Lady Adventuress 01 - His Wayward Duchess (13 page)

“Is that so?
Well, no matter. Have Mrs Tomkins come up to my study, right away.”

With that, the duke swept
out, leaving the bewildered woman staring after him. What a fool he must seem, unable to keep track of his own wife. But what had happened to make Holly bolt? Had she bolted? Had she thought better of the whole thing?

He hoped that his housekeeper would be better able to shed some light on the matter. When the illustrious Mrs Tomkins did appear, it was with great dignity. Strathavon found himself looking at her twice to make sure that she was not Queen Charlotte in disguise.

“Your Grace,” the housekeeper greeted, with an icy wariness to which she had never subjected him before.

“Hello
, Tomkins. You are looking well, if I may say so. The house also. But I seem to have misplaced my wife. You wouldn’t know where she has gone, would you?”

The duke could not quite believe it when the woman had
the audacity to sniff and stare down her nose at him, seeming to swell with outrage.

“Her Grace has removed to town, leaving the house in my care now that it
has been set to rights.” Her tone seemed to challenge him to press the matter.

Tomkins had been at the house for a great many years and she had never been anything short of loyal. Strathavon wondered what Holly could have done to instigate
such a complete mutiny in a matter of months. Surely, ordering a set of new curtains could not have done all this.

“I see. And you w
ouldn’t happen to know what caused this hasty removal?”

She did, evidently
. She seemed to swell even more, to the point where he had to wonder if her sheer outrage would cause her to lose contact with the floor.

“I sense
that there is something you wish to say to me, Tomkins,” he remarked dryly.

“Indeed there is, Your Grace. Only good manners forbid me from telling you what I really think of the way you left that poor girl her
e all by herself. Why, just the sight of her trying not to look miserable as she bravely waded through all the dust! With not a soul for company. It was nothing short of thoughtless. It is only right that she should have gone to town with her friend.”

He was reminded of the many times this same woman had caught him out in the middle of some mischief as a boy, and just barely supressed the urge to hide his ears f
rom being boxed.

Then, h
is ears pricked up. Friend? What friend? Had his wife run off with some young country squire? The very idea caused a spark of anger to course through his veins. “You have always been very good at not saying what you think, Tomkins, and this time is no exception. And what friend might it be, who was so good as to accompany Lady Strathavon?”

“It was t
hat fine lady staying over at Woodley Court. Lady Louisa Somerville, her name is. Very impeccably dressed and mannered.”

Strathavon didn’t know what to make o
f that. Where would his wife have found Lady Louisa Somerville? And what did the old dame want with Holly?

Further questioning revealed only that Holly
had repaired the house, and left in a swirling wake of
pour prendage conge
visiting cards. Which meant that Her Grace meant to be away from the country for some length of time. But what was she about?

He was also left with a very clear sense that his housekeeper was of the opinion that he had
been a deplorable beast to his lady and that he would be very fortunate not to find live eels in his soup that night.

Deciding that it was best to remove any such temptation out of Mrs Tomkins’s way, he called for his horse and set off back to tow
n, stopping at The King’s Arms for his supper, where he rang for a waiter and summoned some ale and a light repast.

*

When her first invitation to a ball arrived on a silver salver, Holly was overtaken by a whirlwind of emotion. Would she take? Would she be a complete disaster? It would be her first ball as a duchess and a ball, after all, was very important.

The invitation was printed on tasteful cream paper, and written in a rich dark ink. Lady Castlereagh
, who had decided to remain in town until the roads became more tolerable, was to host this grand event to formally launch the Little Season.

Ho
lly examined the card in a daze as she tried to picture every eventuality of attending. Lady Louisa, who had received her own invitation with a lot less interest, regarded her with an expression of saintly patience and just a hint of amusement.

“You seem somewhat green about the gills, my dear Holly.”

Holly’s eyes flew to hers in surprise and she flushed a little at having been caught out. “I was only thinking of this ball. It seems a very momentous occasion.”

Lady Louisa
waved a dismissive hand. “It’s important, and Emily Castlereagh never fails to host the most marvellous gatherings – but it is nothing to fret about, and you are fretting. I can tell. It’s rather affecting my coffee, so I do wish you wouldn’t.”

“You pardon!” Holly laughed. “I feel
like nothing so much as a fish out of water.”

“I can’t imagine why – did not Lord Bettenhall compare you t
o a swan in his new composition?”

Holly’s flush grew warmer
still. “I wish he hadn’t.”

“Oh,
pish! It will do that duke of yours good to hear a verse or two in your honour.”

Her d
uke… Holly wondered if Strathavon would be at the ball. As far as she knew, he had not been seen about town, though he had returned. Since hearing word of his arrival back in London, she had been living on the edge of a knife, wandering at his mysterious silence, expecting him to come barging into Lady Louisa’s parlour to demand an explanation of his renegade wife.

A part of her longed to run into him on the street or at some party – she had spent a great deal of time wondering what he would say and how he would look. And what would
her own response be? Would she dismiss him, raising her chin proudly and sweeping past, or would she fall into his arms, melt into his embrace like the last snow of spring?

She imagined what it would be like, to appear at the ball in her finest gown, only to turn around and find him standing beside her, his face painted with love and desire.

Would he kiss her right there, or scandalise the
ton
even more by brazenly sweeping his own wife on to the dance floor? Her heart constricted with longing at this wistful fantasy.

Lady Louisa was unaware of Holly’s inner struggle.
“You ought to wear your new leather shoes, I think. The ones embroidered with tiny bluebells – they will go splendidly with your gown…” mused Holly’s instructress.

W
hen the night of the ball was finally upon her, the duke had failed to show any sign of being aware of her existence at all. No one barged into the parlour or leapt into her carriage. Holly’s nerves were at absolute breaking point.

An hour before she was due to begin her toilette,
Holly requested a cup of weak black tea with arrack and no lemon, in an effort to settle her nerves. It was the very same brew that her mama had always ordered for her when she’d been ill as a child.

Her stoma
ch was positively fluttering as she imagined making her entrance in front of so many people.

She sat curled up on a soft
sofa in the parlour, cradling the cup and gazing out of the window. Her governess would have been appalled at such an unladylike display, she thought wryly.

Lady Louisa watched her, eyes filled with unmistakable amusement.

“Forgive me, my dear,” she said, noticing Holly’s startled glance. “I own I completely forgot what it is to first embark on to society. It was so many years ago now that I was in a situation similar to your own. You know, I have only taught you how to proceed – it is your liveliness and charm that are the real reason you will see success. And those are entirely your own.”

It was a very kind
thing to say, and Holly gave her friend a grateful smile. She had assumed that Lady Louisa had always been the elegant, confident creature she was today, and was therefore greatly taken aback at this revelation.

“It is only that t
hey now expect me to be something remarkable, and I doubt I could live up to that. I shouldn’t like it above half if they believed me to possess a commonplace mind…” Holly said, looking alarmed.

“
And so you shouldn’t – but that is impossible, I assure you. You must stand tall and hold your head up high. You are no longer a demure debutante. You shall have your victory – but only if you go victoriously towards it. One should never balk at pursuing their desires. Courage is paramount in the wife of the premier peer of the realm.”

“Even if the premier peer is nowhere to be seen?”

“
That
does not matter. Let the silly boy sulk if he must – he will turn up before long, I promise you. Trust me on that head. And who knows what valuable friends you may make tonight!”

And there
certainly were friends to be made, even despite her initial distraction. Before the night was half-gone, Holly was already exhausted from hoping to catch sight of the duke. She longed to be home and in bed despite the wonderful evening going on around her. In an effort to keep up some vestige of cheerfulness, she decided to make a pilgrimage to the refreshments table.

She hoped
for some kind of distraction and was extremely pleased when he happened her way at last, demonstrating a most impeccable sense of timing.

Sir
John Compton was a slight, handsome man with thoughtful blue eyes, and a reserved manner. Lost in his admiration of a young lady in pink, he accidentally stepped on the train of Holly’s silk gown. Realising his
faux
pas
, he flushed instantly, treating Holly to a whole litany of apologies.

“D
o stop, I beg you,” Holly laughed, unable to remain serious in the face of such unassailable good breeding. “I remain unharmed, but I can’t promise that I shan’t get the vapours if you continue apologise much longer.”

The gentleman stopped short, surprised by such a direct manner and the amused brown eyes that were peering at him with a great deal of good humour.

“Ah,” he said
, unsure how he ought to continue, when he had not even been introduced to the young lady whose gown he had treated to poorly.

Holly noticed his chagrin and smil
ed encouragingly. “Perhaps in light of our unusual meeting, we may exchange names
sans
hostess – I am almost certain that under the circumstances it would be entirely forgivable.”

The gentleman nodded uncertainly and gave his name with a perfectly executed bow.

“I am the Duchess of Strathavon,” Holly said, in an off-handed tone which seemed to confuse Sir John.

“I beg your pardon.
I should have known.”

“How should you?” asked Holly, shaking her head. “I am only just come to town, and
I am but newly wed.”

“Then I must give my felicitations,” her new acquaintance said.

“As is only right and proper,” intoned the duchess gravely before smiling again. “Now that we have passed the formalities, I think we had better become friends right away. Then you may tell me about the young lady you’ve been admiring with such fervour.”

Thi
s seemed to make the gentleman bashful. He flailed for a response. “You are much mistaken, Lady Strathavon.”

“I think I am right on the mark. I will also venture to deduce from your demeanou
r that I have unsettled you. And that is largely because you have yet to make your intentions known to the lady in question. I can tell, you see, because I have three brothers myself, and I have grown very good at recognising the signs over the years. A sister’s intuition, if you will.”

The gentleman smiled despite himself at this earnest explanation.

“Ah. I have never had a sister, and so I must take your word for it, but I own you are correct. She is the niece of Lady Louisa Somerville, you know, and the daughter of the Earl of Chenefelt. I’m afraid Miss Verity Dacre is greatly above my touch.”

“Is she? I cannot imagine why you’d think that. Most likely, it is only that you have failed to make yourself known to her. And how should you blame her then for not returning your regard, when she does not know you?”
Holly glanced over at the young woman.

“I had not thought of it,”
came the uncertain reply.

“Of course not.
The best gentlemen never do. But fear not. I have decided I shall help you.” Holly had always been better at managing the romances of others, after all.

“By gad!
Will you indeed?” Sir John had never met so curious a female and while he supposed he ought to have been offended by her odd manner, he found himself swept up in her wake, somewhat dazed and even a little hopeful. There was something about Holly that made Sir John want to know what she might do next.