An Apple Pie for a Duke (6 page)

Oh,
it was good to be him; people feared him, left him alone, admired him
from a distance but were too cowed to---

“
Why
Surrey, my boy,” a baritone voice intoned right next to him. “What
a pleasure to see you.”

Dominic's
head snapped around. It was the Hugh Percy, formally known as His
Grace the Duke of Northumberland.

“
Northumberland!”
Dominic croaked.

“
Nice
ball, don't you agree my boy?” The older duke smiled benevolently.
“Nicest one this season.”

“
I
beg your pardon, but I couldn't tell. It's my first.” There were
only a few men in England who commanded Dominic's respect.
Northumberland was one of them.

“
Come
to find a bride, eh? It's high time.”

Dominic
felt heat rising below his neck cloth.
Control
yourself, Dominic!

“
No,
not at all,” he said calmly. “My sister Clara will be coming out
next year and I regard it as my personal duty to oversee her debut. I
personally inspect the venues she might go to and the people she
might frequent. I'm a strong believer in the supervision of the
young.”

Northumberland
was not one to give up easily. “But there are so many lovely girls
for you to pick from! Look. That brunette there. She's the daughter
of an earl! Pretty and wealthy, too.”

“
A
little too young, maybe?” Dominic grinned and finally felt the
effect of the brandy and the champagne. That brunette Northumberland
had pointed out was indeed an especially pretty girl.

He
smiled.

Northumberland
poked him in the ribs and said nothing.

“
No,
seriously, Northumberland,” Dominic declared confidently. “I
don't have the slightest intention of getting married.”

Just
then, another familiar voice, a female voice, came from behind.
“Pardon me, Your Grace. Would Your Grace be so kind and let us
pass?”

8.

London,
same time and place

“
I
have no tolerance for balls,” Flora said. “They are crowded and
stuffy. How's one supposed to find a spouse in all this noise? I'd
like to know my future husband's voice before I married him, wouldn't
you?”

“
You
are very rigorous, Flora,” Gigi disagreed. “You must make them
talk while you're dancing. I've developed a catalogue of questions
and I call it the
Cotillion
Questionnaire
.
It covers philosophy, botany and literature, as well as geography and
Latin. It has never failed me.”

Flora
beamed at Gigi. “I believe it never failed chasing men away.”

“
Exactly!”
Gigi laughed.

“
Why
does
one have to get
married anyway?” Flora asked cynically. “I think I'd enjoy being
a spinster. I could be somebody's lady companion and spend my days in
Bath, reading novels and taking the waters.” She put on an
exaggeratedly straight-laced face.

Gigi
twinkled at her friend in complete understanding. “Oh, what a
wonderful life that would be! But now, I believe we had better go
back inside. Our mothers will notice our extended
absentia
from the dance-floor.
Mine keeps insinuating on how much she hates coming to London and how
she had done it for my benefit alone. I have to keep up appearances
and at least pretend to be, well, husbanding.”

“
Husbanding.”
Flora wrinkled her nose in thought. “I like that word. Tally ho,
let's go a-husbanding.”

“
Hurray!”

They
got up and ignored the array of young gentlemen courteously bowing to
them.

Two
more men who were watching the girls twirling within blocked the
entrance to the ballroom. One was of medium height and balding. The
other one was--- the other one was--- THE OTHER ONE WAS---
Help!

Lady
Serena Locksley was
dancing right in front of the delicious Dominic and had drawn his
attention. Gigi's head was instantly on fire. Her stomach too.
Needles.
There are needles in my heart! I will bleed to death!

“
A
little too young maybe?” The duke chortled. For an instant the two
men standing in front of Gigi were silent, then Surrey said “No,
seriously, Northumberland. I don't have the slightest intention of
getting married.”

His
words felt like a cold shower.

So,
Dominic, you don’t want to get married, well, since I’d never
marry you anyway, I couldn’t care less, you puffed up pompous---
what happened to your accent anyway? Where did the vowels come from?

 
Gigi
braced herself.

She
had seen and heard enough!

How
they had ogled that stupid cow Serena Locksley!

Blah
blah blah,
a
little young
maybe, a little young maybe! Keep your big mouth shut, Dominic St.
Yves, you disgusting lecher!

Of
course he was a disgusting lecher, how naïve had she been?

He
was a known rake who frequented opera singers and ballet dancers. He
was the favourite subject of gossip in the kingdom's drawing rooms.
Everybody suspected him to be the most wicked and corrupted libertine
who spent more time in Paris than anywhere else.

Gigi
alone had believed him to be a lonely wolf, her dark and broody hero,
who hid a noble heart behind a nimbus of darkness.

Oxymoron!
“Nimbus of darkness”. I'll have to remember this one--- wait.
Hold on! How can I think of oxymorons NOW? I must be ill! Seriously
ill!

It's
all his fault.

He
infected me at that bookstore, no; he infected me years ago, when I
was only a child! But not anymore, Your Grace, not anymore! I'll
stand against you and your forces of hell, now and forever will I
hold the flag of resistance high! Until my dying day shall I defy
thee, Satan! I'm the daughter of a great commander and I'll prove
myself worthy. Engarde, Your Grace! For England!

“
Pardon
me, Your Grace. Would Your Grace be so kind and let us pass?”

Not
too bad. A little squeaky, but firm. That's done. What now?

The
dark eyes were on her now but Gigi was prepared.

He
stepped aside.

He
bowed.

“
Lady
Eugenia.” His voice was deep and soft. It touched Gigi's core like
sheer silk touches naked skin. What had happened to hissing and
snarling? And his perfect eyes, they looked so tender, so soft,
almost as soft and tender as those of Mr. Wimple!

I
shall not falter! I shall not fail!

She
took Flora by the hand and nodded primly, then she walked until she
had reached the other end of the ballroom.

“
You
know
him,”
Flora whispered hysterically. “Truly, you know
him
?
Why haven't you told me?”

“
I
only just met you!” Gigi tried to get her thoughts back in order.

“
It
would have been the first thing you should've said to me,” Flora
insisted. “
It's
a pleasure to meet you, Miss Parker, I personally know the Duke of
Surrey
.”

“
But
I don't! He attacked me in a bookshop, he doesn't even know who I am!
He’s the most supercilious man in the world.”

Flora
stared at her. “He didn't know who you were when he said “
Lady
Eugennnniaaaaaaah”
?” She mimicked the duke quite well, Gigi
thought.

“
And
he didn't know who you were when he said, “
I'm
the most handsome man in England, I'm the richest man in England, I'm
the tallest man in England, look at me, Lady Eugennnniaaaaaaah
?””

“
He
didn't say that!”

Flora
shook her head in despair.

Gigi
frowned. “I'm sure he's not the tallest man in England. He's not
much taller than the others.”

“
Of
course not! I was only jesting,” Flora hissed.

“
He
wants to shoot my cousin!”

“
We
shouldn't let ourselves be hindered by trifles, dear. Or rifles, for
that matter.”

“
Why
did he call me Lady Eugenia? The correct address is Miss Cartwright.
He's such a snooty ass.”

“
He's
a beautiful ass. And he's coming.”

“
What?”
Gigi gasped. She glanced over her shoulder. Dominic St. Yves was
slowly advancing, making his way through the crowd.

“
What
does he want from me? Oh, I'm sure it's about that wretched book.”

“
What
book?”

“
My
mother gave him a book for his sister and she told him I had enjoyed
it. Now he'll let me know how stupid he thinks I am!”

“
Dear
Gigi,” Flora admonished. “You can't seriously think that
one
book
could
give him that idea. He'll think what all other men think. That you
are the most beautiful girl in the room.”

“
It
was
The
Birds of Cheltenham Gardens,
”
Gigi
whimpered.

“
Ouch,”
Flora grimaced. “That's another matter then. Well, good luck to
you. Here comes.”

The
duke halted in front of Gigi.

“
Miss
Cartwright. Would you honour me with a dance?”

Gigi
felt Flora's eyes on her. In fact, all eyes were on her, not only
those of Flora. But Gigi had other problems.

I'm
poised, I'm strong. If he wants to dance, let's dance!

“
I
would, Your Grace,” Gigi said.

He
took her by the arm and lighting struck her, but she had clad her
heart in iron and her hands in gloves. She was safe.

The
orchestra played a waltz. Of all dances, it had to be a waltz!

“
Miss
Cartwright, I wish to apologise for my behaviour at Bond Street,”
the duke said in a matter-of-fact non-snarling manner. “I'd been
under some pressure that day, I hadn't meant to take it out on you.”

S
omebody
must've reproached him for having behaved so rudely!

“
Have
you, Your Grace?” Gigi tried to sound like her mother speaking to
the vicar back home in Yorkshire – aloof, yet conciliatory. 
“I hadn't
even
noticed. In fact, I'd already forgotten the incident, there were so
many fascinating books in that charming little shop.”

Good
Lord, his hand's on my back! Help! I want him to abduct me and take
my innocence in a storm! We shall live in the West Indies, making
love in the sun, day and night--- well, in the moonlight at night, I
think. There's no sun at night, is there?

“
Yes.
Indeed,” the duke cleared his throat. “I'm to express my sister's
gratitude. She particularly enjoyed the book your mother
recommended.”

The
Birds of Cheltenham Gardens? Is his sister an imbecile?

“
How
very kind of her,” Gigi smiled mildly. Quite an effort! “Send her
my regards.”

For
a few twirls they said nothing.

“
Is
London to your liking, Miss Cartwright?”

Oh
devastating Dominic, the way you smell is to my liking!

“
Yes,
Your Grace. It's very different from home.”

“
Yorkshire
is a pleasant county.”

How
does he know I'm from Yorkshire?

“
Yes,
it is, Your Grace.”

“
I've
only recently been there.”

Really?
Yes, I remember, the horse had been on its way to Longmore.

 “
How
interesting. Have you gone to Yorkshire for hunting, Sir?”

The
devastating Dominic looked down at her. One corner of his mouth went
up a little as if he was about to smirk. “Yes.”

“
There
are formidable hunting grounds in Yorkshire,” Gigi stated, still
envisioning her mother with the vicar.