A Duke of Her Own (3 page)

Hawk saw Lady Louisa flinch, and his heart went out to her. Obviously none of this was easy for any of them. “See here, Falconridge,” he said,
“there’s no cause to take your frustrations out on Lady Louisa.”

Falconridge bowed slightly. “My apologies, my lady. I’ve been accused on more than one occasion of having too much pride, but, along with my title, it is all that is left to me, so I shall hang on to it for a bit longer if you don’t mind. I bid you all good night and shall see myself out.”

He’d spun on his heel and was halfway across the room before Ravensley called out, “Falcon—”

“Let him go,” Hawk said. “Less competition for us.”

Ravensley turned and glared at his sister. “That didn’t go well at all, now did it? You somehow managed to insult one of my friends—”

“While you managed to insult me. I am not temperamental.”

Ah, but she did have a temper. It was there in her eyes, flaring brightly, turning the blue slightly darker until it resembled the hottest flame in a fire. God help him, Hawk felt his body tightening with desire at the very sight of so much emotion. Had he ever seen a woman exhibit true anger? The women he usually entertained were only too pleased to have his attention. They would certainly never challenge, rebuff, or question him. He fully expected Lady Louisa to fling the book at her brother at any moment. She was grasping it so hard that her knuckles were turning white.

“All women are temperamental,” Ravensley stated flatly. “You are a woman, and, therefore, it stands to reason you are temperamental.”

“That is a ludicrous assumption, equal to saying all men are dolts.”

“Now see here—”

“No, you see.”

She rose swiftly. She was breathing harshly, quickly, her breasts straining against the fabric of her gown, and Hawk’s body tightened further. He was going to be in a rather embarrassing predicament if he suddenly had to come to his feet. He tried to focus on reading the title of the book she was holding, anything, anything, to avert his attention from her directly.

She was the daughter of an earl, the sister to his most trusted friend, not some common doxy. His reaction was entirely inappropriate, not to mention highly disconcerting.

“It’s because of my mistress, isn’t it?” Ravensley was saying, and Hawk wondered what else of the conversation he might have missed, what had led to that assumption. “You don’t approve, you never have, and yet you must realize all gentlemen of good breeding have a mistress.”

“I don’t,” Hawk said laconically, which brought two sets of blue eyes to bear down on him. He wasn’t certain why he’d felt a need to defend himself, to offer up something that might cause him to gain a bit of favor with Lady Louisa. He was attempting to pursue his matrimonial goals, and she served as the shortest, least bothersome path to his destination. Or at least those had been his thoughts before this fiasco of a meeting.

“Lady Louisa, you had stated earlier, before
tempers began to flare, that you did not consider us worthy of an introduction. Would you care to elaborate on how you arrived at your assessment? After all, it is quite possible you have misconceptions where we are concerned.”

She hugged the book to her chest as though it could serve as a shield. “When my brother returns home at dawn, after spending an evening in your company, he reeks of alcohol and cheap perfume. He must be assisted up the stairs, and his tongue is quite loose. I shall not embarrass either of us by repeating his utterances. Suffice it to say I know no lady is safe in your presence, you value only the conquest, but not the prize, and are usually quick to discard what you have won. How can I recommend you to a lady for whom I have been given the responsibility of ensuring her lifelong happiness?”

Rubbing his index finger below his lower lip, he studied her solemnly. She knew quite a bit more about him than he realized. Little wonder she’d not favor him with an introduction. “I thought her happiness was dependent upon her acquiring a title. What lady wouldn’t be thrilled by the prospect of becoming a duchess?”

“And when the novelty of being a duchess wears off?”

“Hopefully by the time that happens, I shall have my heir and my spare, and I will not fault her for seeking her happiness elsewhere.”

“And her pleasure?”

He was taken aback by her question. What did
ladies of quality know about pleasure? In particular, what did Lady Louisa know? Was her knowledge acquired through experience or hearsay? What exactly had Ravensley mumbled as he was carted up the stairs to bed, and what questions might she have asked him in his vulnerable state when he was most likely to have a loose tongue? Seemed it was so loose, Hawk was damned surprised it hadn’t fallen out.

Hawk cleared his throat. “Of course. I would never deny a woman the opportunity for pleasure.”

She regarded him closely as though trying to determine if his words should be taken at face value or had an underlying meaning. If she were any other woman, he would have intended a double entendre. He was balanced on a fine edge here, feeling as though he were only just seeing her for the first time, and he could not deny he was intrigued…was in danger of flirting with her, enticing her to see things his way. Seduction was a great convincer.

“How terribly generous of you,” she finally stated.

“I thought so.”

“I’m sorry, Your Grace, but you’ve said nothing to convince me that I should recommend you. If anything, you have managed to reinforce my belief you would be entirely unsuitable.”

“Your stance seems a bit harsh.”

“Be that as it may, it is my stance. However, on the off chance I have misjudged your suitability,
I won’t do anything to undermine your—or my brother’s—attempts to win the ladies over, but neither will I encourage you to seek their favor, nor shall I encourage them to favor you.”

“Louisa—”

“My mind is set, Alex,” she said, effectively cutting off whatever plea Ravensley was on the verge of delivering. “Now, if you gentlemen will excuse me, I have a great many matters that need my attention before I leave on the morrow.”

Her repeatedly finding fault with Hawk had effectively doused his desire. He came to his feet easily, bowing slightly. “I appreciate your forthrightness, Lady Louisa.”

“I did not mean to be cruel.”

“I do not believe you could be cruel if you tried. I further appreciate that you take your responsibilities so seriously.”

“If I may be so bold, Your Grace, perhaps it is time you did the same.”

“I
am
trying, my lady.”

“There are Americans for whom I’m not responsible—”

“But none so wealthy. And while you may find fault with me, allow me to reassure you I’m not one to settle for less when I can have more.”

“Yes, based on my brother’s ramblings, I understand you are a man who prefers excess in all things.”

Hawk was damned tempted to snatch the book from her hands and hurl it at her brother. It was not often he was speechless.

“I believe my point has been taken,” she said quietly. “I bid you a good night.” Without waiting for them to reply, she strolled gracefully from the room.

“I damned well don’t believe her refusing to help us,” Ravensley said, once the door closed behind her.

“I have to wonder exactly what you might have said while you were bumbling up the stairs,” Hawk countered.

“Nothing of any consequence, I assure you. Late nights, drinking, carousing…I suppose I can’t blame her for thinking poorly of us. But no matter. We are still the best of the lot, and we should have no trouble winning the hands of the Rose sisters. Some brandy to toast the challenge that awaits us?”

“By all means.”

Hawk glanced back toward the door. He feared a greater challenge than gaining the attention of a Rose daughter might be hovering on the horizon. For him, the challenge might turn out to be ignoring the Rose chaperone.

“I
can hardly signify that you insulted my friends to the degree that you did.”

Louisa understood perfectly that Alex was not only furious but hurt. She’d done more than insult his friends; she’d wounded him to the core. She folded her shawl with extreme care, not because the woolen garment was particularly delicate but because she felt fragile at the moment and needed something comforting to steady her. Speaking the truth had been no easier for her than hearing it had been for them.

“I’m sorry, Alex, but as I stated, I’ve been charged with finding appropriate husbands for these ladies, and you and your friends are hardly appropriate.”

“The ladies are looking for titled husbands. You
don’t get much more titled than a duke, unless you latch on to royalty, and I daresay that’s not going to happen. We are all very nicely titled, thank you very much.”

Louisa placed the shawl in the trunk. She’d dismissed her maid the moment Alex had barged into her bedroom. While the door remained ajar and the possibility existed that the servants would overhear the conversation, they were all adept at keeping their master’s business to themselves. Or at least they had been when they were properly paid. Several had sought employment elsewhere. The three who remained were quite loyal.

“It is the ladies’ mother who is so set on their acquiring titled husbands, not the ladies themselves.” She faced Alex. “They are seeking love and passion. How can I, with a clear conscience, recommend gentlemen who in all likelihood can never give them love, who want them solely for financial reasons?”

“Do you honestly believe you will find a peer anywhere in England who will not look upon them and first hear the clinking of sovereigns?”

“We can always hope.”

“You are not that naïve. Just this morning you were lamenting your own impoverished state and how it guaranteed that you would never have a husband.”

“Yet you were arguing that a man would see my true worth. Can the same not be said for these American heiresses?”

He turned to the window, gazing out on the
night-shrouded gardens, his hands clasped tightly behind his back. He seldom got cross with her, but when he did his temper could be quite frightful. She knew he was attempting to regain control of his emotions before he said something they might both regret.

Gathering up her courage, she took a tentative step toward him. “Jenny and Kate are extremely kind and so very young and much more naïve than I. They argue over which comes first: passion or love. Jenny wants passion and Kate wants love, and I’m well aware that in all likelihood they will find themselves married to an aloof lord who will grant them neither passion nor love. While I could argue all night they are my main concern, in reality, it is myself for whom I worry.”

She saw him stiffen, his back going straighter than before, and she took another step toward him. “I will be their chaperone for only a short while. It is an odd sort of venture. In order to be successful, I must not be in the position overly long. One Season, two at the most. The heiresses will be married, and I will be searching for another lady in need of my services. I must be known as a chaperone who delivers what she promises: a lord of the highest caliber. You and your friends have proven on more than one occasion that you do not qualify.”

He spun around. “If I were to marry one of these heiresses, you would not have to seek another lady to chaperone. You would have an allowance. I would see after your needs, and with a
generous settlement, I would be in a position to offer a dowry and find you a husband. Do you not see that we are in the ideal position to help each other?”

“You are asking me to compromise my integrity.”

“You owe these ladies nothing!”

“Have you never made a promise?”

“Of course, I’ve made promises.”

“Did you keep them?”

She could see in his startled eyes that he’d recognized the trap she’d set. She loved him dearly, but sometimes he clearly underestimated the cleverness of women.

“Did you?” she prodded.

“Yes,” he finally admitted reluctantly.

“Why?”

“Because it was the honorable thing to do.”

“Do you expect less of me?”

“I suppose not.” He was clearly disgruntled with the truth, but at least his temper had waned. “Still, I think you have vastly underrated us as possible matches for your ladies.”

She smiled benignly. “You perhaps. But not Falconridge. And certainly not Hawkhurst.”

Without a doubt Hawkhurst was the worst of the lot. Her brother had gotten into no mischief whatsoever before that one had come into his life.

“We enjoy having a jolly good time. I don’t see that as a fault.”

“Drinking, carousing, and getting into mischief until dawn…the very fact you don’t see these
behaviors as a fault is what makes you so very unsuitable.”

“Rather convoluted thinking there, Louisa.”

“Not from where I stand. I wish I could recommend you, I truly do, but I simply can’t.”

“But you won’t speak unfavorably about us?”

“Did I not say exactly that earlier?”

“Yes, but you are a woman, and women are fickle.”

“You have such a poor opinion of women, it is a wonder you are seeking to find a wife.”

“It is my obligation to do so.”

“Yet one more reason why you would not be suitable.”

He laughed boisterously. “Do you honestly believe any man
wants
to get married?”

“I would think so, yes.”

“Trust me, dear sister, when I tell you that
no
man desires marriage.”

Louisa had always thought moving out of the home in which she’d been born and raised would come about only when she was moving into the home of the man she’d married. It was a strange experience indeed to stand in a bedchamber that was not hers and to try to envision it as hers—temporarily to be sure—but for several weeks, perhaps months. Perhaps years!

She had stayed at the country estate of friends, but never for more than a few days. She had been a visitor, a welcomed guest.

Within this household, she was something else
entirely. Certainly not family. Not quite a servant. Not a friend.

With a sigh she sat on the bed, on the unfamiliar comforter. She was a chaperone, and this was now her home. In time, she would move on to another. Like a gypsy. With no one place to call her own.

She’d known she’d pay this price when she’d made her decision to place her advert. It was silly to be melancholy because her endeavor had resulted in success.

She watched as her personal maid, Colette, assigned to her by Mrs. Rose, transferred her things from her trunks to her wardrobe. She’d brought all her clothing and feared much of it might be too fancy for one in her recently acquired position. She should blend into the woodwork. During her previous Seasons, her own chaperone, a married cousin, had been exceedingly discreet, and Louisa planned to follow her example. To draw no attention to herself but to be very attentive of her charges and any gentlemen who gave them notice.

When she was finished, Colette had a footman carry the trunks away, then she left with the promise to return to help Louisa prepare for dinner. That was a promising sign. At least Mrs. Rose didn’t expect her to eat in the kitchen with the servants.

With a sigh, Louisa got up, walked to the window, and looked out on the street. She was not the lady of the house. She didn’t have to see to the
meals or discuss daily menus with the cook. It was rather unsettling to be free and yet fettered. What in the world was she to do with her time?

She needed to arrange a social calendar, and in order to do that, she needed to review the invitations that the ladies had received. She also needed to make a list of necessary introductions.

The responsibilities suddenly overwhelmed her, because the truth was that beneath each task was the burden of finding the proper husband for these ladies. Yet how did one know who the proper husband was?

A soft rap on the door had her turning away from the window and her thoughts. Before she could bid entry, the door opened, and Jenny slipped her head inside and smiled brightly. “Are you all settled?”

“For now.”

“Care for some company?”

“I’d love some company.”

“Wonderful.” She marched into the room, dragging Kate, who was holding a book, along behind her. “We thought we could discuss our expectations.”

“That’s a splendid idea,” Louisa said.

“
She
thought we could discuss our expectations,” Kate said, jerking her head toward her sister. “I can’t see that any discussion is going to make any difference at all.”

“I brought the invitations,” Jenny said, handing a small bundle to Louisa.

“Lovely. I was just thinking that I needed to
see where you stood among”—how to phrase it politely—“those issuing invitations.”

“Don’t worry,” Kate said. “We get only the finest. Bertie was quite taken with Jenny.”

“The Prince of Wales has acknowledged you?”

Jenny shrugged. “He smiled at me. We had a single dance. Nothing more than that really.”

“Your mother must have been delighted.”

“An understatement,” Kate said. “Judging by her reaction, you would have thought she expected Jenny to become a princess. Unfortunately for you, that’s when she got the notion to hire a social chaperone.”

“Actually, I’m quite pleased that she did,” Louisa said.

Jenny sat on the bed. “Now, tell us about you.”

Kate took a seat in a nearby chair, surprising Louisa by not opening her book and burying her nose in it.

“There’s really not much to say,” Louisa said, sitting in a chair and beginning to sift through the invitations. She had to admit to being quite impressed. They were being invited to soirees hosted by the upper crust.

“Have you ever been in love?” Kate asked.

“No.” Louisa did not look up.

“Have you ever known passion?” Jenny asked.

Louisa looked up then. “I don’t mean to be rude, but truly, you girls need to broaden your horizons. Your topics of conversation seem to be terribly narrow. Tell me what you like to do.”

“I like to read,” Kate said.

“What a revelation!” Jenny exclaimed, with a roll of her eyes. “She never would have guessed that.”

“What do you like to read?” Louisa asked, ignoring Jenny’s sarcasm.

“Romantic stories.”

“What else do you like?” Louisa asked, encouraged, feeling at long last that she might be making progress.

“Chocolate. Which is the reason I’m more round than Jenny. I like to eat chocolate while reading.”

“And she does an inordinate amount of reading,” Jenny said.

“I’m not certain it’s possible to read too much,” Louisa said.

“She never goes anywhere without a book in hand.”

“Because I’m easily bored by your company,” Kate said. “I must have something to keep me entertained.”

“Ladies, I believe we’ve once again strayed from our topic,” Louisa said, before more insults could be delivered. “You were to tell me what you enjoy doing.”

“I prefer being outdoors,” Jenny said. “I love riding horses and bicycles.”

“Bicycles?” Louisa asked. “Aren’t they rather unsteady?”

“The high wheeler, yes. I tried that once and took a topple. Have a little scar right above my brow,” she said, pointing. “The high-wheeled
tricycle is safer, and I’ve tried it, but I don’t really enjoy safe. Do you?”

“Of course, I enjoy being safe.”

“But safe is boring,” Jenny said, shifting around on the bed until she was lying on her stomach, her chin resting on her hands. “I like excitement.”

“So you want a husband who is exciting,” Louisa said, striving to narrow the girl’s wants down.

“Most assuredly. Handsome, as we’ve already established. And a fine kisser. Which of the lords have you experienced?”

Louisa felt as though she’d just swallowed the sun, and the heat was radiating out of her body. “I beg your pardon?”

“Which of the lords have you kissed?”

Slowly she shook her head in disbelief. “I’ve not kissed any.”

“Not any?” Kate asked, sounding as shocked as Jenny appeared.

“No, it’s improper to kiss…at least until you are engaged.”

“But how will you know if you like his kiss?” Jenny asked. “What if he’s…slobbery, like a dog?”

“Well, I…I hadn’t given any thought to that.”

Jenny swung her legs around and sat up. “I’d heard you English girls didn’t kiss, but I hadn’t really given any credence to it.”

“We kiss,” Louisa said defensively. “I’ve been
kissed on the hand, and once a gentleman kissed me on the cheek.”

Jenny covered her mouth. “Oh, my dear Lord, how scandalous! On the cheek? Left or right?”

Louisa thought back. “Left.”

“Thank God. If it had been your right, you might have had to marry him. A kiss on the right is much more scandalous.”

“Leave her be, Jenny,” Kate said. “In truth you give your kisses away much too freely.”

“I like kissing,” Jenny said. She gave her attention to Louisa. “We don’t have chaperones in America. We are a bit more free to experience passion.”

“But you are not in America now, and you must respect our traditions,” Louisa said. “You are seeking to entice a lord into marriage. You must be proper at all times lest you lose his esteem for you.”

“He won’t like me if I allow him to kiss me?”

Louisa sighed. “He would not favor a woman who was easy to entice…into misconduct.”

“Then I ask again. How will I know if I will favor his kiss if I do not experience his kiss?”

“Is his kiss so important?”

“Most assuredly. Don’t you agree, Kate?”

“It’s not often that I agree with Jenny, but on this matter, I must admit, she is right.”

“Would you not marry a man because you didn’t like his kiss?” Louisa asked.

“Now, that I do not know,” Kate said. “It would
depend on whether or not he loved me, I suppose.”

Suddenly Louisa felt terribly naïve, young, and unsophisticated next to these ladies. She’d mistakenly thought they were the innocent ones. “So if you won’t make your decision based on his kiss, why is it so important that you experience his kiss?”