Misleading a Duke

by A. S. Fenichel

  She shrugged, and even that move flowed gracefully. “Men rarely ask me to dance, Your Grace.”

  Waiting until they came together again, he asked, “Why is that?”

  Her laugh was soft but filled with genuine amusement. “I am an orphan with little to recommend me. I live off the kindness of an aging aunt and a small sum my parents left behind.”

  Society often enraged Nick. This was a nice woman, smart and witty, yet her lack of fortune or connection would leave her to spend her life alone. “It seems quite unfair to me, Miss Heath, as you dance extremely well.”

  “My name is Mercy. Life is rarely fair, Your Grace.” She grinned as they made the next turn, which took them away from each other. When she once again took his hand, she asked, “Why have you not broken your engagement with my friend? After all this time and all that has happened, I would have thought you’d had enough.”

  “You are far too bold, Mercy.” He let the pass go without answering, but when they arrived together for the end of the dance, he said, “I am not willing to give her up.”

  Mercy cocked her head. “That may be the first truly honest thing I’ve ever heard you say, Your Grace.”

  “My name is Nick. I doubt that is true. However, I admit I have my secrets to keep.” He escorted her toward the fireplace.

  “If you’re not willing to give her up and you are ready to be a good husband, why have you not set a date?” Mercy stopped before they reached the crush of people hovering around the edges of the room.

  Nick turned toward her. “I believe you are worried about Lord Dornbury’s threat to force Faith back to his home.”

  “I am.” She narrowed her eyes.

  “And you suggest I set a date to keep her at the West Lane townhouse, regardless of the fact that she has not officially agreed to marry me?” He put a few things together and could see her logic.

  “It seems logical. Faith can always call off later, should that be her decision.” Mercy’s green eyes flashed with intelligence.

  Faith might not like the solution, but it did make sense. “I shall give it some thought. Thank you for your input, Mercy.”

  Mercy’s attention shifted to the other side of the ballroom. “Who is that man?”

  Turning his attention in the direction of her gaze, he found the subject of her question speaking to Aurora Sherbourn and her mother, the Dowager Countess of Marsden. The man was broad shouldered, with dark blond hair, and dressed in elegant black with a yellow cummerbund. “That is Wesley Renshaw, the Earl of Castlewick. I went to school with him, but have not seen him in years. I suppose my sister thought his name lofty enough to warrant an invitation.”

  “Would you mind introducing me?” Her eyes were narrowed and tightness laced her words.

  Nick offered his arm. “Of course.”

  They had to skirt a great many people readying themselves for the next dance. Mercy was far better and nimbler at making a path than he was. Nick asked, “Is the Countess of Radcliff out of mourning?”

  “Only just,” Mercy said, disgust lacing her words. “Her mother is likely already shopping another abominable husband for her.”

  “I see,” Nick said, and they moved with more urgency. When they reached the threesome, Nick shook Wesley’s hand. “How are you, Castlewick?”

  “Very well. It’s good to see you. I was happy to receive the invitation. I’ve been at my country home for the winter and just arrived in London two weeks ago. This is the first card I’ve been inclined to accept.” Wesley spoke openly, but withheld any real information.

  It was the sign of a man who was into things he didn’t want others to know about, but he told enough to keep the questions at a minimum. Nick had seen the tactic many times. “May I introduce Miss Mercedes Heath. She is a good friend of Lady Radcliff’s and my fiancée’s. The ladies all went to finishing school together.”

  Wesley bowed. “Miss Heath, a pleasure to meet you.”

  “How do you do, my lord.” Mercy made a pretty curtsy. “I hope you will not think me rude, but I need to steal away my friend. We have an urgent matter to discuss. I’m sure the dowager and our host will be more than enough to entertain you.”

  A short laugh escaped Wesley’s mouth. “I would not wish to keep you from anything urgent.”

  Aurora took Mercy’s arm and the two rushed through the crowd and out of the ballroom.

  Lady Marsden’s frown said that she did not feel the same as Wesley. “I must apologize for my daughter and her friend. They can be quite dramatic. I can assure you when away from bad influences, Aurora is a perfect lady.”

  “I’m sure that is true,” Wesley agreed, amusement still lingering in his tone.

  Aurora’s mother made a curtsy and excused herself.

  “A perfect lady sounds dreadfully boring.” Wesley laughed and slapped Nick on the back. “How have you been?”

  The scars on Nick’s back were still sensitive, but he managed to only cringe and not call out. “Well enough, Wes.”

  As alert as ever, Wesley noted Nick’s discomfort. “Are you injured?”

  “A small accident that is still on the mend. Not to worry.”

  “I’m sorry. I didn’t know.” Genuine concern overshadowed Wesley’s earlier amusement.

  “It’s all right. No one knows. I’ll be fine. You should know that Lady Radcliff has only been out of mourning for a few weeks and is not looking for a new husband. Her mother is a bit premature in her search for a new match, from what I’m told.” The sharp pain was short-lived, and Nick thought it a good time to help a Wallflower, even if it was not his Wallflower.

  Wesley nodded. “I’m in no rush. Her mother foisted me on her and I could see she was less than pleased by the intrusion. Still, she is rich and I am as well. It could be a good match when she is ready.”

  It was hard to argue with that. “I suppose that is true.”

  “Her friend is a spitfire.”

  Nick was constantly amazed by Faith and her friends’ ability to thwart society. “She is that and quite pretty as well.”

  “Indeed. Perhaps I will find Miss Heath and beg a dance,” Wesley said.

  “Good hunting, Wes.” Nick laughed and the two parted.

  Nick walked to the parlor, where a fire blazed. Several people sat around chatting and two tables were filled with card players. Many of them spoke to him and he made polite conversation. All the while the note in his pocket worried him. He patted it several times to assure himself it was still there.

  He continued through to a short hallway that led to his office. He liked the out-of-the-way location, away from the front of the house. Servants and callers rarely bothered him, but he preferred the smaller space facing the garden to the large library his father had used as an office. Inside, pale papered walls surrounded by polished wood molding gave him comfort. He’d missed home when he was abroad. The last week back in London had been delightfully boring. He could stand more boredom in his life.

  A small fire in the hearth was the result of a household staff who knew he liked to get away from crowds and think. Nick tossed the note he’d received into the flames and viewed the parchment burn to ash.

  “Bad news?” Geb asked from beside him.

  Nick hadn’t noticed his friend’s arrival, but he was used to the way Geb often appeared from out of nowhere. “News is news, neither good or bad.”

  “Does it take you out of London?”

  Nodding, Nick sighed. Faith was never going to forgive him if he didn’t stay and make her see how perfect they were for each other.

  “Then the news is bad,” Geb said gravely.

  “Yes. I suppose so.” Nick wished he could stay and woo Faith until her feelings matched his own. As it was, this mission would take their relationship in the wrong direction.

  Geb sighed. “Will she forgive you?”

&nb
sp; It was a fair question. “I would forgive her anything. I suppose if her feelings are as strong as mine, then she will forgive me for leaving town.”

  “Are you testing her?” The disapproval in Geb’s voice was clear.

  “Not with intention, but it shall work out that way.” Would Faith pass, and would it matter to him if she didn’t?

  Chapter 19

  Faith sat in the ladies’ parlor at West Lane and brooded. Not knowing what to think, she sulked and hoped for some sign of what to do. Rumple slept in her lap, his gentle snoring steady and comforting as her mind rushed in a dozen different directions.

  “Quite a night last night.” Mercy sauntered in and flounced down on the chaise.

  It sounded tongue-in-cheek, but Faith ignored the sarcasm. “Why do you suppose he told my father to pick a date in June for our wedding?”

  “So that you would not be forced to leave West Lane, of course.” Mercy said it with confidence and as if it was the obvious answer.

  “How do you know that was his reason?” Faith knew Mercy well enough to know there was more to her matter-of-fact statement.

  She shrugged. “Because we discussed the option as the most logical at the ball last night.”

  “You told him to set a date with my father?” Faith’s head pounded as blood rushed through her ears. Her hand stilled in Rumple’s fur.

  Mercy raised her brows. “I don’t think anyone tells the Duke of Breckenridge what to do. I just said it would solve your problem.”

  Unable to keep calm, Faith jumped from her seat. “But Mercy, I haven’t decided if I want to marry him yet.”

  “What does that matter, Faith? If you don’t want to marry him, then you’ll break it off with or without a wedding date. This way you get to stay here and not live with your parents. I assumed you would prefer to live here. Was I wrong?” Mercy relaxed back onto the chaise, her left leg bent under her and one arm over her head.

  Confused, Faith wasn’t sure what to say. “No. I do not want to live with my parents and listen to sermons and censures. But setting a date makes the idea of marrying Nick so imminent.”

  Unbending from the chaise, Mercy stood and came to sit next to Faith on the settee. “I had the impression you were in love with Nick, Faith. You spoke of him with a great deal of tenderness when you arrived home from your imprisonment. You did not sound then like a woman who was unsure about what she wanted.”

  “He has not stopped his occupation as a spy, Mercy. I don’t know if I can live with the idea of him running off, and not knowing if he’ll ever come back.” A shiver ran up Faith’s spine. Even now she was unsure if she would ever see him again.

  Mercy frowned. “Perhaps you should discuss your feelings with him. That is, if you are in love with him.”

  “He won’t even admit to me that he’s back to his spying business.” She sounded petulant but she didn’t care.

  “What did he say?” Mercy asked.

  “That it would be dangerous for me to know too much about his business.”

  “It seems it was dangerous for you to know nothing.”

  “That’s what I told him.” Faith threw her hands up in the air.

  Rumple complained but snuggled in closer.

  Smiling, Mercy patted her back. “Don’t you have an appointment to have tea with his sister this afternoon?”

  Faith glanced at the clock near the door. She sighed. “Yes. I must get ready. Perhaps I can find out something useful from Elana. Though I’m not certain if she knows anything about her brother’s activities.” Transferring Rumple to Mercy’s lap, Faith stood and walked toward the door, thinking about the blue dress she would wear to meet with the elegant Countess of Dunworth.

  “May I say one more thing, Faith?” Mercy petted the puppy back into sleep.

  Stopping, she turned back to Mercy. “Of course.”

  “I have always had a romantic belief that if you truly loved someone, you would forgive them almost anything. Nick forgave you for spying on him, even though he was put out by the events of last summer. He trusted you with his care and his heart. Don’t you think he deserves the same from you?” Mercy smiled warmly. “Go and get ready. You don’t want to be late.”

  Faith no longer worried about the dress she’d picked. She wrestled with the truth of Mercy’s observations. Lord, why did she have to be so logical?

  * * * *

  Fifteen minutes early for her tea appointment, Faith struggled with whether she should sit in her carriage and wait for the appropriate time to arrive or go up the stairs to the Earl and Countess of Dunworth’s townhouse. It was around the corner from Nick’s stunning London home, and she’d had a fleeting thought of stopping and seeing if he had indeed left the country as she suspected.

  “Oh, dash it. John!” She called the driver.

  A moment later John’s affable head popped into the window. “My lady?”

  “I’m going in.”

  John’s grin showed yellowed teeth, and he had a small scar on his chin that Faith had often speculated about. She’d never had the nerve to ask him how he’d got it, though he was so easy spirited, he would likely tell her. He opened the carriage door and lowered the step before handing Faith down into the street. “I’ll be right here when you’re ready to go home, Lady Faith.”

  “Thank you, John.” If Faith married and moved away from West Lane, she would miss the life the Wallflowers had created and the loyalty of the people they’d surrounded themselves with.

  Pushing aside the future, Faith had a present to deal with. She climbed the stairs, knocked and waited.

  An unusually young butler was still fussing with his coat when he pulled the door open. “How may I help you?”

  He’d sounded desperate, and Faith relaxed. She smiled at the blond butler with the face of perhaps a twenty-year-old. “Lady Faith Landon to see her ladyship. I have an appointment.”

  “Of course. Forgive me, my lady. The countess told me you were coming.” He babbled an apology but still neglected to invite her in.

  “Grant, perhaps you might invite my guest inside the house rather than leave her on the stoop for all the neighbors to gossip about,” Elana’s kind but forceful voice called from within.

  “Yes, my lady. I’m so sorry. Please come in, Lady Faith.” Grant opened the door wider.

  “Thank you.” Faith grinned but hid her desire to laugh. The poor man was already red as a beet.

  Not as grand as her brother’s home, the townhouse was still far fancier than most. A golden chandelier with dozens of crystals caught the light from a transom above the door and sent tiny rainbows flitting around the foyer. The tiles were white marble with black veins, and a round table stood in the center of the space, adorned with a vase waiting for the first spring flowers. The grand staircase climbed and arched around before disappearing into the upper floor.

  At the bottom of the stairs, with her hand resting on the polished wood handrail, Elana stood. Her smile was lit with amusement. “Thank you, Grant. Take the lady’s outerwear, and I will take over.”

  Unable to completely hide her amusement, because she was so relieved to find an imperfection when she expected to feel completely out of her element, Faith giggled. She handed Grant her pelisse, hat, and gloves. “Thank you.”

  With an awkward bow that nearly sent Faith’s belongings flying, Grant made his exit.

  Elana approached. Still smiling, she shook her head. “His father was our butler for many years. In fact, the elder Grant was the Dunworth butler when my husband was a boy. We recently pensioned him and he’s gone to the country for his health. His son is still learning the position and we are being patient.”

  “You are most kind to see him through this learning stage. I’m sure he’ll be a fine butler one day.” Faith had no idea if that were true, but she hoped for Grant’s sake she was being honest.
>
  “How are you, Lady Faith?” Elana kissed her cheek.

  Taken aback by the show of affection, Faith felt her cheeks flush. “I am well, your ladyship. I’m happy to be here.”

  A wide smile transformed Elana from pretty to beautiful. “Let’s go into my private parlor.” Her periwinkle day dress flowed around her as she led the way into a small but comfortable parlor. The fire burned low and two tall windows let in a good deal of light. Every surface was covered in cream and pale blue, and a portrait hanging on the wall depicted Elana sitting on a golden throne with a kind-eyed blond man standing beside her and three children sitting on the enormous chair with her.

  “You have a beautiful family, Lady Dunworth.” Faith’s heart panged with just a touch of jealousy.

  “Thank you. That was two years ago. My eldest boy is gone off to school and I miss him terribly. I look forward to summers when all my children are home.” She rounded a table, splitting the distance between two overstuffed chairs. “Will you come and sit? Tea will be here in a few minutes.”

  “I’m sorry to have arrived early. I thought of waiting in the street, but the gossips…” Faith let the word hang, as everyone knew everything that happened in London and a carriage sitting for fifteen minutes outside the Earl of Dunworth’s home, would be talked about.

  Elana waved off the apology. “I completely agree. But I must insist you call me Elana. After all, we are to be sisters.”

  Swallowing her immediate desire to add a maybe to Elana’s statement, Faith forced a smile. “Then I would be honored if you would call me Faith.”

  With a nod, she cocked her head at the sound of the door opening.

  A stout maid with black hair poking out from her white cap bustled in with a tea tray. “Cook baked fresh this morning, my lady, so I added some nice biscuits to the tea tray.” She had an accent that Faith couldn’t place and her skin was a lovely golden brown.

  “Thank you, Maude. This looks lovely.”

  When Maude had set everything out, she curtsied and strode out purposefully.