Eloisa James - Desperate Duchesses - 6 (11 page)

Naturally, given Lisette's revulsion, the children were eyeing Oyster as if he had three heads.

"He's grotesque," Lisette said breathily.

"Our hostess is afraid of dogs," Villiers pointed out, rather unnecessarily to Eleanor's mind.

"Perhaps you might keep the animal in your bedchamber during your visit."

Eleanor blinked down at Oyster. He certainly wasn't beautiful. But he was no bulldog either.

"Lisette," she said incredulously, coming a step nearer. "Are you really saying that you're afraid of a dog who weighs less than a stone? He still has his milk teeth, for God's sake!"

"I am," Lisette said, a gasp breaking her voice. "I know I'm an idiot. I'm so stupid. I know it. Just please—please—will you take him away? Please?"

"Of course," Eleanor said, stepping backwards again. Oyster snorted and reached up to lick her chin.

She turned around and marched back to the house, feeling her ears burning red with rage.

It wasn't just the way Lisette had shuddered. Or even the way her eyes had started to bulge so that she actually resembled Oyster. It was the way that Villiers had looked down at her, as if he were protecting her from a man-eating crocodile.

Ridiculous. They were both utterly ridiculous.

Anne was comfortably seated on a small settee, powdering her nose. "Let me guess," she said as Eleanor came up the steps to the terrace, clutching Oyster. "Lisette turned into the trembling maiden, but luckily a big, strong duke was there to rescue her? Wait—haven't we heard this story before?"

Eleanor plumped down beside her and turned Oyster free to scrabble about. "Are you implying that Lisette is akin to Ada?" she demanded, still furious. "Because I can assure you that Ada would never behave in such an unreasonable manner."

"What on earth are all those children doing out there?" Anne asked. "Do you suppose one of them is the child to whom Mother referred so darkly? Perhaps Lisette didn't stop with one." She giggled madly. "Perhaps she is a female match to Villiers!"

"Don't be foolish. They're wearing pinafores. I assume they're from the orphanage,"

Eleanor said, shrugging. "I know that Lisette—" She sat upright. "The orphanage!" Anne raised an eyebrow. "Two of those children may be Villiers's."

"What a naughty boy," Anne said, without showing the faintest bit of shock. "For having two?"

"I already heard that he had some illicit offspring. No, rather, for stowing them in an orphanage.

That's not acceptable."

"He lost them," Eleanor said, finding it very queer to defend the duke, even as she did so. "He had a crooked solicitor, and the man ran off with his funds. It turned out he'd been defrauding the children of their support."

"So the duke's offspring were plunked in an orphanage. It sounds like a bad play."

Eleanor narrowed her eyes. Across the lawn, Villiers had placed Lisette back on her feet, but she was still clinging to him. "Maybe he has decided to marry her so he can defend her from wild animal attacks."

"She could do much worse. After all, she's already met his children."

"Not all of them," Eleanor said. "Apparently he has six."

"Trust Villiers to double the common allotment of iniquity," Anne said placidly. "The poor man must be desperate to prove his virility. I wonder why?" "I think it was just carelessness," Eleanor said.

"Oh, look. Popper has lined up all the orphans and is marching them off somewhere. If I'd known Lisette had turned her estate into an orphanage, I wouldn't have come, even for you, darling. I am not fond of children."

"I think they live in the village, not on the grounds."

"Do you see how she is leaning on Villiers as she gracefully limps back to the house?" Anne inquired. "We could all take lessons there, I think." She gave Eleanor a meaningful look.

"Perhaps she hurt her toe running away from nasty Oyster."

"That would explain why I can tell from here that the supposedly chilly Duke of Villiers is tying his heart in knots over the defenseless girl he just rescued from certain death."

"Is he really?" Eleanor refused to look. "Too bad. He seemed halfway sensible. If you think that I might transform into a trembling maiden to catch a husband, Anne, you're wrong."

"For one thing, you'd have trouble with the maiden part," her sister said, chortling.

Eleanor threw her a quick frown as Villiers and Lisette neared the terrace. She looked around for Oyster, and realized to her relief that he'd collapsed into his favorite position and was engaged in his favorite activity: sleeping. Thankfully, well-hidden under the sofa.

Lisette perched on the arm of the sofa and bent to give Eleanor a little kiss. Her slipper was a hairbreadth away from Oyster's chubby paw.

"That was such a turmoil that I never got to say how wonderfully happy I am that the two of you are paying me a visit," she exclaimed, as if the whole event had never happened. Eleanor suddenly remembered how hard it was to stay angry at Lisette. Since

she forgot her own emotions so quickly, it felt churlish to say a cross word to her. And that, of course, was how she got away with such outrageous behavior.

"I should have visited you before this," Eleanor said, feeling a mild pang of guilt. "I can't believe so many years have passed."

"Popper tells me that we must all prepare for dinner. But I just wanted to say..." Her voice trailed off and she twisted her hands together.

"It's all right," Eleanor said. "I know some people loathe dogs. If I'd known, I wouldn't have brought him with me, Lisette."

"It's just that I was attacked by a dog once," she said in a rush. "I was just telling Leopold all about it."

Leopold?
She was already calling the duke by his first name?

"I was younger than I am now, and even less brave," she said with a charming catch to her voice. "I was knocked over, you see, and—" She thrust out her arm.

Eleanor saw to her horror that the skin was puckered by fang-shaped scars. "Oh, Lisette, that's awful!"

"I think the fear is worse than the actual bite," Lisette said, sounding almost practical.

Anne murmured something that sounded like encouragement.

"Because fear doesn't go away, and bites do," Lisette added.

At that moment Oyster made a woofing sound in his sleep and moved his bristly little paw closer to Lisette's slipper. Eleanor hastily coughed.

"I must take a bath," Lisette said, rising with all her usual grace. "It was such an exciting afternoon

—oh, not because of your dog, Eleanor. We were discussing the play ^

the children were to put on, and then I had the sudden realization that what we really ought to do is a treasure hunt, rather than a play. It's so much more interesting for the children, and they're the ones who matter, after all. I simply insisted that the whole household hear my new idea, though Popper did protest. After all, you had your maids if you needed something." She gave a charming shrug.

"Of course," Eleanor said, not getting up. If she rose, Oyster would realize his nap was over and likely offer up his squeal

"I do believe I'll just sit here and enjoy the last bit of sunlight," Anne said. "Eleanor, stay with me."

Lisette danced off with a wave of her hand.

"Villiers," Eleanor said, "what did you think of the children?"

He frowned. "Children?"

"Small creatures, wearing blue pinafores," Anne prompted helpfully. "I didn't stir from the portico because of them. At least Oyster has the good manners to occasionally silence himself. Children never do."

"Children," Villiers repeated. "You mean the village children?"

"The
orphan
children," Eleanor prompted.

His eyes narrowed. "Those were
orphans?"

"I gather your attention was elsewhere," she said sweetly. "I can certainly understand that. Poor Lisette was so afraid of the big bad wolf named Oyster."

"Now, now," Anne said. "I don't see you with a disfiguring scar on your arm, Eleanor, so don't mock it until you have it. Have you never been afraid of anything?"

Eleanor didn't need to think hard about that. She was afraid of important things, like people being ripped away from her without warning. Never of spiders or puppy dogs or thunderstorms. "Of course I'm not mocking Lisette. I was merely sympathizing with the duke. Lisette's alarm engaged him so deeply that he didn't notice he was surrounded by orphans, two of whom might well have been his own children."

Villiers was likely trying to frighten her with that scowl. She smiled right back at him.

"How do you know they were orphans?" he demanded.

"What else did you think they were?"

Anne interjected. "I suggested that Lisette had started a family, but that was too scandalous even for Eleanor to consider. I don't know if you realize this about my sister, Villiers, but she's very hard to shock."

"I have learned that already," Villiers said. He had a white line around his mouth that almost made Eleanor feel sorry for him. But not quite.

"Do you have any idea of the age of the children you're looking for?" she asked, needling him and enjoying it.

"Of course I do. If you'll excuse me..." And he left without another word. And without a parting bow either.

"Dear me, Eleanor. I don't think you've made your future spouse very happy," Anne said meditatively. "Remember how I suggested you might try to be a wee bit more conciliatory toward the male sex?"

"He may be my future spouse, and he may not," Eleanor said. "My chest is quite chilly at the moment, I might add. You'll have to be satisfied with my sartorial transformation and leave my personality alone."

"I'd like you to marry him. He's terribly rich. And I do like those shoulders."

"That's not a good enough reason to marry someone."

"Well, what would you say is a better reason? Not, I hope, the sort of frantic passion you and dear Gideon shared. Besides, you know perfectly well that his choirboy looks played a part in that."

"One doesn't marry a man for his shoulders," Eleanor said. "Brains ought to rank high on the list, and anyone who looks at Lisette with such a look in his eye is stupider than Oyster. I have standards."

Oyster grunted at the sound of his name and inched out from under the chair so he could put his chin on Eleanor's slipper.

"Don't underestimate Villiers," Anne said.

"More importantly, I shan't underestimate Lisette!" Eleanor retorted. "She's perfected her trembling maiden act since I saw her last."

"It's not an act," Anne said. "That's why it's so successful. Goodness me, Eleanor, you sound as if you care."

"I'm not sure whether Lisette should marry him either. After all, he does have a thoroughly disreputable number of children."

"Not just children—bastards," Anne said with her usual bluntness. "Wait until Mother hears that little detail. Lisette may have a brain as empty as a washhouse on Sundays, but I agree with you. She doesn't deserve the kind of scandal broth that will follow those children. She has her own to cope with."

"You know Lisette. She changes her mind every five minutes. She may be smiling at him now, but wait until tomorrow."

"What an interesting visit this shall be," Anne said, coming to her feet. "Wake up that dog, Eleanor.

Did you know there's a puddle under our settee?"

Eleanor shrugged. "I should have taken him for a walk on the lawn, but I was so rattled by all the screaming that I forgot."

"Bastard children or not," Anne announced, "Villiers really does have beautiful shoulders. I married Jeremy in large part because he has such a beautiful nose."

"Nose?" Eleanor had never noticed her brother's-in-law nose one way or the other.

"Beautiful other things too," her sister said impudently.

Eleanor sighed.

Villiers walked up the stairs to his chambers, exasperation pulsing through his body. He couldn't believe that he was considering marriage to Eleanor. She had actually laughed at him for not realizing that those children were orphans. Laughed at him about something as sensitive as his children.

A moment after she taunted him, he had realized that none of the orphans could possibly be his. The twins were only five years old, and every child he'd seen was at least seven. But did he really know the difference between the sizes of five-year-olds and seven-year-olds?

Something in his gut twisted. It was absurd, humiliating and absurd. He hadn't given a damn about the existence of his children for the whole of his thirty-five years. And now, all of a sudden, he was consumed by them?

It made him feel as if he should just cut off his own head and be done with it.

Tobias was curled in a chair in his chambers. "The nursery is useless," the boy said, staring at him unblinkingly. "There's an old nanny up there who used to care for Lady Lisette. She tried to feed me gruel, so I left."

"Did you tell her where you were going?"

"No," Tobias said with a patent lack of interest.

Really, Villiers thought, wasn't that precisely what he himself would do? He never informed servants or anyone else about where he was going or why.

Though he'd always taken that as the prerogative of being a duke. Tobias was no duke.

"What are you reading?"

"It's a book about this Cosmo Gordon, see? He killed someone." "In a duel. I know. He killed Frederick Thomas in Hyde Park last year. How did you learn to read?"

"Mrs. Jobber taught us. I can write too."

"I meant to get you a tutor but I forgot," Villiers said, frustration licking at him again. So far fatherhood felt like an exercise in failure. "Where's my valet?"

"Popper is so cross about Lady Eleanor's dog that Finchley went off to try to calm him down."

"Ridiculous. That animal is so small that it can hardly be called a dog. It's more like a stuffed cat."

"I wish I'd seen it frighten Lady Lisette," Tobias said wistfully. "Look at this." He held up a small bronze horse with a tail that whisked in the air.

Villiers hauled on the bell cord, wishing that Finchley would drop the errands of mercy and stay where he was supposed to be. "Where'd you get it?"