Mad About the Duke (27 page)

“No wonder he wants to secure her so quickly,” one of the maids said. “Seems rather romantic and heroic, don't you think?”

“More foolery is what I think!” Mrs. Oxton complained. While the lady might pity the unwitting, she considered any widow foolish enough to fall into the Duke of Longford's coils hardly the sort worthy enough to marry their duke. “'Tis the end of all of us! I've had it from the cook over at Lord Hodges's, who had it from the housekeeper at the Duke of Hollindrake's, that those Standon widows are always up to some deviltry or another. Drove poor Hollindrake nearly to ruin with their spending and bickering, and that's why he banished them to that run-down house. And now one of 'em will be our ruin.”

The woman burst into tears, and all knew why. Parkerton's long years as a widow had been her boon. No mistress to answer to, running the house as she'd seen fit. It had been a housekeeper's dream position.

And now it was coming to a horrible, wrenching end.

Cantley walked over and snatched the letter from Winston's hand, tossing it into the fire before anyone
could stop him. “Not if she doesn't accept him.” He glanced around the staff.

Richards perked up. “If she isn't forewarned—”

“Then she won't be ready for him,” Cantley finished. “This madness of his may well be a blessing in disguise. If she isn't expecting him, still thinks him naught but her solicitor, then when he arrives and declares himself to be Parkerton, she'll think him mad and send him packing. With any luck.”

Fawley shook his head. “You didn't see them kissing.”

“That might not be an issue if she's already off to Longford's by the time he arrives,” Richards offered, a sly glint to his eyes.

“If the duke isn't there in time to stop her,” Cantley said, picking up the thread, “then this Lady Standon will become
their
problem.”

“Their” meaning Longford's staff. Let them have a new mistress, while Cantley and company could rejoice in seeing the Parkerton household return to its steady, predictable flow.

Everyone in the room nodded in agreement.

If they had to do anything today, it was ensuring that they did nothing right.

 

Elinor prowled about the parlor wondering what the devil she had done.

She'd gone and argued with St. Maur and sent him packing with a flea in his ear. Now, much to her regret, he'd taken her at her word and left her alone these past few days.

“Oh, Elinor! I wish you would reconsider accepting Longford's invitation,” Minerva said from the doorway of the parlor.

“I've been standing here thinking the very same
thing,” Elinor admitted. “On one hand, I can't see that I will ever have any true regard for the man, but on the other, what else can I do?”

Minerva crossed the room and took Elinor by the hands, holding out her arms and admiring the red velvet. “Go to him. Tell him everything. Beg for his help.”

Elinor knew exactly who Minerva meant.

St. Maur.

If Elinor had been honest, she would have admitted to her friend that she hadn't put the crimson velvet on for Longford—she'd done so in a moment of hopeful desire that
he
would come calling. That once St. Maur saw her in this gown, their argument would be forgotten, he'd call her
his Elinor
again and together they'd find a way out of this mess with Lord Lewis.

But now, after spending the last hour pacing about the room, the steady tread of her slippered feet seemed to say with each step,
Fool. Fool. Fool.

It was evident that he wasn't coming. Not tonight. Perhaps never again.

“I can't go to him,” she said in a soft voice, embarrassed to even be considering such a notion. “It wouldn't be proper.”

“Certainly not without these,” Minerva said, holding up the infamous string of Sterling diamonds. “Tia said you were down here moping about—”

“I am hardly moping,” Elinor protested, no matter that it was the truth.

“Well, no matter,” Minerva told her. “I've never come upon a mood that couldn't be lightened by wearing these.” She walked around Elinor and placed them on her throat, closing the clasp in the back. “I must confess that from time to time, I wear
them about my room and they make me feel entirely better.”

“Or utterly wicked, since they do not belong to you,” Elinor pointed out, her fingers running over the cool, hard diamonds.

Minerva laughed. “That may be part of their appeal.”

Both women turned and surveyed the stones in the mirror, and they sighed in unison as the diamonds sparkled enticingly around Elinor's neck.

“Such an utter shame to have to give them to the likes of Felicity Langley,” Minerva said. “Besides, I haven't given up hope that Mr. St. Maur will arrive at any moment and sweep you off your feet.”

“Minerva, how unlike you to give in to such impossible notions.”

“I suppose it is,” she said with a shrug, “but somehow, this past fortnight in this house, living with you and Lucy has changed me.” And before Elinor could say anything, she hastily added, “And I have no plans to go out and find some wicked baron. Not in the least. Why should I? With Lucy married to Clifton and you and St. Maur…well, now I have this wonderful house all to myself. So in the end, that will have to suffice as my happy ending.”

They both laughed.

Minerva nodded toward Elinor's reflection in the mirror. “As I said, those diamonds seem to make even the most unlikeliest of dreams come true.”

“Well, I don't think the duchess needs them tonight,” Elinor said, turning slowly and admiring both the jewels and the gown.

“No, she doesn't. But you do. I want you to call for a carriage, go to St. Maur, and make a clean breast of
everything,” Minerva told her. “And you must promise me that you allow him to do the same.”

Elinor shook her head. “Even if I dared—which I do not—I don't know where he lives.”

“I do,” her friend said with a mischievous sparkle in her eyes.

“How do you know?”

“That matters not! All that does is that you take this chance, Elinor. I've seen how he looks at you, and I know how you feel for him. Don't let this chance at happiness pass you by.”

There was a wistful note to Minerva's plea that suggested she knew of what she spoke. That she'd missed her own chance once and wasn't about to allow Elinor to make the same mistake.

“I cannot forget Tia's situation,” Elinor whispered.

“I think you underestimate Mr. St. Maur's resourcefulness, as well as your own,” Minerva told her, taking another examination of Elinor's attire. “Oh, how could I be such a ninny! I forgot the ear-bobs!” She whirled toward the door, then turned and said, “When I get back, you are going to St. Maur, no arguments! Do not force my hand, or I shall take you there at the point of Thomas-William's pistol.”

“Minerva Sterling! What would your Aunt Bedelia say of such a thing?”

The first Lady Sterling paused in the doorway. “I do believe she would approve. It is, according to family legend, how she induced her third husband to marry her.”

Once she was gone, Elinor took another critical glance at the mirror. “Oh, I cannot go to him,” she muttered. For while the dress and diamonds were
glorious, her knees trembled at the notion of taking matters into her own hands. Going to him and asking him to…

Just then the bell jangled, and she stilled, her eyes widening.

St. Maur! Could it truly be?

Elinor didn't wait to see if anyone would come to answer the door. No one ever did. Besides, she didn't want to waste a single moment if it was
him
.

She rushed to the door and flung it open.

“Going out, my lady?” Lord Lewis asked, the stench of cheap ale crossing the threshold in an eye-watering cloud.

 

Elinor recoiled and tried to force the door shut, but her stepfather was too fast, pushing his way in and taking a firm stance in the middle of the foyer.

“What are you doing here?” she demanded, sounding braver than she felt. “I'll call for Thomas-William if you do not leave immediately.”

The man laughed, cold and mean. “I'm not staying long. I've just come to—”

“—you will not,” Elinor told him. “I will not let you take her.”

“I don't want your sister.” As he glanced over at her, his eyes narrowed. “I want money.”

“Money? I haven't—”

“Then give me those diamonds. And I'll leave you and your sister alone for the rest of your days.”

Wary, Elinor circled around him, taking a quick glance up the stairs. Minerva was frozen on the landing, her eyes wide with shock, but then she nodded slowly and retreated silently back up the stairs.

To get the pistol.

Elinor had only to bide a few more moments of the man's company and then together they could order him out of the house.

“Give them to me,” Lewis said, lurching forward, his greedy fingers curled to rip them from her. “I'm rolled up and need some cash quickly, you stingy bitch.”

Her hand went to her throat. “They aren't mine. They belong to the Sterlings.
To Hollindrake
. If you take them, you'll answer to the duke.”

This stayed the man's hand. He swayed drunkenly, his eyes glazed as he seemed to gather his wits about him.

At least he had sense enough not to cross the duke.

Or any duke, for that matter. Elinor's chest constricted. How many more times could she do this? Brazen it out against him? What would happen when he came with the law behind him and could enforce his rights at will?

“How much do you need?” she asked, rushing inside the parlor and retrieving her reticule. It contained the last of her allowance. It wasn't much, but it was all she had. “You can have this, but you must promise to leave Tia alone.”

“How high and mighty you think you are!” he sneered as he snatched at the purse. “I'll take your money and I'll leave her be,” he laughed, settling it deep inside his jacket, “since the brat is no longer mine.”

Elinor stilled. “Whatever do you mean?”

“I mean, I've lost her,” he said, ambling toward the door. “Lost her guardianship at cards last night.”

The air rushed out of the room. “You lost her?” Elinor managed.

He waved a hand at her. “Aye. Lost her. Have you gone deaf?”

She looked around for something to hold onto as the room began to spin. “How could you ‘lose' her?”

Perhaps she didn't want to know.

Lord Lewis blew out an aggravated breath. “Haven't you been listening to a word I said, gel? I'm rolled up. Done for. Can't stay in Town cause I've papered one side of it to the other with vowels.” He glanced warily toward the door. “If I stay much longer, I'll end up in Newgate.”

Debtor's prison. Elinor's fears turned swiftly to anger. “It's a shame it's taken this long.”

His gaze narrowed. “Oh, you're a fine one to spit at me now. If you'd been a better wife, a
real
wife to old Sterling, you'd be the mother of a duke now instead of just another worthless widow.” He paused and glanced around at the poor surroundings. “I'll have you know your troubles are just beginning. You'll miss me, see that you don't.”

“I doubt it,” she said, wary of even believing that he was gone from their lives.

“You will when you've learned who's got the brat now.”

Elinor froze, the man's warning chilling her to her very bones. Who was worse than her stepfather? But her experiences with Edward Sterling told her that answer.

Plenty of men.

“Who?” she whispered.

“That fellow of yours, the one with all the pretend manners,” Lewis said, a mean smile turning his lips.

That fellow of yours.
She hadn't a clue about what he meant. She hadn't any fellow…

“Conned us both, seems to me,” Lewis continued, circling like a weasel. “Oh, he's a ripe clever rotter. Rooked me good, and now you in turn.”

“I don't know who—,” she began, then, glancing into her stepfather's malevolent gaze, one name came to mind.

St. Maur.

No, it couldn't be. And for a moment, she thought perhaps he'd done this for her. He'd gone and taken from Lewis the one thing that she wanted the most.

He'd done this to rescue her.

“I've been going over in my head how he did it,” Lewis said, rubbing his chin and shuffling his feet about. “I think when he found out that you hadn't the dowry all those fools have been wagging on and on about Town, he must have decided to get his share another way.”

Elinor shook her head. No, it couldn't be true. But then bits of conversation with him haunted her distracted thoughts.

If anyone inquires, what sort of dowry may they expect?

Have you any property or income from your previous marriage?

Innocent questions from one's solicitor, but what if…

As if reading her thoughts, Lewis continued, “So you know. He's a regular sharp, he is.”

“No,” she said, shaking her head, trying to push such thoughts out of her head. Grasping at the elusive memories of shopping in Petticoat Lane, walking in the park, exploring Colston.

“Oh, yes, you fool. He nearly beat Reddick.”

Elinor's gaze swung up. “Reddick?!”

There wasn't anyone in Town who didn't know
who Captain Reddick was—either by reputation or by unlucky circumstances.

“Aye, Reddick. Your fine fellow cleaned out every player at the table last night, had Reddick on the run as well, but the two of them ended up dividing the pool.”

“I don't believe you,” she said.

“You will when he shows up and takes her.”

“No, this cannot be, you have the wrong man.”