As Louisa blinked, Mrs. Harris fished a coin from her beaded reticule. “In Louisa’s defense, we are all very tired. It’s been a long day.”
“True.” Regina took the shilling. “But neither of us is grousing about the ‘infernal racket’ of three harpists practicing quietly.”
Louisa drew herself up. “I was merely saying—”
“It’s all right, dear.” Mrs. Harris stood. “They’ve played long enough. I’m sure they’ve quite worn out Venetia’s tolerance, too.” She called over to the girls, “Practice time is over, everyone. You may put your harps away.”
When the noise stopped abruptly and Mrs. Harris sat back down, Louisa did the same. “Thank you, that’s much better.”
Regina rolled her eyes. “Pay Louisa no mind, Charlotte. She has been a regular grumpy goose ever since the fete.”
“Oh?” Mrs. Harris said. “And what has provoked this unusual behavior?”
“Judging from her extreme reaction to the elaborate bouquets my brother daily leaves for her at my house,” Regina said, smirking, “she seems to have developed an aversion to lilies. Which is odd, since they’re her favorite flower.”
“Is it a severe aversion?” Mrs. Harris’s blue eyes twinkled. “Is she sleeping badly? Sighing into her pillow? Croaking out romantic ballads?”
“Very amusing,” Louisa grumbled. “I’m tossing the lilies out as fast as they come in, which is what anyone with an aversion to them does.”
Mrs. Harris laughed. “And Foxmoor? Has she tossed him out yet?”
“No,” Regina said, “but she might as well. She avoids him entirely.”
“That is absurd.” Louisa scanned the list of names on the table before her. “I’m merely too busy with the London Ladies Society to stay home for callers.”
“Busy hiding in your room or sneaking out when he comes by, you mean.”
“Who is Miss North hiding from?” asked Miss Eliza Crenshawe, one of the offending harpists who strolled with Venetia toward the table.
“I am not hiding. I simply don’t have time to entertain Regina’s brother.”
“You’re hiding from the Duke of Foxmoor?” Eliza exclaimed. “Are you mad? I would tremble with excitement if that man came to call on me!”
When all eyes turned to Louisa, most of them reflecting Eliza’s sentiments, she stiffened. “I’m not hiding from anyone.” With a stern glance, she tapped her finger on her list. “I’ve been utterly consumed with figuring out who to choose as our candidate. Which is why we’re here, if you’ll recall.”
That sobered them. “You’re right, of course,” Regina said. “We had to table our other items of business until we’d investigated further; we shouldn’t end the meeting without resolving this one.”
Eliza and Venetia wandered over to stand by the window overlooking the school’s front drive while the other girls took their seats in a flurry of white muslin.
Louisa closely surveyed the younger women. “You girls do know that this matter shouldn’t be discussed outside this room.”
They bobbed their heads in unison, wide-eyed but eager to hear more.
“If you don’t think you can curb your tongues, even with your family, leave now,” Mrs. Harris warned them. “Is that understood, Miss Crenshawe?”
Color stained Eliza’s plump cheeks. “Yes, ma’am.”
“Let’s go on, then.” Louisa stared down at the list. “Of the three men we’ve narrowed this to, I still think Charles Godwin is our best choice.”
Regina frowned. “And I still think he’s too dangerous. It’s one thing to put Mrs. Fry’s brother-in-law into office, but if we start supporting radicals, the MPs will accuse us of fomenting revolution. Especially if Mr. Godwin’s speeches are as fiery as his editorials.”
“I hope they are. Try as he might, Mrs. Fry’s brother-in-law hasn’t gained us a thing. It’s time to shake up those fussy old MPs.”
“But a more moderate candidate—”
“Will just be ignored. As Mrs. Fry’s brother-in-law has been. Radicals at least know how to get things done.” Louisa turned to Mrs. Harris. “Have you mentioned this to Mr. Godwin yet?”
Mrs. Harris had known the man for years, ever since he’d served in the same regiment with her late bounder of a husband.
“No, I didn’t want to speak until we made a decision. But I think he’ll be amenable. He’s already shown himself to be passionate about other reforms.”
“Too passionate, if you ask me,” Regina said. When the other two raised their eyebrows, she sighed. “But I suppose if you trust him, Mrs. Harris—”
“I do. He’s been a good friend to me since my husband’s death.”
“As good a friend as Cousin Michael?” Regina teased.
Mrs. Harris snorted. “I can hardly call Cousin Michael a friend when he insists upon keeping his identity secret. Stubborn fool. I’m not entirely sure he’s really my late husband’s cousin, as he claims to be.”
“Blast it all—look at that equipage!” interrupted Eliza from the window.
“Come away from there, Eliza,” Mrs. Harris chided. “And a lady does not use words like ‘blast.’”
“Hard to resist when a phaeton bearing a nobleman’s crest is tearing up the school’s drive.” Venetia peered through the window. “Is that a ducal crest?”
As every eye turned to Louisa, her heart stumbled into an erratic rhythm.
“It must be Foxmoor himself!” Eliza exclaimed. “How romantic for you, Miss North! He’s so smitten he rode all this way from town to find you!”
The younger ladies clapped their hands to their breasts and sighed in a perfect paroxysm of maidenly delight.
“Don’t be silly.” Louisa’s own hands fell into a maddening shake, so she buried them in her skirts of spotted pink muslin. “It’s probably one of the parents.”
Mrs. Harris lifted one eyebrow. “Aside from the fact that no duke would ever deign to enroll his daughter in a school, I doubt any of our parents would drive a phaeton. Those are for bachelors.”
“The duke would never ride anywhere after me.” When the others began to grin, Louisa bristled. “It’s someone’s cousin or suitor.” It couldn’t be Simon—she’d made it quite clear that she had no interest in him, not now, not ever.
Yet he kept leaving those gorgeous lilies, and with every bouquet the same line: “Surely we can at least be friends,” followed by the words, “Yours, Simon.” Not “the duke” or “Foxmoor.” Simon. As if he’d never wronged her. As if she’d never had him banished.
As if he weren’t probably consorting with her enemies even now.
Was that why he’d started this? Had the MPs asked him to distract her from her activities? She wouldn’t put it past them—or him, either. Not for one minute did she think he really wanted to be her “friend.”
“The phaeton is stopping!” Eliza leaned forward to see better. “A gentleman is getting out. He’s wearing a cobalt blue frock coat, light blue pantaloon trousers, and Hessians. I do so love a man in Hessians.” She turned back to smile at them, her hazel eyes sparkling. “Especially a handsome one.”
“Young, too,” Venetia added. “He couldn’t be more than thirty.”
“Thirty-three,” Louisa breathed. When they laughed, she thrust out her lower lip. “If it’s Regina’s brother. Which it probably isn’t.”
“Look, he has a monkey!” Eliza exclaimed.
Louisa groaned. Wonderful. The dratted man had run her to ground. Perhaps she could sneak down the back stairs to the stables…but no, she couldn’t leave without Regina.
She turned to Mrs. Harris. “Where are your copies of the London Monitor?” When the schoolmistress blinked, she added, “The ones with Mr. Godwin’s articles. Are they in your office? I shall go see—”
“Hiding in there will do you no good,” Regina put in. “I know my brother—he will find you.”
“Then it’s a good thing this has nothing to do with him.” Louisa headed for the door. “I told you,
I can’t be bothered with his visits when we have work to do.”
“Regina is right, dear,” Mrs. Harris said. “You can’t avoid him forever. Just tell him you’re not interested, and put an end to it.”
“I already tried that at the fete. I made it quite clear how I felt.”
“Yet he keeps pursuing you.” Regina arched one blonde eyebrow. “You must have been very convincing.”
“I can’t believe she’s avoiding a duke,” exclaimed one of the girls.
“I can’t believe she’s avoiding the man who once governed India.” Eliza pursed her lips. “Who cares if he’s a duke? My father’s third cousin is a duke, and he’s an ass.”
“Miss Crenshawe!” Mrs. Harris chided. “We don’t use the word ‘ass,’ ever!”
“Sorry,” Eliza mumbled.
Louisa stifled a smile, remembering similar discussions with her governess. Eliza, with her reckless tongue and budding country beauty, reminded her of how she had been at seventeen: headstrong but naïve, easy pickings for the scheming Simon.
But she was older and wiser now. Surely she could handle one annoyingly attractive duke. And Mrs. Harris was right—she couldn’t avoid him forever, not when she lived with his sister. Better to settle her relationship with him for good. “I shall just have to be firmer in my refusal.”
“For some men it takes more than once,” Mrs. Harris said.
“Especially when the man knows you’re lying,” Regina said dryly.
Scowling, Louisa faced her sister-in-law. “I’m not lying.”
“No? Then why have you been hiding from him? Because you are afraid that you will succumb to his pursuit.” Regina’s eyes narrowed. “Or worse yet, that you will discover he has changed. You are afraid to see him for what he is.”
Louisa snorted. “His claim to have changed may fool you, but not me.”
“Did you know that he and His Majesty have been at odds since his return, reportedly over Simon’s renewed interest in you?”
The unbidden thrill searing Louisa’s veins vexed her, especially when she saw the young ladies regard her with envy and awe. “I hardly believe that His Majesty would disapprove of his old advisor.”
“Last night Simon pointedly left White’s as soon as the king arrived,” Regina persisted. “Marcus witnessed it himself. Doesn’t that prove Simon’s sincerity?”
It shook her, to be sure. She’d wondered if the king had coaxed Simon to distract her in exchange for some political advantage. But if they were on bad terms—
“Don’t you see?” Regina went on. “You have thought him the villain for so long that you would rather hide from your feelings than accept the changed man.”
“You’re wrong, I tell you,” Louisa said. “And I am not hiding!”
“From whom?” asked a deep male voice.
She jumped, then whirled to find Simon in the doorway, eyes gleaming. “From anyone,” she said, her heart in her throat. “I’m not hiding from…anyone.”
As Raji chattered and everyone behind her except Regina dropped into deep curtsies, Simon said, “Glad to hear it. Because only cowards hide. And I never took you for a coward.”
Heat filled her cheeks. She deserved that; she had been a coward. His bold, consuming kiss in the woods had unsettled her, but avoiding the truth never solved anything.
The butler appeared behind Simon, looking flustered. “Forgive me, ladies. I intended to announce His Grace, but he insisted upon surprising you.”
“Of course he did.” Louisa managed a remote smile. “The duke is nothing if not insistent.” Just like his sister, whom he resembled to an astonishing degree, both of them blond, blue-eyed, and bold. Except that Regina’s boldness was invigorating. Simon’s was just plain dangerous.
Like now, when he was scouring her with his impudent gaze. “You gave me little choice, Miss North. You seem to have forgotten our appointment.”
“What are you talking about?”
“You and I are supposed to pay a visit to Lady Trusbut, remember?” Idly, he scratched his monkey’s belly. “Raji was looking forward to it. But when I went to the town house to fetch you, they informed me that you were here.”
A hush fell across the room. Even the girls knew that gaining Lady Trusbut’s support had been a particular quest of Louisa’s.
“I didn’t think you meant it.” She lifted her chin in challenge. “After all, Your Grace, you have a bad habit of saying what you don’t mean.”
Ignoring the gasps from behind her, he shifted Raji to his shoulder. “Then give me a chance to prove I have overcome my bad habits.”
As if confirming his master’s words, Raji chattered madly, clutching a wooden carving of a bird to his furry chest. Painted bright yellow, the toy was clearly well-worn, well-loved. A canary. So Simon hadn’t been lying to Lady Trusbut about Raji’s preference for canaries.
It was a small thing, yet it gave her pause.
Simon held out his arm. “Shall we go? I have the phaeton waiting.”
Though the prospect of spending time alone with Simon in a phaeton unnerved her, she dared not lose the chance to snag Lady Trusbut’s support. Besides, he could hardly make advances in broad daylight with a monkey and groom as chaperones.
But first she and her ladies had to choose their candidate. “I tell you what, sir. Let me finish my meeting and then we’ll go. You can wait for me downstairs.”
He tensed, but before he could protest, Eliza burst out with, “Perhaps His Grace should participate, too. He probably knows all your prospective candi—”
“Hush, Eliza!” Louisa cast the loose-tongued girl a quelling glance. “I told you, that isn’t a matter for general discussion.”
Eliza’s face fell. “Oh, right.”
Louisa shifted her gaze to Simon. “Especially when we don’t know where the duke stands on our issue.”
“Nor can I tell you, when you are not forthright with me,” Simon countered.
“What do you mean?” she retorted.
He strode into the room. “You said you press your cause in Parliament, but you neglected to say how. I had to hear elsewhere about your unorthodox tactics.”
He’d heard about that?
They were still gaping at him when he added, “And you certainly never said you are putting up your own candidate for the Commons.”
Chapter Six
Dear Charlotte,
It would certainly help Miss North if she mended her fences with Foxmoor. Everyone is sure he will succeed Liverpool as prime minister. But I cannot see Miss North as his duchess. She would lead him a merry dance, and I hear Foxmoor isn’t particularly fond of dancing.
Your opinionated cousin,
Michael
Louisa’s heart dropped into her stomach. He wasn’t supposed to know about their political aspirations. No one in Parliament was supposed to know until the London Ladies marshaled their support. She could think of only one way he’d found out.
But when she glared at his sister, Regina drew herself up stiffly. “Don’t look at me—I didn’t tell him.”
“No, she didn’t.” Simon smiled. “Not for nothing was I once the king’s advisor. I know how to ferret out information, especially when it regards politics.”
As he handed his beaver top hat to the butler, Mrs. Harris said, “Then surely you realize how unhappy some of your friends in Parliament would be to hear that you’re helping us.”
“Helping you?”
“By taking Louisa to meet with Lord Trusbut.”
“Ah. I hardly call arranging an appointment with the Trusbuts ‘help.’ But if you’re looking for real help, I might offer it. After you convince me I should.”
Convince him? The audacity of the man! “We’re not interested in your help,” Louisa snapped.
“We’re interested in anyone’s help,” Mrs. Harris put in. “Especially coming from a man of such stature.” She cast Simon an assessing glance. “The question, Your Grace, isn’t whether we want your help, but why you�
��re offering it.”
“I’m not. Yet. First, I would have to know more about your cause—your aims, your methods—”
“You wish to spy on us,” Louisa said.
He cast her a cool smile. “I acquired my other information about your group with ease. So if I wanted to spy on you, Miss North, I would not waste time talking to you suspicious females. I’d be off befriending a less wary member.” He nodded at Regina. “Or bedeviling my sister with questions.”
“Which, to be fair,” Regina put in, “he has not done.”
“I came here to fulfill my promise to you,” Simon went on. “You were discussing politics, so I pointed out that I could help.” He smiled tightly. “But before I endorse any organization, I expect to know its aims and methods. Surely you understand that.” When they remained silently wary, he added with a shrug, “Of course, if you do not want my help—”
“What exactly would you wish to know?” Mrs. Harris asked.
“Now see here,” Louisa put in, “I’m not telling him anything until I know we can trust him.”
“Of course not,” Simon surprised her by saying. “But why not let me observe the workings of your group for a few days? How could that be a problem?” He arched one eyebrow. “Unless what I keep hearing is true, and the London Ladies Society really is planning some wild revolution.”
The others laughed a bit shakily, but Louisa’s stomach knotted up. He certainly knew a great deal after only a week. And if the other statesmen knew what he did, that wasn’t good. Refusing to let him observe might rouse further suspicion of her group’s political aspirations. That wouldn’t be good, either.
But if she did let him “observe,” she’d have to endure his presence.
Or would she? A sudden idea came to her. “What do you think, Mrs. Harris? Would you like the duke to observe your new committee?”
“I’d be honored.” Mrs. Harris smiled. “If he doesn’t mind riding out here twice a week for meetings.”
“Certainly not,” Simon said. “I could accompany my sister and Miss North.”
“Oh, but I’m not a member of her committee.” Louisa smirked.
Only a Duke Will Do Page 6