The Duke Dilemma

by Shirley Marks

  Faraday Hall…the place Louise had so often written upon her letters even though it had been some years since she had done so. She was friends, very good friends, with his eldest daughter, Augusta. Goodness—he was Augusta’s father and friend to her nephew, Sir Samuel Pruitt.

  As the gardener, Louise had covered her face to disguise her identity, and it appeared to have worked. Or perhaps it was that he hadn’t exactly looked at her then. Louise could not be entirely sure, but he had seemed distracted.

  For him to discover that she had kept his company while portraying a lowly gardener would put her in an uncomfortable position. The thought of it horrified her, and Louise decided it would be best if their paths did not cross again.

  “We are ready to continue, Lady Vernon,” Lady Gelsthorpe called to her. “Are you…is there a problem?”

  “No.” Louise chided herself for…for everything. How could she have been so…so bird-witted? “I am sorry to keep you waiting. Let us continue, please.” She fell back, following a few steps behind Mrs. Dumfries, who normally trailed their group.

  Louise turned to glance over her shoulder. There was no trace of him. What if she were to come face-to-face with His Grace again? What were the odds?

  Louise did not think that likely. She rarely ventured out of her house. Lady Gelsthorpe had insisted she attend the outing this afternoon. Her book group readings were only a small group of women, the same members with little change year after year. No, Louise was fairly certain meeting the Duke of Faraday again was highly unlikely.

  “Are we agreed it is time to depart?” Lady Gelsthorpe paused, considering those in her party and making the final decision on the matter. She nodded her head. “Very well, we shall leave.”

  Louise made her way to the portal with her small group, distressed that an introduction through Augusta was a possibility. At present she lived in Sussex and the opportunity of a Town visit, especially with her little ones to raise, seemed small. Sir Samuel was acquainted with His Grace, but then again the chance Louise would encounter the Duke through that avenue was even more remote.

  The Duke had returned the key to her gate, leaving him no access to her garden. Why, for heaven’s sake, would he ever wish to return?

  This was silly. Louise was causing herself undue distress for no reason at all.

  Really, truly, she was overreacting; there was nothing for her to worry about.

  Louise returned home within the hour. Hers was the first stop Lady Gelsthorpe’s carriage made. It would then continue on to deliver Mrs. Dumfries and Lady Ashton to their residences and finally arrive at Lady Gelsthorpe’s home, Benchley.

  “Good afternoon ta ya, milady.” Betty opened the front door, admitting Louise into the townhouse.

  “Thank you, Betty.” Louise stepped inside and removed her gloves. She had every intention of attending her garden this afternoon since the warmest part of the day was still to come.

  “There’s a letter for you. It’s in the silver tray on the foyer table, there.”

  Louise recognized Lady Augusta’s script three paces away. The sight of the missive brought a smile to her face and, at the same time, hesitation to her breath. Correspondence from her friend would be just the thing to brighten her day, but the reminder of her friend’s connection to the Duke of Faraday caused Louise some residual concern.

  “We be having some broth, bread, and meat pie this evening for dinner, milady,” the maid called out.

  “That sounds fine, Betty.” Louise retrieved the letter before heading to her bedchamber to change into her work clothes and head out to her garden.

  Climbing the stairs, she reflected on how well the ladies’ group suited her. Louise also had family members and some friends with whom she corresponded on a frequent basis, Lady Augusta being one of them. Rebecca met Louise upon entering her bedchamber, where she handed the lady’s maid her gloves and reticule.

  “My work clothes, if you please, Rebecca.” Louise broke the seal on the missive, unfolded the paper, and read:

  My dear Lady Vernon,

  I hope this letter finds you well. I cannot tell you how fortuitous that you have cut short your stay with your sister and returned home. I have traveled to Town, for a fortnight or so, and you shall find me at Worth House—

  Augusta was in London? Louise stared up from the letter. And perhaps even worse, Lady Augusta knew Louise lived only a few blocks away. Scanning down toward the end of the note, Louise read:

  I beg that you come to tea Monday afternoon, if it is at all possible. At that time I can introduce you to my other family members. We all shall be quite delighted to meet you.

  Yours very affectionately, Augusta

  Other family members…what others? Did she refer to her father? Louise found it difficult to take a breath. The entire idea of her going to Worth House, into the home of the man she did not wish to see under any circumstances, well…it was too disturbing to contemplate.

  Only a few hours ago she thought meeting the Duke of Faraday as remote as her traveling to the North Pole…now she was faced with the possibility of taking tea with him in his home. No, under no circumstances could Louise accept. She glanced down at the missive—but how could she refuse? Louise dearly wished to see Augusta again, and to decline the invitation would be unthinkable. What was she to do?

  “Here are your frock and apron.” Rebecca had returned with the garments draped over her arm and held her shoes, stockings, and large-brimmed hat.

  “Thank you.” Louise carefully folded the letter and tucked it beneath a book sitting on her nightstand. She removed her hat and laid it on her dressing table.

  There was a scratch at the door, and Rebecca went to answer at once, while Betty stood by her side.

  “I beg your pardon, ma’am,” she began. “Mrs. Templeton is here to call on you. Shall I tell her you’re not at home?”

  Daphne, here? “No, I’ll see her.” Why did everything seem to happen all at once? Louise turned to her maid. “This will have to wait, Rebecca.”

  “Naturally.” The maid laid her mistress’s work clothes aside.

  “Shall I ’ave Dora fix a tea tray, milady?”

  “Yes, Betty, thank you.” Louise glanced into the mirror, not that she had time to make any repairs to her appearance, only to reassure herself she did not bear any resemblance to the turmoil she felt inside.

  “I put Mrs. Templeton in the front parlor, ma’am,” Betty informed her. “Dora ’nd me set it to rights. We thought maybe you might be needin’ a proper place if your gentlemen friend were to come ’round again.”

  Louise felt a blush warm her cheeks. “The front parlor will do, thank you.” She soon traveled belowstairs to greet her visitor.

  “How good it is to see you, Daphne.” Louise entered the newly restored front parlor and welcomed her friend. Mrs. Templeton’s bonnet sported three fat white feathers and an extremely oversized bright blue velvet bow that matched the frogging on her Egyptian brown carriage dress. “I had no idea you’d returned.”

  “You’re one to talk. I hadn’t expected to see you for another two months.” Daphne Templeton held her reticule tight in her gloved hands.

  “Please be seated. We have a tea tray on its way.” Louise wished her friend to stay for a nice long visit. Callers were few and their visits infrequent, with the exception of the last three days.

  “How very lovely,” Mrs. Templeton replied, and moved to one of the red-and-gold-striped chairs. “I’m certain I do not need to tell you there’s a decided chill in the air.”

  “Indeed you do not. I’ve just returned from the Art Exhibition at Somerset House. Lady Gelsthorpe brought Lady Ashton, Mrs. Dumfries, and Miss Dillingham along as well.”

  “Oh, I’m sorry to have missed that outing,” Mrs. Templeton lamented. “I do love to see new artists’ work. There are so many talented people, are there not?”

  “Yes, there were a great many wonderful pieces to see.” Louise heard the rattle of the tea tray outside th
e parlor. “It was an exceptional visit.”

  Mrs. Templeton’s white plumes waved with the turn of her head. Betty crossed the threshold with their refreshment, and the two women fell silent.

  “Do tell me, ma’am,” Mrs. Templeton began after the maid left, “what of our ladies’ literary group?”

  “We have begun a new novel called Emma,” Louise informed her. “But only just.” She expected that Lady Gelsthorpe would prove to be as generous to Mrs. Templeton as she had been to Louise in offering for her to read the first volume up to the point where the ladies had ended at their last meeting. Then she would have the honor of reading the next chapter aloud to them all. “It is written by the same author who penned Pride and Prejudice.”

  Edward was finally on his way home. Safely ensconced in his transport, headed away from Danbury Place after returning the three ladies, he tried not to think about the number of hours he had spent entertaining his daughter’s in-laws. Even though there were no disagreements between the ladies, he could not consider the outing enjoyable. It had been abundantly clear to him that Lady Margaret and Miss Orr’s visit to the Art Exhibition was not to satisfy their interest in artistic endeavor but to endlessly quiz him regarding painting techniques. Since that was a subject of which he had no knowledge, the ladies’ questions were more of an irritation than an endearment. There was more than one point during the afternoon when the Duke actually considered he’d rather attend another round of debates regarding the Corn Laws. Edward simply wished to put the last few hours behind him.

  Raised voices and protests from the horses alerted Edward to a disturbance outside. The Duke’s crested carriage slowed to a stop. They had not been on the road nearly long enough to have reached Worth House.

  Edward rapped on the ceiling with his walking stick and leaned toward the window. “What is it?”

  “Problems up ahead, Your Grace,” the driver shouted. “They’ve got an overturned wagon. All its plunder’s lost. Can’t gets by.”

  “Turn about then,” Edward suggested before easing back against the squabs. Gazing out the window, the passing sight of an old rough wall of stacked stones caught his eye. Soon the view changed to ivy covering the wall, which looked very familiar to him. The carriage rolled by a mostly solid metal gate before rounding the corner, past the front of the property where a woman strolled toward a waiting chaise.

  Edward rapped on the ceiling of the carriage and called out for the driver to stop. The carriage slowed to a halt, and the Duke leaned forward to peer out the window at the woman. All he could see of her besides her brown garb was her hat sporting white feathers and a large, no, enormous blue bow.

  Was that the lady of the house? And who, Edward was mildly curious to know, was she?

  The woman and her blue bow disappeared into the chaise and it moved off.

  Edward ordered his driver to continue, and on to Worth House they went.

  CHAPTER NINE

  This was not the first summer Edward had spent making the rounds of parties. He’d accompanied two of his daughters for their debut Seasons. Somehow attending festivities with his daughters did not seem as exhausting as accompanying his son.

  This evening his carriage rolled to a stop before the Greenway residence. Augusta and Frederick alit and traveled up the front walk. Edward followed them, stood with them in the foyer of the townhouse as they were divested of their outer garments, and was summarily abandoned.

  “Excuse us, Papa. Come, Freddie, let us go at once!” Augusta had hold of her brother’s arm and fairly flew up the staircase, leaving their father to stand in the foyer alone.

  Young people. Edward took his time brushing off his sleeves and straightening his cuffs before ascending the stairs. Reaching the first floor, he strolled in the direction of the voices, soon coming upon the reception room filled with guests. He caught sight of Augusta and Frederick on the far side of the room.

  It amazed the Duke how swiftly his son had cut through the throng to approach a certain young lady who interested him. What determined perfection in his eyes, Edward did not know. It was not the mere choice of blonde or brunette. The female guests ranged from one possessing a beautiful face to a plain visage, a highly-educated mind to a female who owned to only minor accomplishments such as sketching, playing the pianoforte, and speaking French. Edward would be dashed if he could decipher the qualities for which his son searched. And though none of the ladies his son courted were who Edward would have chosen, he remained optimistic about the outcome. If and when Frederick found his bride, they all would be happy.

  “Good evening, Your Grace.” Lady Kimball immediately approached him and curtsied.

  “I had no idea you were attending this evening, my lady.” Edward bowed to his beloved relative. “Does Sir William accompany you?”

  “Not this evening. He does not enjoy such gatherings, as you know. I believe I did see Augusta and Frederick enter, rather hastily, if I may be so bold to say.”

  Edward chuckled. “I am not certain if we are meant to be one party or if my attendance is only to lend them a bit of respectability. They resemble a gamboling pair of youngsters, do they not?”

  “They do at that. I can well imagine them dashing to the blackberry patch or racing off to see who could reach the center of the maze first instead of making their way through a fine mansion in London.”

  “It has been a very long time since that occurrence.” The image of the maze at Faraday Hall and his children, and at various times their cousins and friends, amusing themselves within the hedge walls, instantly rose to Edward’s mind.

  A lull fell between them before Lady Kimball spoke, “May I ask a favor of you, sir?”

  “You must know I shall gladly do so, my dear lady.” So she had been waiting for him. Edward placed his hand over his heart, displaying his sincerity.

  “You are so kind to oblige, sir.” Lady Kimball reached out and touched his sleeve. “There is an acquaintance of mine, Your Grace, who would benefit by your company on the dance floor, or if you prefer, taking a turn about the room with her. It would do much for her character.”

  “Is there something amiss with her character?” Edward wondered what plagued Lady Kimball’s friend.

  “Oh, no. She’s from a fine, upstanding family, but she’s just put off her widow’s weeds. She is still young, and I’m doing what I can to relaunch her into Society.” Lady Kimball’s upturned mouth twitched, betraying her nervousness. “Will you allow me to present her to you?”

  Edward inclined his head. Of course he would allow it.

  Momentarily turning from him, Lady Kimball led forward a woman dressed in a modest lilac-colored gown. “Your Grace, this is Mrs. Raley. Ophelia, this is the Duke of Faraday.”

  “How do you do, Your Grace?” Mrs. Raley had some sort of floral ornamentation in her curled brown hair and displayed a pleasant smile.

  It was the first feature Edward noticed about a woman. Most females could mimic the gesture without effort or emotion, but such an act could easily be transparent. An earnest smile could be seen in a lady’s eyes. That was truly something to be admired.

  An agreeable smile, an agreeable heart.

  The Duke returned her smile and offered her his arm. “Would you care to accompany me for a turn about the room?”

  By Lady Kimball’s expression, his cooperation meant much to her. She seemed pleased beyond measure. Society ways were sometimes very silly. His attention to a certain female would make her acceptable in their eyes. And it would, of course, bring her to the attention of the gentlemen, which was what Lady Kimball wished above all.

  So be it. Edward led Mrs. Raley around the edge of the room for their stroll. He moved with ease, taking his time, ensuring everyone would see the now available young widow with him, giving her the best chance for a new life.

  It rankled Augusta that she had not yet been able to introduce any of her friends, her candidates for duchess, to her father while night after night Freddie made casual acquaint
ances with fatherless young ladies. Now Aunt Mary had stepped into the arena. Augusta watched her father taking a turn about the room with her aunt’s candidate.

  “My dear sister,” Freddie interrupted Augusta’s study, “allow me to make known to you Miss Shrope.” It was not quite a proper introduction, but he never was one to follow rules exactly.

  Before Augusta stood a finely dressed, fair-haired young lady with soft blue eyes. “How do you do, Miss Shrope?” Augusta met Miss Shrope’s bright gaze with much less interest.

  “I am well, Lady Augusta. Thank you,” Miss Shrope returned. Her attention did not settle upon Freddie but remained on Augusta.

  Freddie, who did not display a single mote of interest in Miss Shrope, stood on tiptoe surveying the opposite end of the room, paying no attention to the ladies in his presence. It was so very rude of him. She would like to box his ears.

  “I beg your pardon, ladies. I see a certain young lady from whom I wish to beg a dance.” Freddie made his bows and left.

  Was Miss Shrope one of his faux amours? If their father actually believed Freddie had any interest whatsoever in this young lady, Augusta would have to declare her papa as oblivious as her brother.

  “How is it you know his lordship, may I ask?” Augusta wondered if she could subtly make inquiries to discover the nature of their meeting or what Miss Shrope thought Freddie’s interest was in her.

  Miss Shrope leaned closer to Augusta to reply, and softened her voice. “I had a written introduction through your sister, Lady Am—Muriel.”

  “Muriel?” Augusta could not hide her surprise at hearing her youngest sister’s name appearing upon the lips of a total stranger. “How could you know of…”

  “I was recommended by her husband—you know.” Miss Shrope cast her gaze downward in a gesture of some embarrassment, then around at the other guests.