The Duke She Wished For

by Ellie St. Clair

  Tabitha looked at the crowd that had gathered in little clusters around the garden and the adjoining room. Some seemed hardly engaged in the conversation they were currently in and more concerned with who other people were talking to.

  “I like having a purpose. I hate trying to please people for no reason. And I love marzipan.”

  “Are you interested in Alexander? Are the two of you courting?”

  The question landed at her feet and she blinked. Alexander? She had completely forgotten him in the last few moments.

  “No, it is nothing like that,” she said.

  “Could it be something like that?” He pressed.

  “No,” she said, knowing she was far too below Alexander’s station, and, when she thought of it, she really did think of him as a friend whose company she enjoyed. He was attractive, but she didn’t find herself drawn to him in that way. “We are cousins, and friends.”

  Nicholas let out a breath and nodded to himself.

  “Very good,” he murmured, causing her eyes to fly up to his as he stared at her intently. He was silent for a moment as his gaze roamed her face before settling on her mouth. She was mesmerized by the gleam in his chestnut eyes and felt her heart beat faster in her chest.

  “Nicholas, dear,” a female voice called from across the shrubbery, breaking the spell. “I need your assistance in answering one of the Admiral’s questions.”

  It was Lady Gemma. Nicholas' handsome face fell a bit and he closed his eyes. When he opened them again, they were heated.

  “Our discussion is far from over, Miss Kenmore,” he said in a whisper as he grasped her hand in his and squeezed. The contact sent an electric shock up her arm and made her gasp. “Do not move.”

  He was gone moments later and Tabitha struggled to catch her breath. What had just happened? Was she really going to further their very personal discussion? It was madness to even consider it. As she stood there wondering how to get herself out of this mess, Anita raced around a corner with red cheeks and wide eyes.

  “There you are, miss,” she gasped and motioned for Tabitha to follow her. “Quickly, now. Quickly!”

  She struggled to keep up with the maid as they took a side entrance into the house and wound through the hallways back to the kitchen. Pushing through the door, she found Lorna and Alexander waiting there, neither looking particularly happy.

  “What?” She asked as she moved into the room.

  “We need to get you out of here,” Alexander said in a low voice. “The serpents are asking questions about you and your origins.”

  Tabitha sucked in a breath.

  “We knew it would be risky and from what Alexander says, you did a fantastic job, Miss Blackmore,” Lorna said, wringing her hands. “But to save all of us from any complications or trouble, we should send you home now. Alexander will tell them that you were called away by your mother due to an emergency of some sort. That she has returned early from her travels and she requires your assistance immediately. He is a clever lad, he will take care of it.”

  “And what of Lady Gemma?”

  “Alexander will keep an eye on her, and the party is almost finished.”

  Tabitha nodded mutely. They were right. She should leave quietly without another word to Nicholas. What would he think when he found out she was the near-penniless daughter of a baronet? She would be the brunt of society’s jokes for a good while if she were found out. And Lorna. What sort of trouble would she get into?

  “Anita gathered your things and there is a chaise waiting on the west side of the house,” Lorna pulled Tabitha into a warm hug, squeezing her tight. “You did a marvelous job, my girl. We only wish you could have stayed longer.”

  Alexander held his hand out to Tabitha.

  “I would be more than honored to have a woman like you in my family, Tabitha,” he said and pressed her hand in his, topping it with a quick kiss to her knuckles. “Live well. Perhaps our paths will cross again someday.”

  She smiled, forcing herself to look cheerier than she felt.

  “I would like that, Lord Alexander, as doubtful as I may be of the occurrence,” she said. “Stay out of trouble.”

  She turned and followed Anita through the servants’ hallways out the front of the house. In no time, she was loaded into the carriage, the door shut behind her, and riding away from the Fairchild home and from Lord Nicholas, the Duke of Stowe.

  Her stomach plummeted and she could not stop thinking that this had all been a big mistake.

  10

  Nicholas extracted himself from the conversation with his mother and the Admiral as quickly as possible so as to return to Miss Kenmore. He smiled to himself as he turned the corner around the shrubbery. Finally! A woman with wit and intelligence, who knew how to make him laugh and expressed what she felt.

  Never mind the fact that she was stunning, with a captivating face and petite yet strong frame with small curves that her plain dress perfectly accented, the ribbon tied around a waist from which flowed hips he longed to feel against him. And the way she returned his gaze with those violet eyes of hers stirred him, as she didn’t shrink from him or drop her eyes coquettishly.

  He could not wait to continue their conversation. He returned where he had left her and stopped suddenly, looking around him in confusion. In the few short minutes he had left, she had disappeared. Perhaps she had gone in for refreshments, or had been caught up in conversation with another guest.

  Nicholas continued searching the gardens before returning indoors. She was nowhere to be found. He continued through the library, the sitting room, and even asked Lorna to check her bedchambers.

  Lorna raised an eyebrow at him but did as he asked without comment. “It appears, Nicholas, that she has left the party,” she told him.

  “Left? Whatever do you mean?”

  “It seems she was called away to an emergency regarding her mother,” she replied.

  “Where is Alexander?”

  “I shall ask on his whereabouts.”

  “Bring him to the library when you find him, please, Lorna.”

  When Alexander stepped through the library doors, he found Nicholas sitting in his overstuffed chair, looking through the windows in bewilderment, his foot tapping impatiently.

  “Alex, there you are. What has happened to your cousin?”

  “My cousin? Oh you mean Miss Kenmore? She was called away to attend to her mother, who is returned from her travels due to an illness I believe. She requested Miss Kenmore’s presence immediately. Why do you ask?”

  “Because, Alex, I find her… intriguing and I should like to know more. Where does she live? I will call upon her tomorrow.”

  “I… am not entirely sure where in London her mother resides. Previously I visited Miss Kenmore at her country home and she was staying at our family home in London before her mother returned.”

  “Find where she is, will you Alex?”

  “I shall do my best, Nick.”

  “Tell me about her. Why have I never met her before? Why is she so different from the other young women of the ton? She is refreshing. She is not only honest and open, but she has quick wit and protected my mother -- twice -- from Lady Hester. For that, I am truly grateful.”

  Alexander answered in as general terms as he could, using the back story of her well-traveled childhood and her wish to become acquainted with the peerage before her own season would been. He explained that he did not know much further as he had so recently become acquainted with her himself.

  “You have no designs on her, Alex, do you?”

  “No, Nicholas, I feel that while Miss Kenmore and I are friendly and I do enjoy her company and conversation, we lack the spark that I feel is necessary for further liaisons. Am I to assume that you feel said spark with cousin Tabitha?”

  “You assume correctly. She may no longer have a need to prepare for her season. Find her for me, Alex.”

  11

  Despite being nervous those first few days back in her old rou
tine that the truth of her charade would be found out, life pressed on like it always did. A week later, Tabitha had firmly pushed all thoughts of her 48 hours in society to the back of her mind.

  Except for the thoughts of Nicholas and the way he had looked at her as they stood in the gardens. She could not quite shake that image from her memory and she was not certain that she even wanted to. She would cherish that feeling for the rest of her life.

  Life with Ellora and Frances resumed without much of a hiccup.

  “I hope you enjoyed your time away,” her stepmother said with a sneer. “That shan’t be happening again any time soon. You have far too much work to go gallivanting around with the daughter of a sailor.”

  As usual, Tabitha merely nodded and said nothing. She knew better than to argue and her life was always easier when she operated on her own, outside of Ellora’s knowledge. While Ellora might be demanding and controlling, she was also an incredibly lazy woman who didn’t check Tabitha’s stories unless there was a financial benefit to it.

  Tabitha thought how ironic it was she was able to speak her mind to a lady of the ton yet kept silent to her own stepmother. She supposed the difference was in consequence. Until she had enough funds to back her schooling, she needed a roof over her head and the income the shop provided. She wasn’t far now. Bernard had appeared with the promised funds and then some, and Tabitha began quietly making plans to attend the millinery school.

  Two weeks later, Tillie sat in the workshop with Tabitha as she packed up a stack of hats that were going to be part of a fashion display in Rochester’s. Her work would be features alongside of (or on top of) some of Tillie’s finest gowns. It was a big moment for both of them and had resulted in many sleepless nights finishing the show pieces and keeping it from Ellora as best Tabitha could. While she was hoping for a few referral clients, she did not want Ellora’s nose in the middle of it all.

  Luckily for her, Frances had received a number of invitations over the past two weeks, which had kept mother and daughter busy with prepping, gossiping, and scheming. There was an earl’s son who had asked Frances to dance three nights ago and, so far, that was all they had spoken of at dinner. Still, Tabitha could not complain at being allowed to slink into the shadows and be forgotten once her household “chores” were done.

  “Tabitha,” Tillie snapped her fingers in her friend’s face. “Snap out of it. I think you’re accessorizing this fascinator to death. Let it be. It’s perfect.”

  “What?” Tabitha’s eyes blinked back to life. “Oh. Yes. Of course. Thanks.”

  Her friend gave a snort of laughter.

  “Where was your mind just now? On a particular duke with a handsome face and smoldering eyes?”

  Because she had been nearly bursting with the need to tell someone and her best friend had been bursting with the need to know what exactly happened after she left the Fairchild house, Tabitha had given Tillie every last detail. Including just how handsome and intense Lord Nicholas had turned out to be. Funny enough, Tillie had seemed more interested in everything she knew about Alexander.

  “I have seen Lord Alexander at a few parties from afar,” Tillie had said over coffee one morning. “Such a striking man. I’m particularly fond of freckles.”

  Looking at the rosy hue to Tabitha’s face now, Tillie knew she had assumed correctly on her mind’s occupation, caught in daydreams about that short garden interaction.

  “We need to get these over to the shop soon,” Tillie said as she stood, having mercy on Tabitha by changing the subject and pulling her to her feet.

  They made their way in Tillie’s small chaise and directed the groom toward the dress shop in Cheapside. Once there, the shop owner fussed over their deliveries, pulling each one out and nearly drowning them with compliments in his heavy French accent.

  “Ahmaaaayzing, cheries,” He sang as he unpacked all of their goods. In short order, they had signed the paperwork, allowing him to display their designs and were back in the carriage looking forward to their favorite chocolate and coffee shop.

  Over a cup of chocolate and a pastry, Tillie let out a cry and started searching her person, desperate to find something.

  “My reticule!” She cried. “It has my money in it and I must have left it on the counter at Rochester’s.”

  She’d already finished with her food, but Tabitha was not quite half done.

  “You stay,” Tillie said. “I’ll have Jennings drive me back and we shall return for you. It will give you time to finish.”

  “Are you certain?” Tabitha asked, looking around at the crowded shop.

  “Quite,” Tillie said with a smile as she made her way between the tables. “I shall be back in a half hour at most.”

  In a flash, she was gone and Tabitha was left alone.

  She ate quietly and wondered about how she was going to finish the next batch of orders she had waiting for her on the worktable—she had run out of gold ribbon and it was at the height of popularity right now. Perhaps she would run down to the fabric shop before they returned home.

  The front door creaked open and a familiar, very masculine voice drifted across the shop to her.

  “I shall wait here for you to find another one,” the man said and Tabitha’s nerves fired to life. She glanced around for an exit before the voice’s owner, Nicholas Fairchild, rounded the corner and made his way into the small room where the customers sat at small tables. She was trapped—the only exit was the door he was currently standing in front of. Lucky for her, she and Tillie had selected a table near the back of the room and next to a window.

  Shifting her chair so that her back was toward the entrance of the shop, Tabitha tried her best to look busy, disinterested, and as unapproachable as possible. Her back was mostly to him—there was no way he’d recognize her from this angle after such a brief interaction weeks ago. While every detail of his face was etched in her mind, it was rather unlikely she stood out to him among the sea of young ladies spending time in his acquaintance. As much as she longed to talk to him, she no longer wanted to lie and yet could not very well tell the truth. He was a duke and she a milliner.

  She listened as he moved to order something to drink and had even keyed into the sound of his footsteps as he approached the seating area. Her cheeks grew hotter and hotter as the sound of him walking stopped and she had no idea where he was.

  Was he selecting a table near hers? Had he given up because it was crowded this morning? How much simpler it would all be if he chose to wait outside for whoever he was with.

  Believing he had left and she was in the clear, she let out a breath she didn’t realize she’d been holding and relaxed, finishing the last bite of her pastry.

  A half-breath later, a large body was next to her, pulling out the chair beside her and sitting down.

  She squeezed her eyes shut. She was trapped, like a scared little bunny in the corner of a chocolate shop.

  “Well, well, well,” his smooth voice said, alarmingly close to her and dangerously amused. “Look what we have here. It’s the ghost herself.”

  Prying her eyes open, she chanced a glance at him and regretted it immediately. The rainy day had caused his hair to fall from its perfect styling into his eyes. He looked mussed, rugged, and perfect and her heart was a traitor for how fast it was beating at his nearness.

  “Lord Nicholas,” she managed, her voice breaking. “Funny seeing you here.”

  He chuffed a laugh.

  “Miss Kenmore,” he replied with a smile. “Funny seeing you at all, seeing how you ceased to exist the moment I took my eyes off you.”

  She opened her mouth to speak but closed it again. She was lost. She didn’t know what to say.

  “I am sorry about that,” was all she managed. “As soon as you left me, one of the maids came to fetch me. There was an emergency and it was imperative that I leave the party straight away.”

  He nodded at her and took a slow sip from his cup, studying her. Was she such a bad liar? Could he
read her face so easily?

  “And are things with your mother well once again?”

  Tabitha was struggling with reading this man. Did he believe her lies or was he baiting her further? She could not recall what had been wrong with her imagined mother. Either way, this was terrible and she wanted to disappear into the wooden floorboards beneath her.

  “Everything is as it should be now, yes,” she said, finally. “Thank you. How are you? How is Her Grace?”

  Nicholas leaned forward on his elbow and rested his face on his hand, looking all parts the smitten lad. What was he doing? It was hardly proper for a man of his station to be mooning over a girl like her.

  “Mamma is well, thank you,” he said. “And suddenly I find myself doing much, much better. What have you been doing these past weeks? Something tells me you are not the type to sit around sharpening your embroidery and conversation skills in some stuffy salon. Where have you been?”

  Stuck in her workshop, sharpening those very same embroidery skills on rows and rows of felt and velvet?

  “Nothing I have been doing in that time would be considered exciting,” she said. “Simply living. And you? Tell me, what does a duke do with his spare time?”

  He laughed at that and sat back comfortably, leading Tabitha to relax too.

  For the next twenty minutes, the two spoke about books, artists, and music. What they liked. What they did not like. What they thought of the next few singers booked in the lower hall at Chelsea (both happened to be in agreement that the soprano would be a good show and that the chamber players would not be anything they hadn’t already seen). As their conversation became easy and comfortable, they unknowingly found themselves leaning into one another, an underlying tension between them as they each desired more closeness.

  The front bell sounded again and Tabitha looked up and saw Jennings, Tillie’s groom, looking for her. She stood abruptly, surprising Nicholas, who quickly got to his feet.

  “It was wonderful to see you again,” she said hastily as she nearly sprinted for the front door. “But I am sorry! I really must go.”