Lord Love a Duke (14 page)

The Duke motioned to Hastings as he and
Stafford exited the dining room. “Please tell Earls Bristol and
Aylesford and the Marquis of Hertford to come to my study.” He
turned to call out to the Marquis of Stafford's departing back.
“Roman, I do not think our friends are behind this so I ask you to
cool your temper as you clean up. We will await you in the study
and get to the bottom of this.”

Jonas entered his study and stopped to run
his hand through his hair as his mind raced. As he thought about
the two follies that had occurred, he was convinced the wrong
people had been victimized.
He
should have
been swimming this morning, as was his routine. At the last minute
he had received a note from his steward at the ducal estate in Kent
and turned back from the stables, leaving Stafford to ride alone,
insisting he exercise Paladin in his stead.
He
should have taken the drinks from the tampered
bottle of port. Because he was hosting this ridiculous party, he
had been too busy to do aught but work while in his study, and
certainly had no leisure to settle in with a drink.

He walked over to the window and saw his
sister and Lady Juliet all but running across the lawn and into the
gardens when a flash of insight burst into his mind. Those two must
have schemed to play jokes on him, for unknown reasons, but his
change of plans each time had caused other individuals to become
the recipients of the gags. He was convinced he now knew the
perpetrators. All that remained was to figure out the grounds for
their dodges.

“Has Stafford cooled down a bit or should we
hide until you can calm him?” asked the Earl of Aylesford warily as
he strolled into the study. The Earl of Bristol and Marquis of
Hertford followed soon after, shutting the door behind them. Jonas
turned from his preoccupation at the window to face his
friends.

“I sent him up to change with the warning
that he needed to compose himself and consider that others were at
work in his folly,” the Duke answered.

“If it's all the same, I'd still rather he
be checked for weapons when he joins us,” joked Bristol.

The Duke grinned briefly and walked around
to the decanters behind his desk. “It's quite early, gentlemen, but
anyone need some fortification? 'Tis a new bottle of port, of
course,” he added, winking at Bristol and Aylesford, “or some
brandy for those of you still squeamish at the thought of
port.”

“
I'll let someone else
take the first draught and just check the condition of their teeth,
if you don't mind. If all's well, pour me a portion, and do not be
stingy with it. And this better be the good stuff,” responded
Aylesford. “That stuff we drank was sweet and thick.”

The Marquis of Stafford threw open the door
with a bang and entered with fire in his eyes and a grim expression
on his face, causing the room full of lords collectively to jump in
surprise. His hair was still wet but he no longer smelled of horse
blanket nor pond and was thankfully clothed in his usual
understated elegance. “Save the good stuff till we find out what is
going on around here,” he suggested with a growl.

“Stafford, I told you other forces were at
work here so keep up!” yelled the Duke, so startled by the loud
entrance that he nearly dropped the decanter from which he poured.
He grabbed a fifth glass and filled them all half-full. “Everyone
grab a glass and a seat and let's figure this all out.”

Each gentleman did as they were told, with
Hertford passing around cheroots, grabbing a Chinese jostic from a
shelf to light their small cigars. When all were settled, puffing
and drinking, the Duke began.

“
Gentlemen, I promised you
entertainment while suffering in the country with me, and I believe
it has begun. The object of this little soir
é
e was to find my sister a suitable
husband, to which she has been vehemently opposed. I think she
decided to thwart me, in her own maniacal way, by pulling pranks on
me. Unfortunately, I neither drank my typical glass of spirits
before bed nor rode and swam this morning, again, as was my habit.
My deviation from the routine left the jokes to fall on you all, my
friends.”

Hertford shifted in his seat and propped his
feet on the low table located in the middle of the seating area.
“As nothing has happened to me I can truly appreciate the devious
genius behind these pranks. I, myself, would love to know what she
did to make the port discolor your teeth so well. I should like to
try that out at White's some night.” He raised his glass in a mock
salute to Bristol and Aylesford as he puffed on his cheroot then
blew out a perfect ring. “Stealing clothes while someone swims is
very schoolroom, but the blue mouths that Aylesford and Bristol
sported were bang on.”

Aylesford jumped up quickly and grabbed
Hertford's cheroot from between his teeth and snuffed it out in the
Marquis's drink, earning the Earl a condemnation for ruining both a
good smoke and a good brandy.

“As I was saying,” began the Duke again, “my
sister, and I am reasonably sure Lady Juliet, have been busy trying
to gull me. What I cannot figure out is to what purpose.”

“My sister would do whatever your sister
asked her to do,” offered Bristol, “and would be right there in the
thick of it to plan and execute a good jape.”

Stafford leaned forward and quickly stole
Aylesford's cheroot for himself before reclining once again in his
seat. “If the two ladies are indeed responsible for these
happenings, I would assume it's in retaliation for the marriage
mart you and the Duchess have set up for Lady Miranda. We know your
sister wants another season, and we all heard how Lady Juliet feels
about marriage.”

“Speaking of which, I was damned sorry to
hear Lady Juliet's feelings about the ol' parson's mousetrap. If
you'll excuse my saying so, Bristol, she's as clever as she is
beautiful. If she weren't your sister, I might be in a fair way to
pursue her,” confessed Hertford.

“I'm of the same opinion,” chimed Aylesford.
“I noticed her fine form at Lady Partridge's kick-off ball and
lamented she would be off limits. Not that I am succumbing, but I
did not mind the thought.”

Bristol sat up straighter in his seat,
slamming his glass on the table to reply when the Duke jumped in.
“Do not lose focus on this conversation, gentlemen, and do not
trouble yourselves to think anything more of Lady Juliet and her
many attributes. You would do well to remember she is off limits to
your eyes as well as your thoughts.” He cleared his throat,
mentally acknowledging the irony of his statement, and continued.
“Let us concentrate on how to address the problem of these pranks.
I am sure more are in store as they have yet to succeed in trapping
me. Any ideas?”

The lords started tossing out ideas for
revenge and retribution in a mad frenzy, save for the Earl of
Bristol. He sat back in his chair again, drink in hand, and
contemplated the Duke's defense of his sister. After watching the
heat flare in Jonas' eyes and his issuing of such stern warnings,
Bristol began to consider that the Duke might in fact have more
than a protective interest toward his sister. He filed the
revelation away for further contemplation as he observed the Duke
shrewdly.

Jonas held up his hand for silence. “I do
not want to wade into battle as yet. I propose a little
reconnaissance to see if they have something in train.”

“The easiest thing for us to do is always be
aware of your location and not leave you alone. We also need to
watch to see where the ladies go whenever they leave the main
group. I move we nominate Bristol to watch over his sister and Lady
Miranda,” volunteered Hertford.

“All those in favor,” asked Aylesford. After
hearing the resounding calls of 'aye' he determined the motion
carried and the subject closed, moving quickly to trap his friend
with that particularly odious and difficult job. “Very good.
Bristol is in charge of knowing his sister's, and Lady Miranda's
whereabouts at all times. The rest of us will make sure someone is
always with Dorset, with eyes and ears open as well.”

“Bloody hell, but I got the short end of
this just because she's my sister,” complained Bristol. “I don't
think we're at the pinch of the game yet so I'll be a nervous cat
by the party's end, no doubt.”

Juliet and Miranda made their excuses and
left the breakfast table for the isolation of the garden as soon as
the Duke left the room. Finding their favorite bench by the
fountain and small pond, they shared worried glances.

“I would be remiss if I did not point out
that the Marquis filled out that blanket very well, but why oh why
is it so difficult to pull a prank with any success?” wailed
Miranda. “It seems the more fool-proof we strive to make it, the
more likely it is to fail.”

“I hate to say this, but maybe it is because
of the
fools
trying to pull the prank.
Face it, Randa, we are out of our league trying to pull off
something on this grand a scale. Instead of talking with him
rationally, like the adult you claim to be, you decided to embark
on this multifaceted plan to embarrass him.” Juliet held her hand
up to stop Miranda before she could interrupt. “Hear me out,
dearest. I take my full responsibility as well because I have been
a willing participant in these devilries, but we must now face the
truth: we are terrible at this. And, upon further reckoning I fail
to see how these pranks will sway him to leave you alone. However,
all I am suggesting is perhaps you should have tried to reason with
your brother, and even your mother, about his expectations of you,
your pin money, your hobbies, and your future marriage.”

“I did, Jules, I swear it! He would have
nothing of it. I approached Mama but she only deferred to Jonas as
the 'head of this family.' And since when did you become my
brother's defender? You know how sanctimonious and controlling he
is. You've grown up right beside him as well as I.”

Juliet arched her brow and glared at her
best friend. “I am not your brother's defender, but I am beginning
to doubt the worthiness and end results of our schemes. Based on
the reactions we have observed so far, we are going to start a riot
amongst the Lords of Oxford, and when they find out we are the
cause of the trouble I think our true punishment will be worse than
we can imagine. Think on this: Your brother has thrown a house
party, when he hates parties above all things, in an attempt to
allow you to choose a husband. I grant you that he did not consult
you on the guest list, but he thinks your tastes too shallow and
that you are not serious about a husband. Is he wrong?”

Miranda served her own icy glare right back
at Juliet. “I dislike the word shallow. I prefer to think my tastes
run to fun and lighthearted gentlemen, those who are not inclined
to marry at this point, which is in alignment with my feelings.
And, of course, you are correct that I am not serious about a
husband. Why should I be? I am merely twenty. I am not on the shelf
and have at least two more years before marriage is the only
option, surely.”

“You know you do not have to convince me to
support you in postponing marriage, but more importantly, please
remember I will support you no matter what your decision. I think
we need to re-evaluate the approach we are taking toward your
brother. Honestly, I never considered what the outcome of these
pranks would be. Do you think he will change his mind about finding
a husband for you? Will he think you too clever by far and leave
you to your own devices? I am beginning to doubt the success of our
plans. I am afraid the opposite may occur, that he may withdraw
your ability to choose in the matter of marriage and decide the
matter wholly himself.”

Miranda slowly smiled and grabbed Juliet's
nearest hand. She brought it to her heart and squeezed gently.
“Thank you for saying you will support me. And while I know my
views on matrimony are nowhere near as 'radical' as yours, I am
frustrated that Jonas feels I need to marry right this instant. I
only ask for another Season to enjoy being unattached, flirting and
being my own mistress, so to speak.”

“Then that is what you should tell him. And
since you have had difficulty getting him to listen to you in the
past, I suggest a letter.” Miranda snorted at this. “You scoff, but
at least he will learn your reasons and you can meet on level
ground when next you speak.”

Miranda tilted her head as she thought over
Juliet's suggestion. “You may be correct that he will read my note,
hopefully in its entirety, but I doubt anything equitable will come
of it.”

“At least try, Randa. When you have
exhausted all you can, you can reassess and make your final
decisions from there.”

Miranda leaned over and hugged her best
friend. “I will go write him now, so we can speak of it soon, since
the marriage mart is now in full swing and the deadline looms. If I
cannot persuade him to listen, will you finish out your assignment,
the next prank?” Sticking out her right hand, pinky extended, she
looked at Juliet with a gleam in her eye. “In for a penny, my sweet
. . .”

Juliet heaved a deep, dramatic sigh. “In for
a pound.” The ladies shook pinkies in their unconventional way.
Miranda rose to leave the garden to write her letter. “But please,
Randa, make every effort to settle this with your brother. I
shudder to think how our next prank will backfire.”