At the Duke’s Pleasure (13 page)

“F
ive balls in six days. I think I may collapse,” Claire said, as she joined Mallory on the side of the ballroom two weeks later. Finding a pair of empty chairs, they sank into them, Claire’s feet tingling with relief from having danced the last three sets. As she watched, Mallory opened her painted silk and ivory fan and waved it in front of her face, her cheeks rosy from her own dancing.

“Oh, this is nothing,” Mallory remarked. “There have been times when I’ve gone to five different balls in one evening. Though only on rare occasions when several important hostesses all decided to hold their entertainments on the same night. Most inconvenient of them, I’ve always thought.”

Claire felt her eyes widen, relieved they hadn’t encountered a similar situation so far, although it was still very early yet in the Season. Even so, there was never a paucity of invitations, as she had learned that first afternoon when she, Cousin Wilhelmina and Mallory culled through their first batch of cards. A constant flood of new invitations had been arriving ever since, each group requiring careful attention and consideration, lest they slight someone who dare not be slighted.

As for her own initial foray into Society, it had proven alternately enlightening, daunting and exciting, requiring every ounce of her composure during those times when she found all eyes upon her.

She’d known being Edward’s fiancée came with a certain amount of notoriety. Even so, she hadn’t expected the intense level of scrutiny she faced, especially when she met someone for the first time. Almost uniformly, they stared for a split second longer than normal and smiled just a touch too brightly, silently taking her measure while they strove to impress her with their own. Not that there weren’t any number of genuinely warm, pleasant people—there were; it was simply a matter of being able to distinguish one from the other and acquiring the knowledge to do so.

Mallory proved invaluable on that score, since she knew nearly everyone. And Edward as well, when he went to the trouble of commenting. Mostly he seemed to think she knew how to handle herself, letting her deal with various situations on her own.

Not that he wasn’t always readily at hand, since he escorted her to all the evening entertainments. But often after a single dance, he would excuse himself, reappearing at her side only when it was time to return home. She understood that such behavior was the accepted standard for most Society couples.

Nevertheless, it rankled.

It also served to remind her of her ultimate objective, even if she’d done nothing recently to encourage the plan. She’d been busy trying to find her balance among the Ton and hadn’t been able to take further steps toward securing her freedom.

But plenty of time still remained, she assured herself. If only there wouldn’t be such a very great scandal when he ended their engagement. She shivered at the idea, realizing more than ever the enormity of such an event.

But it was what she wanted.

Wasn’t it?

Or at least what she knew she must do in order to retain some measure of self-respect when all this was done. Despite her deepening acquaintance with Edward, it was plain he was no more in love with her than ever. If he were, everything would be different. If he loved her, this would be the happiest time of her life. But as she’d learned many years ago, wishing for a thing didn’t make it so. And pinning false hopes on faerie stories only led to disillusionment and regret.

She had only to consider her own parents to know that much. For as long as she could remember, she’d watched her mother do everything in her power to win a greater share of her father’s affection. He cared for his wife in his way, but there was an intensity of feeling she craved that he seemed incapable of returning. The simple truth was she loved him and he didn’t love her back. And even though Mama hid it well and never said a word, Claire knew the toll such knowledge had taken on her mother. And took still, day by day.

I refuse to let that be me. I deserve better. And so does Edward. Everyone
, she thought,
has a right to be loved.

Suppressing a sigh, she forced a smile and returned her attention to her friend.

“I’ll be glad when midnight supper is served,” Mallory said in a quiet confession. “I’m famished in spite of the dinner we ate before we left home. All that dancing, I assume.”

“Very likely,” Claire agreed. “Have you already promised the supper dance to someone?”

Mallory shook her head. “Not yet, no. It’s silly of me, I realize, but I always think of Michael during that particular set, since he was so very clever about making sure he got to claim that dance from me. Now I find myself reluctant to pledge it, as though he might somehow walk through the door, in spite of the fact that I know he’s hundreds of miles away in Spain. Still…”

Reaching out, Claire patted her hand. “It sounds only natural to me. You miss him, that’s all. Just know that he’ll be home soon. Didn’t he just write to say that he’s planning to take leave in a few more weeks?”

Mallory’s aquamarine gaze brightened at the reminder. “Yes. And stay two months entire once he arrives. I am quite beside myself with anticipation.”

“So should you be. Until then, you will have to allow some other gentlemen to share supper with you and not feel guilty about doing so. I am sure Major Hargreaves wouldn’t begrudge you the meal or the company.”

Mallory met her gaze, then smiled. “You’re right. As I said at the outset, I am only being silly. Now whom should I pick?” Her spirits much revived, Mallory began scanning the ballroom for a likely prospect.

Smiling back, Claire followed her lead. “What about Lord Longsworth? He seems a pleasant enough fellow.”

“Oh, he is, and an excellent dancer as well. It is only that he’s rather enthusiastic about the outdoors, and for some reason, whenever we are in each other’s company, he invariably starts telling me the details of his latest hunting expedition. His stories would quite put me off my food, if you know what I mean.”

“I can see that they would. Hmm, so who else?”

Perusing the room together, they considered and discarded another half-dozen prospects. “What about that gentleman?” Claire said, studying an elegantly built man with tawny hair and deep-set grey eyes. “He seems rather interesting.”

Mallory turned her head to study the man in question, her brows sliding downward. “That is Lord Islington and although he may indeed be as interesting as you say, he is also one of London’s most disreputable rakehells. He’s not the sort with whom young ladies generally associate.”

“Why not? What has he done?”

“I don’t know the details, but he has a most unsavory reputation.”

“If it is so dreadful, then what is he doing here tonight?”

“He has position and money and no one dares cut him. But neither do mamas put their young daughters in his path for fear he might take advantage without doing the honorable thing. Edward warned me against him most strenuously during my first Season and I have heard nothing since to dissuade me from taking his advice. Stay away from that one, Claire. He is a very bad man.”

“Did I hear mention made of a bad man?” asked a male voice in tones that were as rich and smooth as a dram of aged dark rum. “Then I assume you ladies must be talking about me.”

Claire glanced up, then up some more, pausing at the sight of an extremely handsome, extremely tall gentleman with the warmest brown eyes she’d ever seen. They twinkled, those eyes, his gaze fixed on Mallory with a friendly regard that spoke of long familiarity.

Her supposition proved correct as Mallory laughed and wagged a finger at the man. “Adam! Where did you come from?” she declared, leaping to her feet.

Claire stood as well.

“Purgatory, of course,” he replied with a naughty grin. “Where else would a devil like me take refuge when he’s not in Town?” Catching hold of Mallory’s hand, he bowed low.

Ignoring the usual bounds of decorum, Mallory threw her arms around him for a quick but exuberant hug that Adam—whoever he might be—didn’t seem to mind in the least.

Off to one side, a pair of matrons clicked their tongues, then turned away. Adam and Mallory didn’t appear to take any notice of their disapproval, or else they simply didn’t care.

“Did you just come up from Gresham Park?” Mallory asked. “You ought to have sent word ahead so we could have known to expect you.”

“My plans weren’t fixed and I wasn’t sure when I might arrive. Besides, this way, I was able to surprise you. And we both know how you like surprises.”

“Very true, but still you might have at least given a hint, my lord.” Mallory sent him a mock glare before her expression softened again into a pleased smile. “It’s so good to see you.”

“Yes. It has been far too long.”

“Christmas, if I remember correctly,” Mallory said, “when we were all gathered at Braebourne. What a happy time that was.”

“Yes, very happy indeed.” He inclined his head, but not in time to completely conceal the slight shadow that flickered over his gaze. When he straightened again, however, the expression was gone, leaving Claire to wonder if it had merely been some trick of the candlelight. Apparently so, since he looked in the best of spirits.

“But we have kept to ourselves far too long,” he said. “Pray introduce me to your friend, since I have not yet had the pleasure of making her acquaintance.”

“Of course. Forgive me. I am always so lax about the formalities.” Sliding her arm through Adam’s, she turned so they were both facing Claire. “Adam, allow me to make you known to Lady Claire Marsden. Claire, this devilish gentleman, as he falsely claims to be, is Lord Gresham, a very old and dear friend of the family.”

“A pleasure, Lady Claire,” he said, executing another elegant bow, his teeth white against his swarthy complexion.

Claire curtseyed, spreading the skirts of her ivory silk evening gown out to the sides. “The pleasure is mine as well, my lord.”

“And there is nothing the least bit false in my claims,” he continued in a casual tone. “I know what I am and take no pains to conceal it. Although I must take umbrage at your description of me as a very ‘old’ friend, Lady Mallory. There is nothing old about a gentleman, who is scarcely a year into his third decade. Ask any of your older brothers and they will tell you the same. We are in the prime of our lives.”

“Indisputably,” Mallory said. “Though should you find yourself in need of an ear trumpet, shout very loudly and I shall procure one for you,” she added in a teasing voice.

Gresham gave a laugh, his dark eyes twinkling again. “Minx. That kind of sass should not be tolerated. I see I shall have to take you in hand.”

Mallory grinned, her sea-colored gaze alight with clear inspiration. “In that case, you must ask me to dance. I have been trying to decide on someone to partner me for the supper dance and you are the perfect choice.”

“I find it hard to believe you have trouble locating partners, but I would be most happy to oblige. Lady Mallory, may I have the supper dance with you this evening?”

“Of course, my lord. I would be absolutely delighted.” Mallory shared a contented look with him.

Before she had time to say more, another gentleman arrived, his fair cheeks sporting ruddy flags of color, as he stopped to bow to them all.

“How d’ye do.” Pausing, he cleared his throat as though his cravat was a fraction too tight. “Th-The next set is about to form, Lady Mallory. I believe we are engaged for this dance.”

Claire watched as Mallory gave the young man a gracious smile that had the immediate effect of easing his nervousness. “And so we are, Mr. Molleson. I was but waiting for your arrival.”

With a grin that displayed a great many crooked teeth, he offered his arm to Mallory, which she accepted with aplomb. “If you will excuse me, Lady Claire, Lord Gresham.”

Claire and Gresham traded smiles with Mallory, watching together for a moment as she made her way toward the dance floor.

Gresham turned, his gaze full of affable warmth. “Lady Claire, would you care to take a turn as well? Unless you are already promised.”

“I have no such commitment, so yes, that would be lovely.”

Laying her hand on his sleeve, he led her toward the others assembling for the set.

“So how long have you and Lady Mallory been acquainted?” she ventured.

“Literally ages, just as she said. I roomed with her brother Jack my first term at university, and he and I have been friends ever since. He invited me to Braebourne that first summer and that’s where I met Mallory. She was just a child then, nine or ten, I believe, and spent her time trailing after us.” He chuckled at the memory. “She made quite a nuisance of herself, as I recall. Ended up with a pair of skinned knees and a stained frock after she tumbled down a grassy hillock and landed nearly at our feet. She’d been spying on us, you see, and lost her balance.”

His gaze strayed to where Mallory stood, his eyes softening. “You wouldn’t know to look at her now, but she was quite the tomboy in her youth. I suppose it’s what comes of having six brothers, most of whom are older.”

“She sounds like my little sister Nan, although Nan hasn’t the excuse of brothers. She broke her leg this spring climbing a tree.”

His gaze returned to Claire. “Did she indeed? I hope she is recovering well.”

“Most admirably. If one doesn’t count boredom and grumpiness. Do you have siblings, my lord?” Claire inquired as they took their places for the set.

“No, none,” he said, his expression sobering. “I had a sister but she died quite young.”

“I am sorry.”

He waved aside her regret. “No need. Many years have passed since then.” He paused before redirecting the conversation. “Forgive me for not conveying my good wishes to you sooner, but I understand that you and Edward are to be wed.”

She nodded. “That’s right, though we have yet to make the announcement official. No date has been set or plans arranged for the…for the wedding.”

He raised a brow. “Many couples have long engagements. There is nothing unusual in that. Although, if you will forgive me once more, I hear that yours is of an especially long duration. You were promised to each other as children, I believe?”