Authors: Claudy Conn
THE DUKE PREPARED to enter the Dyson Rout and watch his sprite of a woman swept off her feet by any number of eligible bachelors.
Pain filled his chest, and he wondered why it felt so tight. He had to back away from her; only a complete scoundrel would stand in her way.
She was, as Becky had dubbed her, a madcap of a woman. Lively and beautiful, dear, gentle of heart, and wild to a fault. She had kept him in a busy dance from the time he had met her, and he couldn’t remember a moment he hadn’t been glad she was in it.
What then?
He was her guardian. It was his duty to see her well established. There was nothing for it but to keep himself at arm’s length and allow her to meet and review an array of suitors. He had no doubt that one of them would steal her away and that his life would forever be empty without her in it.
After all, she had come to him only because he had rescued her and been there during a vulnerable time in her life. He had no right, none whatsoever, to want her the way that he did.
She was, in spite of their burning and erotic night together, an innocent.
He walked into the ballroom and stood a moment, watching the festivities as his name was announced.
Heads turned … but the only person he saw was her, and he saw her at once.
She was a ravishing young woman in a gown of pale cream velvet. Her cascading black curls bounced as she took a step towards him. Her piquant face was upturned to him … just for him.
And at her side was the young Earl of Corlumby.
He was a tall and handsome young man. He had fortune and title, and from the little the duke knew of him, he was a nice enough fellow. From the way the young earl was staring at Felicia’s profile, he obviously was much taken.
Felicia hurried towards him, her young earl following her like a puppy. She put out both her gloved hands, and the duke sucked in air so that he could breathe and then speak. “Felicia,” he said softly.
“I have been waiting for you,” Felicia said breathlessly, seemingly heedless of whatever her young earl might think. She turned to him and said, “Willy, this is my …” She hesitated and inclined her head, her green eyes twinkling at him. “… guardian, the Duke of Somerset.”
‘Willy’ put out his hand. “We are acquainted already … in a way, as I have seen you in passing at White’s.”
The duke allowed him a friendly enough smile. “Indeed, I am also a friend of your uncle’s.”
“Uncle Roland? Yes, yes, grand ol’ fellow.”
The duke suddenly felt very aged indeed. Here was this chap who couldn’t be more than three and twenty beside his twenty-year-old ward …
and he
approaching thirty. His heart suddenly gave him a twinge in his chest.
Felicia’s eyes narrowed as she met his, and she said, “’Tis a waltz, Your Grace … and though it is unorthodox
for me
to ask
you,
would you lead me out for my first one of this season?”
His breath hitched in his throat. He saw ‘Willy’ stand back respectfully, and he offered his arm to his ward. He had to keep telling himself: she was his ward. “I am honored—how could it be otherwise?”
* * *
She knew what he was doing. Felicia had had a very good cry, the Lady Daphne had come in and put a stop to it, and then they had a very wonderful talk where she had gained a great deal of insight.
She had after Lady Daffy’s ‘talk’ decided not to give up on the duke.
How could she give up on him, when he was the ‘love of her life’?
He was honor-bound to keep her at a distance. He was honor-bound to see to it she had a choice of suitors and the ability to freely choose. He was, in an awful nutshell,
honor-bound
. Well, he had one month to cater to his honor, and then, she would make certain, he catered to hers!
This had made her laugh to herself, and now, looking up during their waltz, into eyes that told her she was not wrong, she felt her world come together.
Softly he said, “You should be dancing with one of those beaus dangling after you.”
She decided to torture him in the interim and pouted up at his face. “
La,
but I don’t want to dance with anyone else. Why must I?”
“You know why.”
“I do, but I don’t like it. I would much rather dance all night with you,” she said truthfully.
“Don’t you like your, er …
Willy
or any of the others here tonight?”
“Oh, yes, Willy especially because he is quite a nice young man, and very accommodating as well, but you can’t think he would be a good fit
for me
? Why, I should run him ragged. I don’t need
a boy
, Your Grace
, I
need
a man
.”
“Don’t call me ‘Your Grace’. We are in a sense, family, and it would be proper for you to call me Glen.”
“I shall call you Ashton, then, for it is how I came to think of you when neither one of us thought we were … er … like family.” She twinkled as the tease took over her face.
He laughed. “What am I going to do with you?”
“I could answer that, but I would rather you see it for yourself,” Felicia said meaningfully.
“What, my dear, is it that you want me to see?”
“Ah, now giving you the answer would spoil all the fun,” she said and turned to smile to a young man who had arrived to nod respectfully at the duke and bow to take her hand for the next cotillion.
She gave her guardian a demure smile as she allowed the young man to lead her off.
* * *
Hours and hours later, somewhere in the wee time of night, Felicia tossed in her large bed. Thoughts of her duke were keeping her fitfully awake.
Lady Daphne had been ecstatic, telling her she had been quite a hit and was the ‘new darling’ of the beau monde. She had smiled and thought that while that was very pleasant, it didn’t really matter. All that mattered was how she felt about the duke—how he felt about her.
The duke had declared the rout a modest affair, but she had thought it quite splendid in every imaginable way. She had danced with many, so many very pleasant young and older men. Scott had even stood up with her for a waltz, saying his shoulder was not so very stiff after all and that he wanted to practice for when Becky arrived. She had laughed at him, and he had turned red but took her teasing with good grace.
When Beau Brummell arrived and was presented to her, she thought the night perfect. She had heard so much about the arbitrator of men’s fashions and was thoroughly enchanted with the Beau. She had been both shocked and delighted at his outrageous comments and conversation and it was remarked upon by both the duke and Lady Daphne afterwards that the Beau had been quite taken with her. In fact, the duke whispered that the Beau had told him, “Your ward is not only a bright star but a refreshing change from the insipid misses I have lately encountered.”
She had laughed and said, “Indeed, I may be many things, but insipid?” She shook her head and laughed again.
“Well, my dear, now all of the
ton
know, as I do, that you are a ‘diamond of the first water’.”
“I don’t give a fig for anyone’s opinion but yours … and Lady Daphne’s,” she said demurely, peeping up at him.
“Don’t you, my dear?” He laughed. “What of Scott?”
“Oh, well, he and I are friends and are forever giving one another our opinions on this or that, but it isn’t the same, is it?”
“No, I don’t suppose it is,” he said and chuckled.
Earlier, however, she had been pleased to hear him complaining to his sister, “Daffy, do but look at all the damned puppies drooling over her.
Dashed annoying.
”
“Annoying? How so?” Daffy had answered. “She is a hit. It is quite wonderful, brother, quite wonderful.”
“None of them will do for her,” he had snapped.
Felicia smiled to herself. He might be her guardian, yes, indeed, but he was also a man, and she was sure he had been jealous this evening. It was on this very pleasant notion that she finally fell asleep.
* * *
Felicia uncurled herself from the sofa and threw down the boring book she had been trying to read when Rebecca Wilson was announced.
They rushed one another and squealed with delight as they hugged, and then Felicia set her aside and said, “My, my … look at you, all fashionable and ready to take on London and, oh, all your bruises healed. I am so glad.”
Her friend’s tawny locks had been slightly trimmed and curled beneath the pretty straw chip bonnet with its blue ribbon. She wore a blue silk walking ensemble and did, in fact, look very fashionable.
Felicia made her swirl around in front of her and clapped her hands before saying, “I know what.
We shall go out
. We can’t keep all this beauty of yours locked up inside, and I have so been wanting to get some air.”
Within a short span of moments, Felicia had on her dark green velvet Spencer and set her own pretty matching bonnet in place over her cascading black curls. She gave herself a quick look in the mirror, pulled on her kid gloves, and took her friend’s arm.
“Where are we going?”
“To walk in Hyde Park.” Felicia smiled.
Their heads together, they found they could not stop chattering about this and that, and they giggled so happily that the distance to the park was traveled in no time.
A young boy no more than ten held up several posies of flowers and with wide, round eyes begged Felicia, “Please, loidy, would ye loike to buy m’flowers …
pretty flowers
.”
“Oh, my, they are lovely. I can’t carry them now, but I tell you what. Here is enough for the lot of them, and if you go to 810 Kensington Square, Waverly House, and tell Cook I sent you with these flowers and that I want you fed, she will give you a meal. How is that?”
The boy seemed so overcome that he went down on one knee. “Oi will be yer knight …
forever.
Oi will serve ye if ye let me, miss.”
“Will you? Well, if you would like to work for me, I think I have a job for you,” Felicia said as she looked the scrawny but sweet-faced boy over. How could she allow this poor young man to wither on the streets when she had so much? “Do you know anything about horses?”
“Oi do, that Oi do, and Oi will learn whot Oi don’t.”
“Then don’t forget, 810 Kensington, and tell Cook Miss Felicia asked for you to be fed and then wait for me in the kitchen.”
“Oi will, that Oi will.”
“Tell them Miss Felicia has hired you, and you are not to be turned away. Will you remember that?”
“Oi.” He nodded his head vigorously.
“What is your name?”
“They call me Bean.”
“Bean? Is that your last name?”
“Only one Oi have, seeing as Oi be an orphan.”
Felicia felt her heart turn over. “Right then. I shall see you later at Waverly House.”
After the lad raced off, Becky eyed her friend and hugged her. “I love you, Felicia Easton.”
Felicia blushed, but before she could respond, a hackney horse rose up on its rears as an elderly man had slapped it hard with a cane and shouted for the driver to get out of his way.
When the poor horse came down, snorting and screeching, it was further frightened by the elderly man waving his cane in the air.
The driver was unable to get control, and he and his cab were nearly overturned. The horse knocked into a nearby wagon full of vegetables and fruits, and the entire wagon went over.
Pandemonium.
Traffic was immediately blocked and halted. People began crowding around the scene to observe. Curiosity brought more groups to the scene, and, looking much like mob factions, people began taking sides. Opinions and arguments were taken to the next level. Punches were thrown, and screaming and shouting ensued.
Felicia and Becky attempted to extricate themselves, but the crush of the crowd was frightening and difficult to wield.
As they made their way through the ribald crowd all shouting at one another and the vendor and the hackney driver, Felicia saw a face in the crowd that seemed familiar. Although he hurriedly moved off and pulled his tweed wool cap low over his eyes, she thought she knew him.
Frowning, she shrugged it off and continued to pull Becky along as they tried to make their way out of the mess they had somehow got caught up in.
* * *
“Eh, then, do ye see whot Oi see?” a stout fellow in a tweed wool cap asked of his companion. He pulled his wool coat tightly around himself. “Damn her to bloody hell. Look at her, walking in all her finery while we are in rags and scurrying for our meals.”
“Aye, it is all her fault. If she hadn’t told her father we was the ones stealing the grain and selling it, we would still have a plush job, we would.”
“Aye, and how did she ever twig our ken, Oi don’t know.”