don’t tire of me, Miss Blackwell.”

  “What? Why—would I tire of you? I doubt I would have the chance.”

  “Oh, you’ll have too many chances to count, Miss Blackwell. As you’ve noted, since I’m such a dear friend of Chesterton, I consider it my duty to be on hand to escort you when he cannot and to do what I can to offer assistance to you both.”

  “Oh.”

  “What friend would do less?”

  She shook her head, a woman at a loss for words.

  He went on with a smile, his charm only making the turn of events harder for her to navigate. He looked like a pirate who had hoisted his colors. “And what woman would refuse an offer of honorable and illustrious company?”

  He had her. One didn’t usually pout that one duke was plenty, thank you very much.

  And more importantly, I gave Elgin my word, we shook hands and I swore to stick to the scheme. Blackwells keep their word. Even when it means not kicking the shins of the world’s most arrogant man when you wanted to.

  Her voice finally returned. “I’m so lucky and the Duke of Chesterton is so fortunate in his friends.” Scarlett brushed off her skirts and then touched her forehead as if to shade her eyes. “Alas, my sister seems to have forgotten the parasol and I fear I’ll turn brown as mud if I’m not careful of the sun. It was a pleasure to meet you, Your Grace.”

  She curtsied and then called out to Eleanor. “Mrs. Hastings! Would you walk His Grace out? I must see after Starr and ensure that all is well. It’s been such a lovely afternoon and I do look forward to meeting you again. If you’ll excuse me.”

  She turned and without looking back, walked as quickly as she could out of the garden and into the sanctuary of the house.

  Talon watched her retreat. Speed did not diminish the effect of her graceful strides and he was forced to admire how the fall of her bustled skirt only added to the impression of a mermaid’s tale and an otherworldly beauty.

  It was several awkward seconds before Eleanor Hastings gathered her wits enough to speak. “Your Grace, I must apologize. The girls are impulsive but never out of malice. I hope you aren’t insulted by the odd turns of the day.”

  “Not in the slightest but I can show myself out, Mrs. Hastings. Do not trouble yourself.” He nodded, a rushed courtesy, then left the garden with confident steady strides. His steps were jaunty and Talon had to struggle not to smile.

  He had never before had a young woman speak to him as she had or been so self-possessed in his presence. There’d been no fluttering of fans or any betrayal that she was aware of the chasm of social class between them. Both of the twins defied convention but it was Scarlett who concerned him. Miss Scarlett Blackwell was so much more than he’d expected but one thing was clear. She was no meek thing to have innocently ensnared Chesterton. Her intelligence betrayed her, in his opinion. She was clever enough to manipulate an older man and achieve a rich prize. She’d obviously sensed his objection to her and craftily changed tactics by trying to drive him off. When she’d pointed out that he had only strengthened her cause, he’d nearly retreated.

  Nearly.

  But Talon Rush was not a man to shrug off a good battle and the delightful look on her face when he turned the tables was something he might appreciate even to his dying day.

  God, that woman gets prettier when she’s vexed. I should be careful or I’ll forget my goals and fall under her spell myself.

  Never fear.

  Robbing that lovely fortune hunter of her prize is going to be one of the greatest pleasures of my life.

  Chapter 12

  It was a lovely party at Sussex House and while not officially a ball, musicians were on hand and a large room had been cleared for the guests’ entertainments. Of course, there were also card games and a banquet, but Chesterton knew that for Scarlett it was the dancing that appealed most.

  Or usually appealed. Tonight, she was quieter than he could ever recall. A quick study of her sister added to the puzzle as both the Blackwell Beauties seemed distracted and distant in the midst of all the finery and chaotic fuss of a grand social gathering. Their shy chaperone, Mrs. Martin, was less a shepherd and more a shadow as the evening evolved.

  “Miss Blackwell, are you not dancing tonight?” Elgin finally said as he approached the trio. “Is there something wrong? Sussex has a very fine conservatory if you were looking and didn’t find it. I believe his collection of jungle palms is unmatched for providing cover.”

  Scarlett smiled. “I refuse to hide ever again.”

  “Mrs. Martin, do you mind if I take a turn about the house with Miss Blackwell? We will naturally stay to the party and not stray out of sight, I swear it on my honor.”

  Sabrina pressed her hand against her heart, her eyes wide. “I…suppose that would be fine…if….Scarlett wishes to.”

  Starr smiled. “I’m sure it is proper, Mrs. Martin, or the duke would not have suggested it. Yes?”

  “You are correct, Miss Starr.” He held out his elbow for Scarlett to take, bowed to the ladies and led Scarlett away through the crowd.

  “Did you just kidnap me?”

  He nodded. “Very effectively.”

  “Is walking about a party with a duke as scandalous as dancing with one?” she asked.

  “Probably but it is too late now. If you run screaming, we are both sunk.”

  “God, I wish I was as fearless as you are.”

  “Miss Blackwell, what are you thinking over there? I’ve seen monks look more cheerful.”

  “I’m thinking that I have adversaries at every turn. The world is not so keen to see someone rise higher than they feel she should.”

  “They do lash out. But you have just as many supporters and friends.”

  “I am very lu
cky.”

  “Is Talon counted amidst your detractors or your friends?”

  She blushed unable to answer him.

  Elgin went on. “He likes you. Don’t tell him I said so but I am secretly hoping for great happiness for you, dearest. Stafford is a good man.”

  “He made it clear he thought I was a fortune hunter when we first met. But lately…he is…he has become very attentive, Your Grace, and…he can be very charming.”

  “First impressions always give way. You like him despite them, don’t you?”

  Instead of a shy confession or the smiles he expected to come with declarations of her affection for Stafford, her composure crumbled as her lips trembled and her eyes filled with tears. “I…”

  “Oh, dear. This will not do. Everyone will accuse me of making you cry and it’s a scandal in the making if they think I’ve broken your heart.” Elgin smiled but began to look about the rooms to think of the best way to manage things. “There! Cards!”

  “C-cards?”

  He guided her as quickly as he could to a very small table tucked into the corner of a room where the musicians were tuning up. He sat her down in a chair that he positioned to put her back to most of the room and then ostensibly took the opposing chair, pulled out a deck of wrapped cards from his coat’s inner pocket and began to shuffle the cards for a game they would never actually play. “If anyone asks, I am teaching you how to play a wicked version of whist.”

  “I don’t know how to play whist.”

  “Perfect!” Elgin smiled and began to reshuffle the deck and give her time to compose herself. “We are hiding in plain sight. So now you can tell me what has hurt you so. Or rather should I ask who?”

  “Don’t tease. I can’t—I want to be witty and sweet whenever we’re together, my friend. But I…don’t think I can muster it tonight, Your Grace.”