Miss Bannerman and The Duke

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Miss Bannerman and The Duke Page 7

by Fenella J Miller


  Rose stepped aside, allowing her sister to walk next to him. As they were moving through the crush an elegant lady accosted her.

  “Miss Bannerman, my brother was to have introduced us. I am Lady Laura Foster, this is my daughter Charlotte.”

  Millie, Mama and Sir Richard had forged on, not realising Rose had been obliged to stop. She curtsied and smiled at her future sister-in-law. “My lady, I must thank you for obtaining this beautiful gown at such short notice.”

  “I was pleased to be of assistance, my dear. To see my brother thinking of someone else’s comfort for a change made me realize, however unfortunate the beginning of this betrothal, you are obviously the right bride for him.”

  Rose curtsied. “I sincerely hope you are right, my lady.” She soon discovered her sister and mama happily ensconced in a small alcove away from the throng. Sir Richard was sitting with them and jumped to his feet as she arrived.

  “Miss Bannerman, please take my seat. If it should be left empty for a moment some other wretch will steal it away.”

  “Then I shall be seated immediately. I am delighted to meet you again, Sir Richard. Millie has already told me so much about you.”

  “I have, we were just discussing how odd it is that both of us should have been rescued from that oak tree by the very men we are now…” Millie flushed scarlet.

  Sir Richard instantly dropped to one knee, attracting a deal of unwanted attention with his dramatic gesture. This was neither the place nor the time to make a declaration, but there was no stopping him. He was as impulsive as her sister.

  “Amelia, my love, will you do me the inestimable honour of becoming my wife?”

  Her sister clapped her hands. “I will, you know I will.”

  “Sir Richard, you are making a cake of yourself. Get up, please.” Rose laughed.

  Quite unrepentant, he grinned and bounced upright. “There, now you are both engaged to be married to the men who saved you from the oak tree all those years ago.” He bowed in the direction of Mama. “Lady Bannerman, I apologise if I have embarrassed you. I know I should have spoken to you first, but I could not have my darling think I didn’t love her enough to speak in public.”

  Her mother beamed at her future son-in-law. “It would have been better to have done things in the more normal way; however I am delighted to welcome you to the family. My dear husband will not believe it when he returns in a few weeks. Both my daughters engaged, and to such splendid gentlemen.”

  Word of this would already be flying around the ballroom and it would not be long before it reached the ears of the Duke. She sincerely hoped he would be as amused as she was by the incident.

  She kissed her sister. “I’m happy for you, I’m glad you have found the man of your dreams.” Whilst her mother was occupied with Sir Richard and Millie she took the opportunity to slip away. Several hopeful gentlemen had been drifting in her direction, obviously intending to ask her to stand up with them.

  She had no intention of remaining in the ballroom. Surely there must be somewhere she could sit and compose herself in this vast establishment? She would seek out the library or some other quiet place.

  The wide corridor was empty. The noise from upstairs created a background hum.

  She heard the orchestra begin to play. She paused, listening. This was a set dance—there would be two parts to it. She had more than half an hour before anything else was played.

  Her sister’s sudden engagement was an added problem. Mama had made it very plain one of them must marry money in order to save the family. Sir Richard was not wealthy, which meant the responsibility was on her shoulders. Breaking off her engagement was no longer an option.

  The third door she opened was a small drawing room. A fire burned brightly in the grate, giving sufficient light to see the room was empty. She ignited a candle from the flames. Selecting a small upholstered chair, she smoothed her gown and sat down carefully. The music filtered down from the ballroom above. It should be simple enough to work out when she should return.

  Perry was arranging to view a team of thoroughbreds owned by a crony of his. He didn’t need any more horses, but this opportunity was too good to miss. He had wanted to purchase this particular set of chestnuts since he saw them last spring. He was not pleased to be interrupted by an acquaintance he always did his best to avoid.

  “My word, Bentley, have you heard the latest? Devonshire has just made Miss Amelia Bannerman on offer in full view of dozens of people. An eccentric family, wouldn’t you say?”

  What next? Richard had always been impetuous. No doubt he considered himself head over ears in love and had been chivvied into declaring himself. He had better go and tell Rose before she heard it from someone else.

  He could see his niece dancing and Miss Amelia, but there was no sign of Rose. She must be sitting with her mother somewhere. He picked out Lady Bannerman and scanned the row of gilt chairs. Rose was nowhere to be seen. He looked more closely at the couples on the floor; she was not dancing either.

  It should be easy enough to find her even in this crush. As he was threading his way across an anteroom he came face-to-face with Richard and his future bride. “Congratulations, Richard. I hope you will not want a double wedding?”

  Immediately, Miss Amelia nodded. “What a wonderful idea, your Grace. After all Rose and I are twins and you and Sir Richard good friends.”

  God forbid! He schooled his features before answering. “I am looking for your sister, is she with Lady Bannerman?”

  “No, she left some time ago.”

  Keeping his disquiet to himself, he smiled and excused himself. It took him a further quarter of an hour to be certain Rose was not upstairs. This meant she must be in one of the ladies’ retiring rooms.

  He waylaid a maid and sent her to enquire. A few minutes later the girl returned. She curtsied nervously. “Your Grace, Miss Bannerman has not been in any of the rooms set aside. I have no idea where she might be.”

  Waving the woman away, he frowned. Where would a girl go in a house she did not know? There were several doors further up the corridor. He would try those before setting up a search party. He knocked, received no answer and opened the door. The room was in darkness; there was no one inside here.

  When he opened the second one there was light inside. Slowly he stepped in. His breath caught in his throat; he had never seen anything so lovely. Curled up on a fireside chair was the girl he sought. She was fast asleep with her glorious dress spread out around her and her face resting on one hand.

  How could he have ever thought her plain? She was the most beautiful girl in the world and she had agreed to marry him. Somehow he must convince her she was not making a sacrifice but stepping into a future full of wonderful possibilities.

  Should he wake her or leave her to sleep? Undecided, he stepped closer and stubbed his toe on the chair leg that had been hidden by her skirts. He could not hold back his curse. His feet were as unprotected as a girl’s in these wretched slippers.

  Rose heard him swear and sat up her eyes wide with apprehension. She pressed herself against the chair back, waiting for him to roar at her. He was quite terrifying when he was in a rage. She managed to stutter a few words. “Please, do not be angry; I did not mean to fall asleep. Have I missed our first waltz?”

  He dropped into a chair opposite, his expression tender and with no sign of irritation at all. “I beg your pardon for using such language in your presence, sweetheart. I crushed my toe. I fear I might be unable to dance at all.” His smile told her he was funning.

  “I do hope you have not broken it. There is nothing worse than the pain of a damaged toe. How did you find me?” Her brow furrowed. “More to the point, sir, why are you here at all?”

  “I heard about your sister’s engagement and came to warn you. When I discovered you were not upstairs I became concerned you might be unwell. I thought it sensible to explore these chambers before involving anyone else in my search.”

  She was embarrassed
to be found sleeping like a child by her future husband. She was a woman grown and for some reason this was a point she wished to make very clear between them. Dropping her feet to the floor, she stood. There was no need to rearrange her gown as it flowed around her naturally.

  She waited. He unfolded from the chair. That peculiar darkness was in his eyes again. She held out her hand. He hesitated then moved fast. His arms encircled her waist and she was lifted from her feet and crushed against his chest with such passion her head spun. Her head tilted of its own volition and his mouth closed over hers. His lips were hard, demanding something she did not know how to give him.

  Then they softened, left her bruised mouth and began a magic trail from her jaw line to her shoulder. She relaxed into his embrace and strange warmth engulfed her. With what sounded more like a groan than speech he kissed her lips a second time and released her. For a second she thought her knees would give way and then she recovered her composure. He had, like the other time, turned his back on her.

  “Have I upset you? Should I not have been so forward?”

  “Yet again, I have behaved disgracefully.” He swung back. His face was hard to see at the far side of the room. “I shall wait for you in the vestibule.”

  Fortunately there was a small glass on the wall above a side table. From the light of the single candlestick she restored her appearance. The lovely diamond tiara had slipped sideways at a rakish angle and the shoulder of her gown was similarly disarranged.

  She was still unsure if what had taken place between them was a good thing or a bad. She had only wanted to demonstrate she was an adult. He had misinterpreted her gesture as an invitation to…to take liberties. One thing she was certain of: such behaviour was only permissible between couples who were betrothed. Whatever her wishes, she feared she was irretrievably entangled. She must marry a man she wasn’t sure she liked and who quite possibly despised her.

  It would not do to be tardy for he was not a patient man. Her heart skipped a beat when she saw him striding up and down the all but empty vestibule. The more she saw of him, the more she was forced to admit he was the most attractive man she had ever set eyes on.

  “Come, my love, we shall dance? I assume you have learned the steps of the waltz?”

  “I have, and sometimes I even perform them correctly.”

  His smile was beguiling. “I have an ingenious solution. Why don’t you stand on my toes? Nobody would know as the length of your skirts will disguise this. That way you can be sure of making no mistakes.”

  Her gurgle of laughter attracted attention. “I shall do no such thing. You assured me you are the best dancer in Town so I shall rely on your expertise to guide me.” Couples were already drifting onto the polished floor, an air of expectancy hung over the room. She could sense the beady eyes of the matrons seated around the chamber boring into her back. She was unmoved. The Duke was there to protect her good name now. He was a law unto himself. He did as he pleased, knowing Society would forgive him. Hopefully, in future, her transgressions would also be overlooked.

  The violins soared, filling the space with the beautiful notes of a waltz. She placed one hand on his shoulder. He clasped her other one. The heat from his hand scorched through the thin material of her gown. She was being branded by his imprint.

  Surefooted, he guided her around the floor. For the first time the steps made sense. She glided beside him as if she had been performing this dance every day of her life. Slowly he tightened his hold until they were dancing far closer than was considered proper. She became part of him.

  “This is the most amazing sensation, your Grace. I feel as if I am floating on air.”

  His eyes burned into hers. “Tonight you’re my silver angel. Small wonder you are flying.”

  They twirled around the floor. She was oblivious to everything but the music and the man holding her so possessively to his heart. She felt him stiffen and looked up anxiously. His lopsided grin made her stomach somersault.

  “I hate to tell you this, darling girl, but we have the floor to ourselves. No, do not hesitate. We are invincible tonight.”

  Chapter Eight

  Somehow Rose managed to complete the dance without showing her disquiet. He seemed unperturbed by being the centre of attention. He continued to lead the way around the floor as if he frequently danced in public.

  Eventually the music died. She wanted to run away, but he held her steady. A spontaneous burst of applause echoed around the ballroom and his fingers dug into her waist. “Smile, my dear. Take it in your stride.”

  Held close to him as she was, she could do nothing else. She smiled as instructed, but directed it at him. For a delicious moment she thought he would kiss her in front of the assembled crowd. Then he recovered and swept her across the floor. He nodded graciously at all who congratulated them on their solo performance, but did not pause until they were safely away from the crush.

  “We shall be safe here for supper is not to be served until after the next dance. Don’t look so stricken, little one. Tonight you have conquered Society.”

  The mention of food made her stomach gurgle. She had been too nervous to eat. Nothing had passed her lips since first thing this morning. “I am not upset, your Grace—”

  “I am heartily sick of hearing you calling me your Grace.”

  “I call you Lord Bentley as well, and I believe that sometimes I say sir. I don’t lard my conversation with unnecessary endearments. If you agree to use my given name without embellishment then I shall agree to address you however you wish.”

  “Then in future you may use my given name. I take it you do know what it is.”

  “Peregrine, but I believe your intimates are allowed to call you Perry.”

  His look sent warning signals flashing around her already overheated body. “I give you permission to call me Perry. Now, from the ominous rumblings I’ve been hearing from the direction of your middle, I take it you are hungry.”

  “I am ravenous. I was trying to tell you, your…Perry. That is why I look pained—no other reason I do assure you.” She viewed the loaded buffet table eagerly. “Do you think Lady Ponsonby would object if we help ourselves?”

  “By the time we have what we want the doors will be open and everyone else will have flooded in.” He nodded at the row of wigged footmen standing rigid against the far wall. He raised a hand in the direction of the table and instantly two servants hurried forward to attend to his needs.

  “Is there anything you particularly want? I see lobster patties, salmon in aspic, every possible variety of cold meat and all the condiments to go with them.”

  “I love lobster patties, and salmon…” She sighed. “In fact, I like all you’ve mentioned. Perhaps we could taste everything?”

  The hovering footmen rushed to fill their plates. Perry took her to a small table tucked discreetly behind a pillar. There were already name cards in place. He removed them and handed them to a waiting servant. “Deal with these. We are sitting here.”

  During the ten minutes they were obliged to wait for their food he was at his most charming. Was he also changing his opinion of her, as she was of him? From behind the enormous flower arrangement, a footman appeared.

  “Good grief! A second table? Why do we need this?” She was to discover the answer as a further four servants appeared each carrying plates piled high with food. Rose was about to point out they did not want so much when Perry shook his head.

  She watched in awe as five dishes of savouries were arranged on the table at which they sat. The other three were of sweet things and they were placed on the spare one. Next empty plates were placed in front of each of them and further crockery for the desserts. A jug of lemonade and a bottle of claret were somehow squeezed onto the cloth.

  Perry leaned back in his chair and spoke quietly to the senior man. The footman nodded and smiled before leading his troop back to face the army of hungry guests about to descend.

  “I have never seen so much food. I did no
t know I would be taken literally.”

  “Nothing will go to waste. You can be assured the footmen who fetched the food for us will enjoy a tasty supper when they finish tonight.”

  Afterwards Rose could not recall what they spoke about. The food was delicious and she ate far more than was good for her. Eventually replete, she wiped her mouth on her napkin and smiled at him. “Even though we have both dined well, we have barely made inroads on what was given to us.”

  Perry came round to pull back her chair. He nodded at one of the footmen and they picked up the tables and vanished through a side door with them. The supper room was full making it impossible to converse without raising one’s voice over the noise of chatter and cutlery.

  “The ballroom will be quiet. Shall we stroll around there or would you rather sit?”

  “Walk, if you please. I am far too full to remain stationary. Look, there is Mama: she is beckoning me. Pray, excuse me. I must go and speak to her as she will be wondering where I have been all this while. I suppose I should not have come into supper with you unchaperoned.”

  He raised an eyebrow. “You are my future wife. I’m sure our breach of protocol will be forgiven. I shall leave you with your mother. I must try and find my friend and resume my attempt to persuade him to sell me his chestnuts. He is proving remarkably stubborn on this matter.”

  “Shall you be long?”

  He grinned down at her and she felt something strange flicker through her. “I sincerely hope not, sweetheart. I shall prevail in the end. Run along, my dear, and I shall come and find you after the supper interval.”

  A faint unease replaced the excitement. She was in a fair way to falling back in love with him but his tendency to treat her like a silly schoolgirl was beginning to be irksome. She would give the matter some thought. Somehow she must prove to him she was an adult. She wished to be treated with respect and not talked down to or patronised in any way.

  Her mother greeted her with effusion. “My dear girl, you are the talk of the evening. My word, I had no idea you were such a proficient dancer. Monsieur Duclos, the Frenchman I engaged to tutor you and your sister, was forever complaining of your clumsiness.” Her mother stared eagerly at the sumptuous buffet. “We must lay claim to a table before they are all gone.”

 

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