The Lady and the Duke_A Dangerous Season Read online

  Elaine realized that her mouth was open in astonishment, and closed it with a snap. "You? A mistress?"

  "Not so loud, drat you," he mumbled, looking around the table to see whether anyone had heard. However, the guests closest to them were chatting. Those further away, closer to the top of the able, watched Sommerforth carving a joint of beef.

  "You haven't any money," she pointed out. She was certain that he wasn't serious. He was making a game of her. "You can't pay Christobel's bills, so how —"

  "I'll ask Linton."

  Lord Linton had married Melly, Elaine's sister. Elaine liked him. He was Pierce's uncle, and very wealthy. But she couldn't believe that he'd indulge his nephew in such a scheme. "He'll think you've run mad."

  "He won't know."

  "You just said that —"

  "I'll ask him to lend me the money for a new carriage." Pierce took the plate of beef a footman had placed on the table in front of them, and forked a couple of slices onto Elaine's plate.

  "You might have asked me whether I wanted the beef," she said crossly.

  "Of course you want it, it's delicious," he responded, unperturbed.

  Although Elaine didn't much care for Christobel, neither did she want Pierce to cause Christobel pain. She sighed, and nodded to the footman who offered her roast potatoes. He put three onto her plate.

  Pierce pinched her. "You won't tell anyone, will you?" He sounded concerned. "I told you in confidence."

  "Idiot boy," she muttered as Pierce spoke to his dining partner on his other side. She tried the beef. He was right. It was delicious.

  A couple of hours later, Elaine admitted to herself that people watched her. Women glanced at her, then held up their fans when they spoke to friends, who also looked at her.

  She didn't like it. The duke claimed one of his dances. He danced wonderfully, guiding her around Sommerforth Abbey's enormous ballroom without effort.

  She didn't like that her body reacted so strongly to his, either. What was the matter with her? Every part of her body tingled when she was in his arms, and she couldn't think. She was relieved when he returned her to her mother.

  Sir Oliver claimed her for his dance. She hadn't meant to agree to dance with him, but she had been speaking with Lord Worley when Sir Oliver bowed to her and took her hand in a familiar manner so that he could inspect her dance card.

  He entered his name on the card, nodded, then bowed to her and Worley, and left them.

  "Sir Oliver is a friend?" Woolley asked.

  She shrugged. "He is betrothed to my friend, Lady Foxton. He's also the great friend of Major Grove, my sister's husband."

  "Why did you ask to dance with me?" She asked later, when she and Oliver moved down the figures of a country dance.

  She was having second thoughts about encouraging Sir Oliver, and realized that she had changed. She was no longer jealous of Felicity — she felt sorry for her. Catherine was right about him. Sir Oliver was dangerous, and he was no gentleman, for all his good looks.

  A few moments later, when the dance brought them together again, he responded: "I think you're having your head turned, Miss Eardley."

  Whatever did he mean? Rather than returning her to her mother when the dance ended, Sir Oliver took her arm and led her out into the garden. He'd tucked her hand underneath his elbow. Elaine couldn't free herself without making a scene.

  She was relieved that the garden was brilliantly lit, but she was cold. "I need my shawl," she said crossly. "I didn't say that I would walk in the garden with you. My partner will be looking for me for the next dance."

  Impatience crossed his handsome features. He glared at her."Everyone is talking about you, and the duke, and even about Lord Worley… You seemed very friendly with Worley at dinner. You're not even in London, and you're making a show of yourself. Is that what you want?"

  "Whatever do you mean?"

  "You're being talked about as the duke's latest flirt."

  Why was he so angry? "How dare you! You have no right —"

  "I have every right. You're a close friend of my wife-to-be. Your brother by marriage is my good friend — I wonder that Mrs. Grove allows you to go on this way… Still, I suppose she's blinded by thoughts of a duke. Of course I can warn you about your behavior — I have every right, since it affects Felicity. Correct your behavior, otherwise your friendship with Felicity will end. I'm pleased that she won't be going to London, if this is how you mean to go on."

  "What?"

  "I've told Felicity that she won't be in London for the season."

  "Of course Felicity will be in London. She and I have made plans."

  "That's precisely it. You have made plans. I'll warrant you have," he said grimly. "I've no mind to bear the expense of a London season so that you can lead her astray."

  "I have nothing to be ashamed of in my behavior," she said hotly. "Which is more than I can say for yours."

  "I suppose you're still complaining about the kisses — you're a child, Elaine."

  She was tired of him. He had no right to speak to her in such a way. "I need to look for my partner for this dance."

  "Stay." He took her arm again. "Walk with me."

  Elaine looked at the set expression on his face, and caught her breath. "You're holding me too tightly." He had such a tight hold on her forearm that it was painful. She couldn't struggle. She was aware that she and Destry had already attracted several quick glances. "I'm cold. Let me go."

  She had to get away from him, but how?

  He ignored her words. "You do realize that the Duke has a mistress, and that his mistress is here, at the Abbey?"

  "Why is everyone so intent on telling me about the duke's mistress? And what of it…? Your mistress, Mrs. Buckland-Wilson, is also here, is she not? Go and dance attendance on her, Oliver. To have you question my behavior is the outside of enough."

  "You would be wise to refuse Sommerforth when he next asks you to dance."

  "Let go of my arm."

  He'd set her hand on his sleeve, with his other hand holding it there. He squeezed her fingers until she winced. Tears came to her eyes. She looked around, but he was large, and he'd backed her against a shrub.

  The leaves were icy on her back.

  "Elaine? I've been looking for you," Pierce said.

  Sir Oliver was forced to release her, and back away.

  "Pierce!" Elaine was close to tears. She shoved at Sir Oliver angrily, then stepped around him to take Pierce's arm.

  Cormac was just behind Pierce, glaring at Sir Oliver over the top of Elaine's head. He moved to stand between her and Sir Oliver.

  "What's the matter?" Pierce frowned down at her.

  "Nothing. Take me back to the house, I'm cold."

  Rather than take her back into the ballroom, Pierce guided her through the library doors. "Get her shawl," he told Cormac. He marched Elaine to the large fire crackling in the hearth.

  She held out her hands to the flames.

  "You're shaking… what did Destry say to you?" Pierce's voice was harsh.

  "It's nothing." Elaine forced herself to smile through gritted teeth. She rubbed her arms. She couldn't seem to stop shivering.

  "You shouldn't have gone into the garden with him, nor with anyone, for that matter."

  She glanced at Pierce. His tone was full of censure. "I don't know how to say this," he looked down at his shoes. "You're very young, Elaine. You're not aware of…"

  He cleared his throat.

  "Nothing happened, Pierce." Elaine folded her arms, rubbing her upper arms for warmth.

  Luckily Cormac appeared. He put her cashmere shawl about her shoulders, inspecting at her closely. "I'll fetch Mrs. Grove."

  "No! No, Cormac. It's all right. Please, don't…" She shuddered. What if Catherine had seen Sir Oliver dragging her into the garden? "I just got chilled, that's all. I must go back the ballroom."

  Cormac stepped away.

  Pierce settled himself into a large leather chair. He frowned at her.
"Warm yourself first." He hesitated for a moment. "Sir Oliver upset you. How?"

  She had a flash of inspiration. "He told me that Felicity wasn't coming to London. He says he's no mind to bear the expense, when they are already engaged."

  He looked relieved. "Ah. I see. Of course that would upset you. Lady Foxton is your friend. But see here, of course Sir Oliver is right. She's no need to go to London for the season… and you will make other friends."

  Elaine couldn't remember much about the rest of the ball.

  She was too focused on maintaining a relaxed demeanor. To her relief, Catherine hadn't noticed that Elaine had disappeared from the ballroom for half an hour.

  However, when Worley extended his arm to her for the dance — which should have been the duke’s, she was disappointed. "David asked me to make his apologies, Miss Eardley. He deeply regrets, but he's had a message from London which requires an immediate reply."

  Later, after Denise had helped her to undress, and she tried to relax enough to go to sleep, she was still upset about Sir Oliver. She made up her mind that not only wouldn't she allow herself to be alone with him, she would cut him when they next met.

  A week before Christmas, 1815, Gostwicke Hall, England

  Gostwicke Hall had been in a bustle for a month. The activity increased in the week before Christmas. Eardley relatives had started arriving. They would stay at the Hall until after the Boxing Day Hunt.

  Mrs. Eardley kept to her rooms with a cold, but Catherine had everything in hand. She and Anne managed their guests and their guests' servants, while Elaine had charge of the stables, and the preparations for the hunt.

  Not only had the Eardleys' house guests brought their horses, but horses had also arrived from guests who would be taking part in the hunt. The duke had sent three horses, with three grooms, and Elaine made certain that their accommodations were of the best.

  "What's the matter with Mother?" Elaine asked Catherine when she met her in the kitchen. She had visited her mother in her rooms, but Mrs. Eardley had barely lifted her head to greet her.

  "It's Henry. Mother won't admit it, but she's upset that Henry is not coming home for Christmas," Catherine told her.

  Catherine took a gingerbread biscuit from a cooling rack, snapped it in two, and inhaled its aroma. "Very good Mary, a lovely texture. Could you make another three dozen of these for the tenants? And the same of shortbread. Anne's organizing the tenants' hampers. We need to have the hampers ready for the morning of Christmas Eve."

  Then Catherine flipped open the ledger she carried, and ran her finger down a list. "Mary — what of the Christmas cakes?"

  "I've got them in hand, ma'am… I'll bake another six this week, of a goodly size. I've already sent off the cakes for the tenants and for the neighboring families."

  "Thank you." Catherine turned back to Elaine. "I could shake the child. Henry's still in a sulk because I insisted that she be sent off to school. I didn't do it to be unkind. Henry's 15. She can't be allowed to run completely wild. She must learn to be a proper young lady in time for her season."

  Henry — Henrietta — their youngest sister, who was completely horse-mad, had been sent to a lady's school in York. She spent her weekends with Bunny, Mrs. Eardley's sister, who lived in York. "I thought she liked the school," Elaine said. "She's got her horses there, and she's made friends."

  "I know — but nevertheless, Mother wanted her to come home for Christmas. Henry can be irritating. I thought that she'd be here. It's not like her to miss the Boxing Day Hunt."

  Elaine knew that Mrs. Eardley was upset because Melly and her new husband, Lord Linton, would not be at Gostwicke Hall for Christmas either.

  Henry's letter was on Mrs. Eardley's desk in the library. It was almost curt. It thanked her mother for the walking gown and pelisse she had sent, and wished them all a Merry Christmas.

  Like Catherine, Elaine would cheerfully have shaken Henry as well. She felt like sending Henry a sharp letter, but knew that that would be a mistake. Henry could be contrary. Pressed too hard, she'd do something outrageous.

  Two mornings later, Elaine was in the stables with a couple of Eardley cousins, when Cormac arrived from the house. He indicated with a jerk of his head that he wanted with speak to her privately, so she followed him into the tack room.

  "Ma'm, Mrs. Grove's compliments — Sir Oliver has arrived. He will escort Mrs. Grove to London, immediately. Major Grove has fallen ill, and he's staying at Eardley House. Mrs. Grove asks that you attend on Sir Oliver while he waits for her."

  The major was Sir Oliver's good friend. Elaine knew that any communication from Major Grove would upset Catherine. She wondered whether Sir Oliver and Felicity still planned on staying at The Oaks over Christmas.

  She left Cormac to deal with the cousins and hurried back to the house. By the time she had taken off her cloak, and had changed her riding boots for slippers, Catherine and Sir Oliver had emerged from the library.

  Catherine's mouth was set in a firm line. "I must go to London," Catherine told Elaine. She looked distracted. "Could you manage some food for Sir Oliver while he waits?"

  "Of course." Elaine curtsied to Sir Oliver, and led him to the morning room. Mr. Morley, the butler, had already arranged refreshments. She offered tea, for but Sir Oliver shook his head.

  "If I might, ma'am…" Mr Morley bowed, and poured Sir Oliver a glass of brandy.

  "Thank you. Just what I needed." Sir Oliver drained the glass.

  Elaine waited to speak until Mr. Morley had left the room, leaving the door open. Cormac looked in for a moment, and nodded to her. She knew that he wanted her to know that he was just outside the door. She was grateful to him, but she wasn't afraid of Sir Oliver. She had almost forgotten his behavior at the duke's Christmas Ball.

  "Please don't leave me in suspense, Sir Oliver. What's happened to the major — why need Catherine attend him in London?"

  "Major Grove is ill. I couldn't leave him in his rooms, he only had a man to attend him, and the man's an utter incompetent. So I took him to Eardley House. I thought it for the best."

  Elaine understood. The relationship between Catherine and her husband had entirely broken down. They communicated only through their legal men, but if her husband was ill, Catherine would see to his care.

  But why did this have to happen now, when they had a house full of people, and the stable full of horses? How would she and Anne manage? Even when she was well, Mrs. Eardley left the management of the Hall to Catherine.

  Elaine left Sir Oliver to his brandy and went up to Catherine's rooms. Anne was already there. She and two maids were packing a trunk and two smaller bags, while Catherine's maid helped her to dress.

  "How long will you stay?"

  Catherine snorted. "Until he's on his feet or in his grave, I imagine. I'm sorry to leave everything to you and Anne."

  Within an hour, two carriages rolled down Gostwicke Hall's long driveway. Sir Oliver and Catherine were in his carriage; the other conveyed Catherine's baggage and her maid.

  On the day before Christmas Eve, a liveried footman from Sommerforth Abbey arrived with a note for Elaine, and a gift.

  Elaine had just returned from a ride with a couple of cousins, and stared at Cormac and the footman.

  The footman handed her the note.

  Mrs. Grove mentioned to me that you'd lost your favorite small poodle, and wanted another. I have a pup you might enjoy; she's the last of her litter, is very well behaved in the house, and knows several tricks. Her name is Lilly.

  He'd signed Sommerforth, with a flourish.

  "I left the pup in the carriage, ma'am," the footman offered.

  She and Cormac followed him up to front of house. A coachman walked the horses, whose backs had been covered with rugs against the cold.

  The footman opened the carriage door, and said, "Come, walk, Lilly."

  A small black poodle of around four months' of age jumped merrily out, and sat down in front of the footman. He clipped a lead to her
collar, then walked to Elaine, bowed, and handed her the lead.

  Elaine knelt beside the poodle, which had delicate white feet. "So, Lilly?" She asked.

  The dog looked at her, titling its small head from side to side as if it assessed her, then sniffed her gloved hand. Elaine smiled.

  "She does tricks?" Elaine asked the footman.

  "Yes ma'am. She'll retrieve anything — balls — and birds, if you take her on a shoot. She'll dance on her hind legs if you ask her to dance… and of course, she knows all the usual obedience commands. Will you accept her, ma'am?"

  Elaine realized that she'd been smiling ever since she'd read Sommerforth's note. "Of course. She's delightful. I can see that she's very clever from the intelligence in her eyes. Please thank his grace for me. You won't stay to rest the horses, and take a meal?"

  "No ma'am, thank you. We have a change of horses waiting for us on the road, and we'll take a quick meal then. Merry Christmas to you."

  With that, the footman bowed, the second coachman pulled the rugs from the horses and folded them, and within a couple of minutes, the carriage rolled down the drive.

  Lilly whined.

  "It's all right, my sweet." Elaine leaned down to pat her, then handed the lead to Cormac. "Will you take her to Denise? Ask her to organize a basket for her. I'll come into the house in a few moments, I need to see to a one of my cousins' mounts."

  Cormac chuckled. "Lilly has her own basket, blankets, collars, leads, bowls… they've been taken up to your rooms."

  "I see…" She watched Lilly prance away beside Cormac, and laughed softly. A dog — she and Sommerforth hadn't discussed dogs at all.

  After she'd lost her poodle, she hadn't had the heart to look for another. Now she had Lilly. It was the perfect Christmas present.

  5

  Christmas Eve, Gostwicke Hall

  On the afternoon of Christmas Eve a large party from The Oaks arrived at Gostwicke Hall.

  Felicity was among them. Elaine avoided her friend as much as she could. She didn't want to speak to Felicity. She heard Christobel say that Sir Oliver was still in London, and that was a relief.