Only a Duchess Would Dare

by Amelia Grey

  “That will not be a problem, Blake,” Race said, looking completely at ease. “I’ll make sure Henrietta meets Susannah before the night is over.”

  “So it’s Susannah,” Morgan said, looking from Race to Susannah. “Race wasn’t sure what your given name was when I last spoke to him.”

  “That said, Duchess,” the duke said, “may Morgan and I be allowed to call you Susannah?”

  Susannah faced the handsome man who had no real friendliness in his tone. The duke knew that, out of respect to her title, they must call her Duchess or Your Grace unless she gave them permission to be so informal and use her Christian name. She had the feeling from both Race’s cousins that they would be quite comfortable calling her names that couldn’t be used in mixed company.

  That thought made her smile.

  Because she understood their reluctance to befriend her, she smiled sweetly at first the duke, and then she turned to the earl and said confidently, “You are both free to call me Susannah or anything else you might prefer, including that witch who wants my grandmother’s pearls.”

  Seeing the surprise on their faces, she looked at Race, and they both started laughing.

  Race cleared his throat to hide his chuckle. “Now, if you two don’t mind, I think it’s time Susannah and I had a glass of champagne.”

  Race and Susannah walked past a shocked earl and stunned duke.

  “You are a brave woman, Duchess, to take on my cousins as you just did,” Race said as they started down the three steps that led into the grand ballroom.

  “I have nothing to fear from them, my lord. Your cousins are predisposed to dislike me, and I understand that. But perhaps now they can at least be comfortable around me, knowing that they don’t have to pretend to approve of me, or perhaps I should say approve of the reason I am in London.”

  His eyes were sparkling with laughter when he said, “I’d say you made that quite clear. It’s the first time I’ve seen both of them totally speechless at the same time. That was worth a handful of gold coins and you gave it to me for free.”

  “Delighted to be of service,” she said as they melted into the mob of revelers in the ballroom.

  The first couple of hours at the Great Hall were a blur to Susannah as people were presented to her without a break in the steady flow. Everyone wanted to be able to say they had met the new duchess in Town. She became reacquainted with a couple of ladies she had known years ago, and several of the older women had inquired after her mother. Somehow in the crush of people she and Race had become separated, but every once in a while she would see him watching her from across the crowded room.

  If anyone even remotely remembered why she had left London and married the duke so suddenly, no one made mention of it, nor did she feel any hesitancy in the warm greeting she received from everyone she met, except for Race’s cousins.

  “There you are, Your Grace,” Mrs. Princeton said, walking up to Susannah with a tall, slender gentleman she had met a few minutes earlier. Lord Snellingly was a handsome man and easy to remember because not only was his neckcloth and collar so ridiculously high and tight he could hardly move his head, he carried a white lace handkerchief and painted porcelain snuff box in one hand.

  The man bowed and then said, “Your Grace, first let me say I have never seen beauty that compares to yours.”

  “Thank you, Lord Snellingly.”

  He sniffed and then smiled at her. “Your companion has just told me that you play the pianoforte.”

  “Yes,” Susannah answered, cutting her eyes around to Mrs. Princeton. The woman was positively beaming, and Susannah knew what that meant. Mrs. Princeton thought this man would make Susannah an excellent beau or husband. Even though she had warned Mrs. Princeton not to do any matchmaking, she guessed the woman couldn’t help herself.

  “I was hoping you might allow me to call on you tomorrow or perhaps another day that would be at your convenience, so that I might listen to you play.”

  “I’m flattered that you would want to, Lord Snellingly, but I really don’t play for anyone but myself, so that won’t be possible.”

  “Oh, but you don’t understand,” he said, stepping a little closer to her. “I write poetry. Perhaps you’ve read some of my published works?”

  Susannah shook her head and started thinking about how she was going to politely get away from this man.

  “No matter.” He paused and sniffed. “I’ll bring some of my best poems and read them to you. I know if I could sit and admire you while you play that I would be able to write the most inspiring poetry. I can feel it deep in my heart that I could create verse that would make all the ladies in London weep.”

  “Thank you, Lord Snellingly, but I really couldn’t do that.” She turned to her companion. Mrs. Princeton was obviously in awe of the man she thought to be a poet and thereby a perfect beau for Susannah, so she would leave Mrs. Princeton to talk to the man.

  “Lord Snellingly, Mrs. Princeton. You must excuse me. I see someone I need to speak to.” Susannah quickly turned away, not giving either of them the time to respond and delay her.

  To escape, she headed for the champagne table and was thrilled to see Race standing there, his back to her. As she approached, he turned around, holding two glasses. He smiled when he saw her and started toward her.

  “You are too popular this evening, Duchess,” he said, handing a glass to her. “It seems every time I ask you to dance, someone arrives and diverts our attention from dancing to conversations. And the next thing I know you are talking to someone like that fop Lord Snellingly.”

  “The poet?” she asked.

  “That is what he claims, but I’ve yet to hear of anyone agreeing with him on that account. I wouldn’t advise you to encourage him, unless you want him sending you poetry every day.”

  Susannah thought of the two unpretentious notes she had received from Race. One telling her he wanted to take her for a ride in the park and the other simply indicating he wanted to see her. Both notes had thrilled her immensely. She kept both of them in a secret part of her jewelry chest. She couldn’t count the times she had taken them out and read them. They always made her smile.

  “No worries there, my lord. I sensed as much from him and slipped away from him as soon as I could, but even with encounters like Lord Snellingly, I am enjoying myself much more than I thought I would.”

  He bent his head a little closer to hers and said, “Excuse me, but are you by chance admitting that you were wrong about something?”

  Her eyes rounded in mock horror. “Surely not. That would go against everything I believe in.”

  Race laughed and Susannah was amazed by how much she enjoyed just the simplest of conversations with him.

  “As soon as the music starts up again, Susannah, we are going to dance.”

  “Race, Duchess, there you are,” Sir Randolph said, walking up to them. “Morgan told me you were here, but there are so many blasted people in here it’s difficult to get around to finding anyone.”

  “I have certainly seen you, Sir Randolph,” Susannah said, smiling at the debonair man.

  His brown eyes twinkled, and his shoulders lifted. “You have?”

  “On the dance floor,” Susannah said. “I think you’ve been out there for most every dance.”

  Sir Randolph glanced eagerly at Race. “How do I look? Do I seem to be keeping up with the younger ones?”

  Race hesitated, so Susannah said, “Most definitely, Sir Randolph. You appear very fit and agile to me, dancing rings around the much younger gentlemen.”

  Gibby turned to her, obviously pleased by her comment. “Splendid. That’s what I wanted to hear.”

  “What are you trying to do, Gib?” Race said, looking puzzled. “I’ve never seen you dance so much.”

  “Never have. I don’t really care much for it. I do it only because it pleases the l
adies. Danger Jim said I should dance every night, every dance, to help build up my endurance and help me find my wind.”

  A deep wrinkle crowded the space between Race’s eyebrows. “Your wind? And who the… ” Race stopped himself as he threw a glance toward Susannah. She put her champagne glass to her lips to keep from smiling.

  Race exhaled deeply and asked, “Gib, who is Danger Jim?”

  “He’s the bruiser I hired to help me get ready for my fight. He says I have to keep working hard to find my ‘bottom.’”

  “I can help you with that,” Race said in an exasperated voice. “Why don’t you try looking at the seat of your breeches? You might find it there.”

  “Your humor amuses no one, Race,” Sir Randolph said with impatience. “Danger Jim said that a man’s ‘bottom’ is where he’ll find the depth of his wind, spirit, heart, and courage. Every pugilist has to find that before he will know what he’s made of.”

  “Every man needs to find that whether he ever throws a punch. You know, Gib, there’s a reason Lord Chesterfield said, ‘There’s a fool born every minute.’”

  “Nonsense, Race,” Susannah said while giving him a stern stare. “I’m certain that Lord Chesterfield said no such thing.”

  “Well, he should have, because it’s a lot truer than most of the blather he wrote to his son.”

  Susannah scoffed at Race and turned to the older man. “Pay him no heed, Sir Randolph. You don’t have to go looking for courage, heart, wind, or anything else. I can see you are brimming with all of them. Just have faith that when you need them most, they will be at your disposal.”

  “Thank you kindly, Duchess. Race likes to be cantankerous from time to time, so I know not to take what he says to heart.”

  “You give me reason to be ill-tempered, Gib,” Race muttered and then sipped his champagne.

  Even though the two men sparred with words, Susannah sensed they had deep respect for each other. There was no hostility, resentment, or jealousy in their tones. She understood Race’s concern about the pugilism match. She had never seen one, but she had read a few graphic accounts of the prize-fighting matches, including some of Lord Byron’s writings about them. It was not a sport for the fearful or faint-hearted.

  “Race, have you seen the posters that went up all over London this afternoon?”

  “No.” His eyes narrowed again. “What are you talking about?”

  “Posters announcing my duel in the park with Prattle.”

  “It’s not a duel, Gib. It’s just a fight.”

  “And I need to come up with a boxer’s name. You know all great pugilists have a fighting name.”

  “Gibby, you are not a boxer, but this is not the place to get into that again. Besides, I just heard someone announce that a dance is starting, and Susannah has promised me a dance.”

  “I wouldn’t talk to you about it anyway. I’m on my way home soon. I can’t stay up until the wee hours of the morning anymore. Danger Jim insists I get ten hours of sleep every night. It’s already two hours past the time he told me to be in bed.”

  “Excuse me, Lord Raceworth, Sir Randolph. Good evening to you both.”

  Susannah looked around to see a tall, tan-skinned man with ink-black hair flowing outrageously long, over his shoulders and down his back. His face was clean-shaven except for a very thin black mustache cresting his upper lip and connecting down to his chin, forming a chin-strap look. His features were sharp and his jaw line angular, giving him an aristocratic appearance.

  The man was extremely attractive in an eerie, exotic sort of way. Without being told, she knew this man was the infamous Captain Spyglass.

  He wore impeccable formal evening attire, but what made him stand out were the small gold loops he wore in each ear. On the middle finger of his left hand was a shockingly large pearl ring that was surrounded by rubies. Hanging below his intricately tied neckcloth was a Maltese cross fashioned with pearls. Perhaps what she had heard about his pearl obsession was true. The only other man Susannah had ever seen adorned with so many jewels was the king, the one time she had been presented to him.

  “Captain Spyglass,” both Race and Sir Randolph said with no friendliness in their voices.

  He looked at Susannah with appreciation in his eyes and bowed courteously.

  Susannah felt Race stiffen beside her. It was clear Race did not like this man and he did not want to have to introduce them, but after a long pause Race relented and made the proper introductions.

  Captain Spyglass kissed her hand and said, “Your Grace, as your humble servant, may I tell you how lovely you are tonight? That amethyst you are wearing is magnificent.”

  “Thank you,” Susannah said.

  Race moved closer to Susannah and said, “You must excuse us, but we were heading to the dance floor.”

  “But there is no music as of now,” he said with a smile.

  “There will be,” Race said, keeping a steady gaze on the man.

  The Captain nodded and said, “A moment before you go, please, my lord. I would very much like to visit you again to talk about the pearl necklace you have that I wish to purchase from you. Perhaps I could stop by tomorrow if you would tell me a time that would be convenient.”

  “There is no time. I’m not interested in discussing anything with you.”

  Susannah hadn’t expected Race to be so rude.

  The Captain smiled again and bowed. “Pardon me for disturbing you, my lord. Duchess, Sir Randolph,” Captain Spyglass said and turned and walked away.

  “I don’t trust that man,” Sir Randolph said.

  “Susannah aptly called him a pirate.”

  “I agree with her on that,” Sir Randolph said.

  “But looking at him, I can see why he is on everyone’s guest list,” Susannah said. “He’s quite an impressive man.”

  Race cocked his head and stared at her. “Impressive, Susannah? And I suppose you also think Lord Snellingly is a handsome man?”

  “As a matter of fact, I do think he is quite handsome.”

  “Which reminds me,” Sir Randolph said, “I need to come up with a fighting name.”

  “You have one,” Race said irritably. “It’s Gibby, or Gib if you prefer.”

  “No, I mean for my fight. I need a name like the Iron Man, the Widow Maker, or the Heavy Hammer. A really good prize-fighter needs a name.”

  “Oh, I know, how about Gib the Pipit?” Susannah said hopefully.

  Sir Randolph frowned. “Is a pipit a bird?” Gib asked.

  “Yes,” she answered. “A small, beautiful bird that resembles a lark.”

  “Thank you kindly, Your Grace, but I was thinking of something stronger than a bird.”

  “Then how about Jack-a-lent, Jackanapes, or maybe just the Jackal?” Race asked him.

  Sir Randolph threw his shoulders back and puffed out his chest. “If you were using all the Jack names, why did you leave out Jackass? Don’t tell me you were trying to spare my feelings?”

  “All right, I won’t.”

  Susannah marveled at how easily the two men sparred words with each other yet she neither heard nor sensed true anger in either man.

  “I know something that will work,” Susannah said, stepping in between the two sparring friends. “How about Gib the Gray Wolf or Gib the Growling Bear? Those are stronger.”

  Sir Randolph gave her a placating smile. “Something close to that is what I’m looking for. You keep working on it, Duchess.” He turned to Race and grinned. “The fight is on.”

  Susannah sighed as the gray-haired man walked away. “I don’t think he liked my suggestions any better than he liked yours.”

  Race chuckled. “Too bad. I thought Gib the Pipit sounded just like Gibby.” He paused. “Is that music I hear?”

  She handed him her glass. “Indeed it is.”

  Race p
laced the glasses on the table and said, “Let’s head for the dance floor.”

  They turned to leave, and Susannah saw the Duke of Blakewell coming toward them with a beautiful blonde lady walking beside him.

  “I think the dance will have to wait a little longer,” Race muttered under his breath. “You are about to meet Blake’s wife, Henrietta.”

  “Good,” she said. “I’ve wanted to meet her. This will be my opportunity to make amends.”

  With the ease that comes only from the peerage, the introductions of a duchess meeting a duchess were dispensed with quickly, and Susannah found herself looking into the friendly eyes of a young lady perhaps ten years younger than she. Unlike the wariness she saw in Race’s two cousins’ eyes, the Duchess of Blakewell’s demeanor was friendly and sincere. Susannah liked her immediately.

  “Before we go further, Your Grace,” she told the younger lady, “I must apologize again for being unable to have tea with you. It was gracious of you to ask.”

  The duchess smiled at her. “My heavens, no need to apologize again. I understood perfectly that the timing wasn’t good for you. I know I was rushing you, but I was so happy to hear that another duchess was in Town, and one more my age, that I let my eagerness to meet you overshadow my good judgment. I’m the one who must apologize for not giving you more time to get settled before contacting you.”

  “Perhaps we can arrange another afternoon soon,” Susannah offered.

  “I would like that. I was about to go to the retiring room. Would you like to join me?”

  Susannah turned toward Race. He gave her a slight nod of approval. Their hope for a dance had been thwarted once again.

  “All right,” Susannah said to the lovely duchess. “Lead the way, and I will follow.”

  As the two ladies walked away, the Duchess of Blakewell said, “Your outing in the park with Race is the talk of London’s drawing rooms right now. I think perhaps I should give a dinner party in your honor and invite a few people over so they can get to know you better.”

  Susannah’s stomach tightened. “Please don’t do that, Your Grace. I don’t think that would be a wise idea right now. I don’t know how long I will be here.”