No Dukes Need Apply (The Impossible Balfours Book 4)

by Gemma Blackwood

  He wondered whether Selina felt this mix of pride and protection for all four of hers, all the time.

  “You have done me a favour, so I shall do you one in return,” said Isobel, as he returned her to her preferred seat near the musicians. “It will do you no good to call at our house tomorrow.”

  “Will it not?”

  She glanced about cautiously, as though she were about to reveal a great secret. “Selina is never at home the day after a ball. That way, if any gentlemen try to call on her, they are disappointed.”

  “I am struggling to see why you object to my calling her Lady Icicle.”

  She held up a warning finger. “Careful, Caversham. I have warned you once already. Now, the day after a ball, Selina invariably takes Aunt Ursula out visiting. They usually go to the Dowager Countess of Aldershot, who lives in the country. It’s two hours from London.”

  “I know the place. But what excuse can I make for visiting Lady Aldershot?”

  Isobel sighed. “Must I think of everything for you?”

  “Very well. I’ll come up with something.” Malcolm hesitated. “My lady, I think I am correct in suspecting that Lady Selina does not wish to be courted.”

  “She does not.” Isobel frowned. “And I wish I knew why. I have seen her sabotage every chance she’s had of a real suitor. And now, with Alex and Anthea and Edith all married, it seems stranger than ever that Selina should be alone.” She gave him an appraising once-over, her keen eyes taking in everything from his artfully tousled hair to his polished boots. “Don’t ask me why, but I’ve decided that it would be interesting to see what happens when a gentleman is given a fair shot.”

  “I am grateful that you find me worthy of the opportunity.”

  “Worthy?” Isobel shook her head, grinning wickedly. “Oh, no. That is for Selina to decide.”

  As though she had been summoned by the words, Selina herself approached them. Looking like the haughtiest of goddesses, despite the mess Malcolm had made of one side of her hair.

  “Good evening, Your Grace,” she said, as though they had not spoken at all that night. As though she’d forgotten that she called him Caversham, earlier, when they were alone. “Isobel,” she said, turning to her sister, “I don’t want to keep you out late. I am not satisfied that you are fully recovered from your illness.”

  “I am perfectly ready to leave,” said Isobel. “In fact, the evening has been everything I wished for.” She shot a smile in Malcolm’s direction, which was almost a balm to the fact that Selina did not even glance at him as they both left.

  He watched her, though, as her slender figure wove its way through the crowded ballroom and disappeared through the far door. He watched her as though she were the only woman in the room, and his mind turned over the precious information Isobel had given him, seeking a way to turn it to his advantage.

  Lady Aldershot would be extremely surprised the following afternoon, to find the Duke of Caversham at her door.

  11

  “You cannot be serious.” Selina set her teacup down in its saucer before she spilled it in her anger. “What on earth is he doing so far from London on a miserable day like today?”

  Lady Aldershot, unlike Aunt Ursula, had grown milder with her advancing years. Her rheumy eyes blinked in uncomprehending surprise. “I did not ask him, my lady. It would hardly be charitable to assail the man with questions when he is in such a predicament.”

  Aunt Ursula was quicker on the uptake. “Carriages are wont to trap their wheels in the mud, when eligible heiresses are in the nearest house.”

  “There is no possibility that he has done it on purpose,” said Selina, trying to believe the words as she spoke them. “How could he know I was here?”

  Aunt Ursula raised her eyebrows over the rim of her teacup. “I’m sure he does not know, Selina. As you say, nobody could possibly guess that you would suggest a visit to Lady Aldershot the day after a ball.”

  “The duke says the roads are simply impassable,” said Lady Aldershot, fretting at her lower lip. “You will all have to stay for the night. I shan’t be able to sleep otherwise, for thinking of you coming to harm on the way back to London.”

  Selina took a deep breath, shooting a glare at Aunt Ursula. “You are too kind, Lady Aldershot. Too kind by far. I’m sure that our trusty carriage is much more robust than the duke’s phaeton.”

  “I will not hear of it!” Lady Aldershot insisted, her white brows trembling. “I shall ring for my housekeeper at once. You shall be very comfortable here, I promise you, and you may have your pick of my clothes to wear tomorrow.”

  “Too kind,” Selina repeated, softening her tone. Lady Aldershot meant no harm, after all.

  Aunt Ursula was much less innocent, but Selina did not have the opportunity to make her feelings clear before Malcolm appeared.

  He was wholly unrepentant, as she expected, and muddy to the thighs, which she did not. Percival the retired coach dog limped at his heels, equally besmirched, and equally pleased with himself.

  “My ladies,” said Malcolm, making a low bow. He did not fully enter Lady Aldershot’s drawing room, but stood on the tiled floor of the hallway, greeting them through the open door. “I cannot thank you enough for taking me in.” Percy gave a yip of recognition on spotting Selina, but Malcolm stilled him with a stern glare. “Down, Sir Percival. You are in no fit state to greet the ladies. Wait until you have bathed.”

  “It was the least I could do!” Lady Aldershot simpered. Selina saw that it was not only the younger girls of the ton who were susceptible to Malcolm’s dashing smile. “I only wish my men had been able to rescue your lovely phaeton in time for you to be on your way. I’m sure your business was very urgent.”

  “Oh, it can wait a day or two.” He winked, sending both older ladies into flutters. “I’m afraid I must trouble you for a change of clothes. I am not fit to be seen, particularly in Lady Selina’s company.” He shot her a look full of dark promise. She pretended she had not noticed.

  “I will ask my butler to find something for you,” said Lady Aldershot, all aquiver with concern. “I cannot say what he will turn up. I do not keep gentleman’s clothing in the house!”

  “A simple pair of trousers will more than suffice.” Malcolm bowed and took his leave, scooping Percy up under his arm. Selina was left fuming, suspicious, and obliged to maintain a smile to please her hostess, despite Aunt Ursula’s provocative grin.

  By the time Malcolm returned, the ladies had begun their afternoon tea, always a lavish affair in Lady Aldershot’s house. Malcolm’s eyes gleamed as he took in the spread of sandwiches, cakes, and sweetmeats. He was wearing a pair of trousers that were too large for his trim frame, held in place by a thick belt that did not match them. He wore the indignity with insouciant ease. Percy, freshly primped by Lady Aldershot’s staff, followed at his heels with a lopsided trot.

  “I could not have chosen a better place to be marooned if I tried, Lady Aldershot,” said Malcolm, popping a grape into his mouth. His eyes found Selina, and his smile widened.

  “You flatter me, Your Grace,” Lady Aldershot flustered. “I cannot compete with London’s attractions, I’m sure.”

  Malcolm set his plate aside and took her hand, assuming an air of absolute sincerity. “Really, my lady, I could not be more grateful for your hospitality today.”

  Lady Aldershot was flattered, and Selina, despite herself, was pleased.

  Though she took care not to show it, when Malcolm took a seat beside her, his appetite sated but a hunger in his eyes all the same.

  “What a piece of good fortune that I found you here today,” he said, his voice a low purr. Selina checked that the older ladies were not listening and treated him to an icy glare. The effect was spoiled a little by the necessity of petting Percy, who had come to say hello.

  “I cannot believe that fortune had anything to do with it, Your Grace.”

  “Don’t you believe in luck?” Malcolm dropped his roguish act. “I find myself
in your debt, Selina. I have a secret of yours. You must have one of mine in return.”

  She fixed her attention on the dog, feeding him a small piece of ham from her sandwich. “I do not wish to hear any of your secrets.”

  “Nevertheless.”

  Percival settled himself contentedly at Selina’s feet, his appetite sated. She was left with no choice but to look up at Malcolm, eyes narrow and knowing. “I can think of something worth hearing. The name of the man who is buying the Twynham election on your behalf.”

  Malcolm’s jaw tightened. “If I knew that, I would tell you. It’s as much an insult to me as it’s a threat to your Mr Forrester.”

  “But you do know it,” she pressed. “I saw your face when you heard him suggest a bribe to Mr Griggs.” The memory of Malcolm’s shock, close and intimate in the dark, intruded upon her composure, but she suppressed it. “You knew him. I am sure of it.”

  “Then you do not know me as well as you think. I was upset to hear about the bribe because it impugned my capability. I will win the Twynham seat, Selina. Someone imagines I need their aid, and the thought irks me. But I cannot tell you who that someone might be.”

  “You will not win it,” she answered with a smile, “but you should not be ashamed. Mr Forrester is worth ten of your Sir Rodericks, and any man with sense will prove it with his ballot.”

  “Let us agree to disagree.” Malcolm glanced towards the old ladies, who were gossiping together peaceably. “It would not do to distress Lady Aldershot with an argument.”

  Selina knew that he was right, and the thought that His Gorgeous Grace displayed more tact than she did was alarming. “Very well. Shall we discuss the weather?”

  “If you can think of no other suitable topic.”

  “But the weather is precisely what has brought you here, is it not?” Selina widened her eyes, all innocence. She saw the flash of guilt on Malcolm’s face. “You must have been very surprised to find mud on the road in the middle of an English winter. Just as I was surprised to find you venturing so far from London today, when I know you hate the rain.”

  He opened his mouth to answer, his brows drawing together with what had every appearance of genuine hurt, when a shriek from Aunt Ursula demanded both their attention.

  She had stood up from her chair without reaching for her stick and had toppled to the floor with an unceremonious thump, catching at the table on the way down and surrounding herself with a gentle patter of slices of cake and pieces of fruit.

  Lady Aldershot was frozen in her chair, face pale and quivering, paralysed by shock. Ursula’s arms waved helplessly in the air a moment, like the legs of a bug that had been tipped onto its back, before flopping down at her sides.

  To Selina’s endless guilt, the first person to reach her was Malcolm.

  “Lie still, my lady,” he commanded, kneeling beside her. His hand landed on Ursula’s crooked shoulder, gentle but firm. “Don’t try to move.”

  “Auntie.” Selina’s voice sounded strange in her ears, high-pitched and fearful. As she knelt at Ursula’s side, Malcolm stretched out his other hand towards Selina. He placed it on her knee, drawing her attention for a split second. Selina’s panic reached its crest and began to fall away.

  “Are you in any pain, Lady Ursula?” Malcolm asked. Ursula let out a low groan.

  “My back.”

  Malcolm nodded, calm and certain. “Lady Aldershot, please ring for a servant and ask him to fetch a doctor.”

  “Auntie, I’m here.” Selina gripped Ursula’s hand. It felt impossibly small and frail. “Don’t worry. We will have you back on your feet in a moment.”

  “I don’t know about that, my dear.” Aunt Ursula did not move her head. She stared up at the ceiling, her face pale and drawn.

  “Can you move your legs at all, my lady?” asked Malcolm, reaching down to take Ursula’s other hand. Ursula’s eyes flickered towards him, and his face broke into that dazzling smile. “Please forgive my impertinence. You see, I’d love to ask you to dance this evening, and I want to see that those fine legs are in working order.”

  “You are a flirt, Duke,” said Ursula appreciatively. Malcolm bowed his head.

  “Guilty as charged.”

  Ursula wiggled one leg, then the other. Malcolm patted her hand, real relief on his face. “Excellent. Shall we dance a jig tonight, or would you prefer a waltz?”

  “Dear boy.” Selina saw Ursula’s fingers tighten around Malcolm’s. “My dancing days were done long before this little setback.”

  “I don’t believe that for a moment.” Malcolm pulled out his handkerchief and wiped away some of the cake that had crushed itself against Ursula’s dress. “A little rest, and you’ll dance me off my feet, I’m sure of it.”

  “Auntie,” said Selina, “do you think you can sit up?”

  A look of fear creased Ursula’s face. “I’m not sure.”

  Malcolm lifted her hand and placed it on his shoulder. “Put your arms about my neck, my lady, and I shall carry you somewhere more comfortable than Lady Aldershot’s floor.”

  Ursula looked at Selina, waggling her eyebrows with irrepressible mischief. “Now that’s the sort of offer I haven’t had in years. Only a churl would say no.”

  “Auntie.” Selina did not know whether she wanted to laugh or cry. She put a hand to her mouth, unable to look at Malcolm or Ursula. Percy roused himself from his slumber and moved towards them with his odd hopping walk, attracted by the spilled food rather than the fuss.

  The footman Lady Aldershot had summoned arrived in the room, hurrying forwards when he saw Ursula on the floor. Malcolm dismissed him with a cool shake of his head, gathered Ursula into his arms, and stood up with painstaking care. Selina hovered at his side, useless as Ursula’s forgotten walking stick.

  “Show the duke to the closest guest bedroom,” Lady Aldershot instructed the footman. “And then send for Dr Phillips, as quickly as possible!” She pressed a hand to her cheek. “He may not be able to reach us, with the roads in such poor condition.”

  It was Malcolm’s turn to have difficulty meeting Selina’s eyes. “I’m sure the doctor’s vehicle will manage better than my frippery phaeton,” he said.

  Aunt Ursula tapped his shoulder. “Young man, I believe you were about to take me to bed.”

  “Auntie!” Hot embarrassment rose to Selina’s cheeks. Malcolm grinned, enjoying every bit of it.

  “I do apologise, Lady Ursula. I won’t delay any further.”

  Selina took her aunt’s hand and held it tight as Malcolm negotiated the doorway, the hall, the wide spiral staircase. The footman held the bedroom door for him, and he turned sideways to make sure Ursula’s head did not knock against the doorway. Selina was forced to relinquish her aunt’s hand, but she stood watchful guard as Malcolm reached the newly made bed and set Ursula down. The old lady let out a small cry of pain as he did.

  “I am sorry, my lady,” he said, concern etching his brow. “I am a clumsy brute.”

  “Not a bit of it, dear boy,” said Ursula faintly.

  Selina turned to the footman, belatedly recovering her senses. “Send up a warming pan for my aunt. And a cup of strong tea.”

  “Sherry,” Aunt Ursula corrected her. Malcolm stifled a laugh.

  “Sherry is very beneficial for a bruised spine,” he said, with a manful attempt at solemnity. “I’m sure the doctor will agree.”

  “Tea,” Selina repeated. The footman bowed and left, frightened by her severity. She had not meant to speak to him so harshly, but she could not bear either Malcolm’s levity or Ursula’s pain. Her distress had to express itself somehow, and the footman was the unwitting victim.

  Lady Aldershot appeared in the doorway, her hands waving about in distraction. “Oh! My dearest Ursula. Are you comfortable? I will have a fire lit. We cannot let you get cold. Oh, my poor dear!”

  With Lady Aldershot’s anxious assistance, Selina made Ursula comfortable among the pillows and blankets. A maid appeared and began setting the fi
re. Malcolm removed himself to the corridor, where Selina caught sight of him each time she passed the open door, standing guard like a sentinel.

  The tea arrived. Ursula attempted to sit up to drink it, but the effort caused her too much discomfort. Lady Aldershot insisted on sitting at her bedside and feeding it to her by the spoonful.

  “Do you need anything else, Auntie?” Selina slid her hand into Ursula’s again, studying her face for any sign of further pain. “A book, perhaps, or an infusion?”

  “I need peace and quiet,” said Ursula firmly. “And a great deal less fuss.”

  Lady Aldershot looked shocked, but Selina was gladder than she could say to hear some of the usual vigour in Aunt Ursula’s voice. Her lip trembled, and she slapped a hand to it, determined not to let Ursula see her concern.

  “Why don’t you send up my needlework, Selina,” said Lady Aldershot kindly. “I will sit with your aunt until the doctor comes. You will do me a great kindness if you entertain the duke in my absence. Do thank him for his help.”

  Ursula looked extremely satisfied with that suggestion. “Yes, Selina. Make sure the dear boy knows how grateful you are.”

  “Caversham is not…” Selina choked on the words and gave up. “I will, Auntie. Try to be patient. Don’t bully poor Lady Aldershot into letting you out of bed.”

  She kissed Ursula’s forehead and removed herself from the bedroom before she was overcome by the sob that had been building in her chest since the moment Ursula fell.

  The door had hardly closed behind her before she let out the first part of it, a long, ragged exhalation. And before she could either master herself or give in to tears, she was in Malcolm’s arms.

  He held her against him the way he’d held her in the Whitbys’ secret passageway, one hand at the small of her back and the other pressing her face to his shoulder, fingers curling soothingly against the nape of her neck. This time there was nothing in it of either lust or deception. He was warm, strong, safe. She felt the way she had as a child when she ducked her head under the bedcovers to protect herself from the ghosts her brother swore haunted her bedroom.