The Duke's Daughter

by Sasha Cottman

  Avery was about to correct the dowager and remind her that he was indeed a country clod, but something in her look stopped him. After their first misstep, Lady Alice had made every undertaking to make Avery feel welcome in his new home. In the dowager, he sensed a kindred spirit. She was warm, but there was a definite strength about her which he admired.

  ‘Sound advice,’ he replied.

  Coming from a life of living rough and scrounging for the next meal, the change in his circumstances since Waterloo still left him scratching his head. Never in his wildest dreams would he have ever imagined living in a place like Langham House, or dancing with such a beauty as Lucy Radley.

  ‘Place your hand in the small of my back,’ Lucy instructed once more.

  Avery nodded.

  At the first twirl, he stepped clumsily on the edge of Lucy’s skirt. A curse was halfway to his lips when she shifted slightly to the left and he regained his foothold. The warm smile she wore did not falter.

  You really are a skilled dancer.

  ‘Keep going,’ she whispered.

  He saw her make a sideways glance in the direction of her cousin Eve as they passed the piano. He gripped Lucy’s right hand and swung her into a strong, confident turn.

  ‘Better!’ Lady Alice cried.

  Lucy’s blue eyes sparkled with delight. Since their discussion in the library he had surmised that Lucy had been chosen to assist him in the ways of the ton. If it were true and she found him a burden, she hid it well. For his own part, being this close to her was a pleasurable torture.

  If only you were not a duke’s daughter and I were not a man without honour. What a pair we could make.

  He pushed the impossible thought away. They were who they were and no number of dance lessons could change that fact.

  ‘Excellent progress, Mr Fox. But for our few remaining lessons, I suggest we stick to the quadrille. It’s better to be a master of one dance than an apprentice of them all,’ she said.

  He frowned. Was she cutting him off from her assistance?

  ‘Only a few more?’ he replied.

  ‘Yes, my family are leaving London for our estate in Scotland at the end of next week; the season is nearly over. My younger brother Stephen will be arriving from Eton tomorrow to accompany us. We won’t be back in town for months.’

  The peculiarities of upper-class society still escaped Avery. Why would people leave their perfectly comfortable homes in London to venture all the way to a chilly, windswept castle in Scotland? After winters spent in the mountains of Portugal and Spain, snow was the last thing he ever wished to see again.

  Fortunately Lord Langham’s estate was in the mild climes of Norfolk. He was more than grateful for that blessing.

  As the music stopped and Lucy took a seat next to Eve at the piano, Lady Alice held out her hand to him.

  ‘Come, take me for a turn about the room, Avery,’ she commanded, snapping her fingers at him.

  He assisted her from her chair and as she stood the dowager countess slipped her arm in his.

  ‘In the event you don’t want to dance with a lady, but still wish to speak with her, this is what you do,’ she said.

  Avery considered the whole idea to be utter nonsense. Walking slowly around the drawing room in endless loops was ridiculous, to say the least.

  ‘Of course, at a ball you will have much more room to move, but you get the general idea. It allows you to be in a lady’s company without the need for her chaperone to follow closely on your heels,’ Lucy added.

  Lady Alice laughed. ‘Well, yes; there is that, but I’ve always found it’s the best way to catch up on all the latest gossip. If you come home from a party or ball without at least two good titbits of scandalous news you should count your evening a failure.’

  Avery chuckled. Lady Alice was a gem of the highest value. For a woman of her social rank, she spoke her mind unexpectedly plainly.

  ‘And what am I to do with these pieces of gossip once I am in possession of them?’ Avery asked.

  A slow smile crept to Lady Alice’s lips as she leaned in and whispered.

  ‘Why, you come and share them with me, young man. Rumour is the currency of the ton; it can buy you all sorts of things.’

  Avery stood in his room and stared at the pocket watch he held in his hand. For two days he had managed to resist the temptation to take it out and examine it. It was the longest he had gone without looking at the watch since it had come into his possession. As soon as Lucy and Eve had left Langham House, he retreated to his room.

  He couldn’t remember taking the watch out of his travel bag, but there it was once more in the palm of his hand.

  This is why you could never marry someone like Lucy. What sort of a husband would you make for her? She certainly deserves better.

  Now he was based in London, the prospect of selling the watch and being forever rid of it was a viable option. One he knew he should seriously consider.

  He threw the pocket watch on the bed. After slipping his white cotton gloves off, he picked it back up with his damaged left hand. His ownership of the watch had cost him the full use of his hand.

  And his honour.

  As long as Lucy was prepared to tolerate him and teach him the ways of gentlemen he would continue with their lessons. He would simply have to overcome his growing attraction to her. Fair-haired Lucy Radley was a girl possessed of special delight.

  The twinge of love had never pulled on his heartstrings, but every time he looked at Lucy he felt his throat constrict. She had an effect on him that he didn’t understand. The sparkle in her eye whenever she was close made him feel odd within himself.

  At night as he drifted off to sleep, the image of her made his body harden with sexual need.

  He puffed out his cheeks. With luck, there would be some Scottish lord just waiting for her to return to Strathmore Castle, where he would claim her heart. After that Lucy Radley would forever be out of the reach of Avery Fox.

  CHAPTER SEVEN

  Lucy’s fears regarding Avery’s fate at the hands of the unwed misses of the haute ton grew daily.

  If Avery had remained in mourning for Thaxter, he would not be gadding about London each day. Nor for that matter would he be at Viscountess Owen’s late-season ball. Unfortunately, he had abandoned all pretence of mourning his long-lost brother and was one of the first people Lucy saw when she arrived with her parents at the Owens’ grand home in Duke Street.

  ‘Curses,’ she muttered under her breath. She regretted her decision to wear one of her simpler white gowns. She would blend easily into the milling crowd, and would be lucky if Avery even managed to spot her.

  The problem wasn’t so much that Avery was in attendance, it was the impact his presence was having on the other women which immediately put Lucy into a state of unexpected panic.

  While he was home at Langham House he was all but exclusively hers. Eve had conveniently taken on the role of musician each time, negating the need for Avery to request her hand to dance.

  Here, at a large social gathering, it was open season on one of the most eligible bachelors in all of London.

  Matchmaking mothers had somehow overcome their prejudices regarding his origins and the quirk of his northern accent and were milling around him. Their charming daughters in tow.

  Lucy gazed around the room and could see small clusters of mothers and daughters all eyeing Avery off from a distance. All waiting for the right opportunity to make his acquaintance. It was like one of those African wildlife scenes she had read about in books: lionesses ready to pounce on a poor unsuspecting gazelle.

  She would be lucky if she got within ten feet of him this evening.

  ‘I see Mr Fox has established himself as the popular bachelor of the evening,’ Lady Caroline noted.

  Lucy moved slowly to one side of the ballroom, reluctantly following her mother. When she saw another young lady pull out her dance card and offer it to Avery she stopped. Her jaw dropped, leaving her mouth agape. Her
plans were beginning to unravel and slip from her control.

  ‘Lucy, darling, are you coming with me or not?’ her mother asked.

  She waved her mother away. ‘I’ve seen a friend and I must say hello. I shall find you later.’

  The duchess gave the merest nod of her head before continuing on her way.

  Lucy slowly skirted around the edge of the ballroom, glancing in Avery’s direction every now and then. By the time she reached the other side of the room, she was able to hear the lively conversation going on between the future Lord Langham and a gaggle of desperate young ladies.

  ‘Oh please, Mr Fox, I am sure you are only being modest,’ a girl with a dance card pleaded. Avery, to his credit, held his ground.

  ‘Miss Hawkins, I assure you I cannot dance the waltz. You would be lucky to make it from the dance floor with all your toes intact if I agreed to sign your card. Perhaps another time when I am able to do your request justice,’ he replied.

  A passing footman offered Lucy a glass of champagne, which she took. She sipped the soft, enticing bubbles while continuing to watch the cluster of girls all clamouring to catch Avery’s attention.

  ‘Pathetic,’ she muttered into her glass.

  At that moment one of the pressing mothers hit upon the clever idea of Mr Fox taking her daughter for a slow walk around the room. He might not be willing to dance, but no gentleman would refuse a young lady a turn about the ballroom.

  Lucy gritted her teeth. It was going to be a long night.

  As soon as Avery took hold of the arm of the rather eager Miss Hawkins, Lucy knew she had to act. The confident way he moved showed he had learned his lessons from Lady Alice well. She turned on her heel and made for a spot a little further across the room. If she had correctly anticipated the direction in which Avery and his lady friend were headed, they would most certainly pass right by where she stood.

  She stopped on the edge of a group of guests, some of whom were known to her. She made hasty greetings before turning side-on to them.

  Anyone headed toward the group would think she was with them, not standing on her own. As Avery and Miss Hawkins drew near, Lucy heard their stilted conversation.

  ‘No, I don’t know the viscount personally; Lord Langham secured me an invitation. No, I assure you I didn’t go up to Eton the same year as your brother,’ he said.

  Lucy’s mood lifted immediately. It was clear Miss Hawkins was trying to find areas of common interest with Avery and failing badly. She prayed that Miss Hawkins didn’t suddenly display a previously undisclosed knowledge of the Portuguese language. Or worse still, a brother who had served somewhere in the war. That was one front in which she knew she could not do battle.

  ‘Lady Lucy, what a pleasant surprise,’ Avery said.

  She looked up from her champagne glass with the perfect degree of surprise on her face, then counted for a long second before allowing her recognition of him to register on her face.

  ‘Mr Fox, how wonderful to see you this evening. I did not know you were here. Have you just arrived?’ she replied.

  The thousand-dagger look Miss Hawkins launched Lucy’s way failed to reach its target. Lucy ignored her.

  ‘Did you come with the rest of the Langham family? Are my brother and his wife here with you?’ she added. It didn’t hurt to mention her existing personal connection to him.

  ‘No; David and Lady Clarice decided to spend the evening at home. Lord Langham and Lady Alice graciously allowed me to accompany them,’ he replied.

  She should by rights have let them continue on their promenade at this point, but Lucy was in no philanthropic mood. She was not going to give an inch to these shameless husband-hunters.

  ‘Are you going to introduce us?’ Miss Hawkins ground out.

  Avery and Lucy shared a mischievous grin. Her eyes grew wide at the sudden realisation that Avery knew he was being bad. He should have made the correct introductions, but had deliberately not done so.

  She smiled serenely at Miss Hawkins.

  ‘Lady Lucy Radley, daughter of the Duke of Strathmore. How do you do?’ she said and thrust out her hand.

  At any other time she would have felt terrible at her own behaviour; disgusted, in fact. Playing the ducal trump card was beneath her. If her mother found out what she had done, Lucy would be in for a very long lecture about her place in society and how one should behave. But at this moment she simply didn’t care.

  The stakes were rapidly rising.

  Miss Hawkins blushed furiously and, letting go of Avery’s arm, sank quickly into a deep curtsey. Over her head Avery and Lucy looked at one another. Lucy shook her head and silently mouthed, ‘Sorry.’

  Avery nodded. They had both gone too far. Taking Miss Hawkins’ arm once more, he bade Lucy farewell and continued circling the floor.

  Lucy retreated to a less conspicuous place in the room and took a seat. From her vantage point, she spent the next hour watching as Avery escorted young miss after hopeful young miss around the floor.

  ‘Don’t tell me you have given up the fight already? Shame on you if you have, young lady.’

  She turned to see Lady Alice standing before her. The dowager countess raised her walking stick and pointed it at Lucy. ‘Well?’

  ‘I’m resting my feet,’ she replied.

  ‘Odd, because from where I was standing I could swear you were spying on our Mr Fox,’ she replied.

  Lucy’s mouth opened in a small ‘o’. How foolish had she been to expect Lady Alice to swallow that feeble story?

  Lady Alice took the seat next to Lucy.

  ‘Are you afraid that someone else may steal your protégé? One piece of advice, my dear girl. Be careful. If you have been watching him as he has walked around the room with all those grasping hopefuls you would know he is decidedly uncomfortable with the whole business.’

  She met Lady Alice’s gaze, grateful for her implicit support.

  ‘What do you suggest?’ she asked.

  Lady Alice turned and fixed her gaze once more on Avery. She nodded silently to herself.

  ‘Continue to be his friend. With all these hungry women circling him, I expect Mr Fox is feeling more like Mr Mouse. Trust me, if he doesn’t see you as a threat to his bachelorhood, you may stand the best chance of snapping him up. From what I have seen of the two of you, I think you would make a fine pair. He may just need to be convinced of that fact.’

  Lucy considered the sage words of advice. Lady Alice had been the key to David and Clarice finally coming together and marrying. She had stood up to Lord Langham over his initial reluctance to allow Clarice to marry the illegitimate David.

  ‘From what I have come to know of Avery, he is a good man. But don’t forget he is an outsider in our world. Up to now you have been the perfect friend to help guide him through the dangerous shoals of the ton. You have been exactly what he needs. Now that he has learned to trust you, he may reveal more of himself to you. Once you get to know him better, then perhaps you will know if he is truly what you seek in a husband.’

  Lady Alice took Lucy by the hand.

  ‘But whatever you do, my dear girl, don’t throw yourself at him. Avery is still wary of us. You will lose him for sure if you do.’

  Sitting and watching as Lady Alice made her way back through the crowd, stopping to greet friends, Lucy pondered the dowager’s words.

  ‘She’s right,’ she whispered.

  Lucy was grateful for Lady Alice’s advice. For the first time in her life she had felt unable to confide in her mother. Several times, she had come close to broaching the subject of Avery with Lady Caroline, but something had held her back. Perhaps it was the worry that her mother would try to help move the relationship along.

  One thing she knew for certain, her plan to be nothing more than friends with Avery had been doomed from the outset. She couldn’t look at him without her stomach becoming full of butterflies. Nor was she immune to the odd sensation which rippled through her body whenever he took her into his arms
for a waltz.

  The tentative friendship that they shared was at least a start. Something she could build upon. Where things led to from there, only time would tell. In this, the most important endeavour of her life, Lucy knew she had to follow her own path.

  While the other girls would openly flaunt themselves in front of Avery, batting their pretty eyelashes at him and making come-hither faces, she would take a strategic step back. She would continue to be the female friend he could turn to for guidance. For safety in a stormy sea.

  It all made sense.

  Except.

  What happened if he fell in love with one of the other girls? What if while Lucy was playing the role of the cool, almost disinterested, friend she lost him? What if while she was many miles away in Scotland, someone else snapped him up?

  She puffed out her cheeks before letting the air whoosh out.

  Why did it all have to be so difficult? Why couldn’t she just sidle up to Avery, tell him she thought he was rather dashing and have him immediately sweep her off her feet to the nearest church?

  Across the room, yet another of the unmarried misses was rounding on Avery, the girl’s mother and married sister following closely behind. Lucy knew this young lady possessed both beauty and a substantial dowry. Unlike most of the other young ladies, she posed a real threat to Lucy’s plans.

  A twitch began to flicker in the corner of Lucy’s right eye.

  It took all of her self-control not to march across to her future intended and make her plans clear to all and sundry. If she had been in possession of a flag, she would have planted it in the floor right next to Avery and claimed him as her sovereign territory.

  She winced. Jealousy was a strange emotion. She now understood the feisty look Millie gave to each and every woman not a member of Alex’s family when they came within five feet of her husband. What she had previously thought were petty displays of temper, she now understood were firm demonstrations of ownership.

  Lady Alice’s words drifted back into her mind. ‘Be his friend.’