by Jenn LeBlanc
Perry stared at his brother, agog.
“Come now, Perry, did you expect me to return to my awful manner so quickly?”
“I really hadn’t considered it.” Perry shifted in his chair and glanced at the paper. “Dashing Duke, heh? Where are they getting this? Why am I not mentioned? Dashing… I’m the younger, handsomer brother. Dastardly Duke would be more like it, or perhaps Asinine, Arrogant Aristocrat? Hmm, mayhap I should write for Miss Witwick, Your Devastatingly Dashing Dukeness.”
Shaw choked on his tea, trying not to laugh as Gideon gave his brother the familiar warning glare.
“There he is! The Dastardly Duke returns,” Perry said with a grin.
“Shaw,” Gideon said, ignoring his brother, “are you prepared to return to Eildon and transform the place into the masterpiece we all know it will be?”
“Yes, of course, Your Gr— Roxleigh,” he finished after Gideon cut him the same warning glance. “I have arranged for all the shipments: fabric, furniture, wood, and other appointments. They are now scheduled to arrive about the same time we will. We have only a month left before the gathering, which has recently become a wedding celebration. Mrs. Weston has assured me that there are enough locals to complete the work, and anything else we may need should be simple to obtain.”
Gideon nodded. “Is the current work on schedule?”
“Yes, I received an update less than a sennight ago.”
“That’s good. I must apologize, though—I wasn’t expecting to return to Eildon so precipitously. I expected that we would be attending a few more social events before returning home. We didn’t get far in our quest with the lovely Lady Alice.”
“Actually, I wasn’t expecting to see her until midsummer, so the fact that I have, and that I was able to spend a wonderful evening attempting to be in her company, was certainly worth the effort and the journey.”
Gideon smiled. “Perry, are you ready to move to Westcreek?”
“In truth, Rox, I do not believe I am. In fact, I was hoping to impose on you a bit. Westcreek hasn’t been inhabited for some time, and since the most talented architect in London is otherwise occupied by the Distinguished Duke of Dashingness, I won’t be able to make any changes for at least two months.”
Gideon looked at him with a grin. “Not going to drop it, are you?”
“Not a chance, your Deliberately Debonair Dukeness,” Perry answered as Shaw covered his face with one hand to hide a smile.
“Don’t encourage him, Shaw,” Gideon grunted as he turned again to his brother. “Your intention isn’t to saddle me with your charges, is it? Have you rethought your agreement so soon?”
Perry waved him off. “I rethought my agreement with the Intrepid In-laws the moment I offered it, and every five minutes thereafter. I assume that the life of the Valorous Viscount is to change greatly, for better or worse, but I won’t be the sacrificial lamb for your happiness. That, dear brother, was your job, and though you have vacated the position, I am not keen on acquiring it.”
Gideon glared. “No, I wouldn’t wish that on you, Your Valiant Viscountness. Of course, the sisters can come with us, as can you, at any time. I’ll speak with Francine, but I don’t believe she’ll mind. I suppose she wants to get to know them, and we have had a bit of fun recently, haven’t we? However, I must insist the alliterations come to an end.”
“If you insist,” Perry said with a deliberate frown.
Shaw laughed. “So, the Boorish Blue Blood becomes the Dashing Duke,” he said quietly, drawing surprised laughter from the brothers.
“Well done,” Perry said, clapping Shaw on the back as Gideon smiled inwardly behind his scowl.
Francine went to the parlor that afternoon to look over the guest lists and menus for the upcoming ball. She wasn’t at all prepared to plan such a lavish evening, but she had insisted, wanting a project, and since Gideon had given her all the information she needed, she was determined to shine.
When the sisters came in, followed by Miss Faversham, she was happy for the reprieve.
“I thought you might like some help with the preparations,” Miss Faversham said.
“Oh yes, I would definitely like some help.” The ladies sat in the parlor, planning the ball and dinner all that afternoon. The sisters were actually quite adept at making arrangements; she guessed that was part of their education. By the time supper rolled around, they had the majority of the plans complete and the guest list finalized, and the ladies all went to dress for the formal supper that Gideon had arranged in the dining room.
Gideon, Perry, and Shaw gathered in the study before dinner while Francine, Amélie, Maryse, and Miss Faversham gathered in the blue parlor. Sanders knocked and opened the door. “The Dowager Countess of Greensborough and Lady Alice Gracin,” he announced.
Francine stood and greeted them, her arms outstretched. “My lady, how wonderful it is to see you again, Lady Alice, how have you been?” She hugged her, kissing her cheeks.
“Very well, Lady Francine, and you? I am certain the gossip pages are greatly embellishing your tale, but I imagine it was harrowing none the less,” Lady Alice said.
Francine led the women further into the room and motioned for them to sit. “Well, yes, it was quite an adventure. Miss Witwick actually did a good job with the report. Though I’ve no idea where she got her information.”
“I was very interested to receive your invitation, Lady Francine. To what do we owe this honor?” the dowager said.
Francine smiled. “Well, I believe we have a common goal. Gide—uh, His Grace recently told me of a project that he and Trumbull have championed. I believe you are both acquainted with a Mr. Amberly Shaw?” Francine didn’t think it possible, but Lady Alice’s expression grew even brighter—so bright, in fact, that Francine flinched.
Sanders knocked at the door again. “Supper is served,” he said, then turned and waited for the ladies to follow. They filed out of the parlor in order of rank as the gentlemen walked out of the study laughing.
Gideon saw them and stopped with a conspiratorial grin. “Well, Perry, it looks as though our Lady Alice has yet another champion.” He glanced at the brandy Perry had refused to relinquish to the sideboard.
Perry looked up as Shaw leaned around the two men. Shaw caught sight of Lady Alice and his mouth went dry.
Francine ran over to Gideon, launching herself at him and pulling herself up on his broad shoulders to plant a kiss on his cheek.
“Why stop there, my lady?” he whispered as he caught her to his chest. “You have already moved in such an untoward fashion,” he said with a grin.
He laughed, losing himself in her eyes until Perry elbowed him gently. Everyone had stopped, uncomfortably bearing witness to the quiet conversation.
He cleared his throat and straightened his jacket. “I beg your pardon. All the excitement of the past week seems to have altered our sensibilities.”
The dowager countess looked at Gideon with a smile. “Well, thank God for that.”
Perry choked on his brandy and Gideon smacked him hard between the shoulder blades.
Perry turned to Shaw. “The dowager countess is wonderful, don’t you think?”
Shaw was staring intently at Lady Alice. He smiled and glanced at Perry out of the corner of his eye. “What?”
“The dowager,” Perry repeated.
Shaw looked at him, confused, then slowly realized what he had missed. “Oh right, the dowager… I…yes?” he offered, unsure of the correct response.
Perry laughed. “Preoccupied with something, Shaw?”
A moment passed.
“Sha-aw?” Perry sing-songed, trying to catch his attention.
“My lor— I… er, no?” he tried to answer, but Perry was already shaking his head and moving toward the women to greet them.
Relying on what she could remember from her book of manners, Francine arranged the guests in order of rank. Gideon nodded and moved to enter the dining hall, only to have the dowager stop the parade
and rearrange everyone to her liking. She sat at Gideon’s left with Lady Alice next to her. Perry sat next to Francine, at Gideon’s right, with Miss Faversham and the sisters next to him, leaving Shaw next to Lady Alice.
Gideon gave an approving nod to the dowager.
“We are among friends here,” she said smartly, “and we seem to have nudged propriety for the evening. Let us not get too carried away, but you will have posted your banns by week-out.”
Gideon nodded to the footmen, who began placing plate after plate of delicacies in front of the guests.
Francine cleared her throat. “Now, you must all tell us what you think, as I believe many of these dishes will end up on the menu at the ball.”
Gideon sat back in his chair. “Actually, I have a surprise. Chef had need of another run to France for wine and truffles—you know how very particular she can be. She will be in London within two days and she will be preparing the dinner.”
Francine’s eyes lit up. “Really?”
“Mmm, yes, really,” he answered happily, using her words and swallowing a sip of wine.
Francine turned to the countess. “Just wait,” she said excitedly, “the food Chef makes, oh— It’s divine. I’ve never had anything like it. Your Grace?”
He guessed her thoughts and smiled. “Yes she traveled to Angers, and will be bringing home a large selection of pears.”
Francine clapped her hands together and jumped from her seat, grabbing Gideon around the neck and planting a big kiss right on his mouth. “Oh, you remembered! You wonderful, wonderful man! You are so good to me.” The entire room was silenced and she looked around penitently giggling happily.
He unhooked her arms, shaking his head. “Perhaps I should have waited until later to tell you of these plans,” he said with a great smile.
The dowager laughed gently. “No, no, Your Grace, I believe we are all the better for this display. I wouldn’t have had it any other way. Please, what else can you inform your betrothed of?”
“I beg your pardon, my lady,” Francine said, “it’s just that Chef makes the most wonderful dessert—with pears and brandy, is it? Or maybe it’s wine, I don’t know. It’s so amazing. Oh, Your Grace, I can’t believe you. How did you arrange this?”
“I have my ways.”
Francine smiled and sat back in her chair.
“I guess we don’t need to discuss the dinner in depth.” She sighed. She had tried so hard to be a proper hostess that night and so far had been thwarted on all counts by good news. She smiled to herself, looking at her hands folded in her lap.
Gideon reached over and squeezed them, and her smile broadened.
Lady Alice didn’t notice the performance one bit. Her eyes were trained on Mr. Shaw, as were his on her.
The sisters watched the others with curiosity—the lovers, the smitten, and the newly introduced—intently learning the behaviors and intimations only two intangibly connected people could share.
The Dowager Countess of Greensborough sat back as the sisters giggled and gossiped and she watched with the knowledge only a lifetime could bring. She loved the expressions of wonder, excitement, and love because nothing was new to her anymore. She had lived and loved and lost. Now her only hope was to capture some of the excitement from her young friends. She wanted to see her granddaughter fall deeply, helplessly, and irrevocably in love. She wanted to see the new babies born and raised. She observed from a visage lined with all that laughter, love, and loss as the sisters examined the same couples from the other end of a lifetime.
Mr. Shaw sat stiffly next to Lady Alice. He tried desperately not to draw attention to the fact that he was beyond smitten with the dowager countess’ granddaughter. The dowager smiled as Alice teased and Shaw blushed, looking around to see who had noticed. He was such a gentleman, even though he wasn’t of the gentry, and the thought saddened her. Curse Society, she thought, turning away in annoyance. She saw Roxleigh and Lady Francine conversing with the same jovial banter, their teasing colored with the undertones of an intimate couple. The countess blushed, remembering her husband, how it had felt to know what he wanted. How desperately she missed his warm touch.
She looked across the table at Trumbull, who spoke with Miss Faversham about his wards. She could see that Miss Faversham would be in for a difficult time with that one. It was obvious he was still intent on his rakish behavior, but that he had no idea he was currently unleashing his powers on her, and quite to her disadvantage. She smiled again, thinking that there were very few women in London, probably in all of England, who would match him and tame his roguish behavior—certainly nobody in this year’s crop of innocents, or the next few that she could bring to mind. That man would be a chore, but then, her beloved husband had been the same.
She looked back to Lady Francine and Roxleigh and her brow creased. She had always thought that Roxleigh would be the difficult one. She smiled as they glanced up at her.
“Is everything to your liking, my lady?” Gideon asked.
“Why, yes, Your Grace.”
“I beg you, call me Roxleigh,” he said with a smile.
“Of course, Roxleigh. How soon after the ball will you be leaving for Eildon?”
“Very soon after,” Francine said. “You will visit us there, yes?”
“As you see fit. I shall accompany Lady Alice to the house party. His Grace, hmm, Roxleigh has already graciously invited us to stay.”
“Lady Alice,” Francine started as she looked down the table, then cleared her throat to gain the attention of the young lady with the vibrant red hair. “Lady Alice?” she said again, questioningly.
Lady Alice looked up, startled. “Yes, my lady? I do beg your pardon. Mr. Shaw was telling me of the work at the manor,” she said with a timid smile.
“Well, I certainly wouldn’t want to interrupt. Please carry on,” Francine said happily. She glanced at the dowager countess, who mirrored her pleasure at the couple’s interaction. “Well, I would like to thank everyone for coming tonight. I look forward to seeing you all at the ball, then back at Eildon.”
Francine hoped Shaw and Lady Alice would have an easier go of it than she and Gideon had. Her eyebrows knit together. No, she wouldn’t have changed anything that had happened, not for the world. If one small thing had gone differently she may not be sitting here now, with this great company, at the right hand of her duke.
Mrs. Weston ran out to greet the approaching carriages. She loved Francine dearly, this girl who had happened into their lives and changed them all for the better. She could hardly wait to get a good look at her, just to be sure she was all right.
“Oh, my lady,” she gasped as Francine descended the carriage on the hand of Gideon. Mrs. Weston pushed the duke aside hastily and reached her arms out to hold her.
Francine smiled and sank into her welcoming arms.
“Oh, Lady Francine, is it true then? You are well?”
Francine gave her the warmest possible smile. “Yes, Mrs. Weston, I am,” she said in a bright, clear voice.
Mrs. Weston hugged Francine again and laughed as Gideon stood and watched, grinning. Mrs. Weston turned to him. “You have done well, Your Grace,” she said boldly.
Perry’s carriage pulled up behind them as all the servants started shuffling outside to welcome them home and see to their effects.
Mrs. Weston backed away from them with a curtsey. Francine could see her eyes misting with emotion and she leaned into Gideon, looking up at him. He looked more peaceful than she had ever seen him. She rested one hand on his chest, feeling his breath moving, his heartbeat steady and strong. She closed her eyes and sighed as he placed one of his large, warm hands over her small one.
Francine glanced at the manor in time to see Meggie walk from the entry, followed by a smaller girl. She walked over to the maid, taking her hands. “Meggie, it’s so good to see you again,” she said before she turned to the other girl. “You must be Lilly.”
The smaller girl nodded with a smile and a cu
rtsey.
“I’m so glad you are better and I’m glad you’ve come to Eildon. If there’s anything you need, please don’t hesitate to let me know,” Francine said.
Lilly blushed wildly, looking at the ground as the girls curtseyed.
Gideon walked up behind Francine and whispered in her ear. “You are the most wonderful woman in the world, but Lilly is not accustomed to this sort of behavior. You might want to let her get used to you before suggesting such bold things,” he said quietly.
Francine examined the girl. She could see tiny crisscrossing scars covering her skin, and she unconsciously touched her own wrists where Hepplewort had injured her. She turned to Gideon; there was nothing she could do, nothing she could say, to change what had happened.
He saw Francine’s silent panic and Lilly’s discomfiture and he swept Francine into his arms, carrying her across the threshold. The movement made Francine’s head snap back and she laughed.
“Oh, Your Grace, we aren’t married yet!”
“Where my actions are concerned, we are.” he whispered in her ear. “This is your home, you are my duchess, and from what I understand, your room is ready.” He carried her up the grand staircase and to the right—away from her room.
She reached out, looking behind him. Her brow creased. He opened the panel to the passageway behind his suites and carefully squeezed through without letting her go. Then he walked down the passage to the entry on his left.
He stood her before him and smiled at her confused expression.
“You said my room is ready. Why are we here?”
“This room belongs to the duchess.That would be you, my sweet,” he whispered.
Her eyes grew wide and she turned slowly, looking around. She grasped his hand and they moved across the threshold.
The walls were paneled with a light-colored wood, brightening the entire room. They walked past the pale silk panels, which had been re-hung, toward the far wall where the bath sat. It was big enough for two and then some, the edge wide enough to sit comfortably. It had been cleaned meticulously, the white tiles brightened and showcasing the hand painted flowers, the brass hardware polished to a mirror finish. It was surrounded by more of the flowing silk panels, creating an ethereal, semi-private feeling.