by Amelia Grey
“What did you two come in for today?” he asked.
“Silk,” Esmeralda said at the same time Loretta said, “Lace.”
It took great restraint not to smile. If there was one thing this shop had plenty of, it was lace and silk. He knew they’d tell their husbands they’d seen him in here, and he’d catch hell from them for it. It wouldn’t be the first time they’d peppered him with hot coals. Yet opportunities like this didn’t often land in his hands.
“I came in to pick up something for my ward that she needed.” Rath lifted the package to their eye level, innocently bobbing it for their discomfort.
“Ward?” Esmeralda exclaimed.
“Yes. A young lady.”
“You?”
It appeared Esmeralda was finally regaining her composure. “What about me?” he asked inoffensively.
“Shopping for a ward in here.” Loretta added, as indignant as Esmeralda had been. “You’re unsuitable to be responsible for a young lady.”
A feminine, “Yes, quite,” from Esmeralda followed suit. “You must be teasing us.”
Rath enjoyed them taking him to task. Especially now that the duchesses were getting over their astonishment at seeing him and were taking him to task. At first, he thought he’d have to bring out the smelling salts for them. Their demonstration that he lacked abilities to take proper care of Miss Fast didn’t stress him nearly as much as they were anguished at the possibility of him doing it.
“I’m not trying to fool you about this, ladies, and I beg to differ with you on my qualifications to be a responsible guardian. Women like me, and I, in turn, respect and appreciate them.”
“A bit too much, I’d say,” Loretta’s gaze remained fixed on his countenance.
Esmeralda blurted, “How did the poor unfortunate fall under your guardianship?”
“I was asked. By a family friend—who holds me in high regard.” Not quite the whole truth, but close enough. “And as unthinkable as it sounds for me to be responsible for a young lady, I’ve embraced the idea and am ready to take it on.”
“The poor lamb,” Esmeralda whispered.
Loretta didn’t let up, either. “What do you know about being a proper guardian to a young lady?”
“Not much,” he admitted honestly. It was easy to do since he knew the ladies so well.
“Who is she?” Esmeralda asked.
“Miss Marlena Fast. She’s not made her debut and I don’t think you would know of her. She was the ward of my father’s dearest friend. His ill health makes it impossible for him to continue.”
Loretta dug her teeth in and asked, “Rath, have you told our husbands about this outrageous situation?”
“No, but I believe they will hear about this today.” He feigned false encouragement. “I’ll await their gallant responses and their reprimands.”
Fortunately, Miss Fast was the reason he was in here, and she had given him the perfect justification to prolong this conversation a little longer and get him some much-needed help, too.
“I’m glad I ran into you today, Esmeralda.”
Clearly she wasn’t glad to be meeting him in Miss Lola’s shop.
“I was going to stop in at Miss Mamie Fortescue’s Employment Agency later today. I believe you were managing the place when you and Griffin met.”
“Yes,” she said warily. “That’s right.”
“Perhaps you could help me with something and save me the trouble of going by. If you wouldn’t mind?”
“Oh, well, yes, of course, if you need me.” She looked around the room quickly as if to assure herself there was no one else there to watch her continue to converse with a gentleman. “You know I’d be happy to help with anything I can—within reason. What did you have in mind?”
“I’m looking for a finishing governess for my ward.” Now that he’d said the words, he wasn’t sure exactly what they were called. He had little to no experience with a young lady who hadn’t made her debut. The ones he knew were already properly set for Society with all they needed by the time he was introduced to them.
He really didn’t know what went into getting a young lady ready for the Season other than fashions and the coveted invitations to the best parties and teas. There had to be more to it than that. Over the years he’d heard fathers talk about spending small fortunes to get their daughters ready for their debuts into Society and hopefully wedded bliss.
“I need someone who can prepare Miss Fast for the Season. Clothing, invitations to balls, Almack’s. Everything. All of it. Do you know someone to suggest?”
With his sincere request for her help and genuine regard for his ward’s welfare, Esmeralda’s expression turned inquisitive and she asked, “How old is she?”
“Nineteen or twenty, I would say. I didn’t ask. And it’s for this upcoming Season.”
“Oh, well that could be more difficult, Rath. I know several, of course, but whether or not they’d be available on short notice and at this late date, I’m not sure.”
“I’d be most grateful if you could look into it for me. If it’s not too much trouble for you.”
“Not at all.”
“Good, and I’d certainly make it worth the woman’s time and consideration.”
“I’m sure of that. It’s just most of them are already prepping young ladies for this Season, but of course, yes, I’d be happy to see if anyone is available and can assist you. I’ll be in touch about it when I have something to report.”
“Thank you,” he said with a slight bow.
“Rath,” Loretta said with all seriousness, “you know we’re fond of you—but perhaps you should give this duty of responsibility for a young lady over to someone with more experience.”
His brow arched. “Who would you suggest has more experience with ladies and their wants?”
“Ah—with that,” Esmeralda said confidently, “we must be getting on our way.”
“Yes,” Loretta echoed her friend’s sentiments. “We’ve another engagement.”
“Right. And we’re late.”
It was time to put the duchesses out of their misery and let them leave. But the devilish rake rose up inside him once more. It just wasn’t in his nature to deny himself, and he had to say, “Surely you wouldn’t leave without at least looking at the lace and silk?”
Rath reached over and touched a roll of lace. “The stitches are delicate. Must be Irish.” His hand moved to a rack of exotic, flamboyant silks as he looked at Esmeralda. “I can tell you that your husband is quite partial to this shade of peacock blue.”
“Not today,” Esmeralda said, lifting her chin the way only a beautiful duchess could. “We’ve seen enough in here.”
“But we’ll be delighted to move on so you can finish your shopping,” Loretta added and gave him a self-assured smile. “Should I tell Hawk you’ll be over to visit him soon?”
“I’ll expect him to have his best brandy open and ready.”
The duo then departed without further ado, the shop bell finalizing their exit.
Rath’s gaze trailed to the shop owner and he sincerely offered, “My apologies. I likely lost you a sale. Or two.”
“Perhaps, but the exchange was the most interesting I’ve witnessed all week.” Her eyes twinkled.
He laughed. “To make up for my conduct, I’ll take a bottle of your best perfume.”
A little while later Rath gathered his hat and packages and went out the door.
His stride, usually strong and sound, slowed. For a moment he questioned his judgment in this whole honor-bound duty of being a guardian. Being responsible for someone other than himself was a foreign affair. His carefree reputation was inarguable and he definitely wasn’t the most suited to be Miss Fast’s guardian.
But yes, he’d see to it Miss Fast married.
Taking up his swift pace toward his carriage once more, he tried to outrun that thought … because the notion of her married conjured visions of a husband he knew too well.
Himself.
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Chapter 6
He could be a rake if he promises to call on you but never does.
MISS HONORA TRUTH’S WORDS OF WISDOM AND WARNING ABOUT RAKES, SCOUNDRELS, ROGUES, AND LIBERTINES
“Five days,” Justine remarked in a huffing voice and paced in front of the floral-printed settee. “Do you know how long it’s been since the duke graced us, or rather you, with his lofty appearance?”
Oh, yes. Marlena knew exactly how many days it had been and it wasn’t because Justine had reminded her several times. For some reason she hadn’t been able to get the infuriating man out of her mind no matter what book she read, what stitch she made on her embroidery sample, or what score she played on the pianoforte. She kept seeing him with that hint of a smile that had made her heart beat like the splattering of rain storming against a window.
However, Marlena only answered her cousin with an uninterested, “Mmm.”
“It’s shameful really, and I’m quite vexed about it,” Justine continued. “He must know I need to hear from him that Mr. Olingworth’s letter is indeed fact.”
Marlena couldn’t understand Justine not taking her word for it, but she’d stopped trying to convince her and had stayed quiet whenever she’d mentioned it the past several days.
“It’s as if he has no manners nor respect for us, which we know can’t be true. But he obviously hasn’t any time for us. Most certainly because he is a duke and we are the lowly relatives of a disfavored earl. The more I ponder about this the more I’m thinking the duke has no pleasing qualities about him whatsoever.” Justine stopped pacing. “Though he is quite handsome in a roguish sort of way, don’t you think? He dances well, too. And if he does have designs on me, I’d have to consider him.”
Marlena answered with another, “Mmm.” She certainly didn’t want her cousin knowing any of her own thoughts about the duke.
“But that doesn’t make up for the fact I have forgone my afternoon beauty rest, dressed in my beautiful clothing, and had my maid labor over my hair almost beyond endurance every day for a week. And all for naught, mind you.”
“There are seven days in a week, Justine—not five,” Marlena found herself saying.
Her cousin ignored her correction and walked over to the window and looked outside. “Since the duke hasn’t had the civility to come by, communicate by a note, or even send a solicitor to speak to us about what his intentions are for me or his plans for you, perhaps none of this is true.”
“You must give him time,” Marlena answered absently while Tut lay quietly curled at her feet. He was used to Justine’s rantings, too, but that didn’t keep his ears from twitching every so often.
“I have.”
“I’m sure he has many things to take care of throughout the day.”
“Thunderbolts and lightning, Marlena. So do we. Still we take the time to dress in our finest to wait for him to call on us. And he repays us by not coming to our door.”
Marlena tried to ignore her cousin’s rantings and kept working on her column for next week’s Miss Truth’s Scandal Sheet. Justine never questioned Marlena about what or whom she was corresponding with when she was writing at her desk. Putting a quill in her hand and writing a letter, poetry, or even a note of thanks was the last thing Justine wanted to do. However, today had proven she was a master at the spoken word. She’d seldom stopped talking since she’d come belowstairs earlier in the afternoon.
It was difficult for Marlena to believe, but her cousin didn’t even like to read. Justine had always said she was quite happy with her own thoughts and didn’t need to be reading anyone else’s musings. She had plenty of her own to occupy her mind. And if you thanked someone for having you to their party while you were there, she saw no reason to thank them again in a handwritten note later in the week.
Perhaps that was because Marlena had seen her script, and some of her words were truly illegible. Justine had owned up to the fact she’d never had the patience to master the art. The good thing about it was that Justine cared not a fig about how often Marlena picked up a quill to write a few words or what she wrote about. She simply had no interest in the written word, no matter who wrote it—unless, of course, someone wrote to her.
That worked out very well for Marlena not having to worry about her cousin looking over her shoulder with curiosity. Too, Marlena never added the salutation of Dear Readers or her nom de plume at the bottom of the scandal sheet until she wrote the final draft and it was ready to be handed off to Eugenia.
Marlena picked up the wet inked sheet and silently read to herself: The wintry season hasn’t left us but the air is filled with a taste of springtime and a sunny hint of gossip.
No, that wasn’t quite salacious enough to start the column. Her readers wanted more than a hint of gossip. Marlena thought for a moment, then moved farther down the vellum and wrote again: There may be snow clouds still gathering over London’s streets and buildings but the latest rumors will be as welcomed as sunbeams streaking through an icy crusted windowpane.
Marlena studied over that one for a few moments and decided it was better but not completely right, either. She might have to wait until Justine went abovestairs to rest before she came up with something to her liking today. The constant chattering and complaining was distracting. And for some reason it seemed to be wearing on Marlena’s nerves more than usual this afternoon.
No, not some reason. She knew the exact reason. And that in itself was worrisome. She, too, wondered why the duke hadn’t returned as he’d said he would. True, he hadn’t said when he would be back to see them, but Marlena had thought it would have been within a day or two. Three or four at the most, not a day or two less than a week.
She looked up at the top shelf on the secretary. There lay the duke’s handkerchief. Washed, pressed, and folded. There was no starch in it, and Marlena had told Mrs. Doddle to make sure there were no wrinkles in it, either. She wanted to return it to the duke as soft and fresh as it was when he wiped her cheek.
Glancing over at Justine, Marlena saw that her cousin was staring out the front window as if trying to will the duke to show. Marlena picked up the handkerchief and smelled it as she had several times for the past few days. Nothing had changed. All traces of the duke’s subtle, masculine scent were gone, and in its place was the arid smell a hot iron left on fine linen.
Marlena smiled and replaced the handkerchief where it would be easily seen whenever the duke decided to grace them with his presence. Now that it was over, and she could think rationally about what had happened the day they met, it was humorous and made her smile. It really was quite clever of the duke to make her think she had a bee or wasp on her cheek when it was nothing more than soil from the garden. No doubt he was the kind of man who had no problem gingerly teasing a young lady.
But his tactic had also calmed her and helped her realize he wasn’t there to have her arrested for writing about him. And though she was sure it wasn’t his intention, he had vexed her when he untied her ribbon and his warm fingers had touched her throat. She hadn’t stopped thinking about that, either. What surprised her most of all was that there was no meanness, no offensiveness or feeling of being forced to bear what he was doing. His untying the knot for her had not upset her sensibilities.
There was no impression he was being a rake, a scoundrel, or anything other than a man who wanted to help her.
“The duke said he’d get you a premier finishing governess and he hasn’t bothered to do that, either,” Justine complained.
“What?” Marlena asked when her cousin’s words broke into her fond remembrance of the duke. “Not a premier governess, no. I never said that. I doubt there are any available at this late date. He only said that he’d hire someone who knows what to do.”
“A duke can move mountains, dear girl, and we will expect him to do exactly that for us,” she said, walking back over to where Marlena sat. “There’s precious little time left to get you prepared if he wants you to attend the very best parties, teas,
and other events of the Season. Had we only known we could have already been working on obtaining such things, but of course Mr. Olingworth didn’t keep us apprised of what he was thinking or doing so we had no idea there would be plans for you to make your debut this year. We certainly never received any money from him to get you started on your gowns. However, a duke can get whatever he wants and usually when he wants it. Best you remember that.”
“I understand, Justine,” Marlena answered, beginning to feel a little weary from her cousin’s constant talking. “And even I know not much can be done other than clothing until everyone starts returning to London from their winter estates. Now, would you like to go to your bedchamber and rest as you usually do? There’s only half an hour of proper visiting time left in the day. If you’re worried the duke might come by, maybe you should keep on your dress and just be careful how you lie down. That way you’ll be ready quickly should he arrive.”
Justine cupped her hands under her breasts and lifted them up. “I can’t lie down with these stays on. Heaven’s gates, Marlena! They are pulled so tightly I’d probably stop breathing in my sleep.” She touched her hair softly with her hand. “Besides, truth be told, I’ve hardly slept a wink since we heard the Duke of Rathburne is to be your guardian. I’m quite anxious to meet him again. Are you sure he said he’d return? Maybe you misunderstood and we were expected to seek him out for an appointment.”
“I am not wrong on what he said. You are worrying too much. If you don’t want to lie down, why don’t you take a walk in the garden? I noticed some of the shrubs are budding.”
Justine gave her a completely expressionless face. “Have you ever known me to enjoy a walk in the garden, the park, or even the street on a wintry day? Next you’ll be wanting me to look through that tediously dull pamphlet you have from the Royal Horticultural Society that you are so fond of. Why you want to try to pronounce the ridiculously difficult names of what should be just a simple flower’s name is beyond me.”
“You are talking about The Paradisus Londinensis book by Richard Salisbury. And I quite enjoy reading the botanic names of flowers and plants.”