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

by Amelia Grey

  “I did go to see the man right away.” Rath leaned forward and put his elbows on his knees. “I had all intentions of forsaking my honor and going back on my word to take responsibility for her no matter how much the man might plead for me not to. Surely he would understand what a mistake he’d made in asking and me in accepting. I was not suitable to take care of a young lady and I was determined not to be swayed.”

  “I hear a silent but at the end of that sentence.”

  “With good reason,” Rath admitted. “Olingworth was so ill it was impossible for me to disavow the commitment I’d accepted. He could hardly draw a breath but kept trying to—thanking me for accepting her guardianship, telling me how strong-minded yet sweet she was, and all I wanted him to do was stop trying to talk and breathe at the same time. I had to leave things as they were.”

  “So it was that bad?”

  Worse.

  Rath settled back in the chair and sipped his brandy again. It wasn’t a scene he wanted to repeat. Ever. Miss Fast had told him she wanted to go see Mr. Olingworth but he wouldn’t allow it. Rath could understand the man not wanting her to see him in that condition. Not wanting anyone to see him.

  “What’s her name?” Griffin asked, swirling the small amount of drink in the bottom of his glass.

  “Marlena Fast. She’s from a respectable family. Her dowry is small, but I’ll enhance it.”

  “Is she pleasant to look at?” Hawk asked.

  Very, and spirited, and wholesome, and quite bold.

  “Yes,” Rath answered.

  “So you have no reason to think you’ll have a problem helping her make a match?”

  Rath swallowed hard. Miss Fast getting married wasn’t something he wanted to think about, either. It didn’t matter that doing exactly that was his primary duty for her welfare—finding a husband to take care of her the rest of her life. He turned his head and gazed at the fire through the brandy in his glass. It reminded him of the colors that heightened her cheeks. When he’d touched them, they were as soft as he’d imagined they’d be. None of the scents in Miss Lola’s shop could compare to the natural, womanly scent of Miss Fast.

  He probably shouldn’t have told her he wanted to kiss her, but he was glad he had. She needed to know he was attracted to her. It was best she be wary of him. A nudge of admiration flared through him and along with it a hint of a smile. She was clearly up to the task of keeping him away—with a handkerchief!

  “There should be no reason she can’t make a good match,” Rath said with no enthusiasm for the task. “She does have a determined streak. If she decides no man will suit, I have no doubt she won’t accept any offers no matter how good they might be. But I gave up long ago trying to figure out a lady’s mind.”

  “Yet you went into a ladies’ shop today,” Griffin said casually. “Did you hope to find some answers in there?”

  At last his friends had gotten around to the real reason they were in his home.

  “You do know what you did was tantamount to a lady entering a gentleman’s club and walking around looking at all the men assembled there, don’t you?” Hawk added.

  “If I didn’t, I certainly do now,” Rath quipped, making light of his venture into the private world of ladies’ underclothing.

  “You do also know there are just some places a man and a woman shouldn’t be seen together?”

  Rath had no idea how much Esmeralda and Loretta had told their husbands, but he was fairly sure Griffin and Hawk hadn’t wanted him watching their wives looking at unmentionables. He had to admit that part of their meeting was a little disconcerting to him, too. He thought of the duchesses as he did Hawk and Griffin’s sisters. Having no siblings of his own, they were his family. Otherwise, he would have never annoyed them, but done the proper gentlemanly thing and walked past them without showing a smidgen of recognition.

  In truth, he didn’t think they would have liked that any more than he would have.

  “My father tried hard to make a gentleman out of me, but as no one knows better than you two, he didn’t succeed.” Rath shrugged. “Besides, if they only wanted certain people to enter the shop, they should put a lock on the door or station an attendant at the front to keep out interlopers and lurkers as the clubs do.”

  Griffin snorted. “They probably thought there’d never be a chance in hell a gentleman would ever be brave enough to walk through the door of such an establishment.”

  Hawk smiled. “Why the devil did you?”

  His best friends were having a good time at his expense. He’d done the same to their wives so he really couldn’t say anything. Rath would let it pass and take his due. Besides, it was better than them being fighting mad at him.

  “Smelling salts are for ladies,” he defended. “I needed some and it seemed the perfect place to get them.”

  “Did you think about stopping by the apothecary?” Hawk asked. “Or asking your housekeeper to take care of getting them for you?”

  No, to both questions.

  “It was an impulsive decision,” Rath admitted with no shame. “I was walking by, saw the sign, and entered. Damnation, do you think I’d have gone inside if I’d had any idea that your wives would be entering later? Or that the shop had such, such—”

  “What?” his friends said in unison.

  Thinking quickly, he said, “—an array of smelling salts and sachets, which is exactly what I went in for.” He would not mention the sheer fabrics and mountains of lace fashioned to titillate a man’s natural desires. “However, I’m sorry if I embarrassed and upset either of Esmeralda or Loretta by being in there and talking to them rather than passing by as if they were not right in front of my eyes.”

  “Upset?” Hawk questioned.

  Griffin huffed a laugh. “They weren’t upset.”

  “Loretta was laughing when she told me about the expression on your face when you saw her holding an undergarment, and she tried to hide it from you.”

  My face? What about hers?

  “Esmeralda said you were so surprised your package was shaking in your hands.”

  What little mischiefs their wives were to get back at him in such a fashion.

  The ladies had turned the tables on him and told the story so that he was the one uncomfortable and awkward. How clever. He should have known, or at least suspected, they would. Neither Griffin nor Hawk would have married a lady who wasn’t up to the challenge of taking on a man no matter the situation or where they were. Still, he was quite impressed they had thought to make him the one unnerved by the chance meeting.

  Rath eyed both men carefully. They were telling the truth as they knew it. So be it. He was all right with however the ladies explained the encounter to their husbands. He would never contradict the two duchesses.

  “Esmeralda was amused about the incident,” Griffin said, “though she admitted to being a bit astonished to see you in there at first.”

  Horrified at first is more like it.

  “She said that after a moment or two you collected yourself and the three of you had a nice conversation.”

  I had to collect myself?

  “Loretta admitted she didn’t know if she’d ever go into that shop again,” Hawk said. “She had no idea you frequented the place.”

  He was pretty sure he’d learned his lesson about entering a lady’s domain, too.

  “That would be a shame for Miss Lola. There are some very desirable things in there.”

  “Yes, but apparently they both said they didn’t want to be looking at ladies’ undergarments at the same time you or any other man was looking at them.”

  Rath held up his drink to his friends and gave them a toast. “On that we all agree.”

  “Why were you needing smelling salts?” Griffin asked. “Is your new mistress prone to the vapors?”

  “I have no mistresses at the moment and am quite content on my own for now.” Rath had grown tired of their constant desire to please him and the fact there was no challenge in his relationshi
ps with them. “The smelling salts are another long story.”

  They both gave him the same expression as when he’d said becoming Miss Fast’s guardian was a long story, and Hawk quipped, “Those are the kind that are always best told over a glass of brandy and in front of a warm fire among friends.”

  “And maybe it is long but I have a feeling it won’t be boring,” Griffin reminded him.

  “Your exploits never are,” Hawk added. He rose from the settee and walked over to Rath’s decanter without seeking permission. He brought it back and poured a splash into each of the three glasses before replacing it and then returning to his seat. “We have nowhere to go, so take all the time you need to tell us about it.”

  “But before we get to that story,” Griffin said with all seriousness as he once again leaned forward in his seat, “I have one burning question that I must ask.”

  Ah, as Rath suspected. They were interested in knowing what kind of things were in Miss Lola’s shop after all. He’d be very careful what he said, given that Esmeralda and Loretta had already reshaped what had happened to suit their desires. And it wasn’t as if there was anything in the shop that Hawk and Griffin hadn’t ever seen before, if maybe not in such an abundance of embellishments, scents, and styles. But he’d be willing to tell them a few details.

  “Ask away,” Rath said and took another sip of his drink. “After all these years with you two, I have nothing to hide.”

  Griffin’s eyes narrowed and his brow wrinkled with determination as if he had to get to the bottom of something pressing. “Do you really think Esmeralda should buy a silk chemise in peacock blue?”

  Rath sprayed brandy all over the toes of their boots and the floor, too.

  All three of the rakes burst into laughter.

  My Dear Readers,

  Though the wintry days of Christmastide are long past, it’s with good tidings of great joy I bring you the latest scandalbroth scattering throughout the clubs, homes, streets, and parks around London like flakes of falling snow. It’s time to stir your imaginations and make you pant for springtime and the approaching Season. I have it on the most authoritative source available that the Duke of Rathburne, the only bachelor left of the Rakes of St. James, is now guardian to a young lady set to make her debut this spring. Perhaps he thought he didn’t have to worry about revenge against him because he had no sister. Now he has a ward. I am fortunate enough to know her name and will share it: Miss Marlena Fast. So not only will we have the Duke of Griffin’s unmarried sister, Lady Vera, attending her third Season, we now have the ward of the Duke of Rathburne. We will be watching and listening to be the first to know if either young lady settles on a husband this year. We will also be keeping our concentration steady on the rumor that was first repeated here two years ago to see if there will be revenge against the rakes heaped upon Lady Vera or Miss Fast—innocent though they are—for the dukes’ past deeds.

  MISS HONORA TRUTH’S WEEKLY SCANDAL SHEET

  Chapter 10

  He could be a rake if he doesn’t understand that it doesn’t take much to make a lady cry.

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

  Though it was unnatural for her, Marlena was nervous.

  For more than one reason. First, there was the duke. He’d consumed her thoughts. Marlena hadn’t been able to get him off her mind since, in a moment of disquiet at the prospect of such a forbidden act as a kiss, she’d thrust his handkerchief between the two of them to avoid it when she’d very much wanted the kiss.

  She kept asking herself why she hadn’t let their lips touch when she had been so eager to do exactly that. She’d thought about kisses before. With gentlemen who had no defined features. Now she had a face in her thoughts and fanciful notions. It was the duke’s roguishly handsome features that confronted her, and they wouldn’t leave her alone and give her peace.

  Surely it wouldn’t have been so horrible to have allowed one little buss. If she had, the mystery of it would be solved. End of the story the way it was when she’d been in the woods with her cousins and they looked under a dead tree branch to see what insects were crawling around beneath it or when she’s explored the attic of Mr. Olingworth’s house. Surely there was nothing wrong in simply satisfying one’s curiosity about something that was unknown. She’d know how it felt to have a man’s lips pressed against hers. She kept asking herself why she hadn’t let the kiss happen. Why had she placed the handkerchief between them?

  And then there was the other reason Marlena was nervous today. Miss Honora Truth. Her latest scandal sheet had come out earlier today. The first since the duke became her guardian. Eugenia was on her way to buy one at the bookshop she and Marlena frequented, and to casually ask how Words of Wisdom and Warning was selling.

  Or if it is selling.

  Marlena was waiting for Eugenia to return by using one of Justine’s annoying habits. Pacing in front of the fireplace and occasionally mumbling to herself.

  When Marlena, Eugenia, and Veronica had first started this venture into the gossip writing world, they’d decided that Marlena must never be seen buying a copy of the scandal sheet, in the hope she could never be connected to it. And Eugenia seldom purchased one, but Marlena wanted to see this one in print.

  She hadn’t been this worried since the third or fourth one hit the streets. The one where she’d mentioned the rumor Mr. Bramwell had started at White’s. That’s when the sales of the sheet seemed to take off.

  After the duke had left her house a couple of days ago, she knew exactly what she had to write. Once that decision was made it wasn’t difficult to finish. The strange thing was that she’d never written about herself. She would be seeing her name in print and not someone else’s. She’d never suspected she’d have a reason to write about herself.

  In fact, she’d never written about anyone she’d ever met or had even seen until she’d met the duke. Now that she could put a face and a personality to the Duke of Rathburne’s name, everything about the short weekly column seemed different. What had seemed more like a made-up story about people she didn’t know was suddenly very real.

  She’d quickly finished the piece and handed it over to Eugenia to give to her maid, but Marlena had worried about it ever since. She’d had to mention herself and the duke. She couldn’t let a whole week pass without doing it. By then it would already be all over town that she was the Duke of Rathburne’s ward. Justine was seeing to that. If she didn’t get it to print, the gossip would be considered interesting but old news. Sales would go down and the monthly payment for Eugenia and Veronica would be less. She couldn’t let that happen.

  There had been no other options to consider. Once Justine had heard from the duke himself that Mr. Olingworth’s letter was indeed true, she couldn’t contain her excitement any longer. The very next day she was out all afternoon visiting with Lady Westerbrook and Mrs. Barnes; she had even called on the Duke of Griffin’s unmarried sister, Lady Vera. The two had met at parties, but Justine admitted she didn’t know Lady Vera well. Yet Justine wanted the duke’s sister to know Marlena would be entering Society and they would look forward to having her over for tea at an appropriate time during the Season.

  Marlena was already dreading the prospects of that meeting and many others when she started attending the afternoon card parties, balls in the Great Hall, at Almack’s, and too many other social occasions to think about. She’d written about Lady Vera, and her twin sister, Lady Sara, before she married. Marlena didn’t write about anyone once nuptials were said. And it wasn’t that she’d ever written anything truly bad about the twins. She hadn’t.

  Though Marlena wasn’t guiltless by any means. She’d been behind the rumor that had Society thinking there might be retaliation against the twins because of their brother’s past misdeeds. That gossip had probably disturbed Lady Sara and Lady Vera’s Season. Thankfully, nothing had ever happened to the twins. She hadn’t expected it to. They were sister
s of a duke. Who would be foolish enough to try and harm them or even ruin their Season?

  Marlena had never been happy with herself for asking Mr. Bramwell to start that rumor. And she had expected to stop writing the column after the first Season, but Eugenia and Veronica’s plight continued to get worse not better as she’d hoped. She couldn’t bring herself to stop helping them.

  Now that the time was drawing near, Marlena wasn’t looking forward to meeting anyone she’d written about. When she started the scandal sheet it hadn’t dawned on her that one day she’d enter Society and be meeting the very people she was gossiping about. Realizing that put an entirely different burden on her—and another measure of guilt, too. Just as she had after the first Season came to a close, Marlena was feeling the need to shut down the column once the upcoming Season was over, and hopefully Eugenia would be betrothed.

  The back door opened and slammed shut immediately. Who would do something like that? Certainly not Eugenia or Justine. Tut went running from the room barking like a fiend. Before she could take the first step to see what was going on, Marlena heard footsteps bounding down the corridor. Veronica came charging around the entryway and into the drawing room. She flung herself face down on the settee and started weeping uncontrollably.

  Tut came back in with her and continued to bark.

  “Veronica, what’s wrong?” Marlena asked, dropping to her knees beside the settee. “What’s happened?”

  There was only more weeping from her friend. Tut put his paws on the settee beside Veronica’s head and barked again. This wasn’t the first time either of them had seen Veronica storm over crying but it always upset Tut when it happened.

  “Shush,” she told her pet. “I’m trying to calm her.” He whimpered at her and then barked again.