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

by Amelia Grey

  Feeling a prick of guilt to disappoint the cousin who’d been good to her, she said, “Justine, I told him no.”

  “No, what?” Marlena asked with a frown. “We never say no to a duke.”

  “I told him I won’t move to Mayfair.”

  “Doesn’t matter, dear girl,” Justine said, “I want to and the duke wants us to. He offered us his home and you can’t tell him no. I won’t allow it.”

  “I’m sorry, Justine.” Marlena took no pleasure in remaining firm on this, but she had to stay near Eugenia and finish the scandal sheet through this Season. “I know you would enjoy it but I wouldn’t. I have declined and he’s agreed. The matter is settled already. I may have to change guardians but I refuse to change houses, too.”

  Justine stared pensively at Marlena and looked as if she might say more on the subject but instead said, “Well, we’ll leave it at that for now. As I said, we will tell no one about any of this until I speak to the duke.”

  “Thank you for understanding,” Marlena said quietly.

  “Of course,” Justine said and sniffed loudly. “We’ll stay here. Poor Mr. Olingworth has done right by you all these years. We shall never forget him. A sad thing for him to have passed, I know. But we won’t dwell on that, will we, my dear? This news of your new guardian is too exhilarating and should be given its due significance.”

  “Justine, no. Mr. Olingworth hasn’t passed on. He’s still with us as of now. It’s just that he is making arrangements for my future while he still can.”

  “Oh. Well. Even better for the poor soul. How thoughtful of him to keep you out of the hands of the Chancery Court. Now, that would have been madness. Dreadful. There’s no telling who they might have chosen as your guardian. You can’t trust the lot of them. It’s all about giving favors to their cronies and to whomever slips them the most money.”

  “I think I would have been better off,” Marlena answered quickly. “I doubt they would have selected someone for me with the reputation of the Duke of Rathburne.”

  “It’s true. They wouldn’t have even considered asking a duke at all. The titled don’t usually bother with such matters unless a very close relative is involved. That’s why I must hear everything from the duke. I will speak to him about how this came about. It’s probably because he remembers me from our dance and wanted to help me. I was the diamond of the Season, you know.”

  Marlena knew. She’d heard it several times a day since she’d come to live with Justine. At first Marlena thought she’d get used to the constant reminder. But that day hadn’t come.

  “I’ll find out everything,” Justine continued. “First, did you tell Eugenia why the duke was here?”

  “Yes, of course. I tell her everything. You know that.”

  “I do. That is why you must head over to the Portingtons’ house right now and make sure Eugenia knows she must not tell a soul about this. She’s probably already told her sister and Mr. Portington, too, but make certain they know they must keep quiet about this.”

  “Justine, I don’t think we need worry about that. They would never tell anything heard in this house.”

  Her cousin raised her eyebrows and said, “We won’t take any chances. This will be my news to tell when the time is right. I’ll probably tell Lady Westerbrook first. She’d like that and she can help me make a list of who to inform. Now you run along next door. I can’t have them spreading this news before we are ready. We must do a little celebration tonight. Some amount is necessary, appropriate even.” She stopped and shook her head as she looked at the hem of Marlena’s dress. “And then up to your room and change. I see a smudge of dirt on your skirt. No doubt from the garden. I can tell by the color in your cheeks.”

  There hadn’t been a ray of sunshine all day. It wasn’t the sun that had put flush to Marlena’s complexion. It was the duke.

  Though Marlena knew she spent too much time outside, she tried to always wear a wide-brimmed hat even when there was no sparkling sunshine but … she often looked up at the sky, even if only to watch the dark gray thunder clouds to determine how long she could stay out before the raindrops started falling.

  “I hope the duke didn’t see the soil on the hem of your dress,” Justine continued. “And I do hope that you will stay out of the garden now that it appears you have such an esteemed benefactor. I’m going to tell Mrs. Doddle we’ll need a special dinner tonight. We’re going to dine and celebrate as we did when I was younger.” She stopped and smiled pleasantly as her bare shoulders lifted and her chest stuck proudly out once more. “You are under the protection of a duke. Which means I am, too, because I am the family member in charge of you. A duke! How good can one’s life get? Tell me I am not dreaming. No, don’t tell me.” She turned to walk out.

  “But wait,” Marlena called to her. “Justine, doesn’t it trouble you at all that such a man, a rake, a scoundrel, a rogue, and a libertine, will have control over my life?”

  Justine blinked, clearly not expecting such a reaction from Marlena. “Not in the least. I’m sure he’s all that you say he is and more. Thunderbolts and lightning, dear girl, what’s the problem? He’s going to be your guardian, not your husband.”

  “And I thank the angels who watch over me for that,” Marlena murmured under her breath.

  “So what are you worried about?” Justine’s brows went up again and she seemed to be studying over something while she fingered the topaz again. “Though I can’t say it would be horrible if he has designs on me. And I think he might. I mean he wants to see me. And I have been married and know how to please a man.”

  Marlena gasped.

  Justine cupped her hands under her breasts and lifted them up and then touched her hair. “Well, I won’t say more on that subject. Such talk is not for your tender ears. Now please go next door before Veronica and Eugenia start gossiping and then do change into a gown. We are dining tonight as the elite of Society do. We have returned to it, my dear, and high time. We shall enjoy every moment of it while His Grace makes his intentions known to me and finds you a suitable husband. He probably already has someone in mind for you. Having the Duke of Rathburne as your guardian just made you the diamond of the Season as I was a few years ago—not too many years ago, mind you. We must rejoice!”

  Justine laughed heartily as she floated out of the room. Marlena grimaced and folded her arms across her chest. The words her cousin spoke seeped into her soul.

  A husband.

  What would she do with a husband?

  And what would she do with Miss Honora Truth’s Weekly Scandal Sheet?

  Chapter 5

  He could be a rake if he goes to an inappropriate establishment and enjoys himself.

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

  On impulse, Rath opened the door to Miss Lola’s Lacy Linens and Finer Things, surprised that with all his experiences he hadn’t entered the den of frippery before. He strode inside with his usual confident step, taking off his hat as he entered. He was immediately assailed with intimate recollections from his ne’er-do-well past. The fragrances of prior conquests and mistresses assailed him at once, and momentarily he thought he’d entered into a hornet’s nest of spurned lovers gathered to welcome him back into their arms.

  His initial response was short-lived as he began to mentally sort the perfumes scenting the air and realized they were all illusion and not actual women.

  The heady scents of warm honey, earthy minerals, summer vines, and sweet trumpet flowers seemed to explode throughout the room. There were too many different fragrances contained within these walls to distinguish them all, but he did briefly reflect on his past, with an almost visible wince of regret.

  Moving forward, he didn’t really know what he’d expected when he entered, but it hadn’t been the explicit displays of provocative stays, silk stockings, sheer shifts, and enough lace to fill the cargo hull of a merchant’s ship. Clearly everything inside was made for the prec
ise purpose of setting a man’s heart to beating faster and feeding his primal appetite for the fairer sex.

  The shop, while not small, was overpowered by all the frills. Ornate handheld mirrors and silver hairbrushes, jeweled combs, and fancy gossamer gloves all graced chairs, tables, desks, and paintings that hung on the walls. Scattered among them were lace and beads woven in between the delicate items. Low-burning lamps added a soft golden glow to the room.

  Obviously everything was meant to enhance and entice a lady’s desire to please a man.

  Rath had never seen so many feminine trappings under one roof and grew more intrigued by the second.

  Thank you, Miss Fast, for the unknowing nudge.

  He allowed his thoughts to stray … envisioning her ivory skin wrapped in nothing but a lace garland and shimmering pearls. Her glossy hair cascading across her shoulders and touching her waist where its slender nip beckoned his kiss.

  “May I help you, sir?” A woman’s voice stopped his fantasy cold, although the evidence of such in his breeches didn’t immediately catch up.

  Damnation.

  He quickly shifted the hold on his hat to a more advantageous placing. Turning, he saw an older, attractive woman walking toward him. She could have been wearing her shop. Her dress was the color of lilacs and had what seemed to be mountains of lace around the neckline and at the cuffs of her sleeves.

  “Miss Lola, I presume.” His greeting held warmth and regard. An enterprising woman was one he held in esteem.

  “You presume correctly, sir.”

  “Rath. Duke of Rathburne.”

  “My correction, Your Grace,” she said with a curtsy. Her smile was easy. Genuine. “We don’t get many gentlemen in the shop. Titled or not.”

  He liked her instantly and gave a half snort, half laugh. Rather than prolong the moment, he questioned, “Do you carry smelling salts or must I find them in the apothecary?”

  “If you’ll forgive me, Your Grace, you don’t look the fainthearted type. But I won’t ask questions, and yes, I do indeed sell spirits to revive an attack of vapors.”

  Rath liked the woman’s attitude, too. That she was industrious and wasn’t going to let even a surprising customer walk out the door without putting in a good effort to make a sale was commendable. He didn’t know much about smelling salts and sachets. Most of the women he knew weren’t likely to faint at hearing his name or anything else.

  He followed her to the back of the shop and caught a whiff of wildflowers as he passed an open drawer. He thought of Miss Fast again. He imagined her running through a field of tall yellow and blue blossoms, letting her fingers float along the tops of the blooms while her golden-red hair bounced on the back of her shoulders. A much more appropriate thought than his first but just as intoxicating and real.

  The shopkeeper stopped in front of a long, cluttered chest where small bottles were placed among dainty satin balls, squares, and triangles all stuffed like little pillows with ribbons sewn on them so they could be hung around the wrist. That would be convenient for Miss Fast’s frail friend. And no surprise to him, they were all neatly nestled among a cutting of sheer cloth, lace, and beads.

  “Anything on this table would be appropriate for what you have in mind,” she said, waving her hand from one end to the other. “They are guaranteed to rouse the deepest of fainters or to calm the slightest feeling of the vapors without causing a headache.”

  Miss Lola picked up a light-blue bottle with a fancy pewter top and opened it. She offered it for him to sniff, but Rath held up his hand and backed away. Even at a distance there was no doubt the vial had a strong scent of ammonia.

  “Enough.” He leaned away. “That would rouse a bear from hibernation in the middle of winter.” He didn’t know of a flower, fruit, or wood that could hide that scent or make it more pleasant to the nose.

  “It does do what’s needed in precarious situations,” she assured him.

  “Give me three of the bottles and three of the wrist pillows, too. I have a feeling this young lady seems to find herself in precarious situations more often than not.”

  “Very good, Your Grace. Can I tempt you to purchase one bottle of fragrance? Straight from the perfumeries in France. You know a lady can never have too much perfume.”

  Marlena came easily to Rath’s mind yet again. He remembered her walking up to him, the wide-brimmed hat framing her lovely face, the perfectly tied bow under her chin, and the warm smile she gave him. Later, when she’d walked past him, he’d caught the scent of fresh-cut herbs, the earth, fresh air—a wholesome life. She wouldn’t be one to wear perfume of any fragrance. Though for a moment, the thought of her using a liberal dose of rose water before going into the garden made him smile. There wouldn’t be imaginary bees, wasps, and ladybugs dancing around her cheeks if she did that. They’d be real insects wanting to light on her.

  “No perfume,” he said.

  “I understand. It’s not for everyone. I’ll take care of these for you at the counter.” She picked up two of the bottles and two sachets. “I’ll come back for the others.”

  “No need. I’ll help you with them,” he said and tucked his hat under his arm. He picked up the other bottle and three more of the satin pillows. If a lady couldn’t have too much perfume, she couldn’t have too many sachets, either.

  After his purchases had been secured in a fancily trimmed package of lace and ribbons that no man would want to walk through Town carrying, he shrugged. The deed had been done. Time to make a hasty exit. But suddenly a bell chimed as the door opened and feminine chatter overtook the shop.

  Familiar voices.

  His stomach tightened. His steps slowed. Stopped.

  The Duchess of Griffin and the Duchess of Hawksthorn walked inside, not looking in his direction at all, but immediately heading for a display of underclothing.

  The wives of his two best friends and ladies he adored.

  “Oh, look at these?” Loretta said. “These weren’t here last time we were in.” She picked up a gossamer-fine chemise, held it next to her body, and said, “What do you think of this?”

  “That there’s hardly anything to it,” Esmeralda answered. “You can see right through it, but Hawk will love it.” She then studied a very lacy corset and pondered, “I wonder if this will fit me?”

  “Try it and see,” Loretta suggested.

  And then the ladies turned toward the counter and saw him. Loretta jerked the chemise behind her, and Esmeralda threw down the corset as if it had been a hot poker. They both stared at him in disbelief. With good reason, admittedly. He probably should have paid a little more attention to his gut instinct and kept walking when he saw the shop, but he’d let what Miss Fast needed rule his decision.

  Esmeralda’s golden-brown eyes widened, and Loretta’s dark-blue orbs were firmly fixed on Rath’s neckcloth rather than his face. Both of the ladies’ delicate cheeks had turned a shade of pink. They were clearly horrified to see him, to know he’d seen and heard them. Their combined gasps had Rath wiping the corner of his mouth with his thumb in the hope of hiding his amusement. Perhaps they thought he’d never seen a pair of silk stockings, a lacy corset, or a see-through shift? By the saints, he’d probably loosened more stays and rolled down more stockings than the two of them had put together.

  Be that as it may, the way Rath saw it, he had two choices. He could be himself or be as uncomfortable as the ladies were at catching him among the unmentionables and continue his hasty exit.

  The choice was easy.

  Rath had never been one to shy away from a situation just because it was awkward, and he’d never been one to stand on ceremony with friends. Besides, he wouldn’t be the rake Society considered him to be if he let this situation pass so easily.

  He didn’t try to hide beneath his coat or lay aside his purchase onto the shop counter. In fact, looping a ribbon through his forefinger, he tauntingly swung the box as if it were a clock’s pendulum keeping perfect time.

  He smiled and
said, “Esmeralda.” He bowed and then reached for her gloved hand. She slowly gave it. He kissed the back of her palm and said, “You’re looking lovely this afternoon. How is Griffin?”

  Without waiting for an answer, he immediately turned to Loretta and did the same thing, after she managed to wiggle the chemise enough that Esmeralda got the hint and took it from the hand she was holding behind her back, so she could extend it to Rath for his waiting kiss. “And how are you two fetching creatures today?”

  Esmeralda finally took the first bite of conversation and said, “I must say it’s a bit of a surprise—”

  “Shock,” Loretta finished.

  “Indeed. To find you in here.”

  “Oh?” he responded, in no way deterred by the awkward shift in their stances.

  He looked from one lady to the other. Their gazes kept sweeping down to stare at the purchase he’d made—both curious but neither daring to ask him what he’d bought.

  Esmeralda turned to Loretta. “You know, I don’t believe I see what I was looking for today. I’d like to try another shop.”

  “I was thinking the same thing,” Loretta said just as quickly with relief washing down her lovely face. “If you’ll excuse us, Rath, we’ll take our leave.”

  He should bid them farewell without question or comment. It was the gentlemanly thing to do, but the rake inside him wouldn’t acquiesce to the polite rules of Society. He’d never been any good at following them anyway, so why change now.

  Even if Esmeralda and Loretta hadn’t known about his reputation, his penchant for ignoring rules, before today, his presence in this shop proved his aversion to what others deemed proper. He knew letting them leave without further words or more embarrassment was the right thing to do, especially since they were the wives of his best friends and he’d dined in their homes on many occasions—but that’s also what made detaining them a little longer all the merrier.

  Besides, a little playful diversion might help settle their rattled nerves at seeing him in such an inappropriate place.