It's All About the Duke--The Rakes of St. James

by Amelia Grey

  “That is good news,” Eugenia said with a satisfied huff.

  “Mr. Trout says he still receives many good comments. However, you know I couldn’t write it if Veronica didn’t attend some of the social functions she’s invited to and report back to me everything she hears. And Justine, too, of course, though she’d much rather talk about herself most of the time.”

  “Veronica does hear an enormous amount of gossip.” Eugenia laughed softly. “I’m sure it’s because she’s so quiet. Most people probably don’t even know she’s nearby and listening to them. I only wish she were happy with Mr. Portington.”

  The relationship between the two of them was something neither Marlena nor Eugenia could help with. “We both thought getting a small measure of revenge on the rakes would have helped Veronica with the feelings of despondency that come over her from time to time.”

  Veronica had continued to attend some of the parties, refusing to give up her social life completely as her husband had after he lost his membership at White’s. She hadn’t found a way to remedy his obsession with his artifacts and fossils either. And she lay the blame for her hasty, unhappy marriage to the older Mr. Portington squarely at the feet of the Rakes of St. James.

  Veronica had been one of the young ladies making her debut the year the rakes sent their secret admirer letters. Society went into a tailspin when they realized twelve young ladies had taken the letter seriously and had slipped away from their parents and chaperones to meet with their secret admirer. Only later to find out it was a trick created by the rakes for their personal wager and enjoyment.

  There were no secret admirers for any of the ladies.

  Veronica’s bouts of deep melancholy were the reason Marlena had come up with the idea for Miss Honora Truth’s Scandal Sheet. Shortly after she’d moved in next door to the two sisters, she’d become aware that Veronica was hopeless in her marriage, and blamed her situation on the rakes’ letters. With a meager dowry, she’d felt as if the scandal had left her few choices when it came to marriage.

  When Marlena heard that because of their titles, none of the rakes were ever held accountable, not even shunned by Society for a short time, she was upset by the unfairness of it, too. She wondered how the rakes would feel if their sisters were the marks of an ill-advised scheme their first Season?

  Maybe they should find out, she’d thought. And just maybe doing so would help Veronica feel better about the decision she’d made to marry Mr. Portington.

  Eager to help her new friends, Marlena had suggested they start their own scandal sheet to make sure everyone remembered what the rakes had done to the young ladies making their debuts that year. So the chickens had come home to roost for the three rakes who had so easily fooled innocent young ladies into thinking they had a secret admirer.

  And thus Miss Honora Truth’s Scandal Sheet was born.

  “Surely you aren’t thinking you can continue to write about the duke while he is your guardian,” Eugenia said, breaking into Marlena’s thoughts of the past.

  “I don’t know yet,” Marlena answered truthfully. “That money is what helps you and your sister to continue to live in your house. You would have to move away otherwise. I must think about it.”

  “But what if the duke finds out?”

  “And what if he doesn’t,” Marlena said, trying to remain optimistic. “There’s no reason to assume he is even trying to find out who is writing the column or who started the rumor that the Duke of Griffin’s sisters might be in danger of mischief their debut Season. Even if he did, you must not worry. I would never implicate you, Veronica, or Mr. Bramwell. I won’t let anything happen to any of you.”

  Eugenia laid a comforting hand over Marlena’s. “And we would never let you take all the blame for helping us.”

  “I’d want to. I would insist. Besides, what will he do to me, other than insist I marry so I’m no longer his responsibility? And he’s already planning to do that.”

  “You marry?”

  “Yes. I’ll be twenty at the end of the year. Marriage is something I must start considering, as will you, as soon as the Season starts. The duke doesn’t seem to be a patient man to me. I don’t think he’ll want the responsibility for my welfare for very long.”

  “And Veronica wants me to make a match this year, too. And I would if—” Eugenia stopped, sighed, and then continued. “There’s one good thing about this. We’ll be attending the Season together.”

  Marlena smiled. “Yes. We will be there for each other as we have been these past years. Now I will need you to help me keep your sister calm when I tell her who my new guardian is.”

  “Oh.” Eugenia breathed the word out for a long time. “I guess she will have to know, too.”

  “Yes, but I will explain to her that she should have no worries about this and that you and I have everything under control. She will certainly understand that I have no choice in who my guardian will be. Besides, she’s seen the Duke of Rathburne and the other two rakes on occasions at parties and dinners over the past years. She avoids them. That’s the proper thing to do. No one in Society should ever know she harbors ill will. She would be the one punished. Not the dukes.”

  Eugenia nodded. “I’ll reinforce to her everything you said.”

  “Good, because I really don’t have answers to any of this, Eugenia, except I see no reason to change our routine. Veronica will continue to get the gossip from her group of friends and tell it to me. Along with the bits I pick up from Justine, I’ll write the sheet and give it to you. You’ll give it to your maid to hand off to her sister to leave for Mr. Trout when she cleans the publishing company in the evenings. So you see, there is no reason to worry about any of this. All will be good.”

  For now.

  “Good afternoon, Your Grace. Terribly sorry to keep you wai—”

  Marlena turned to see her widowed older cousin, Mrs. Justine Abernathy, waltz into the room with shoulders thrown back, chin arched high, and light-green skirts billowing behind her.

  Chapter 4

  He could be a rake if he tells you he will return to see you rather than ask you if he may call on you again.

  MISS HONORA TRUTH’S WORDS OF WISDOM AND WARNING ABOUT RAKES, SCOUNDRELS, ROGUES, AND LIBERTINES

  Both Marlena and Eugenia rose from the settee as Justine made an abrupt stop.

  Marlena marveled at Justine’s appearance. Surely her gown, cut low across the shoulders, was more suited for a fancy dinner party than an afternoon dress. A smoky-gold topaz dangled from a thick gold chain hung around her neck. Her ash-brown hair had been beautifully arranged on top of her head with multiple braided green ribbons gracing her crown. In one gloved hand she held a handkerchief in the perfect spot so the delicate lace trim would show.

  After looking over the room carefully, Justine stared at Marlena as if she wasn’t quite believing what she was seeing. “I’m sure the Duke of Rathburne was here. When Mrs. Doddle told me I didn’t believe her, so I tiptoed to the top of the stairs and peeped. He was standing in the entryway talking to you. I know it was him. I’ve seen him many times and spoke to him at a ball just last year. He’s divinely handsome.”

  “Yes, he was here. I’m sorry you missed him. He couldn’t stay any longer and had to leave.”

  “Oh,” Justine said, her tall, buxom figure seeming to shrink a little at the disappointing news. “I didn’t think I took that long to change, but perhaps I did. I wanted to look my best. I couldn’t very well come down to receive a duke dressed, dressed—like you, Marlena. My word! What were you thinking to greet a duke in such a simple day dress? You should have made yourself more presentable.” She looked at Eugenia as if she started to say something about her plain gray dress but then, seeming to think better of it, gave her attention back to Marlena. “Our family may not be at the pinnacle of elite Society anymore, because of the unfortunate turn of events for our uncle, but in this house we most certainly know how to present ourselves and behave properly in front of a duke.”


  “Yes, of course we do,” Marlena agreed, remembering how she’d taken the duke to task more than once and argued to remain in St. James. That certainly wasn’t the proper way to behave. But wanting to soothe Justine’s ruffled feathers with the least amount of fanfare possible, she added, “I’m afraid it was unavoidable for both of us. Eugenia had no idea the duke was here when she walked over.”

  “So you met him, too, did you?” Justine asked Eugenia, still sounding a little piqued she missed seeing the duke after getting dressed up to meet him and her neighbor hadn’t.

  “Briefly, Mrs. Abernathy,” Eugenia answered timidly.

  Justine harrumphed and her heavy bosom heaved.

  “And I was outside and came around the corner of the house to see him standing at our front door. It was impossible for me not to see him or he me.”

  “Don’t tell me you were in the garden again!” Justine rolled her dark-green gaze incredulously toward the ceiling and shook her head. “Will you never learn? No, I don’t want to hear it. I don’t suppose I can worry about that now. It’s spilled milk, as we say, and we can’t put it back in the pitcher. I do hate that he couldn’t wait for me after coming over to see me. I shouldn’t have taken so long. We were introduced years ago and I’m quite sure I had a dance or maybe two with him before I wed Wallace. I was much younger then, you understand, and the diamond of the Season that year.”

  Marlena doubted the dance. There was no way she could know for sure, but she guessed the duke to be at least five years younger than Justine if not more. But according to Justine, she was the belle of every ball, the most sought-after widow at every party, and every eligible gentleman in the ton was just one question away from asking for her hand.

  “Did the duke seem too disturbed I didn’t make it down in time to greet him?”

  That man? Disturbed?

  He was too arrogant for such a human emotion.

  “Not in the least,” Marlena said honestly, and a little bit perturbed herself. “And rightly so. The duke should have made an appointment, or at least alerted us by messenger that he planned on paying us a visit. It was in poor taste that he came without making us aware of his intentions to call this afternoon.”

  “It doesn’t matter about that, my dear,” Justine stated, clearly not willing to budge an inch. “A duke can arrive at anyone’s home at any time and be received. You should have immediately excused yourself to go and make yourself presentable.”

  She looked at Eugenia as if to add, both of you.

  Eugenia seemed to take that as her opportunity to leave and said, “If you’ll excuse me, Mrs. Abernathy, Marlena, I think I should be going back home now.”

  Justine nodded once.

  “We’ll talk later, Eugenia,” Marlena whispered as her friend hurried past them with her head down, her chin almost resting on her chest. Turning back to her cousin, Marlena said, “I will take better care with my appearance in the future. I suppose both of us must, as the duke said he’d return another afternoon.”

  “Oh?” Justine’s thick, light-brown brows lifted. She tucked her handkerchief under the sleeve of her cuff as if she were only mildly interested in what Marlena had said. “Yes, of course. I’d expect him to return. Tomorrow?”

  “He didn’t say when. Just that he would.”

  “I would assume tomorrow afternoon or the next. He didn’t get to tell me what it is he wanted of me.”

  Marlena relaxed a little. Her cousin’s softened voice was welcomed. Though Justine was only just past the halfway mark in her thirties, Marlena had never felt closeness between them. Justine wasn’t unkind, her disposition not unpleasant—most of the time—but she was fastidious about routines and didn’t like hers upset—unless, of course, a duke was doing it. Marlena often acquiesced to the older lady’s schedule regarding when they could take a walk in the park, what time they were served dinner, or when they went out to shop for a new bonnet or pair of gloves. After all, even though they were related, she was still a guest in Justine’s house. A paid guest, because Mr. Olingworth compensated Justine for taking care of Marlena.

  Justine’s most annoying trait was that she loved to talk about the past. It was as if she couldn’t enjoy the present for always remembering the time when she was younger. She loved to talk about who had sought her hand and the many offers of marriage she declined her debut year. The list was endless. Almost any subject that came up could cause her to recall something that had happened the year she was an available miss.

  “I’m pleased to hear the duke’s returning,” Justine continued, absently running her fingers over the large topaz. “As I told you earlier, we’ve met before on a number of occasions at various parties. Teas, balls, and the like. And we did have a dance. I’m sure. Though it was a few years ago.” She stopped and smiled as with sweet remembrances. “I was much younger then.” She repeated her earlier statement but didn’t seem to notice. “He was younger, too. I was the diamond of the Season when I made my debut. Everyone said so, and I’m sure he noticed me. I had many gentlemen seeking my attention. Even Viscount Harthill. I suppose I should have married him when I had the chance. If I had I’d be living in a house in Mayfair now and not here in St. James.”

  Marlena knew the story well. Justine loved to tell it over and over again.

  “Of course I couldn’t marry the viscount. He was older than Wallace and not nearly as dashing and handsome. Every young lady wanted Wallace to offer for their hand so I had to accept when he chose me. I mean, I was the diamond of the Season. I had to marry the one gentleman every other young lady wanted.” She sighed. “But I remember the viscount courting me as if it were yesterday.”

  “I’m sure of that, too,” Marlena said, not wanting her cousin to launch into another story from the past.

  Justine touched her hair and then lifted her bosom and her shoulders. “Did His Grace happen to mention why he sought me out?”

  Marlena didn’t know exactly how to answer that question, because Justine wanted to believe he had been there to see her. Noting the letter by the lamp, she picked it up. “It seems the reason he came over was to bring this letter from Mr. Olingworth. After being my guardian for close to ten years, he has signed responsibility for me over to my new guardian, the Duke of Rathburne.”

  “What?” Justine screeched as if a rocker had just been pressed over her bare toes.

  “He came to introduce himself to me.” And ended up doing so much more.

  Marlena rubbed her fingers where the duke’s hand had touched hers when she’d reached for the books he was holding. As if it were happening right now, she felt his fingertips lightly caressing her skin while he untied her ribbon.

  “The duke? Your guardian? He wouldn’t do that. No, I can’t believe it. There must be something wrong.” Justine gave Marlena a skeptical glance and then eyed the letter. “Let me see that.” She took the correspondence from Marlena without waiting for it to be offered. Huffing she said, “You always leave everything to me. How could you know what it says? Thunderbolts and lightning, Marlena, you haven’t even opened it yet.”

  “His Grace told me what it said. I had no reason to doubt his word on something as important as this.”

  “A duke? Of course not, but I’ll see for myself what this is about.” She broke the wax seal and unfolded the pages. Scanning the writing, she began to mumble the words she was reading. Her eyes grew bigger, rounder. Her mumble grew louder.

  Justine looked up at her and smiled. In an instant, she grabbed Marlena and smothered her up to her ample breasts, squeezing Marlena tightly. Her cousin’s perfume had a heavy musky note of pine and evergreen. All the powder she’d added to her neck and shoulders wafted scents of lavender and had Marlena struggling to breathe without taking in the mixture of fragrances.

  “Dear girl! Dear girl! If this is true, the saints have smiled upon us this day. This letter has changed both our lives forever. My cousin. My charge. The ward of a duke! Nothing could make me happier or more f
ortunate.”

  One moment Marlena was gasping for air in her cousin’s strong grasp as she mumbled one sentence after the other and the next she’d been set free and stumbled back. Justine had never been so affectionate. Marlena was stunned.

  Justine’s brows lifted again. “Unless of course if I were his ward, or his … Never mind. Though there is the possibility of that. I do believe he’s interested in me, otherwise he would have simply sent a solicitor to see us. But I must wait for that answer.”

  Somber once again, Justine straightened the neckline of her gown and said, “Yet I suppose we shouldn’t celebrate too much until I speak to the duke myself. I mean I see it is written by Mr. Olingworth but he is ill. We don’t know his state of mind. I really do need to hear from the duke that he’s agreed to do this. I mean I can’t be telling everyone such fortunate news only to find that it isn’t true. I could never live down the embarrassment of such a mistake.”

  “The duke told me he had,” Marlena insisted as she remembered the duke’s strong words and firm expression. “He made it abundantly clear to me it was official and there would be no changing it. He even wanted us to move into his house in Mayfair.”

  “Oh, my, yes! I would expect he’d want us to do that. How utterly heavenly that will be.” Justine clasped her hands together under her chin. “To return to Mayfair where I lived with Wallace and near my dear friend Lady Westerbrook. Yes, it is a dream come true.”

  Marlena knew Justine often talked about the house in Mayfair where she’d lived with her husband and the satisfying social life they’d led. After her husband had died, his uncle, who was Mr. Abernathy’s benefactor, had cut Justine’s allowance in half, and moved her from a larger house in Mayfair into the house in St. James. Maybe the reason Justine talked so often about the past was because she still hadn’t adjusted to the change in social standing among the ton.

  “Of course we’ll move immediately. I’ll have my maid start packing.”