Millie would not be obliged to give up her dream of love. Her sister was not robust. Being married for convenience would destroy her. She was made of sterner stuff. She had her books and her writing to lose herself in. Love was not something she needed to be content. Being the oldest, even if by only a few minutes, meant she must protect her younger sibling.
When she snuggled back under the covers, she was obliged to grit her teeth to stop them chattering. Eventually warm enough to drift off to sleep, she closed her eyes. For some extraordinary reason her dreams were full of the one man she wished to forget.
Chapter Three
“I do hope you are not going to sit there scowling like that, Rosamond.”
“No, Mama, I’m going to retire to the window seat and keep my poor humour to myself.” Rose half-smiled. “That’s unless I have your permission to vanish entirely and thus avoid the necessity of watching Millie being fawned over by a small army of hopeful suitors.”
Her sister giggled but her mother pursed her lips. “You may sit in the window seat, but you will greet any callers civilly. I wish to have no disappointing behaviour this afternoon, young lady.”
Quickly gathering up her novel, Rose retreated to the far end of the drawing room. From here, she could see the street below and warn her sister who to expect. The weather was inclement, but that was hardly surprising at the beginning of April. Maybe the blustery sleet would deter all but the most determined of young men from making a morning call. Their house was in the very centre of the metropolis, so most visitors could quite easily walk from their own homes and lodgings.
How ridiculous to have “morning” calls in the afternoon—but that was Society for you. She suspected most gentlemen and ladies did not rise until noon. Promptly at two o’clock, the first young bucks arrived at the door. She recognized neither of them, so could not call out any information to Millie.
Her sister was dressed in a delightful velvet tea-gown in buttercup yellow. With her hair in studied disarray she looked quite lovely. Small wonder the two extremely youthful callers were hanging on her every word. Even the beady eye of their ever watchful mother could not deter them.
When the requisite one quarter of an hour was up, Mama rang her little brass bell and York, their decrepit butler, staggered in to escort the gentlemen out. So matters proceeded for the next forty-five minutes—a constant stream of hopeful visitors. Millie was right to have said her season was going to be a success. However, none of the callers so far had passed muster with Mama or her sister.
At exactly three o’clock, the very last moment that would be considered polite to call, an imposing carriage rolled to a halt outside. To her surprise, the Duke of Essex alighted. Her book tumbled to the floor.
“Millie, you’ll never guess who has arrived. It’s Lord Bentley…he’s timed his visit to perfection. He will have you all to himself.”
Her mother gasped and fanned her cheeks with a periodical. Her sister paled and leapt to her feet in distress. “Mama, I can’t see him. I don’t want him to court me. He’s not the kind of man I could be happy with.”
Rose picked up her book and hurried over. “Don’t be a goose, my love. The Duke has come to pay his respects. A gentleman who danced with a young lady is expected to call the next day. This doesn’t mean he’s about to make you an offer.”
“Oh, I didn’t realize…”
“Nonsense. Rosamond, I know for a fact Lord Bentley does not make morning calls.”
With a gurgle of laughter Rose shook her head. “Mama, I hate to disagree, but as he is about to be announced, I know that he does.”
Today was to be a day for surprises. Perry had not expected such a substantial dwelling, or for the house to be in Grosvenor Square. Lord Bannerman was obviously a man of taste even if his business acumen was somewhat suspect.
He had not driven himself this afternoon because it would be dark by the time he completed his visit. The weather was too cold for him to travel in his recently purchased, high-perch phaeton. “Walk the horses around the square, I shall not be above a quarter of an hour.”
The door was opened by a liveried footman. He had not needed to knock. He handed his beaver and gloves to the waiting minion and turned to the shrivelled butler. “Lord Bentley to see…”
The old man nodded and sucking on his single tooth gestured towards the double doors that stood open across the elegant vestibule. The rumours he’d heard that the Bannerman household were in financial difficulties must be erroneous as there was a huge fire burning in the grate. This was not a house forced to make economies.
Perry’s lips twitched; he was obviously not to be announced but find his own way in. The ancient retainer had already shambled back to his chair positioned next to the heat. He was not accustomed to making morning calls. This was something he normally abhorred. However, one thing he did know was at this time he was likely to be the only visitor.
A rough looking footman bowed him in. “Another gentleman caller, my lady,” he said loudly. There was the definite sound of laughter. Being considered a figure of fun was one thing that incensed him. He entered, expecting to be bowled over by the beauty of Amelia, but his attention was caught by her sister. Today she was wearing an elegant pink gown with a sash of a darker colour that suited her to perfection. How could he have thought her plain last night?
Her remarkable violet eyes were sparkling with laughter. This was the girl he had heard. His mouth tightened in annoyance.
Millie shifted closer. Rose slipped her arm unobtrusively around her sister’s waist. When Symonds made his announcement she could not restrain her merriment. Where papa found these strange menservants she had no idea for they were certainly not in the common way.
All desire to laugh vanished as their visitor entered, every towering inch of him bristling with annoyance. She rose gracefully, taking her sister with her. Her mother was also on her feet. This was a gentleman who demanded the utmost respect.
“I must apologise for the inadequacy of the staff; Symonds has yet to understand the niceties. You are welcome, your Grace.”
Millie was trembling. How dare this man frighten her sister by his disdainful glare? Nobody had asked him to call; this was his decision. His manners were lacking, not theirs. Gently moving her sister forward, she tightened her hold and guided her into a synchronised curtsy. It took all her strength to bring Millie upright again without disaster.
Their irascible visitor returned the salutation. “Miss Amelia, I have come to pay my respects as is required of me.”
Rose moved slowly back until she could feel the sofa hard against her legs. She sat, taking her shivering companion with her. Her mother resumed her seat. The Duke flicked aside his coat tails and folded his length onto the chair furthest away from the three of them.
An uneasy silence settled over the group. Mama, usually not short of conversation, was struck dumb by the importance of their caller. There was no point expecting Millie to speak. He would certainly not do so; it would be far beneath his dignity to initiate a conversation. Therefore she must remedy the situation. Quite forgetting she was supposed to be the timid and less intelligent of the two, she stiffened her spine and met him stare for stare.
“Lord Bentley, I must beg your pardon for…” He raised an arrogant eyebrow and her desire to apologise was replaced by something else entirely. She smiled sweetly. “I beg your pardon for refusing to dance with you yesterday. However, I am certain my sister made a far better partner. Her beauty would have matched the high opinion you have of yourself.”
Mama’s hands flew up in shock and his mouth opened, revealing two rows of even white teeth. Millie recoiled and buried her face in the high back of the sofa.
His mouth closed with a snap.
Not only had she been unpardonably rude, she had also revealed her true character—which would make her behaviour last night even more reprehensible. What had possessed her to speak so intemperately?
She was on her feet as he surged upw
ards. Instead of backing away from his anger she stepped closer, holding his gaze. “I am so sorry, your Grace, that was unforgivable. You must realize I am the black sheep of the family. Normally I am kept locked in the attic where I can do no harm to anyone.”
His lips curved slightly and his rigid stance became less threatening. “Might I suggest, ma’am, that it would be advisable to remain incarcerated until you have…” he tipped his head to one side. “…until you have acquired the same sweetness of disposition as your sister.” His dark blue eyes were dancing with laughter.
Millie and Mama did not see this was said in humour and took his words as truth. Her sister, forgetting her nervousness, ran to confront the man who dared to suggest such a thing. Mama sailed across the carpet and stood protectively behind Rose.
Lord Bentley, seeing he was surrounded, stifled his laughter and retreated to the far side of the room.
“Mama, Millie, his Grace did not mean it. It appears we both have an eccentric sense of fun.”
From a distance, the gentleman in question added his confirmation. “I can assure you, madam, my suggestion was made in jest. I do apologise if I upset you and Miss Amelia.”
As one, the three of them swung round to face him. He no longer resembled the haughty aristocrat he had been when he first stepped into the room; now he was a different person entirely. Someone charming and dangerously attractive.
Rose, for the first time, felt uncomfortable in his presence. Her mother beamed at their guest, but Millie clapped her hands. “My lord, I fear I did not understand the joke, but I’m delighted we are all friends again. Please, will you be seated?”
He shook his head and a lock of hair fell forward over one eye. A strange sensation fizzed around Rose’s limbs. “I have already outstayed my welcome. Lady Bannerman, I came to ask your daughter to accompany me to the park at two o’clock tomorrow. Do I have your permission to escort her or will she be paying calls?”
Mama positively quivered with excitement. “She will be here, your Grace, waiting when you drive up—it is far too inclement to keep your team standing.”
With a formal nod, he took his leave; the room seemed empty afterwards. Rose drifted back to the window seat. The light of the lanterns made it just possible to see him climb into his carriage. She sighed. He was definitely interested in Millie. He was quite wrong for her sister and she would make it her business to discourage his intentions.
That evening Rose ate her supper alone in the private parlour attached to her shared bed chamber. Millie had gone to Lady Charlotte Simpson’s come-out ball. Rose had promised to remain awake until her sister returned so she could be told every detail.
She was well-pleased with the arrangement; her mother had agreed she could attend lesser events. She was to go out the following night to hear a much lauded soprano sing at an intimate gathering. It had also been understood between them that she could adjust her wardrobe as she saw fit. Both she and Mary, her abigail, had been busy all evening removing frills and furbelows from all her evening wear.
Mary had been dismissed long ago. The clock showed an hour after midnight when Rose heard the first carriages returning. Millie would be home very soon and she was to act as her maid tonight. She hung up the garment she had been working on, then picked up the warming pan and ran it several times through the bed. Satisfied the sheets were no longer icy and that everything was ready, she returned to her seat by the fire.
Less than twenty minutes later, running footsteps heralded Millie’s arrival. Her heart thumped uncomfortably. Something untoward had occurred for nothing else could account for this unaccustomed speed. She stood up and waited, her fingers clenched, dreading what disaster might have befallen whilst she had not been at Millie’s side to protect her.
The door burst open and her sister flung herself across the room to grasp Rose’s hands. “You will never guess what happened tonight! I have met him again. Things happened exactly as I thought they would. One glance was all it took between us to know that we are destined to be together.”
“Who is the lucky man? Is he someone suitable?”
Millie twirled around the room, her domino flying out in a cloud of saffron silk. “Do you recall that summer five years ago when you persuaded me to climb a tree and I fell out?” Rose nodded, guessing what would follow. “Well, Sir Richard Devonshire is the gentleman who caught me and he is the man I have fallen in love with.”
“From what I remember, he’s certainly a personable young man. I believe he’s still our brother’s friend and David is a good judge of character.”
Her sister flopped into a chair. “Richard is everything I ever dreamt of for a husband. He’s perfect in every way. Although not as rich as some others we know, he is well able to take care of me. He is coming tomorrow at two o’clock to speak to Mama.”
Good grief! This young man was as impetuous and impractical as her sister. They had neither of them thought the matter through. To become betrothed after one meeting—two if you counted the summer all those years ago—was unlikely to meet with approval from either family.
But Millie was so happy she couldn’t bear to spoil things for her. “I suggest, dearest, that you do not speak of your feelings to Mama just yet. She will fly into high alt and write to our papa and we do not wish him to be worried at this time, do we?”
“Very well, I will do as you suggest. But if I am asked, I shall not lie.”
Rose carefully removed her sister’s finery and tossed it over the wooden stand. They scrambled into bed and, as usual, her sister was soon in the land of nod. Millie was already committed to driving with Lord Bentley and her sister could not be in two places at once. She must come up with a satisfactory solution.
The request had been that “your daughter” accompany him. As he had not specified which of them he was referring to, he could not cavil if she appeared in her sister’s place. With luck he would arrive on the hour and they would be gone before Sir Richard arrived. Heaven knows what their mother’s reaction would be when this gentleman appeared and she discovered Millie was not the one who had left with the Duke.
Millie was more than happy to fall in with this scheme. She hated to deceive their mama but agreed there was no other way. Whilst her sister sat flicking through the pages of the latest La Belle Assemblée, Rose stood in the huge closet viewing her many outfits.
“Mary, I must find something comparable to an ensemble Millie would wear. If I look too dissimilar I’ll be recognized and the Duke might well refuse to take me up.”
“It’s not for me to say, miss, but I think you’re asking for trouble. His Grace will be right cross with you both. I don’t reckon he’s a gentleman used to being tricked.”
Rose did not reprimand her for the comment. Mary had been taking care of them for so long she felt entitled to voice her opinions in this way. “I’m sure you are correct, however, I have no choice. Millie wouldn’t be happy with him. He frightens her.”
Her eye alighted on an outfit ordered for her sister that had been made, in error, to fit herself. This was in royal blue—not a favourite colour of hers—and liberally festooned with unnecessary gold decoration. This had never been worn.
“Excellent. I shall wear this; I seem to remember it has a bonnet with an extremely wide brim. It will be all but impossible for him to see my face.”
Decked out in the gaudy gown and matching pelisse with the ridiculous bonnet on her head, she stepped into the sitting room. The magazine fell from Millie’s fingers. “Oh! I had forgotten about that outfit. Royal blue and gold is rather startling, is it not?”
Rose could think of several less flattering descriptions. “This is certainly not an ensemble one is likely to forget. I cannot think what possessed you to insist on so much frogging. I thank the good Lord at least my own half-kid boots are plain.”
Giggling, Millie ran to embrace her. “At least no one shall recognize you inside that bonnet. To tell you the truth, I’m relieved I never had to wear that outfit. I
shall never forget your kindness, darling Rose, and would do the same for you.”
Mary, who was watching from the window, called out. “My goodness, would you look at that! He’s bought one of them high up carriages. You wouldn’t get me on one of those, I can tell you.”
“Thank goodness I am not going out with him; I would have been terrified to sit so far above the ground. Good luck, Rose.”
Rose timed her exit to perfection. She whisked through the vestibule in a flurry of royal blue and gold whilst Millie, from the stairs, called her farewells to Mama who was in the drawing-room. The front door was open. She ran lightly down the steps, keeping her head lowered. As she had hoped the Duke had remained aloft, leaving his tiger and a footman to assist her into the vehicle.
“Good afternoon, Miss Bannerman. It is fortunate the sun is out as it will make the drive so much more pleasant.” Solicitously he tucked the rug around her knees, snapped his whip expertly, flicked the reins and the phaeton moved smoothly into the road.
Chapter Four
Whilst the Duke was concentrating on his driving there was less likelihood of him becoming aware of the deception. What would he do if he discovered he was taking the wrong sister for a drive in the park before they had left the confines of the square? From under her bonnet, Rose spotted Sir Richard heading for the house. As the brim of his hat was pulled down low and he was wearing a muffler around his neck, she sincerely hoped he would remain unrecognized by the gentleman beside her.
The Duke was no fool. Before long he would realize why he had been fobbed off with the wrong sister. As long as he thought it a harmless prank she was sure he would not be unduly dismayed.
Discovering he had been snubbed for a lesser mortal would be another matter entirely.
From her lofty perch she was able to see the gates of the park long before they arrived. If she was honest, she was enjoying the experience. The Duke was an excellent whip and handled his spirited team of matching blacks with authority. He was obliged to join a queue of like-minded vehicles wishing to enter.
Miss Bannerman and The Duke Page 3