The Blackmailed Beauty

by Ilene Withers

  As the old man walked away, Noel asked him, “What is the weather like today?”

  “It promises to be a lovely day, Your Grace. Quite fine for a drive in the park.”

  ****

  Claire and Willa were dining alone when the butler entered with a card proffered on a silver tray. He held it out to Willa who took it and opened it.

  “We have been invited to go for a drive in the park,” she announced cheerfully.

  “By whom?” Claire asked her.

  “Duke Lamberton and Lord Roydon. Shall we accept?”

  Claire did not feel she could afford to do otherwise and was rather delighted at the prospect. She tried to act casually in front of her cousin, however. Willa had mistaken the duke’s attraction, she felt sure, and she did not want to encourage her teasing. “We may as well,” she said with an affected bored tone. “There is little else on our calendars for the day.”

  Later, however, in the privacy of her room Claire did not feel quite so lackadaisical about the invitation. Rather she was in a dither over which dress to don. Finally, she asked Molly for a suggestion.

  “This new muslin is quite nice, Miss.” She held out the dress, patterned with green leaves. “You could wear this with it,” the maid suggested, indicating a pretty straw bonnet trimmed with a wide green ribbon and a tiny, feathered bird perched on the brim. So Claire was dressed quite seasonally when she went down the stairs with Willa to meet the gentlemen. Her cousin was wearing the bonnet she had first seen in London— with the cherries and green ribbon— with her gown embroidered with the fruit.

  The two men seemed so appreciative of their efforts that Claire did not mind when the duke handed her into the open landau rather than the earl. She and her cousin sat facing forward and the gentlemen settled themselves on the other seat.

  “My butler promised it would be a lovely day,” the duke began as the driver pulled away from the curb. “I am sure he was correct.”

  “Yes,” Willa agreed. “The flowers are beginning to bloom nicely in our garden.”

  “I do love this time of year,” Claire added.

  It took only a short time to gain access to Hyde Park, and soon they were joining in the throng of carriages, horseback riders, and walkers filling the roads and paths to capacity. The driver patiently reined in the team and their pace slowed to a mere crawl.

  “Good afternoon,” called a young man Claire recognized as one who had sent her flowers. He greeted them all, but his eyes rested appreciatively on her.

  “Miss Dutton, Miss Stuart!” another gentleman said as he approached, only greeting the duke and earl as a matter of politeness.

  Willa laughed merrily, and Claire soon joined in when a third young man kicked his horse into a faster walk to join their admirers. “Oh my,” she said, placing her gloved hand over her mouth as she saw yet another coming this way.

  The duke looked positively angry and the earl slightly put out as the young men gathered around the vehicle, forcing it to a halt. They clamored and jostled as each tried to gain the attention of one or the other of the girls.

  “Don’t any of you have somewhere to be?” the duke practically growled, followed by something which sounded much like a muttered “young jackanapes.”

  “Move out, men,” ordered the earl. “If you would like to take Miss Dutton or Miss Stuart for a ride, you can certainly invite them yourselves.”

  At last, the young men moved away, none seeming to be angry or upset at the slightly older men in the landau.

  “We must expect this notoriety when taking out two lovely ladies, Noel,” the earl told his friend.

  Willa and Claire were still giggling. Never had either of them experienced such attention. “We have only seen them once or twice each!” Willa exclaimed.

  “But your beauty and manners stand out above the others,” Lord Roydon pointed out. “As the season has barely begun, I suggest you get used to the attention,” he said with an amiable grin.

  As they slowly moved on, Claire spied a bed of golden yellow flowers in full bloom. “Oh, look,” she cried unable to help herself, “aren’t they beautiful?”

  All looked in the direction she indicated. “It is pretty,” agreed Willa.

  “It’s the crocus flavus,” the duke said. “It is one of my favorites, but I prefer Kiss of Spring crocus due to its slightly different shape and the tiny touch of pink on its petals.”

  Claire looked up at him in surprise. No man she had ever met took such an interest in flowers. “I admit to being surprised,” she confessed. “You must enjoy gardening.”

  “I do,” the duke said. “I have several large gardens on my country estate as well as a number of hothouses.”

  “How fascinating!” Even without seeing them, Claire was envious of his facilities. “I would love to have a hothouse. Even a small one would be a real treat.”

  “You enjoy gardening, Miss Stuart?”

  “I do,” she answered. “Quite so.”

  “Claire can raise anything,” Willa said. “She also arranges the most beautiful bouquets. I am so clumsy at it, but she just seems to have an eye for what type of bloom or frond should be placed where.”

  Claire became uncomfortable under the scrutiny of the duke. He had such a solemn way of looking at her it almost made her squirm. “It’s nothing,” she said and then spying a small group of people near the water, she spoke again. “Look there is a nursemaid with her charges feeding the geese. What a delightful sight.”

  They all looked in the direction and the earl soon began to laugh. “Look, she has an admirer who has met them there.”

  Indeed, a young footman was near her, obviously showing off. He held a sack of what must be dried bread and handed it piece by piece to the maid and the children. Suddenly a large goose took a mind to have the entire sack for himself. Flapping his wings and lowering his beak, he ran toward the young man, intent on his goal. The young man began to run away, a feat not easily accomplished in his tight livery. However, the goose was at his heels with each step until the footman finally dropped the bread. The goose could not stop so quickly but soon doubled back for his feast.

  All four of the vehicle occupants were laughing at the scene. “This has been so much fun,” Claire declared unthinkingly. She had clapped her hands in a childlike fashion, and then, realizing she must have appeared to be about five, she placed her hands in her lap and tried to stop laughing.

  The duke, turning back toward her, looked at her intently with a small smile upon his lips. “Indeed it has, Miss Stuart. Indeed it has.”

  A delicious shiver ran down her spine.

  Chapter Seven

  The Roxbury mansion was across the square from the Amhearsts’. Claire was amused when they climbed into the carriage and spent many minutes obtaining access to a building only the shortest walk away.

  “It would not be the thing to arrive on foot,” Aunt Blythe reprimanded when she commented on it.

  “I know,” Claire replied, “but it does seem silly.”

  “Most of London seems silly to me,” her uncle assured her. “Consequently, I spend most of my time in the country. In fact, once Willa is married and settled I may sell this monstrous place.”

  “Yale! Where would I stay when I come to shop?” his wife asked him.

  “At the hotel, like other visitors,” he answered sensibly.

  “Some of them are most fashionable,” she replied thoughtfully as the carriage stopped in front of the Roxbury home.

  Lady Roxbury met them in the hall. “Oh, Blythe,” she declared, being a particular friend of the viscountess and Willa’s godmother, “I am so excited. I had been in a positive dither over what to do, as my numbers were uneven, until I found two elderly gentlemen to fill out the table. Then, today the Duke of Lamberton accepted my invitation. I always invite him but never expect him to attend.”

  “How nice,” Claire’s aunt remarked with a small, knowing smile on her face.

  “And directly after his accept
ance arrived, the Earl of Roydon’s acceptance appeared. Suddenly my numbers were off again! But it doesn’t stop there,” Lady Roxbury continued quickly. “Soon the Duchess sent her acceptance. Imagine; I’m to have a duke and a duchess in attendance. Then, Lady Roydon sent her acceptance. All at once I was back to having even numbers.” She moved ahead and tucked her arm through her friend’s, “it’s been absolutely exhausting.” She led the party into the drawing room where they could see they were the first guests to arrive.

  “Your dinner party will be the talk of the week,” the viscountess assured her friend.

  “I daresay it will,” Lady Roxbury said. “Although, I can’t think why it suddenly became so popular.”

  Claire selected a seat on a pretty sofa, and Willa perched beside her. The two older women took the sofa opposite them and the two men, being old friends as well, crossed to the fireplace where Viscount Roxbury poured them each a small aperitif.

  “You young ladies look positively charming this evening,” their hostess told them. “This particular shade of blue brings out your eyes, Miss Stuart. Willa, I have always thought you were beyond pretty when wearing anything green. It so sets off your brunette complexion.”

  “Thank you, Godmother,” Willa replied comfortably, having grown up with many visits from the couple.

  “Yes, thank you for the compliment,” Claire said. “It’s kind of you.” She had never met the Roxburys before coming to London but had called on them with her aunt several times since then, and she had, of course, heard much about them while growing up.

  “Have you been in touch with your parents, dear?” the lady asked Claire.

  “A letter arrived from them just today, ma’am. I recently wrote them we were attending your dinner party tonight, and Mama and Papa sent their regards.”

  “Thank you for the kindness from them,” their hostess replied. “I remember your mother in school. She’s what, three years younger than us?” Here she paused to look at her friend but did not wait for a reply. “No, two years, if I remember correctly. She was such a sweet, little thing. You remind me a bit of her, although I daresay you get your looks from your grandmother. Doesn’t she Blythe?”

  “I am sure she does,” Claire’s aunt answered. “Our mother was so beautiful. I have the fondest memories of her singing lullabies to us when she put us to bed at night. Within the glow of the candle, she appeared just like an angel.”

  An angel. The phrase reminded Claire of the hideous day not long in the past. He had called her an angel. She shivered.

  “Are you cold, dear?” her aunt asked her.

  “No, someone just walked on my grave,” she said with a smile.

  The butler appeared at the doorway, “Her Grace the Dowager Duchess of Lamberton and His Grace the Duke of Lamberton.”

  They all rose and Claire watched in fascination as a tiny gray haired lady who moved with surprising energy crossed the room and kissed their hostess on each cheek. The lady blushed a decided pink and said, “What an honor, Your Grace.”

  The duchess waved this away and took herself around to each occupant of the room. When she came to Claire, the duchess grasped her hand and looked at her piercingly. “And you must be Miss Claire Stuart.”

  “Yes, Your Grace, I am,” Claire said timidly. She was a bit in awe of this personage but had decided immediately she liked her.

  “I’ll sit right here,” the duchess said and sat in the center of the sofa patting the space on each side of her. “Do sit, girls,” she commanded.

  They took their seats. Claire glanced up at the duke who was hovering nearby. He was watching her again, a hooded expression about his eyes.

  “Noel, do go join the men,” his mother told him with a dismissing wave of her hand. He bowed slightly and walked away.

  “Miss Stuart, I understand you are a vicar’s daughter.”

  “Yes, Your Grace,” Claire answered. “My father is the vicar of Chittingham in Surrey.”

  “Nice countryside there,” the duchess remarked. “And you have a mother I assume, and siblings.”

  “Of course. I have four sisters, in fact.”

  “And no brothers?” the duchess asked.

  Claire shook her head. “I’m afraid not.”

  “And you, Miss Dutton,” the duchess said turning to Claire’s cousin, “I have heard you are an only child.”

  “Yes, Your Grace,” Willa answered. “Although Claire and I are quite close. More so than most cousins at any rate. We share a birthday even.”

  “How vastly interesting! And you are the same age?”

  “Within two hours.”

  “And which is the eldest?” the duchess asked.

  “I am,” Claire replied.

  The butler entered to announce more guests, bringing an end to the constant questions the duchess asked. The newcomers were the Earl of Roydon and his mother. Soon after they arrived, yet more people entered, so it was quite a merry party, which awaited their evening meal.

  The evening passed quickly for Claire. There was no chance to be alone with any one person. The company was congenial, the food excellent. Seated at the lower end of the table, she found the elderly baron who sat next to her to be quite amusing. He'd known her grandfather and spun many tales of their youthful adventures.

  When the hostess signaled for the ladies to retire, they made their way back to the drawing room where she begged Willa and Claire, as the only two young women, to entertain. The men did not stay apart for long, and soon both the duke and the earl were dancing attendance on them. Standing next to the pianoforte, the duke flipped the pages while the earl joined in the singing.

  It was with regret that Claire and, she believed, Willa took their leave. As they walked down the hall toward their rooms at home, she turned to her cousin. “This evening was so much fun. I believe I enjoyed it much more than a ball,” she said.

  “Me, too,” Willa said tiredly. “We four made a merry group.” She opened her door. “G’night, Claire.”

  “Goodnight, Willa.”

  Entering her own chamber Claire hugged herself and danced around the room. By the time Molly came to attend her, she had donned her nightdress and slipped into her bed in the dark. She heard the maid look in and quietly close the door.

  The evening was wonderful! They had all had so much fun. Claire managed not to worry about the earl or the duke or whom she must marry. She had let herself go and had a great time. The older guests had been entertaining as well. Lady Roydon was much the same as their first meeting – outspoken and kind. Her Grace was so energetic, Claire could not imagine what it must be like to keep up with her day by day. No doubt the duchess could run circles around her.

  The baron who had been her dinner partner, made her believe her grandfather had a wild streak she did not know about before. She would have to mention this in her next letter home and would ask Aunt Blythe about it the next day.

  Her eyes slid shut, and sleep welcomed her. If she dreamt of a handsome man with dark hair and serious eyes, she did not recall it in the morning. Nor did she remember her dreams of his arms embracing her as his breath caressed her neck, raising tantalizing goose bumps on her skin. Only a wandering spirit might have seen her smile in the darkness and heard her murmured words, “Your Grace, Your Grace.”

  ****

  “A nightcap, Mama?” Noel asked his mother.

  “I believe I will for digestive purposes. I ate far too much tonight. Lady Roxbury has an excellent cook.”

  “Indeed she does,” he agreed. “The sauce served with the duck was rich and smooth. And those little tarts were quite a delicacy.”

  “As is your Miss Stuart,” the duchess remarked.

  “Did you think so, truly?”

  “Of course. She is certainly beautiful and she seems quite humble. I like it when a gel knows her place in life. Yet she’s not afraid to speak out. Extremely talented as well.”

  “Yes, she is,” he replied thoughtfully remembering the joy he had experien
ced in listening to her voice for well over an hour.

  “I approve wholeheartedly,” his mother announced.

  “It does not bother you to know she is but a vicar’s daughter?” he asked.

  “No, I am but an earl’s daughter. She is the granddaughter of a baron. Do not think I am so high in the instep, my son. Some vicar’s daughters would have a difficult time adjusting to such a high rank, but I am sure she will not. It might take some time, of course, but I assure you she will adapt well to the role of lady of the manor.”

  She finished her sherry and stood. “I’m off to bed. Sleep well.”

  Noel rose, poured himself another drink, and settled back into his chair to bask in the warm glow of memories. Claire, as he thought of her now, had been a delight this evening and, in fact, earlier in the day. He thought she was reserved, but he felt he had seen the true nature of her personality today.

  He was thrilled when he found out she shared his enthusiasm for gardening. Furthermore, her joy at seeing the crocus bed had been genuine, but better yet was her laughter. When she pointed out the fiasco between the footman and the goose, she broke into gales of laughter. It had not been mean, like so many young women’s laughter was. It, too, was genuine – the scene tickled her.

  Noel had watched her unnoticed. Her eyes sparkled; her face glowed. And he fell more deeply in love with each throaty chuckle. Tonight had been the same. She played the pianoforte with verve, her fingers practically dancing across the keys. He remembered the moment when the men walked into the drawing room. She was playing, her cousin standing near her, and they had obviously forgotten about their audience. They laughed between verses and whispered between songs. The older women sat entranced, just as he had been. Drawn to her, like a moth to a flame, he had crossed the room with John at his heels.

  “Might I turn the pages?” he asked.

  “Of course, right now, please,” she cheerfully demanded.

  He had turned it quickly and then learned to watch for the slight nod she gave each time she was ready for a new page. Once he had been concentrating on the hair curling at her nape and had forgotten his duty.