Thankfully, Eliza didn't seem to wish to argue the issue either. Instead, she sighed and closed her eyes, nodding in agreement. Her silence was her consent, and for that, Nicholas was thankful. And really, he did not think it too unlikely that the two of them might actually be courting. She wasn't hideous or anything like that. In fact, in her own way, Eliza Deaver was rather pretty.
In the morning sun, she also seemed younger than her eight and twenty years and once more, Nicholas wondered why she had not wed. A husband would have solved many of her problems, including the risky undertaking of sneaking out of the house in the early mornings several times a month to conduct family business.
It wasn't as if she was unattractive, after all. Her honey-wheat hair was the envy of many young ladies of society. Or so Nicholas' sister Julia had informed him. Eliza wasn't as curvy as was the current fashion, true, but he could clearly see the outline of her breasts through the thin fabric of her morning gown. And they looked to be more than enough for any man with sense. She also had a lovely peaches and cream complexion. Not to mention a brain in her head, which he knew was rare among society misses.
And then there were her eyes, which in his opinion, were truly her most captivating feature. They were a clear, turquoise blue with hints of a deeper teal around the edges. They reminded him of a gloriously beautiful loch in Scotland he had seen years ago when he was just starting to gather information for his own purposes. Wide and deep, just like that almost mystical body of water, Eliza's eyes were the true doorway to her soul. Most of the time, those doors were closed to the world at large. She had learned long ago not to allow her emotions to show, but Nicholas liked to think that if he looked carefully enough, he could get past her barriers and see the shy young girl she had once been, buried beneath the jaded years that had since followed.
No, Eliza was pretty enough in her own way and with the "exclusive" story he had granted to Madame C, who wrote the new Town Tattler column that had taken the place of the much missed Society Tales column once written by the mysterious Lady X, Nicholas was certain that the story of his courtship of Eliza would begin gaining ground in the coming days.
"You have grown quiet, Nick." At Eliza's words, he opened his eyes, unaware that he had been drifting off to sleep in the quiet peace of the Deaver's garden. "Is something amiss? More than before, at any rate?"
Nicholas shook his head. "No. I am merely a bit weary. The night was long." Pushing away from the gazebo, he straightened his coat. "And I am afraid that I must be going. There is still much to do before tonight."
"What is tonight?" Eliza asked cautiously, almost afraid of what the answer might be.
"It is the annual Chillton Celestial Ball, hosted by the dowager viscountess. Frost's mother. After all, she has three daughters that need to secure husbands. As well as two younger sons on the hunt for wealthy heiresses to wed. Frost himself has also recently decided that it is time to select a bride so I'm certain that the evening will be endlessly entertaining." Nicholas gave Eliza what he hoped was a dazzling smile. Not a Bloody Duke smile, but one of his own. "So pull out your best dancing slippers, Brat, and find your best and most scandalous gown, for we are attending. Together. It will be our first public appearance as a couple. It will also be your brother's return to the heights of London society. I am certain that scandal will ensue!"
Nicholas found some small measure of pleasure when he saw the range of emotions - from fear to anger to something he could not name and then on to disbelief - cross Eliza's face. He also hoped she would not kill him later for this.
For the one secret he had never told anyone? There was only one person, save for his sister Julia, in all of England - and possibly the entire world - that the infamous Bloody Duke was even slightly afraid of. Or would do anything for. Anything at all. And she was standing before him and glaring as if she wished to strangle him with her bare hands.
Chapter Five
"Stephen looks so handsome this evening. Don't you agree, Eliza?"
For the previous ten minutes, those same words were all Clara Deaver seemed to be capable of speaking. And it was giving Eliza a headache. It was also a complete and utter lie, at least as far as Eliza was concerned.
"Truthfully, Mama, he looks extremely ill at ease. I am afraid that he might cast up his accounts on the dance floor." Even though Eliza still did not believe this man was actually her brother, she did feel a bit sorry for him at the moment.
When the news of Stephen's miraculous return from the grave had graced nearly all of the scandal sheet headlines that morning, Eliza had known that the Chillton's Celestial Ball would be an even bigger crush than in previous years. After all, it wasn't every day than a long-presumed dead heir suddenly reappeared in relatively good health. Especially after six long years away. However, she had not expected that every young lady of good breeding would mob the man, desperate to be the first to claim his attentions.
"Nonsense," her mother replied airily, as if she hadn't a care in the world. And, Eliza decided, she probably didn't. After all, she had received her miracle. Her son was home. "He was raised to this life. It will all come back to him soon, if it hasn't already, I am certain." Then she flipped open her fan and proceeded to cool herself, just as every other matron along the aptly dubbed Wallflower Row was doing. "It will merely take some time."
Eliza had her doubts but she didn't wish to argue with her mother. The day had been long enough and the night threatened to stretch into infinity. Once Nicholas had announced that they were all attending the Chillton's Celestial Ball, the Framingham townhouse had become a flurry of activity.
Messengers were sent scurrying off to Madame LaVallier's, as well as Watson and Webb, so that new evening clothes might be procured. They would have to settle for clothing that was already made up, of course, but with a few alterations, it would be good enough to pass for a single night in a dimly lit ballroom. Preparations for an entirely new wardrobe - for Stephen at least - would follow the next day. Eliza was fairly certain she would not be on the receiving end of such a gift. Her parents weren't cruel. They simply didn't see it as necessary. Not even with a new suitor. Not to mention her first suitor. Ever.
The gown from Madame LaVallier's for Eliza had, of course, been Nicholas' idea. If it had been left up to her parents, only Stephen would have been gracing the Chillton ballroom with new clothing that evening. However, as Nicholas had pointed out when he had escorted Eliza back to the house that morning, tonight was also to be their first official appearance as a courting couple. It would not do to have her seen in a gown at least a season or more out of date.
Silently, Eliza thanked Nicholas for pressuring her parents into purchasing the frock. She had never been in the first stare of fashion. Certainly not like her friends Lady Sophia Reynolds or Lady Diana Saintwood, who was even now probably well on her way to becoming Lady Hallstone. At least if one Lord Lachlan McKenna, Marquess of Hallstone, had anything to say about the matter. Which Eliza was certain he did.
Rather, Eliza had been content to fade into the background, wearing the drab pastels that, along with her pale coloring, simply made her blend in to her surroundings rather than forcing her to stand out. After all, she knew precisely what she was - a sickly child that had grown into a somewhat worn-out woman whose time as a debutante had come and gone long before she even made her debut. She had never been a diamond of the first water, but Eliza did believe that she had been a bit more attractive when she was younger.
However, her parents, in particular her father, had refused to allow Eliza to debut when she came of age, citing her delicate health. Even though she was no longer the ill child she had once been and had not been sick in ages. Then, when her father had decided she was, in fact, old enough, Stephen had died and the family had plunged into deep mourning. By the time she had actually debuted, Eliza was all too aware that her best days were long behind her. She had made good friends during that first, awkward season, but she had not been fool enough to believe that w
hen the young swains crowded around them at balls that she was the object of their attentions. No, it was Diana and Sophia that they hoped to attract, even though it had long been rumored that Diana was very nearly betrothed to the Duke of Hathaway and Sophia had long been infatuated with Lord Alex Selby, a future earl.
Still, tonight, Eliza would be on the arm of The Bloody Duke. It would also be the first night he had appeared with a lady in public. Everyone - including Eliza - knew that he kept mistresses, but he was never so crass as to flaunt them in public, unlike some men of his stature. However, he was always just as careful never to be seen escorting a lady of quality. Tonight, that would all change. Eliza, a woman used to standing on the edges of ballrooms and hiding behind plants, would be that lady. And she had required more than a simple pair of glasses as a shield to protect her from the prying, hurtful eyes of the ton.
Somehow, Nicholas had known, and she silently thanked him for it.
Eliza also thanked him when he had gently but forcefully suggested that other, more talented members of the Framingham household's staff be allowed to help Eliza dress, including seeing to her hair, which was now artfully arranged on the top of her head. Her mother's lady's maid, Karenna, had somehow managed to twine a few strands of amethyst gems through Eliza's honey-wheat locks, making her appear far more sophisticated than she normally did.
When Karenna had added some diamond hairpins to the coiffure, Eliza had thought she was about as elegant as she could possibly be. However, the addition of a diamond teardrop necklace - sent over to the house earlier in the day by Nicholas, of course - had made Eliza feel positively decadent. And pretty. Which was something of a novelty for her.
Eliza knew the gift of the jewelry - or anything else for that matter - was not proper, certainly, but she also knew it was just for show. It did not mean anything. She would return the necklace when this farce of a courtship finally ended, of course. But in the meantime, it was nice to pretend that she had a true rake and scoundrel for a suitor. Even if it was just Nicholas - royal pain in her backside that he was.
Still, for the first time since she had been just out of the schoolroom, she felt pretty. Not beautiful. But pretty. And that was enough.
"There you are!" Eliza had been so lost in her thoughts that she hadn't seen her friend Sophia scurry up to her. "I have been looking everywhere for you! My brother is being a beast. Again! You really must take a turn about the room with me. Please?"
Out of all the women present, Sophia shone brighter than all of the rest combined. She was truly radiant in a gown of crushed silver silk shot through with what looked like copper threads. The colors should have clashed but pink undertones in the silver brought the entire gown together in a mesmerizing creation. As only Madame LaVallier could do.
Sophia also deserved better than the ass God had seen fit to gift her with for an older brother. Lord Adam Reynolds, the Duke of Hathaway had recently garnered something of a reputation as a reprobate, quickly destroying what had previously been a sterling reputation. He had also caused more than one public scandal as of late, including the most recent one last evening at Lord Devonmont's with one Miss Phoebe Banbrook, the granddaughter of an earl whose father was a vicar in Ipswich. Lord only knew what he had done this time.
"Mama, if you will excuse me." Eliza rose but she was also aware that her words were falling upon deaf ears. At the moment, all Clara Deaver could see was the crowd of young ladies around her son. There was a joy that shone so brightly in her eyes that it nearly made Eliza's heart ache - for more than one reason.
Eliza was many things but she was not cruel and with a quick kiss on her mother's cheek, she rose to follow Sophia to the refreshment table. Once they arrived and poured themselves each a cup of very good lemonade, they moved to the side of the room where they might better observe the absolute crush of people arriving by the minute.
"What has your brother done now?" Eliza asked once she and Sophia had settled. "Has he revoked his permission for you to wed Lord Selby?"
Sophia shook her head. "No. No. Nothing like that. He was, however, caught out with Miss Banbrook again this morning. Mama said it was a reaction to Diana becoming betrothed to Lord Hallstone last evening. And perhaps it was." She sighed and swished the lemonade around in her cup. "Personally, I think Miss Banbrook is leading him a merry chase to try and snare a duke. And he is too big of a fool to realize it."
"I can have Nicholas speak to him, if you like." Eliza spoke the words without thinking and then wished she could call them back.
At that, however, Sophia raised and eyebrow. "Nicholas, is it? I see. I also see the reason for your transformation! You are simply breathtaking tonight, Izzy. I have no idea why you did not dress this way before. Men would have been falling all over themselves to get to you." Then she smiled sweetly. "And odd how you never mentioned to either of your two best friends that you were secretly being courted by The Bloody Duke. Imagine my surprise when I read it in The Town Tattler along with everyone else in all of London this morning."
"Sophie, it's not like that," Eliza protested but Sophia just laughed, a light musical sound that had heads turning in their direction.
"Oh, I know it is not. You and Lord Candlewood? I am certain Hades would most likely freeze over before the two of you would actually court." She took a sip of lemonade, truly smiling for the first time that night. Her beatific expression dulled the sharp sting Eliza had felt at her friend's implication that she and Nicholas would not suit. At least it dulled it a little as Sophia blithely continued on. "And I suspect it has much to do with your newly returned brother? Does it not? This is a first, Izzy. No man has received your family's support of his claims before. This man is different, I take it? Perhaps even Stephen himself?"
There was a part of Eliza that desperately wanted to confide in her friend. But she did not dare. Even though Nicholas had not sworn her to secrecy regarding his plan, Eliza knew it was understood. She was not that much of a fool. Nor was she willing to risk losing his help in the matter. Not even for Sophia.
"It is...complicated." Eliza saw the hurt spring immediately into her friend's eyes. "Sophie, I'm sorry. I just can't." Eliza twisted the handle of her reticule, spilling a little lemonade in the process. She was never that careless, yet another indication of how rattled she was over this entire incident. Eliza prided herself for remaining calm in the face of disaster. Just as she had done when Stephen had died. Or they thought he had died. Tonight, for some reason, that noted calm escaped her.
"I understand, Izz. A bit, anyway." Sophia looked at her kindly, the injury now gone from her expression, and Eliza wanted nothing more than to confess everything right on the spot. "And I won't press." She glared across the room to where her brother stood chatting with an unknown young lady of possibly questionable morals. "After all, I have quite enough on my plate at the moment. Including a brother who is making himself a laughingstock in public and ruining my family's good name."
Eliza felt a surge of relief wash over her. "Thank you, Sophia. I would tell you if I could and I promise that when I can speak freely, you shall be the first to know."
"I shall hold you to that promise and we will speak later." Then Sophia smiled. "But in the meantime, I believe there is someone here to see you."
Turning, Eliza followed Sophia's line of vision and had to draw in a quick breath to keep from fainting. Nicholas was here. And he was the most handsome man she had ever seen.
Dressed in all black evening clothes, only the snow white hue of his cravat - which was decorated with an onyx and diamond stick pin - lightened the image he projected at all. Otherwise, he was dark as night and sinfully handsome, his tanned skin blending in with the black superfine of his perfectly cut coat. He had a light stubble of a beard, indicating that he hadn't bothered to shave, which gave him the air of a pirate, hinting at something wild and dangerous inside of him. She could see the first tinges of gray in the hairs, which made him appear all the more rakish and not old, as it might o
n some other men. His rich brown eyes were so dark that from a distance they looked black, and his large, muscled body gave him an air of power so palpable that the entire room nearly vibrated with it. It was his hair, however, that truly pushed him over the edge from merely mysterious to truly dangerous.
Far longer than was acceptable, the dark, black mane fell nearly to his shoulders and a single, unruly lock of hair tumbled down over his eyes, making him appear simply deadly merely by standing there. He also appeared slightly murderous - as if he would happily strangle a man with his bare hands if he could.
In short, he was every fantasy Eliza had ever had about a man, all wrapped up in one neat little package. One that made her stomach quiver in ways she decidedly did not like. Not even one little bit. And he looked nothing like the Nicholas she was used to dealing with. This wasn't Nick. This was a man she did not know. One with no shared past, no Lady Berkshire as his one true love. This was The Bloody Duke - a man that Eliza had never truly met. And he was heading straight for her.
Oh, Lord. She was in trouble. Very, very deep trouble.
Inside, Nicholas was seething, even though he was working extremely hard not to let his runaway emotions show. Just what did Eliza think she was about? Dressing like some common street trollop! In public! At Frost's ball, no less! He had requested that she receive a new gown, not be dressed like a woman from The Golden Temple!
Still, as he crossed the room to where she stood with her friend Sophia, he did his best to try and view the situation from a logical point of view.
He had specifically asked that Eliza receive a gown that was on the very cusp of fashion, as only Madame LaVallier could provide. The bit of gold lace at the bottom indicated that the modiste had done exactly as requested. If he was being truly objective, he would also have to agree that the frock's plum color suited Eliza very well, bringing out the pink in her cheeks and giving her skin a warm glow. He also suspected that the color complimented her eyes, and he was thankful that tonight she had left the heavy black frames - which she did not need anyway, blast the infernal woman and her nitwit ideas! - at home, most likely under the guise of vanity.
The Secret Seduction of Lady Eliza Page 7