Lord Love a Duke (5 page)

Ladies Miranda and Juliet watched the
approaching riders and the ensuing dust cloud from the terrace off
the second floor ballroom. Each twisted the ribbons of her bonnets
as they stared down from their perch.

"Mayhap you will find a husband from this
band of peers,” Juliet remarked as she carefully looked over the
approaching riders. “I do not see my brother. I suppose he rides
accompanying my parents' carriage." She studied the horsemen again
then spun to look at her friend, her face alive with the thrill of
a new idea. "Oh, Randa! What of causing your brother to think you
interested in a marital candidate from the LOO? How delicious! He
would be beside himself to prevent you from pursuing one of his
schoolmates, or letting them pursue you. That would turn the tables
on him, no doubt, or at least make him feel dyspeptic as he
watches."

Miranda's mouth slowly began to curl up in a
devilish smile. "How better to turn the marriage mart stakes back
in my favor than only having eyes for a member of the LOO." She
grabbed Juliet's arm and squeezed tightly. "My dearest, have I told
you lately how much I like the way you think? Your idea shall be my
backup should our hoaxes fail to deter Jonas' plans. I would rather
not spend more time than needed with any of those hounds unless
absolutely necessary for my cause." The ladies began to laugh, the
light sound flowing down to the drive to the ears of the
now-stopped horsemen, drawing their attention to the terrace. Heavy
booted footfalls behind them caused the ladies to notice Jonas
joining them to glare down at his arriving friends.

"Ho there, Jonas, what have we here? Some of
those pleasant diversions for the week?" Roman de Courtenay,
Marquis of Stafford, cast an appreciative leer upward, his
statement bringing smiles to the faces of his friends.

"Hardly, Stafford. We are all acquainted by
virtue of university tales and ballroom soirees.” The Duke extended
his arm to the ladies to his left. “Allow me to present once again
my sister, Lady Miranda. She is joined by her best friend, Lady
Juliet Quinn, daughter of our neighbor, the Marquis of Lansdowne,
sister to our own dear Bristol.”

“Oh bother, Jonas! We all are acquainted and
need not this ceremonial flummery,” Miranda scolded.

“The formality sets the tone I wish to
convey to these louts.” The Duke paused here for effect. “In other
words, do not tamper nor toy with, and certainly do not touch these
ladies," he called down to his friends. "Consider this your only
warning," he informed them with teeth gritted. Miranda scowled but
remained silent.

"Now that is a pity," remarked the Earl of
Aylesford, trying to deliberately raise his friend's ire. “And
while I am too much the gentleman to remark on the beauty of your
sister, at least in your presence Dorset, as Bristol has not joined
us yet and cannot draw my cork for any comments, I will observe
that you, Lady Juliet, are most stunning." Aylesford gave a half
bow and a full smirk.

Having just thought this himself more times
within the past twenty-four hours than he would care to admit,
Jonas could not disagree, but he also could not let the challenging
comment go unanswered. “As her brother will soon join our party I
suggest you school your thoughts. In addition to Bristol, Lady
Juliet will also be chaperoned by her parents. I do not think the
Marquis would be so understanding of your appreciation.” Jonas cast
a disparaging glance at the Earl but was prevented from speaking
further by his sister pushing him further down the balustrade and
away from their location on the terrace.

"Jonas! Do be a good host and be kind to
these gentlemen," intoned Miranda patronizingly as she smiled
flirtatiously in the general direction of all the lords.

The Duke grimaced but stood quiet at her
remonstrance. Immediately the Marquis of Hertford jumped into the
silence, dismounting gallantly and doffing his hat to make a low,
sweeping bow. "Lady Miranda, it is indeed a pleasure." Turning, he
made another low bow then dropped onto one knee. "'But soft! What
light through yonder window breaks? It is the east, and Juliet is
the sun.'"

The riders burst into laughter at the antics
of the Marquis while Juliet smiled but faintly and rolled her eyes
at Miranda before moving to the edge of the terrace railing. "My
Lord Hertford, you honor me, as many others have before you, with a
quote from that famous bard. Please do not trouble yourself to
think original words, but pray favor me with another familiar
line." She gave a small curtsey and wry smile to blunt her sarcasm.
The lords all convulsed with laughter over her gentle set down,
with Aylesford throwing his hat at Hertford. The Marquis
straightened to his full height, placing a hand over his heart in
mock wound.

"'She speaks! Oh speak again, bright
angel!'" he continued his quotations. The lords snickered while
Jonas began to look irritated with the exchange.

Juliet retied the bow on her bonnet, having
fidgeted with the ribbons until they had loosened. She pointedly
fixed her gaze on the Marquis. "'What man art thou that thus
bescreen'd in night so stumblest on my council?'" she returned,
deftly throwing lines from the famous play as well. As she shared
her name with its heroine, her first governess had felt the need to
make her memorize numerous passages. Juliet remembered each line
learned but still thought it a foolish exercise forced upon her.
She lowered her lashes coquettishly before batting them several
times in what she hoped was a flirtatious manner, although she felt
a little foolish at her attempt to play the simpering miss for the
Marquis.

Hertford remained quiet, obviously
struggling for another line as he looked around at his friends for
support. Aside from a rude hand gesture offered by his cousin
Aylesford, he was left to his own devices to continue the witty
repart
ée
. After a few more moments of
awkward silence he threw up his arms in defeat. "Alas, I have
reached the end of my repertoire, dear miss,” he offered, smiling
sheepishly. “I forfeit to you, sweet Lady Juliet, and pray you will
favor me with more words when next we meet." He executed another
formal bow in submission. He was rewarded for his efforts with a
kick to his rear by Aylesford, barely maintaining his footing.

Juliet smiled down from the terrace, silver
eyes sparkling mischievously. "I accept your forfeit, my lord, with
a boon to be named later, perhaps." The ladies curtsied then turned
on their heels and exited into the house with graceful swishing of
their skirts. The Duke watched their departure before turning back
to his comrades.

“I must say, Jonas, that at this moment I am
heartily glad I accepted your invitation to this house party. I
believe the entertainment you promised will be most diverting
indeed,” continued the Marquis.

The Duke harrumphed before making his reply.
“See to your horses, gentlemen. The supper gong sounds at seven
sharp this eve. We begin country hours immediately.” He turned away
from the railing as the men moved towards the stables. Thinking of
the exchange he just witnessed, he was reminded of a line from
another Shakespearean play: “Lady Juliet, 'get thee to a nunnery,'”
he muttered to himself.

In total there were four and twenty
unattached attendees plus respectable chaperones for the party at
Edgecliff, with the numbers perfectly balanced between single
ladies and gentlemen. In addition to the five Lords of Oxford came
Viscount Melville, né George Stansbury, a tall and slender man of
thirty years, and his friend Mr. Gregory Burke, the handsome but
bland second son of Earl Macclesfield. The Duchess invited Lord
Anthony Carmichael, Viscount Torrington, who two years prior at the
age of six and twenty inherited his title, along with the
accumulated debt of the previous Viscount. His easy manners and
natural charm allowed him to remain an affable and respectable
gentleman, a benign sort of fortune hunter. Viscount Torrington
sought and received an invitation for his friend, the Earl of
Dartmouth, whom he knew to be quietly sifting through the
marriageable ladies as he needed a wife, an heir, and help with his
younger sisters. He was known as a bit of a rake, but an honorable
one that left the innocent and the married alone.

Mr. Daniel Shaw was invited due to his
sister, Miss Harriet, being an especial friend to both Juliet and
Miranda. It did not hurt, in the Duke's eyes, that he was an
extremely wealthy member of the landed gentry with his family
owning a large majority of the county of Lancashire. Two other
friends of the Lords of Oxford, army officers Major William Hughes
and Major Lord Marcus Quinn, brother to Lady Juliet, were scheduled
to join the party late, their attendance to be a surprise to the
Quinn family. Lady Juliet was as yet unaware that her brother had
returned from the continent and would be joining the party.

While chiefly a party to engage a suitable
suitor for Lady Miranda, propriety called for a respectable number
of singe ladies to also be in attendance. Lady Margaret Stansbury,
sister to Viscount Melville, was included as her brother squired
her to all events he attended. Little was known of the quiet lady,
but she was always observed to be all that was proper and polite.
Miss Harriet Shaw and Miss Elinor Gates, two ladies quite comely in
appearance, were included as members of Miranda's intimate circle
but the Duke had no fear they would overshadow his sister. Two
friends from Miranda's sewing circle were included at her request,
Ladies Temperance Warren and Gertrude Lovelace, in the hopes her
friends might aid in distracting any unwanted suitors from their
prey.

The presence of the Earl of Dartmouth
regrettably meant the presence of his nearest sister, Lady
Philippa, a lady altogether too fond of her own voice, too
convinced of the superiority of her own opinions, and too enamored
of her own countenance. These unfortunate attributes contributed to
the motivation of her brother to find her a husband sooner rather
than later, hence her invitation to the party. The Duchess of
Dorset and the Marquis and Marchioness Lansdowne would stand as the
highest-ranking chaperones, in addition to the various mothers and
maids accompanying each lady.

The Duchess of Dorset arranged for a variety
of entertainments over the fortnight, activities both indoor and
outdoor, as determined by the weather. The first day would be spent
without a scheduled pursuit as some guests would still be arriving.
Those already settled were invited to take a turn in the gardens,
enjoy a book or a rest in the library, or indulge in a game of
cards or billiards. The music room was also opened for those
possessed of that talent.

Instead, Juliet and Miranda spent their
morning ensconced in their rooms readying themselves for their
first scheme. While attired in normal walking dresses, Juliet
carried a small portmanteau that contained two older, threadbare
gowns and aprons, and two bottles of spirits. Miranda carried a
similar valise that held a large number of whortleberries. Taking
the servants' stairs in the rear of the house, the two were able to
sneak out undetected as the staff were occupied welcoming and
settling the newly arrived guests. After achieving some distance
from the house the ladies burst into laughter at their success so
far.

“Jules, we are going to have the best time
this fortnight. I swear I should have thought of bedeviling Jonas
much sooner. I have never felt so alive, free, and excited as I do
at this moment.”

Juliet grabbed her friend's hand and
squeezed it conspiratorially. “I agree. My mind is positively
racing with our ideas. I think we shall have the most fun of our
lives.”

The friends laughed again as they hurried on
the path through the woods that would lead them to the sportsman's
cabin. The tiny house lay near the property line separating
Edgecliff from the Quinn's home, Belle Rêverie. It was isolated
enough that their presence would go undetected, their plan of
action uninterrupted.

The heat from the fire in the small hearth
was astonishingly oppressive, but Miranda and Juliet persevered.
Although Miranda complained long and loudly, crushing the berries
in the cloth had been the easy part. Forcing the mixture through a
sieve and into the small pan was done with relative ease as well.
Neither lady had realized how tedious it would be to force
themselves to stir and watch the pot as the juice reduced over the
flames.

"I think we are working much too hard for
such a small prank," declared Juliet as she stirred with one hand
and wiped her drenched brow with a cloth. "I had not realized just
how much labor goes into the task of cooking, especially in this
stifling heat, and we are only making a small amount of syrup. I
begin to think this is the height of folly."

Miranda lifted her head from its resting
place on the small cutting block on the table and dipped her own
cloth into a nearby pan of water. Not bothering to wring out the
excess, she mopped her face with the wet scrap and moaned. "This
should have been a prank for the winter months. I am in
misery."

They had opened all the windows in the tiny
sportsman's cabin, but no breeze could be coaxed to come inside.
Juliet looked down at her sprigged muslin gown of lilac and noticed
even the embroidered rosettes decorating the neckline looked wilted
from the heat. Her thick apron had lost it starch long ago, but it
had served its purpose well as it was dotted with telltale drops of
berry juice.

"Randa, come look at this syrup,” she
demanded, once again focusing on their task. “It looks like the
drizzle cook pours over custard. I think it will suffice. It is
very dark, just as Hampton predicted. I am so glad I confided our
scheme to him else the first joke would not have worked from the
outset. He gave me a bottle of fine port in addition to the brandy.
Brandy is amber in color while the port is very dark; he thought
our berry syrup would be less noticeable in port. Seeing the color
of this concoction I am inclined to agree."