by Lauren Smith
Colleen sighed with a longing which surprised her. As the daughter of a duke, she had learned that she would marry amongst the ton. Though, her mother had given a bit of a start when Colleen had announced her intentions to live as Aunt Julie, and find a companion and never be married.
“Enough of this nostalgic woolgathering,” Aunt Julie said with a clip in her voice. “I have other things to tell you. We are hosting a ball.”
“We?” Colleen squeaked.
“Yes. We. Jane and I will help, but it is to be your first time in doing the main planning. You must know how to do these things for when you marry.”
“Do what things?” she said with a scowl.
“Host and plan important events.”
“A ball is not an important event.”
“Oh yes, it is. Polite Society will expect you to know how and to not embarrass your husband.”
All those warm feelings from the story ran away to be replaced with trepidation and frustration. “I have no plans of marrying. I want to be like you and never fall in love.”
The shock on Aunt Julie’s face nearly had her laughing, except she did not understand the source.
“Dear child, do you honestly believe that I have never been in love?” Aunt Julie asked carefully.
“You never married,” Colleen said, confused.
“Of course. Well, I have been in love, but society refused my marriage. Therefore, I have lived without it. But I assure you, dearest niece, that I have loved deeply. That I love deeply. But that is neither here nor there. You are too important to me to allow you to wallow in your grief any longer.”
“What? I have not been wallowing. I have been studying the Egyptian Kingdoms. It is quite fascinating. I have even joined an antiques society so that I can learn more.”
“I am glad to hear it, though a bit surprised. I thought you were into ghosts nowadays.”
“Oh, but I am! That is what I find fascinating about the Egyptians. Though you are correct. More recently, I have taken to studying haunted castles—or any building, really!—right here in England and as far as Scotland and Ireland. Figure I have the best chance of exploring those. However, I have been going to meetings every Thursday morning for a few months now. Shortly after the six months passed from my parents’ death, Karen told me about the secret society. The paranormal effects of the afterlife are quite evident if you but know where to look,” Colleen began, warming up to her subject.
Aunt Julie raised her hand for silence. “Again, I am very glad to hear you are getting out with friends. However, you have to reintegrate with society again, or your brother may believe I am being derelict of my duties to you as guardian and take you back. You are not of age or married yet. He technically has that right in reserve.”
The mere idea of being under her brother’s guardianship had her walking back over to her desk and taking a fortifying drink of her tea. “I do not want my brother to take me from you,” she said sincerely. “I love him, but he is…rather a stick in the mud. Thinks I am a bluestocking.”
“Agreed. So, you will do as I ask and plan this ball. It will be your reintroduction to society.”
“Do you not find it a bit pretentious? I mean, Everyone very well knows I have not disappeared off the face of the earth for this year of mourning. Why can I not just, I do not know do something? Maybe I could simply go to a major soiree, or a ball given by the Dark Duke’s new wife. She is a pleasant person. Or, even one at Hampsteads. It is the latest in places to hold dances, is it not?” She spoke rapidly, nervous at the mere idea of holding a ball.
“Yes, my dear. I can see how it could be seen that way. Look at it as a celebration of your return to society, if that helps.”
“But…” Colleen swallowed. She did not want to disappoint her aunt, but neither did she want to be under such intense scrutiny after a year of peace in her books. “What if I fail,” she finished weakly and sighed. She knew absolutely that any party she held would not be a failure, not with her Aunt Julie and Jane’s influence. People would come, if only to see the inside of the estates of one of the wealthiest merchants of their time. They rarely were allowed.
“I can see the answer on your face, plain as day, Colleen. Now, no more missish foolishness from you. You must give an honest try at finding a husband. You do not have to marry if you do not love them. Richard has conceded that point to me.”
“What? When did you speak to Richard?”
“I just got back from London, you goose. I went specifically to talk to him, gain his help and try to wheedle out that promise from him. Turns out, I did not have to work that hard for him to grant it. He even let slip that he wanted to marry for love as well.”
Hope bloomed in Colleen. “Really? Oh, I am so happy for him. And for myself,” she added honestly. “He really is a good man for a stick in the mud.”
Aunt Julie laughed again. “And, now that the year of mourning is up for him, he has been inundated with ambitious mommas and their daughters trying to cajole or coerce him into making an offer for them. He is as unimpressed with it all as your mother was. Not often a rich lord as young as your brother is on the marriage mart.”
They shared a laugh, and Colleen felt better than she had in a while. She would rather be planning a small gathering for her paranormal society—in fact, would do just that after the big ball—but things could be worse. She could be doing it alone…or worse, Richard could be planning it for her. Or, heaven forbid, Aunt Gertrude.
She scrunched up her nose. “Let’s get started then,” she said, and pulled out a piece of stationary to begin a list, wiping off the crumbs she had inadvertently spilled on her workplace. With a sigh at her all too frequent lapse of tidiness, she began plotting for the party.
Chapter 2
Lord Henry William Charles Simpson IV, Earl of Strathford, one and only heir to the Dukedom of Yorkshire, stared it his father. “No. Absolutely not. I am not going to some ball in the country by people I barely know. I have business to attend to right here in London.” He shot daggers at his father with his eyes, trying to convey the seriousness of his intentions.
“You will go with me, and you will be polite. The brother is the duke that I need to agree to the shipping venture. You will schmooze the chit. Do whatever is necessary to get her to like you. I will be talking with the brother.” The implacable tone, one Lord Henry was all too familiar with, grated on his nerves but left little room to maneuver out of the demands.
Nonetheless, he tried. “And what if the chit becomes smitten with me and my charm? I intend to woo the newly widowed Countess of Wessex as soon as seemly. She has everything I need in a wife. Charm, wit, money of her own, titles of her own, and, though she is much older than I had envisioned in my wife, she has already mothered a child from the Earl of Wessex before his passing, she is obviously able to bear me heirs. Is that not what you want from me the most, Father?” In truth, Henry had no wish to marry. Too much strife and hatred and petty bickering from those of his acquaintance. But he needs must find someone to bear a child for the family name.
His father’s face went ruddy then pale then ruddy, a sure sign of his fury. Maybe Henry had pushed him too far this time. “You will not marry the Countess of Wessex. Have I made myself clear? Tell me you have not already pushed yourself on her,” he roared.
“Jesus, Father, what do you take me for?” Henry stared agape, completely incredulous at the level of fury his father laid on him. “The earl’s funeral was only a month ago. She simply struck me as one capable of filling my needs without me having to attend so many of these soirees. It is not as if those of our station marry for love, Father.”
It had also given him the perfect excuse to quit going to the marriage mart and focus on growing the estates, making them more self sufficient and work on how to renew his resources. And it hit him then that he really had no intention of following through at that time, either. Just was a way to fob off the pressure to beget an heir. Would it be so bad if Uncle David inhe
rited?
His father took a few seconds, but the color on his face returned to normal and his breathing evened out. “I am sorry, Henry. I…” He looked away from Henry’s gaze and walked to the nearby window. “I had a great affection for your mother, but I loved the Countess of Wessex back when we were kids. Our parents forbid it. I…”
Henry watched interested. His parents had been kind and affectionate, both toward him and each other, more so than most of the upper class. He knew of many couples secretly jealous of that affection, revealing itself in snide comments or wistful words Henry was fairly certain had not been meant for his ears. “I did not know, Father. I will find another. As I said, a whim only.”
His father turned back to him, a suspicious shine in his eyes. “Thank you, Son,” he said quietly. “I apologize for my outburst. I had not realized just how strongly I still felt and how much I wanted another chance.”
Henry nodded. “It is forgotten. Now, why must I schmooze the duke’s sister then?”
“It is her party.”
The night of the party arrived. Henry adjusted his mask. The silly girl had chosen to have a masquerade. Henry had nearly backed out, but then remembered how much his father needed his help. The shipping end of business had been his father’s addition to the family estates. Not content to rest on the laurels of his ancestors, he had wanted to make a major contribution. But it had stretched them a bit. And he had gone about it properly. So, if the shipping venture did not work, then only a small part of the estate’s money will be forfeit, but his father’s pride would take a harsh blow. And what harm could come of flirting with a woman for an evening?
“Father…how old is Richard’s sister, and perhaps you should give me her name as well.”
His father took the unlit pip out of his mouth that he had been about to lit.
“I am not certain of her age. Her name is Colleen, Lady Harrington. Their parents died more than a year ago, though not by much. Through some legal maneuvering, the aunt on the mother’s side has custody, though Richard has the power to take her if the aunt is deemed unfit, if I recall the on dits around the club right. It made for quite the scandal at the time.”
Henry nodded. He remembered rumors about it. That settled his mind a bit. “I do recall something along those lines about that. I am now intrigued. I look forward to meeting them.”
The carriage rumbled to a stop, and with a sigh of regret, his father put the pipe back in the pocket hidden in his cloak for just such a purpose. “Well, my boy, seems as we have arrived, you can do so immediately.”
Henry shook his head and laughed. “Father, you have a one track mind.”
They stepped down, and the lamplights posted along the walk lit up the stone in a warm, yellow glow. The smell of spring hung in the air, the scent of freshly turned earth and flowers in bloom. He made a mental note to find out who their gardeners because of his amazement when he saw how many blooms already lined their drive. Lilacs along one side already sent out their scent in the evening spring breeze. It took a lot of care. Most of the trees would not be in bloom for another week or so.
He barely refrained from commenting on them to his father. He had found he was unusual in his appreciation of flowering shrubs and trees. As he mulled over possible changes on his own estate, the door opened by a well-dressed butler, who, with a half bow, greeted them and asked them to follow him.
Inside, candles and chandeliers and sconces lined the walls of the brightly lit hallway. A low rumble of voices reached him, even as a servant took their coats. Despite himself, he found himself impressed. The wallpaper, tastefully done, with a rose pattern he happened to know to be of recent French design, gleamed. The cream background softening the maroons and light pinks of the flowers gave an overall genteel feel to the mansion.
New money, he recalled. A merchant made good and married his daughter into the aristocracy, the other daughters also doing well. The aunt…Julie Chapman, her father being one in a long line of successful merchants, being the only one to not marry. Still, she did a fine business, having taken over from her father at a young age.
Parents still alive, retired in Nice, the location on the French Riviera in Provence-Alpes-Côte d'Azur a definite plus. Interesting that Colleen went to her, not the brother, not the grandparents. Probably partly due to her age.
They walked through the double doors into a ballroom. The chandeliers shown even brighter here, the people milling about, glittering masks and half masks dotting the landscape over a sea of gowns and tuxedos and capes. A quartet in the corner softly played music, a few dancers taking advantage. He noticed it all in a quick minute of perusal while inline to greet the hostess and the others in line.
“Henry, this is the Duke DeWinter, Richard Harrington. His sister Lady Colleen Harrington and their aunt, Julie Chapman.”
Henry bowed a short head nod to Lord Harrington and Miss Chapman, and a half bow from the waist to Lady Harrington. As he rose, he caught a glimpse of her eyes through the mask. Their intense green had him staring. He could count on one hand the number of people he’d met with green eyes. “I am pleased to meet you all,” he said, but never took his eyes off Lady Harrington.
“I would love to speak some business with you when you have a chance Lord DeWinter.”
“The Duke of Canterbury is down from his Scottish estates. I plan on speaking with him tomorrow at my London residence, and mayhap, if they arrive early enough tonight, we may speak of these things over a game of cards. I welcome you into any such discussions.”
“I will await your word. Come now, Henry, the line is backing up.”
Henry almost scowled at his father, but caught himself. He raised his hand for Lady Harrington’s and kissed the back of it. “Save me a dance, Green Eyes,” he said in a low, husky voice. Hell and damnation, where did that tone come from? He had meant a small flirt, not this full throttled determination toward her that no one could possibly miss. And yes, out of the corner of his eye, Richard’s attention had turned sharply in their direction.
“I would be honored, my lord,” she said. The sweet tone of shyness underlay a more apparent wry amusement.
Her voice washed over him like a waterfall on a hot summer day. Henry sought for more words, but was pushed along by those seeking an audience of welcome. He sighed, and his father, bless him, laughed and pat him firmly on the back. “My dearest son, you have it bad.”
Though still reeling from the intense attraction, Henry spit out a denial. “Nay, Father. I cannot be, for I have barely met her. I know not how she looks, be she fair or scarred or—”
“And none of that will matter to you now. Unless she is shallow as many of our set, nothing will deter you. Remember the Countess of Sussex?”
As if he could forget his father’s visceral reaction to his half-baked notion to marry an older woman. “Yes, quite well, in fact,” he teased. A light flush pinkened his father’s cheeks, causing Henry to stare with eyebrows raised.
“It was much the same way with her. A chance meeting, barely a hello, and I was smitten. She returned my feelings, too. Son, in all seriousness,” he said quietly, “I know you love the estates. I know you want to better them and the rest of the family holdings, that you feel your duty strongly. But, I also know you have no wish to father a child at this juncture.”
“I have no wish for the shallow life I see in so many of my friends who married the first eligible chit with money. You and Mother had great affection for each other. I want something more like that. Or more than that. Like the Duke of Canterbury. I heard Lord DeWinter mention him in line. He obviously dotes on his wife, and she adores him. Now that I have seen it is possible for our ranks, it’s what I want. Even if it just is not done amongst our set.”
Surprising Henry, his father’s eyes softened. “I understand. It is a lonely life out on the estate grounds. If you cannot find one whom you believe you can have great affection for, then do not worry. We can have it go to my brother and his family.”
/> He stood stock still for a long moment. “You mean it, Father?”
Father nodded and grasped his shoulder. “Yes, I do. Your Uncle David is a good man. Keep care of the estates, do your best to ensure they will not be a burden for the next generation. That is all I ask of you.”
Henry could not speak for the emotions flooding him overwhelmed him. That left him free to pursue Lady Harrington. As he thought this, a lady touched his arm. He knew immediately that it was her. Her aunt stood next to her.
“My lord,” she murmured, almost demure.
Henry grinned. Somehow, that demure stance did not go well with the fire he had seen dance in her eyes. “Yes, Lady Harrington.”
“I have left this dance for you, as requested,” she said, her voice cracking.
Good. Mayhap she felt for his as he did her. It would be interesting to see where this attraction went.
He took her into his arms and danced the waltz. It gave them a chance to speak. “What are you doing on the morn?” he asked.
“The morn?” Her body stiffened, and a slight panic filled her eyes. “I…”
“Come now, do not lie to me. I can see you rapidly searching for the words.”
“I have a parlor meeting tomorrow,” she mumbled.
“I see. And such a thing brings you such consternation that you must think of a lie to cover it? Mayhap it is me you find offensive?”
“Oh, no, my lord. Everyone has spoken highly of you. It is just that, from what I have seen, men such as yourself—I mean in your lofty position—do not approve of the intent of my meeting or the subject matter.”
“And what, precisely, is your intention?” His voice hardened as he thought of ‘meetings’ and mistresses, though he quickly squashed the instinctive reaction to protect her from predatory males.
“We are meeting to discuss ghosts,” she said earnestly. “Please, pray tell, do not mention it to my brother. He scoffs at such things,” she continued as he tried to process what she meant.