Dusk With a Dangerous Duke (7 page)

Hunter was still waiting.

He had discovered during the past few hours that he was slightly offended that Lady Netherley had not sought him out immediately when Lady Grace had presented herself at her door. It was simple enough to conclude that the marchioness had a few things to say about his dastardly neglect of the lady.

At this moment, was Lady Netherley introducing Hunter’s betrothed to potential suitors in the hope of finding her a proper husband?

The casual thought made him itch to punch something.

Hunter supposed he would be forced to endure a stern lecture from Lady Netherley before she allowed him to see Lady Grace. She would have reminded him that this mess was of his own making. If he had courted Lady Grace as she had deserved, the lady would have been a part of their lives long ago. They most likely would have already married, and his promise to his grandmother would have been kept.

And the best part of all would have been his cousin’s disappointment. His chance to steal Hunter’s inheritance would have expired once he had married and bedded his duchess.

If it had been anyone else besides Vane’s sweet, generous mother, he would have demanded Lady Grace’s whereabouts and secured his betrothed within the hour. Once he applied for a special license, he would put an end to her nonsense of marrying another gent.

Instead of collecting his bride, Hunter was sitting in Lord Clement’s study with Reign, Dare, and Sin only halfheartedly paying attention to the cards in front of him. His thoughts had drifted to several streets over, where according to Sin, Lady Netherley was likely to make an appearance since she was a good friend of Lady Lovelace.

“Don’t think about it,” Sin advised, not glancing up from the cards in his hand.

“I have no idea what you are talking about,” Hunter replied, feigning innocence.

Dare seemed to have the advantage this evening since he was winning. His turn did not distract him from the conversation. “I believe Sin is referring to your desire to ignore everyone’s advice and attend Lord and Lady Lovelace’s ball.”

He scowled at the worthless hand he had been dealt. Blast it, at this rate Dare was going to beggar them all.

“I would not recommend it,” Reign said, giving him a knowing glance. “Charging into the ballroom and berating Vane’s mother for some imagined slight will serve no purpose.”

“It will make me feel better,” Hunter said defiantly. “And the slight isn’t imagined. Lady Netherley should have had the decency to let me know my bride was in town.”

“Clearly the lady had her own reasons not to tell you,” Dare mused. “Humiliating her in front of the
ton
will not coax her to support your side.”

“Not to mention, Vane will cut out your tongue for upsetting his mother,” Sin pointed out.

“I haven’t upset anyone. Yet.” Disgusted with his cards and the conversation, Hunter folded and slapped his cards facedown on the table. “No coaxing will be required when I get my hands on Lady Grace. She will obey me.”

Sin, Dare, and Reign chuckled.

Dare shook his head at Hunter’s lack of understanding. “My friend, I would refrain from using such words as
obey
until you have married the girl.”

Reign nodded. “Women are contrary creatures. They tend to do the opposite when provoked.”

Hunter raised his hands in mock surrender. “I am a reasonable gentleman. As long as the chit behaves, we will get along.”

Sin pointed a finger at him. “You have never been reasonable when it comes to this young lady. You can barely stomach speaking her name out loud.”

“Don’t be ridiculous,” Hunter scoffed, ignoring the fact that what the marquess said was essentially the truth. “Lady Grace. There. See. Are you satisfied?”

“Aye. But you’ll never be if you keep behaving like an arse,” Sin said, and all three men had a good laugh over what they perceived as Hunter’s lack of understanding of women.

Well, he had had enough.

Hunter stood up. “I’m heading over there. There’s no harm in paying my respects to the Lovelaces. Lady Netherley won’t even know I’m there.”

Well, unless Lady Grace was also in attendance. If the lady was at the marchioness’s side, then no one could stop him from approaching her.

Sin abandoned his cards. “I’m joining you.”

“Me, too,” said Reign, willing to accept his losses.

“Fine lot of friends, you are. I’m winning,” Dare complained.

Hunter glared at his friend. “Are you coming or not?”

“Aye, I’m coming,” grumbled Dare. “My wife is attending the ball so I might as well join her. What’s more, I doubt you will be able to just observe your lady. You’re going to need us to distract Lady Netherley if you are planning to steal her from under her chaperone’s nose.”

Chapter Six

There were so many names to remember.

No one would have ever accused Grace of being shy, but after of hours of introductions, even she was feeling overwhelmed.

“Considering how many gentlemen have begged me for an introduction, you’ll need to order several new pairs of evening slippers,” Lady Netherley said after one of the gentlemen escorted her back to her circle of new friends. She could not recall his name, but he had only stepped on her toes once during the energetic country dance.

“It will be worth it,” Grace said, silently wishing they could find a place to sit.

“Slightly overwhelming, is it not?” said the petite brunette who was poised to her right. “Don’t fret. In a month, you will have committed everyone’s names to heart.”

The tall blonde beside her with the blue-green eyes laughed. “And likely know all their secrets.”

Grace nodded, struggling to match names within their small group. The brunette was Lady Pashley. The elderly marchioness explained that the lady was married to one of the duke’s friends. The blonde with the elegant walking stick was also connected to the Lords of Vice. Lady Netherley explained that the woman had suffered a grievous injury as a child, which damaged her eyesight. Though her gaze did seem a little unfocused on occasion, Grace would have never guessed the young countess was struggling with partial blindness.

“I feel foolish,” she confided to the blonde. “What was your name again?”

Understanding and something akin to sympathy flickered in her gaze. “It is unnecessary to apologize. I am Lady Rainecourt, though you may call me Sophia since we will soon be family.”

Lady Pashley brought her hand to her heart. “And I am Regan.”

Grace blushed at the word
family.
Although both ladies had deliberately refrained from mentioning the Duke of Huntsley’s name, marriage to him was the only way she could be connected to these women.

“How are you related to the duke?” she asked.

“Am I related to Hunter?” Regan wrinkled her nose in amusement. “No. My brother is the Earl of Chillingsworth. When Lady Netherley speaks of Frost, she is referring to my brother.”

“Juliana and Isabel, whom you met earlier, Regan, and myself are married to gentlemen who have been friends most of their lives. The
ton
calls them the Lords of Vice—”

“I beg your pardon,” Grace interrupted, wondering if she had misunderstood her companion. “You and Sophia are married to gentlemen who call themselves the Lords of Vice?”

Sophia responded before Regan could explain. “Several very vexed members of the
ton
began to call them that awful name when they were more boys than men.”

“Hunter is one of the seven,” Regan said as she held up her hand to count off the names of the remaining men. “Then there is my husband, Dare; my brother; Sophia’s Reign; Juliana’s husband, Sin; Lady Netherley’s son, Vane; and Saint. He’s married to Catherine, though I doubt the couple will be attending the Lovelaces’ ball this evening.”

“Astounding,” Grace marveled. She had learned more about the Duke of Huntsley and his friends in one evening than she had gleaned from Mr. Porter during the last nineteen years. “And your husbands and the others do not mind being called the Lords of Vice?”

“When you get to know them, you will see the sobriquet is wholly appropriate,” Regan added.

Sophia tilted her head to concur. “True. Over the years, the men have become more than friends, and now that many of them have gone on to marry and beget children, we have all become family.”

“You will feel the same, once you marry Hunter,” Regan said blithely.

Grace bit her lower lip. She had asked Lady Netherley not to share her plans before she had confronted the duke. If Hunter had refrained from sharing his personal business with his friends, then the ladies were unaware that the duke was not interested in her or marriage.

“Am I interrupting something?”

Grace glanced at the handsome dark-haired gentleman who approached them with an air of familiarity. One of the ladies’ husbands, perhaps?

“If I said
yes,
would you leave us?” Regan teased.

The gentleman tapped her lightly on her nose. “On the contrary, I would have regretted not joining you sooner.”

“I am amazed you stayed away this long,” Sophia said with a hint of a smile playing across her mouth.

No, he was not married to either woman. There was a casual intimacy among them, but he behaved as if he were talking to annoying female relatives. Was this Regan’s brother? The one she called Frost?

If so, it also meant that he was another one of the duke’s good friends. And she had hoped to gain the advantage over Hunter by learning more about him, but how could she best him when she was outnumbered and surrounded by his closest friends?

Her predicament did not bode well for her.

The gentleman continued, unaware of her increasing discomfort. “When I arrived, Juliana was the first to warn me off. Lady Netherley was the second. It was then that I knew I just had to meet your beautiful companion.”

Suddenly Grace had become the center of attention.

The gentleman stared at her boldly, almost as thoroughly as if he had touched her. She felt the impact of his unique turquoise-blue gaze like a warm wave sweeping from her face and spreading out over her chest. The corners of his mouth quirked as if he had guessed her reaction to his interest.

“Perhaps you should have listened to Juliana and the marchioness,” Regan said, sounding exasperated.

“When have I ever listened to anyone?” the gentleman countered. “Will you perform the introduction or shall I deepen that pretty blush on the lady’s cheeks by impressing her with my daring?”

Regan rolled her eyes as she lightly touched Grace on the arm. “Forgive my brother, Lady Grace. We have tried to civilize him, but his head is as dense as granite.”

“As is my heart, though I endeavor to find a lady who might persuade me to make an exception,” he said, the blue in his gaze darkening as he admired her from head to toe. “You may call me Frost.”

“Oh, dear,” Sophia softly muttered to no one in particular.

Regan noticed Grace’s wary expression, and added to ease her concern about her brazen sibling, “Lady Grace Kearly, may I present my older brother, the Earl of Chillingsworth. Forgive his boldness. He believes he is being charming.”

“I
am
charming,” Frost said smoothly. “Do you not agree, Lady Grace?”

It was probably a bad notion to encourage the earl, but she could not prevent herself from smiling at his arrogance. She inclined her head as she curtsied. “Has anyone dared to disagree with you, Lord Chillingsworth?”

Frost drew attention with his sudden bark of laughter. “Very few are that courageous, my lady. But I occasionally enjoy the novelty of it.” He bowed gallantly. “So whom do you belong to, Lady Grace?”

Regan and Sophia seemed displeased by the question.

Grace was also distrustful of the gentleman’s intentions. “I belong to myself, Lord Chillingsworth.” Since that sounded odd, even to her ears, she explained, “I was orphaned when I was very young.”

Grace required no sympathy from anyone. She had been so young when her mother and father had died that she did not remember them. All she had to cling to were the stories her grandfather and Rosemary told her, and old paintings in the gallery at Frethwell Hall.

The earl nodded, deducing that any sympathy would not have been welcome. “Ah, yes … and if I recall correctly, you are the Duke of Strangham’s daughter.”

Surprise lit up her eyes. “My uncle inherited the title, but your assumptions are correct. How did you know? You must have been a child when my father and mother died.”

Then it occurred to her. The Duke of Huntsley had shared certain details of her life with his friends.

Instead of mentioning his connection to Hunter, he explained, “Oh, I was a boy. However, you come from an old and revered family, Lady Grace. The loss of your parents touched many hearts in the
ton,
and such losses are often discussed and lamented by our elders.”

It was a reasonable explanation, and it touched her heart that the
ton
had not forgotten her parents as she had. Unfortunately for the earl, she did not believe that was the true source of his knowledge about her personal tragedy.

“I did not expect to encounter you so late at the Lovelaces’,” Regan said, her eyes narrowing with suspicion. “You usually get bored at these affairs.”

“I do,” her brother said in agreeable tones. To Grace, he confessed, “Greedy hostesses are reluctant to allow wealthy bachelors to slip through their fingers.”

Regan appeared to surrender. “Not exactly subtle, dear brother. I can think of a certain gentleman who will not appreciate your mischief.”

Was his sister referring to Hunter? Grace’s lips parted as she prepared to assure her companions that the Duke of Huntsley had not concerned himself with the personal details of her life.

However, she held her tongue as Sophia’s laughter drew everyone’s attention to her. “If you wish to leave, I suspect Lady Lovelace would make an exception for you, Frost,” she teased.

“You are probably right, lovely Sophia,” the earl said, attempting to appear contrite. “Which, of course, is just one more reason to remain. Do you not agree, Lady Grace?”