Daring to Love the Duke's Heir

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Daring to Love the Duke's Heir Page 11

by Janice Preston


  ‘N-no. I do not think so. I think it is Gideon’s place to do so, don’t you?’

  ‘You’re probably right. But if you wish me to intervene, just let me know.’

  ‘Thank you. I will.’ They watched the dancing in silence for a few minutes. ‘My lord...may I ask you something?’

  ‘If you must.’

  ‘Oh! You wound me. How grudging you sound.’

  ‘I sound that way because such a request from you usually means trouble.’

  She laughed. ‘You barely know me and you have deduced that already? You cut me to the quick, sir.’ Then she sobered. ‘I realise it may be an impertinent question, but what is Westfield?’

  ‘Westfield?’

  He was happy to be a patron of the school and to help the children with their lessons and find positions for the older children in households and as apprentices but he was uncomfortable talking about it—it smacked too much of puffing off his own good deeds. He did what he did for the children, not to bolster his reputation.

  ‘Yes. You spoke of it earlier, when we were with your sister.’

  ‘It is an orphan asylum supported by my second cousin, Lady Stanton. I merely help her out occasionally.’

  ‘I was intrigued by how knowledgeable you seemed about the children. And about twins.’

  He shrugged, keeping his attention away from her and on the dancers. ‘Much of what I said is common sense. The rest I have gleaned from Felicity...Lady Stanton, that is.’ The introduction of this subject gave him the impetus he needed to tear himself away from her. ‘Now, if you will excuse me, Miss Lovejoy, I ought to circulate.’ He bowed. ‘I expect I shall see you at supper.’

  He walked away without giving her a chance to respond. He knew, from when he had first started supporting Westfield, that it elicited more questions from others than he cared to answer. Questions as to why he, a wealthy and privileged aristocrat, should concern himself with orphans and other destitute children. But to answer those inevitably led to questions about his mother and her death...and he had no wish to resurrect those memories, or to share them. With anyone. He strolled on, stopping and chatting to acquaintances on occasion, but all the time he was conscious that none of these people were really his friends. The people he wanted to be with were his family. He was looking forward to his father’s arrival and that of his aunts and uncles.

  He paused and scanned the ballroom, his restless gaze settling as it found Liberty. She was talking, animatedly, with her brother, who was glowering at her. Why would she not take his advice? Could she not see that the more she badgered Wendover the more likely he was to rebel?

  ‘Keeping an eye on the luscious Liberty again?’

  He gritted his teeth as Alex joined him. ‘I don’t know what you are talking about.’

  ‘Come on, Dom...best to keep moving, or the wolves’ll be circling again.’ Alex linked his arm through Dominic’s and they strolled on. ‘And you know precisely what I’m talking about. I haven’t seen you pay this much attention to a woman for...well, for ever, actually. What I don’t understand is why you left her standing just now. I gave you privacy and you threw the opportunity away.’

  ‘It makes no difference—I might find her attractive and enjoy her company, but you know as well as I do that she is totally unsuitable to be a future duchess.’

  ‘Do I? How so? Her brother’s an earl; you give every impression of enjoying her company.’ He leaned in closer. ‘And you can’t tell me you don’t want to—’

  ‘Enough!’ Dominic snatched his arm from Alex’s. ‘How about you and I meet for a sparring session at Jackson’s tomorrow?’

  It would give him huge satisfaction to punch that knowing smirk off his brother’s face, but he could hardly plant him a facer at the Twyfords’ ball.

  Alex grinned. ‘Not on your life, Brother. I ain’t that stupid.’

  ‘Despite appearances to the contrary!’

  ‘Ouch! Take care! That wit of yours is sharp enough to cause real damage to a fellow.’

  ‘Good. You deserve it.’

  ‘Aw, come on, Dom. It’s just a bit of gentle ribbing...you know I don’t mean anything by it.’

  Dominic scanned Alex’s expression of innocence. He sighed. ‘I know it’s hard for you, but try to respect the fact that I am simply not in the mood for your peculiar sense of humour. Not today.’

  Alex nudged him. ‘We’ll talk again tomorrow, then.’

  He winked and strolled away, leaving Dominic to inwardly seethe. The music was drawing to a close, which meant the supper dance would be next. Battening down his exasperation, he set off to find a drink before it was time to seek out Lady Caroline Warnock—his next partner and, very possibly, his future wife.

  Chapter Ten

  Dominic’s warning about Lord Bridlington had brought Liberty’s protective instincts rushing to the surface. She watched His Lordship as he sniffed around Verity—really, there was no other way to describe it—and her disquiet grew. He reminded her of nothing more than a street dog on the hunt for a casual coupling. Liberty crossed the ballroom to her sister and drew her aside.

  ‘Lord Bridlington is very attentive, Verity. Has he put his name down for a second dance?’

  Verity flushed. ‘Yes. The supper dance.’

  Liberty frowned at her sister’s subdued tone. ‘Do you like him?’

  ‘Not...not really. But Mrs Mount told us we must never refuse a gentleman if he asks us to dance. And, if we do, we cannot then dance with any gentleman. And she told me I should be flattered by his attention because he is an earl and...and he would be a suitable match.’

  ‘Well, I think it would be an appalling match—if his intentions are honourable, which I beg to doubt. I’ll ask Gideon to warn him off, shall I?’

  ‘You mean you won’t go storming up to him yourself and harangue him?’ There was a teasing note in Verity’s tone, but Liberty recognised the kernel of truth in her question and felt her skin heat.

  ‘No, I shall not. That,’ she added, with a wink, ‘is not how a lady should behave. You see... I am learning.’

  But Gideon, when she caught up with him, was less than amenable to her suggestion that he pull rank as Verity’s brother and partner her for the supper dance, ousting Bridlington.

  ‘Don’t see there’s anything I can do if she’s already agreed to have supper with the fellow,’ he said, stretching his neck to peer over the sea of heads in the ballroom. ‘I’m engaged myself for the supper dance, as it happens. To Lady Emily.’ His wrapt expression as he said her name spoke volumes. ‘In fact...there she is! I must go, Sis. Look, don’t worry—nothing’s going to happen to Verity in a crowded ballroom. I’ll speak to Bridlington later.’

  Liberty bit back her frustration as Gideon hurried away. Was it really too much to ask him to take an interest in his sister and to protect her?

  ‘Libby.’ A flustered-looking Hope grabbed her arm. ‘My flounce is torn.’ She pivoted and indicated the damaged lace at her hem, at the back of her dress. ‘Will you come and help me fix it? Only I needs must make haste because it is the supper dance next and I am promised to Lord Whiteley.’

  ‘Of course.’ Liberty couldn’t mistake Hope’s suppressed excitement. It seemed she was as happy with her supper partner as Gideon was, unlike poor Verity. ‘Come, we’ll go to the withdrawing room and pin it up. It won’t take long.’

  As they headed upstairs, Hope said, ‘Are you quite well, Lib? You look a little out of sorts. Was it...was it something Lord Avon said?’ She glanced around, then drew Liberty to one side of the landing to sit on a window seat. ‘I saw you with him earlier and I cannot help but notice how you seem to...to...gravitate towards one another.’ She clutched Liberty’s hand. ‘Oh! Would it not be exciting if he fell in love with you?’

  Liberty wrenched her hand free and stood up. ‘What nonsense you talk at times, Hope. No
, it was nothing to do with Lord Avon. It was Gideon.’

  ‘Oh, Liberty! Have you been harrying him again? Why can’t you trust him?’

  Liberty bit her tongue, hurt that Hope assumed she was interfering when all she was trying to do was to protect Verity.

  ‘Come.’ She recalled she was due to partner Alex and that Dominic might join them for supper. Perhaps she would take him up on his offer after all, if Gideon was so blind to his brotherly duty. ‘I have a packet of pins in my pocket so we shall have that tear mended in a trice and you can return to your Lord Whiteley.’

  They went into the room set aside for the female guests. A maid was on duty, ready to assist any ladies who needed help, but Liberty waved her away. It would be a matter of moments to pin the flounce and then they could return to the ball. They went behind a screen placed across the room to afford privacy and Hope stepped up on to a low stool while Liberty knelt behind her. She barely registered the sound of the door opening until a haughty female voice said, ‘Have you seen that lumpy Lovejoy creature positively throwing herself at Avon?’

  Liberty froze as a spiteful titter sounded from the other side of the screen. She settled back on to her heels and looked up at Hope, who was peering over the top of the screen. Seeing her sister’s mouth come open, Liberty wrapped her fingers around her ankle and squeezed a warning. Hope glanced down and Liberty shook her head, putting one finger to her lips. Hope grimaced back and held three fingers aloft.

  ‘I declare, I don’t know how he remains civil to her.’ It was the same voice, one she did not recognise, but one that clearly denoted the aristocratic heritage of its owner. ‘I heard that she swooned right into his arms at the Trents’ rout party and, even before that, I saw her for myself in the Park, attempting to waylay him while he was driving me in his curricle.’

  Lady Caroline!

  Mrs Mount had identified Lady Caroline Warnock as Dominic’s passenger in the Park that day and, since then, Liberty had increasingly heard her name touted as the front runner in the race to become the Marchioness of Avon. It was hard to reconcile this malicious-sounding female with the butter-wouldn’t-melt-in-her-mouth young lady Liberty had seen in public.

  ‘But there...what else is to be expected of such a family?’ the hateful voice continued. ‘The Earl of Wendover, indeed! The grandson of a coal merchant! Better they allowed the title to slip into abeyance than let such people be elevated above their station.’

  ‘Did Avon mention her? I saw you talking with him.’ A different voice this time.

  ‘No, he did not. And quite rightly, too. She is far beneath his notice, although for some unfathomable reason his sister appears to be encouraging an acquaintance with the woman. No, Avon was too intent on engaging me for the supper dance.’

  Caroline’s smug self-satisfaction made Liberty long to slap her. A third voice joined in the conversation.

  ‘Well, I saw Avon dancing with her and they talked together afterwards, too. They looked positively intimate.’

  ‘Such a comment is beneath you, Elizabeth—’ Caroline again, her voice sharp now ‘—and I suggest you do not repeat it, for it makes you appear a bad loser. I have not heard anyone whisper your name in connection with Lord Avon’s list. But, then...a mere baronet’s daughter...hardly a fitting background for a duchess, is it, Pamela?’

  ‘Oh, no. Most unfitting, I agree.’ The breathless adoration in Pamela’s reply raised Liberty’s hackles and presumably had the same effect on the invisible Elizabeth, for a soft hmmph reached the listeners’ ears. ‘My brother is certain you will win him, Caro. Oh, to think! A marchioness! Vincent told me he has a hundred guineas riding on you, so you’d better make sure you win.’

  ‘Oh, I shall. I made sure to drop him a hint about poor Georgiana’s shocking piano playing. I don’t see her usurping me as favourite...and rumour has it Avon was less than impressed by Sarah and Amelia scuttling after him when Lumpy Liberty staged her swoon. But...let us not linger, or we shall miss the start of the supper dance. Did I mention that I am promised to Avon?’

  The door opened and closed and they heard a muttered ‘Yes. More than once’ from Elizabeth before she, too, left the room.

  ‘Well!’ Hope’s voice rang with indignation. ‘How dare—?’

  ‘Yes, yes. I agree, Hope, but let me finishing pinning your lace or we shall be late for the dance. We will complain bitterly about those arrogant madams later.’

  ‘Very well. But you will take note that I am not the only person who noticed that you and Avon seemed somewhat...friendly.’

  There was little she could say to that, so Liberty finished the repair and they hurried down to the ballroom, reaching the door just as the first strains of the dance sounded. Both of their partners were standing with Mrs Mount. Lord Whiteley’s face showed nothing but relief at the sight of Hope. Alex’s showed...nothing at all as their eyes met and Liberty’s courage wavered as she walked forward to take his hand. No doubt here was another one who disapproved of her and the thought of sharing supper with that spiteful cat, Caroline, set her stomach churning. How would she resist retaliating if Caroline was as nasty to her face as she had been in the withdrawing room?

  To her surprise, however, Alex was the perfect gentleman and at no point did his inoffensive conversation cause Liberty even the slightest discomfort. Once the dance was over, he escorted her into the second supper room where he had arranged to meet Olivia and Hugo. It was one of the smallest tables, set for six, and they were the first to sit down, shortly followed by Olivia and Hugo.

  ‘Well!’ Olivia’s attention was fixed on the doorway as footmen served the dishes for a hot supper. ‘I know you asked Dominic to join us, Alex, for he told me so himself. And he promised he would do so. Where can he be?’ She spooned up some white soup from the bowl set in front of her. ‘This is delicious! Oh! Look! There they are...and...is that not one of your sisters, Liberty?’

  Liberty looked up at the doorway to see Dominic walk into the room with Verity on one arm and Caroline—sporting a sour expression quite unlike her usual ladylike mien—on the other. Dominic looked...impassive. But the slight compression of his lips told her he was angry. Verity looked... Liberty pushed back her chair, ready to rush to her distressed sister’s aid, but a strong hand closed around her wrist, preventing her from rising.

  ‘Don’t draw attention,’ Alex muttered. ‘You’ll find out soon enough.’

  Dominic paused by a footman and murmured something, indicating their table with a nod of his head. The footman hurried away, and Dominic guided Verity and Caroline to their table. He seated Verity first, next to Liberty, and then a pursed-lipped Caroline next to Hugo. The footman brought another chair, which he placed between Verity and Caroline, and another man arrived with porcelain and silverware to set a place for Dominic. No one uttered a word until the servants were out of earshot, but Liberty could see Verity’s hands gripped tightly in her lap and her chest rose and fell as though she were out of breath.

  ‘What happened?’

  * * *

  Liberty’s question was directed at Dominic. He saw her grope for Verity’s hands and cover them, folding her fingers around them.

  ‘Bridlington became a little over-enthusiastic,’ he replied. ‘Fortunately, Caroline and I happened to see what he was about and I...er...persuaded him to think again.’

  Alex gestured at Dominic’s hand—he saw a smear of blood on his knuckle and slipped his hand beneath the table, out of sight.

  ‘Lord Avon was quite the hero,’ said Caroline. ‘Goodness knows what the outcome might have been for your dear sister, Miss Lovejoy, had he not intervened.’

  She smiled warmly at Dominic, surprising him. When they first saw Bridlington trying to manoeuvre Verity into a side room, Caroline had tried to persuade Dominic not to get involved, more concerned about her own and Dominic’s reputations than about what was happening to Verity. Maybe he
should excuse her immediate reaction. After all, most gently born ladies would surely prefer to avoid any sort of altercation.

  ‘I confess the entire event has shaken my nerves alarmingly.’ She reached for her glass with a visibly trembling hand. ‘I dare say I do not stem from such robust stock as the Lovejoys.’

  Liberty’s eyes glinted dangerously and her mouth opened.

  ‘I am sure no one was unaffected, Lady Caroline,’ Dominic interjected, quick to forestall Liberty. ‘But now I suggest we all settle down and enjoy this delicious supper and forget all about it. Lord Bridlington has left the ball now so there is no need to dwell upon what happened.’

  ‘But I want to know—’

  ‘You do know, Miss Lovejoy. I have told you.’

  ‘I should like to know as well,’ said Olivia. ‘Did you punch him, Dom? We’ve all seen the blood on your hand, so you needn’t bother to hide it.’ She leaned across the table. ‘Are you sure you are all right, Miss Lovejoy?’

  ‘I am all right now, thank you. I am exceedingly grateful to your brother, however.’ Verity smiled at him. ‘He is right...can we please forget this and enjoy our supper?’

  Olivia’s intervention had given Liberty time to subside, but Dominic could tell her blood was still simmering and he had no doubt he would be questioned thoroughly during their waltz. His pulse kicked at the thought of holding her even as he again mentally slated himself for taking the risk of dancing with her twice.

  ‘Indeed. I suggest we forget all about that unfortunate occurrence.’ Caroline raised her spoon to her mouth, and swallowed. ‘This white soup really is excellent, do you not agree?’

  ‘Excellent indeed. How fortunate it is not lumpy, Lady Caroline,’ said Liberty in a kindly manner. ‘That, I am persuaded, would quite spoil your enjoyment.’

  Dominic frowned and he saw Olivia shoot Liberty a questioning look, but Caroline seemed not to notice Liberty’s overtly sweet tone.

  ‘Indeed it would, Miss Lovejoy.’

 

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