by Amelia Grey
Would she be able to continue to write about him and other rakes in her scandal sheet? Yes, she must. At least for a little longer. Until Eugenia could attend the Season and settle on a husband to take care of her so that she was no longer her sister’s responsibility. Then Marlena could give it up as she’d planned after the first Season.
But what would Marlena do if the duke somehow found out she was Miss Truth?
No, what would he do?
To her?
That didn’t matter right now. She couldn’t stop writing the scandal sheet. There was no arguing that point with herself. It was a small amount the publisher paid Marlena, but Eugenia and her married sister, Veronica, depended on it. It helped keep the sisters in their house and living next door to Marlena. She would find a way to keep writing the scandal sheet for now.
Yet what was she to do about the duke? She had absolutely no way to fight a change in her guardianship, no way to have the freedom to control her own inheritance. She would have to concede those facts.
“Oh, I don’t understand this,” she whispered more to herself than the man looking at her. “Mr. Olingworth has been kind to me all these years.” She placed the sealed envelope on the table beside the lamp. “He’s always allowed me more freedoms than most girls and young ladies would have. Why now would he be so cruel as to put you in charge of my life?”
“If it will make you feel better, perhaps you could look at this as it was meant to punish me, not you.”
“You?” Marlena exclaimed without a trace of caution in her words. His arrogance was of the highest order. But he was the typical rake, she thought. Thinking of no one but himself and his desires.
“How does this punish you? You certainly deserve to be reprimanded for all your misdeeds, but this penalizes me, not you.”
His brow furrowed a little. The first sign that she was beginning to make inroads into his good nature and get under his skin. He took a step closer to her. “Surely you can’t expect that it’s going to be easy for me to take on the responsibility of finding a young lady a husband.”
“All you had to do was say no.”
“I would have if it had been as simple as stating one word,” he countered. “Believe me, I have little appetite and even less desire to be in charge of anyone. Especially a lady who would rather root around in the garden and cut flowers instead of sitting in the drawing room learning how to paint them.”
Marlena stood her ground. “I enjoy being in the garden, and thankfully Mr. Olingworth had no problem with me doing so whenever I stayed at his home in the Cotswolds.”
“That was different,” the duke insisted. “You were a young girl then. In the countryside. Now you are in fashionable London. Young ladies are supposed to let the gardener, scullery maids, or someone else cut the blossoms and herbs. You are the last person who should be doing it. You’re a properly brought-up young lady with distant relatives who are nobly born and you should act accordingly.”
“Which also means I am not destitute,” she argued firmly, thinking he was mistaken if he thought she would so easily fall into whatever it was he wished for her. “I have an inheritance, small though it might be. I’m quite capable of finding my own husband without your help.”
“And as you know,” he said, his eyes narrowing in annoyance. “Someone must look after your interests until you make your debut in Society and decide on who that man will be and wed him. Olingworth chose me because he doesn’t have to worry about me gambling away your dowry before you can decide on a husband. He knows, and so will all of Society, that I’ll be beneficial to whomever you agree to make a match.”
“All of Society you say?” she questioned slowly, thinking carefully on his words. “Is that what this is about? Is it important to you what the ton thinks about you?”
The duke scowled. She wondered how he could do it and still look so incredibly handsome. Almost from the moment she first looked at him she’d felt as if her legs were melting from beneath her.
“I ceased caring what Society thought of me long ago.”
“It doesn’t appear so to me,” she maintained, giving more credence to her suggestion.
“Then you are wrong in your estimation of me.”
“Somehow I don’t think so. It sounded to me as if you want the ton to know how good you are being to the poor relation of an earl who had most of his lands confiscated by the King before I was born because he dared to criticize him for his exorbitant expenditures.”
“The earl did it in public, Miss Fast. That wasn’t wise.”
She agreed it wasn’t. She grew up hearing over and over again how dearly the earl’s cutting words to the King had cost his family. But whether or not the duke cared about his standing in Society, it was a valid argument for her to explore as to why he—a known rake—had decided to be Mr. Olingworth’s replacement.
“Maybe you think that by becoming my guardian you will somehow get forgiveness from Society for your secret admirer letters and regain favor in their eyes.”
“Want their favor?” The duke grunted another attractive laugh and leaned in close to her. “Hell would have to freeze over before I’d welcome that sentiment.”
Suddenly, with no forethought, Marlena smiled sweetly at the duke and said, “Miracles do happen, you know.”
He surrendered a slight nod of admiration for her comeback, but said, “Only for the saintly, Miss Fast, and that’s not a group I’m ever likely to be included in.”
Unfortunately, she didn’t suppose she ever would be, either. In fact, she had some nerve taking him to task for his past misdeeds while she wrote an anonymous scandal sheet about him and others under an assumed name. Though she’d never admit it to him, some might say they were two peas in the same pod on the vine.
“I don’t know your previous guardian well,” the duke continued, “but my father did. He held Olingworth in high esteem.”
“And what about me? Did you ask about me? Were you curious to find out more about me before or even after you accepted responsibility for me?”
“I have to admit I wasn’t. I trusted Olingworth that you were highborn and in desperate need of a sponsor so that you might make your debut, enter Society, and make a match.”
“Desperate?” The word came out almost as an oath. She was infuriated. If there was one thing living with her cousins had taught her, it was not to be desperate. It was to stay strong and find an answer to whatever situation you were in. “Mr. Olingworth would have never used that word concerning me. I may have lost my parents when I was a babe but I have never been desperate.”
“I didn’t know that you had been orphaned so long.”
She could see that her words surprised him and hoped she hadn’t revealed too much about herself to him.
“Though we met long ago, you and I have never really talked. Even I know that you lost your mother before you entered Oxford and your father only a few years ago.”
“From the newsprint and gossip sheets no doubt. I know very well that titled gentlemen are written about more than others. However, I’ll concede that perhaps it was Mr. Olingworth who was the desperate one. For you to continue your life and not be held up by his illness any longer. I am keeping my promise to him to do this for the respect I have for his and my father’s years of friendship.”
“You?” she asked with an exasperated breath of incredulity. “Respect? You who embarrassed twelve young ladies their first Season?”
“Yes.”
“You who mortified them in front of their parents, friends, and beaus? Leaving them completely defenseless.”
“Not intentionally, but yes,” he admitted without complaint.
“What you did caused their loved ones to question their honesty, their virtue, and their marriage prospects.”
“I can’t deny any of that, and I’m sure you assume I’m guilty of much more.”
“I have no doubt,” Marlena said and then realized he was taking her responses to him as a challenge, not an insul
t.
Besting the duke would not be easy. She had no idea where she was getting the fortitude to be so bold with him. Perhaps it was because she’d written about him, taken him to task under the privacy of an assumed name in her gossip sheet for almost three years. That must be why she now felt comfortable doing it face-to-face. Or it could be as simple as knowing how Veronica had suffered because of the secret admirer letters, thereby causing Eugenia to bear the burden, too. Marlena would never forget hearing from Eugenia that neither the duke nor his two friends had ever been reprimanded by Society for those letters in any way. Because they were dukes.
“I know it doesn’t help now,” His Grace said. “But we never thought we’d end up proving that all the strict morals and manners that had been instilled in the young ladies from their birth would leave them at the possibility of someone being secretly in love with them. But yes, I suppose when the three of us were contemplating or even carrying out this idea one of us should have been wise enough or perhaps sober enough to say, This isn’t a good idea. But none of us did. And it ended up every one of the ladies wanted to have a secret admirer.”
“But they didn’t want the whole world to know that about them.”
“It was never our intent anyone but the three of us know about any of it. I admit the wager between my friends and me to see who could entice the most young ladies to meet a secret admirer should have never happened. It was wrong. But it was years ago. And quite frankly, Miss Fast, I’m tired of being haunted by it.”
Marlena thought of Veronica and Eugenia again and how their lives had been affected. If it hadn’t been for the letters, Veronica wouldn’t have married Mr. Portington. If she hadn’t married the older gentleman, she and Eugenia wouldn’t be so unhappy.
But putting those thoughts aside, Marlena said, “Haunted by it? If so, that’s because you never suffered any ill effects because of the letters.”
The duke straightened, shrugged. “Judging the merits of my past behavior is not why I’m here. You are. As your guardian, the first thing I want to do is move you and your cousin into my Mayfair house.”
“Move?” Marlena felt as if someone had punched her in the stomach, causing her to lose her breath. “To Mayfair? You can’t be serious.” She pulled on the ribbon around her neck. Why hadn’t she been able to untie the worrisome thing?
“It’s bigger than this house and completely staffed.”
Marlena’s heart started racing. Move from next door to Eugenia? She couldn’t. Her friend was the one who saw to it Miss Honora Truth’s Scandal Sheet made it to the publisher each week. And if Marlena moved, where would Veronica go for reassurance when a new shipment of her husband’s fossils arrived and she became stricken with yet another attack of despair? If Marlena didn’t write the scandal sheet, where would the sisters get the extra money needed for their household?
“I don’t want to move,” she told the duke hastily, refusing to give in and give up without a fight.
“I’m trying to do what’s right by you, Miss Fast. Mayfair will be a better place for you to live during the Season.”
No, Marlena couldn’t leave St. James. Becoming friends with the sisters had been a welcomed addition to her life when she first came to London. They had needed her friendship and she needed them, too. Eugenia and Veronica were her friends. Her cousin was older and more like a governess. Justine was always telling Marlena what she must do and how she must do it. For once Marlena was taking care of someone other than herself and she wouldn’t let them down. She would find a way out of moving away, as she had found her way out of the marsh, the woods, and the gravestones.
Marlena had never lacked for anything that she could remember, but she’d never wanted much. Her aunt, uncle, and cousins had never needed her when she lived with them, but she’d needed them. The boys had taught her how to be strong, resilient, and most of all to not be afraid. Having Eugenia and Veronica to help and visit with gave her things to do other than garden work, stitchery, and reading—which she enjoyed and wanted to do—while waiting around to make her debut into Society. Something that she couldn’t say she was eager to do.
“You’ll find you’ll have no worries there. Everything will be handled for you.”
Marlena put her thoughts back to the matter at hand. “I thank you for the offer, but I’d rather remain where I am. It’s very generous of you to suggest a larger home. I’m quite content with my life as it is now and see no reason to change it.”
The duke shifted his weight. His gaze swept up and down her face as if studying every detail of her features. She remained adamant in her stance.
“Maybe you aren’t understanding me,” he said softly, but without equivocating. “Olingworth only allowed you to forgo the Season the last two years because of his illness. I have no such restrictions. You’re now my responsibility and I will see you suitably wed. You need to attend the Season so you can meet all the eligible gentlemen and settle on a husband. Presumably, someone you care for and someone who will adore you so you won’t have to be anyone’s ward but a gentleman’s wife.”
“But I don’t want that,” she insisted. “Not yet, anyway.”
“That is what young ladies do, Miss Fast,” he said with an edge of irritation creeping into his tone once again. “Not only is Mayfair the better place for you, you’ll need someone to sponsor you and train you in all the right—”
“Train me!” Marlena had never gasped so many times in her life. “You have some nerve even for a duke, Your Grace. I am not a dog or a carnival animal to be trained.”
He frowned and rubbed the back of his neck. “That was a poor choice of words.”
“I’m glad you realize that.”
“I’m not accustomed to arguing with young ladies about what is best for their future.”
“You don’t need to. Most of them already know.”
“Apparently you don’t. You might as well get used to the fact I may not say things the way you’re used to hearing them. I’m not trying to be callous, just to get across my point that you need things I can’t personally take care of for you.”
“And here is my answer to you,” she argued without fear of retribution. “Mr. Olingworth made sure I was well schooled in all necessary areas. I have mastered mathematics, sciences, French, the pianoforte, how to manage a household, and many other things. Everything he required of me, in fact. I don’t need further training on any subject.”
Much to her surprise, his expression softened. An attractive smile formed on the duke’s lips. And much to her annoyance, it calmed her and soothed her anger.
“You were digging in the garden when I arrived, Miss Fast.”
“No,” she countered cautiously, and noticed that Tut wandered out of the room as if he was tired of listening to them banter. “I wasn’t digging. I wasn’t. Merely cutting the herbs for Mrs. Doddle. Because I enjoy it. Not because I must.”
“Fine,” he said, but the humor in his expression let her know he didn’t believe her. “And fine, that you need no further lessons added to your accomplishments. But there are other things you do need before you curtsy before the Queen, make your debut, and enter Society. You must have connections to the proper ladies of the ton who can handle getting you invitations to the balls, private parties, teas, and the many other events that Society deems necessary for a young lady who is seeking a husband. You need clothing, gowns, gloves, and all that finery ladies put in their hair with feathers, beads, and ribbons to wear to balls. I don’t know about these things, but I will employ someone for you who does.”
Marlena had no argument for what he said. It was true. She had no connections to high Society and Justine’s were limited, even though her cousin liked to think otherwise. Marlena had no proper clothing or a piece of jewelry of any kind to wear to a ball. She’d never had need of a silk gown or a velvet reticule. She didn’t favor stiff, satin-covered bonnets that were worn for show. She preferred her straw hats. They were useful, malleable over time. Jewelry
around her neck would probably just be a bother and become as tangled as her ribbon. She’d be pulling at it all the time. She had no use for delicate fabrics, either. They were expensive, easy to snag, and difficult to keep clean.
“I’m sure you didn’t want to hear that I’m your new guardian,” the duke said with a tone of finality.
“That is putting it mildly, Your Grace,” she answered, her irritation at being in the unimaginable position of being the ward of the Duke of Rathburne weighing heavily on her.
“Quite frankly, I wish it wasn’t so, too.”
“I’m not sure that’s apparent to me.”
“Then let me make it clear. No matter the reason I accepted this responsibility, I am committed to taking care of you. We both must deal with this because it isn’t going to change until you are wed.”
“Then may I be wed quickly,” she said tartly.
“The sooner the better,” he quipped right back at her.
“That’s the first thing you’ve said that I happen to agree with.”
“Good,” he said with fierce concentration. “Because surely even you know how damned lucky it makes you to be the ward of a duke.”
They both sucked in a deep breath.
Marlena was quite simply stunned by the duke’s proclamation and apparently he was, too. If he’d been looking for a way to silence their heated exchange, he’d found it. Marlena had no words to refute the duke’s blunt remark. She was a practical person in all things and couldn’t deny there would be many benefits to being under a duke’s protection. All he said would be true—if she were anyone other than Miss Marlena Fast who wrote as Miss Honora Truth.
“And yes,” he continued in a softer voice, “you might as well realize now that I sometimes swear in front of ladies. You’ll have to get used to that as well.”