The Orphan and the Duke Page 8

  Amazed by how much better he felt after putting on the gloves and sparring, he increased his sessions to twice a week.

  As he fought with a man he didn’t know but had been paired with for the session, Basil was distracted by the females in his life. He kept imagining Miss Susan Mandeville, as well as Miss Vonda Van Eizenga. Their faces encouraged his prowess, and he fairly routed the poor gent.

  When the match was done, the man shook Basil’s hand. “Well done, sir. You’ve got quite the punching arm there.”

  “Thank you. I hope I wasn’t too hard on you.”

  “Not at all. I enjoyed the challenge and would be honored to spar again sometime soon.”

  “That would be wonderful.” Basil wiped his face with the towel he picked up from the chair beside the ring. “I’m Staun—sorry—Darnley.” Will I ever get used to introducing myself as the duke?

  “Nice to meet you, Lord Darnley. I’m Cuthbert. Myles Cuthbert.”

  “I imagine I will be seeing you here again soon, but in the meantime, would you like to join me for a drink? To cool off after our bout?”

  “Yes. That would be most kind. I can only stay for one as I must be getting back to my wife soon.”

  “Is she ill?”

  The men walked to the wardrobe to wash and change into clothing suitable for the club.

  “Oh no. Augusta is perfectly fine. She’s gone to visit her father, and I’m expected in time for the evening repast.”

  “I’m glad to hear she’s in fine health.”

  “Very, sir. She’s a wonderful wife. I wish every man to marry as felicitously as I have. We’re very well suited, and she is the sunshine in my life.”

  “You are a lucky man, then.”

  “I am indeed,” Cuthbert said as he pulled his clean shirt over his head.

  When they were presentable, they left the premises and made their way to Basil’s club.

  Seated at a table, they each ordered a glass of port. Before they could engage in much conversation, another man arrived at their table. “Good afternoon, Staunton.” He turned red as he realized his mistake. “Oh, sorry, I meant Darnley. It’s a bit hard to get used to you with that name.” The man laughed then turned to Cuthbert. “I attended Eton with Darnley here and his older brother. I’m afraid we all assumed old Roger would inherit the title, and even now, it’s hard to remember Staunton here got it in the end.”

  Basil wanted nothing more than for Cecil Longthorne, his old nemesis, to go his own way and leave them alone, but the man pulled out a chair and sat. “How about a round on me?” He raised his hand to indicate to the waiter to bring additional drinks.

  At least he’s going to make himself useful if he’s going to interrupt my conversation with Cuthbert.

  “How is the transition into the dukedom progressing?” Longthorne asked.

  “Passably well, thank you,” Basil said.

  “Remember, my father is interested in your country estate if things become too much for you. I’m not sure how much the prior duke allowed you to learn as your brother was the heir. I imagine you may run into difficulties.”

  “I say, Longthorne—is that what you said your name is—aren’t you overstepping here?” Cuthbert asked. “I believe His Grace, The Duke of Darnley, to be too much of a gentleman to call you out for your impertinence, but you are not behaving in a proper manner at all.”

  Basil held his hand up. “Quite all right, Cuthbert. Old Longthorne here and I have a long history, and I’m sure he doesn’t mean anything by what he has said. He’s merely a schoolboy still.”

  Longthorne raised his fist as if to strike Basil, but it came into contact with the tray that held the fresh drinks the servant had just brought to the table. The three glasses clattered to the floor, spilling the contents all over the Aubusson rug.

  Ignoring the spillage, Longthorne said, “I am not a schoolboy, and I wager your father never taught you one thing about running an estate.”

  “It’s not your concern, and I think it’s time for you to be on your way. Cuthbert here and I have things to discuss that would merely bore you. So it’s best that you make yourself scarce.”

  “Oh, I will be glad to do so.” Longthorne hesitated, then added, “For now.” He stood as if to leave, but before he turned away, he placed his hand on the back of his chair and leaned in close to Basil’s face. “I understand your sisters are of marriageable age and are coming out this year.”

  The man spun on his heel, almost tripping over the waiter who was cleaning up the glassware, and strode across the room to another table.

  “I think that was a threat of some sort, Darnley. Is he correct? You have sisters he could pursue?”

  “I do. They are sixteen and are set to be presented to the queen this season. If I can find someone to act as sponsor, that is. I’ve got a dilemma, you see. My mother being deceased, I need to locate a suitable lady to act as their sponsor. I have an aunt who ranks as the daughter of a duke, but she’s not a very kind lady, and my sisters are terrified of her.”

  “I might be able to solve one of your problems, but I cannot solve the other. At least not yet or without some deep thinking.”

  “What can you resolve? Calling out Longthorne so he can’t pursue my sisters?” Basil took a sip of the new drink the manservant had delivered.

  “No, not that, but I happen to know a daughter of a duke—the Duke of Huntington. Would she do?”

  “I haven’t had the pleasure of meeting the duke or his daughter, but since she is of equal rank with my sisters, I would be honored if you would ask her to act as sponsor. Do you think she will agree?”

  “I am sure I could persuade her if she didn’t, but since she’s always up for an adventure, I think she would agree readily.”

  “How soon can you make contact with her? The time is coming quickly upon us, and I would like to have the matter settled.”

  “Remember I told you I had to meet my wife for the evening meal at her father’s home?”

  “Oh, yes, I do. I’m sorry to delay you.” Basil looked at his timepiece. “Could we set another boxing engagement, and maybe in the time between, you could speak to the lady and bring me an answer?”

  “You misunderstand me. The lady in question is my wife. Mrs. Myles Cuthbert is the daughter of the Duke of Huntington.”

  “Splendid, splendid. You did have me guessing, Cuthbert. What a lucky meeting today.”

  “I’m also glad to make your acquaintance.” Cuthbert stood. “But I really need to make haste. It wouldn’t do to make Augusta angry at me now, would it?”

  “No, indeed, sir.” Basil stood as well. The two men shook hands, and Cuthbert left.

  Basil signed the chit for the club and viewed Longthorne from across the room. Now that I might have one problem solved—the sponsor for the twins—another one has arisen. Will Longthorne really try to pursue—or worse, dishonor—one of my sisters? It will not be borne. Basil would not allow him to make fools of them, nor would he be allowed to court one of them. Of that Basil was adamant.

  Chapter 8

  Amelia fell into a routine of visiting the duke’s home in the mornings and leaving the girls with certain tasks to perform in the afternoon. Susan, of course, accompanied her each time, but they only saw the duke on occasion and from a distance. It seemed to Amelia as if he were deliberately avoiding them. She didn’t blame him at all. If I could live my life away from Susan, I would do so in an instant.

  Amelia did sometimes notice the duke peeking in at them when his sisters were practicing with their trains, as if intrigued by the process. They walked around the ballroom frontward and backward for what seemed like hours. Susan even deigned to join in herself on occasion.

  They practiced the curtsy over and over as well, with Saffron and Jonquil practicing the queen�
��s kiss on their brow and Susan practicing kissing the queen’s hand. Amelia played the part of the queen and made sure they all knew their parts, as the sisters differed slightly from Susan’s since they were daughters of a duke.

  On the day Amelia planned to add the feathers to their practice sessions, there was a visitor when Amelia and Susan arrived at the front door.

  The woman was tall and dark-haired and reminded Amelia of some of the statues she’d seen at the British Museum. She appears very stately, but cold. And as some people might say, the first bloom of youth is off her cheeks.

  Amelia pushed the uncharitable thought away. She herself, though only nineteen years old, would likely end up a spinster with no dowry and no title. I might be young right now, but one day I shall be pitied by some younger lady. When that day comes, it won’t be pleasant.

  “Come in, Miss Amelia. This is Miss Vonda Van Eizenga. She’s here to see Basil.” Saffron stood in the hallway behind the butler as he let Amelia and Susan inside.

  The older woman inclined her head and, with something Amelia presumed was a smile but was more like a grimace, said, “How do you do?”

  Susan stepped in front of Amelia and introduced herself. “You’re here to see the duke?”

  “I am indeed. We’re old friends and neighbors. My family’s estate abuts the duke’s country seat.” The lady’s face continued to hold an expression of distaste. “And what brings you here?”

  “My cousin is assisting the duke’s sisters in their coming out.”

  “And that necessitates your presence how?” Vonda asked Susan.

  “I hardly think my relationship with the duke is any of your concern,” Susan said.

  “You have no relationship with my brother, Miss Mandeville,” Saffron practically spat the words. “Why pretend something that isn’t?” She showed the ladies to the parlor. “We’ll leave the two of you here to wait for Basil while we go up and practice with the feathers that I see Miss Amelia has in her hands.”

  “You may have to wait a long time, so I’ll send in some tea,” Jonquil said.

  “Why would I have to wait? Isn’t your brother at home?” Vonda asked.

  “He’s gone for the morning, I believe,” Saffron said.

  “Where?” Vonda demanded.

  “I’m afraid I don’t know, for you see, I’m merely his sister. I do not presume to ask a duke of the realm what his plans for the day are. Had I been his betrothed, I would still not overstep my bounds with such impertinence. It seems to me that only a wife to such a man should be entitled to explanations from him.” Saffron crossed her arms and glowered at Vonda.

  Both Susan and Vonda stared at Saffron as if she were some kind of exotic creature they’d never seen. In fact, Amelia was startled herself at the vehemence in the girl’s voice. It seemed she didn’t care for either of the ladies who were vying for her brother’s attention.

  Even though Amelia herself found the duke alarmingly attractive and well turned out, she knew there was no reason to let in even a little bit of hope that he would find himself enamored of her. She was outside the realm of his notice, and she was more than aware of that fact. Grateful that she recognized this and, therefore, didn’t need to worry about how Saffron or Jonquil would react to any interest she might show in the man, Amelia couldn’t help but allow herself a small smile at the expressions on the other two women’s faces.

  “I am sure you won’t mind if I wait for him anyway,” Vonda said as she took a seat on the settee by the fireplace.

  “No, I don’t. Jonquil will send in some refreshment, but I’m afraid we cannot invite you to share the noon meal if you’re still on the premises at that time.” Saffron turned to Amelia. “I think it’s time to get started, don’t you?”

  Amelia held her hand out. “Yes. We need to get to work.”

  Jonquil followed behind them, and they made their way up to the ballroom. Upon seeing the butler in the hallway, Jonquil asked him to take cakes and drinks to the ladies in the parlor.

  As they ascended the stairs to the ballroom, the twins excitedly discussed the feather each would place in her hair. They debated what kind of hairstyle would best be suited to the feathers on the night of their presentation with Jonquil insisting she would have some curls falling down across her neck since she wanted to call attention to how well she was doing with the posture lessons. “My neck is my best asset,” she said.

  Saffron laughed and said, “Don’t be silly. Men like bosoms, not necks, even if yours is as graceful as a swan’s.”

  “Is that true, Miss Amelia?” Jonquil asked as they walked into the ballroom.

  Amelia had no idea since she had no experience with young men, but she answered anyway. “I am positive your neck will be much admired.”

  Jonquil threw her sister a smirk, and Saffron said, “As soon as one pays homage to your nape, please tell me, as I shall certainly want to mark that man as a ninny.”

  “He won’t be a ninny. He will be someone who enjoys refinement.” Jonquil stomped toward where she’d left her practice train.

  “Let’s stop arguing over an imaginary man who loves necks, and practice, ladies,” Amelia said.

  As soon as the twins had their practice trains on and feathers attached to their hair, the three of them worked on their entries.

  Seated in a chair as if she were Queen Charlotte, Amelia sensed a presence behind her. She could feel the body heat.

  The voice at her ear startled her. “I’m hiding. Do you mind if I lurk up here?”

  Without turning around, she said, “I’m sure even if I did mind, it wouldn’t matter. Isn’t it your ballroom, sir?”

  “I suppose it is. No one could deny me the chance to be here, could they?” The duke came around the side of the chair where she sat. “Can you blame me for not wanting to be downstairs? First there’s your cousin and then Miss Van Eizenga. The two of them are enough to scare any man into fleeing to France. I’d rather take my chances with Old Boney than either of those two.”

  Stunned that the man who’d previously been nothing but serious every time she’d encountered him said something amusing, Amelia didn’t know how to respond to his comment. She didn’t have to though for his sisters picked that moment to turn around and notice him beside her.

  They walked sedately toward Amelia’s chair as if she were truly the queen. Saffron was the first to make it because she walked faster than Jonquil who had a lovely, much calmer pace.

  “I tried to get Miss Van Eizenga to leave, Basil, but she insisted on waiting for you. I said I had no idea where you were but knew that you’d be gone all morning. She’s still down in the parlor, though.” Lady Saffron made a face. “I wish I knew how to make her go away.”

  “She’ll get tired of waiting.”

  “I’m not too sure, Basil,” Jonquil said. “Now that Miss Mandeville—I mean Miss Susan Mandeville—is here and Miss Van Eizenga knows it, she won’t leave at all. Not that she will see Miss Mandeville as a threat, but she will stay. Just in case.”

  “What do you suggest then, my sweet sister? I can’t very well marry either one of them.”

  “Find another lady to pursue. Make your intentions known around town, and that will soon send them on their way,” Saffron offered.

  “I don’t think I’m inclined to marry yet, Saffron. I’m still adjusting to other changes in my life.”

  Amelia wasn’t comfortable being around such a discussion but didn’t know how to put an end to the conversation. After a few seconds, she had an inspiration. “Your Grace, would you consider acting as the queen?”

  “Excuse me?” He looked dumbfounded.

  “I’ve been working with your sisters on the walking in, curtsying, and the queen’s kiss. Since I’ve been playing the queen’s part, they haven’t had time to practice what happens o
nce they hand their cards to the Lord Chamberlain, when a gentleman-in-waiting spreads their trains behind them. Nor have they had a chance to have someone act as the lord-in-waiting who will gather their trains and drape them over their arms for the exit.”

  “Wouldn’t it be better for me to be the gentleman than the queen?” He raised his eyebrows as he asked the question.

  “Oh come on, Basil. There was a time you would have reveled in being the queen,” Saffron said with a laugh. “Why Miss Amelia, I could tell you a story—”

  “Those days are over.” The duke cut her off, and his tone of voice brooked no debate. He stood and moved to the side of the room. “Is this where I would start as the gentleman-in-waiting, Miss Mandeville?”

  “That is perfect, sir.”

  “Perhaps we should close and lock the door in case your cousin decides to join us as she sometimes does,” Jonquil said.

  “Go ahead then.” Basil nodded at his sister.

  A shadow seemed to pass over his brow. Amelia wondered if the duke could actually be intimidated by his guests.

  She shook off the unkind thought. Who am I to think such things of the man? I have no idea what goes on in his mind.

  Once the door was secured, they started the rehearsals again. They were only able to complete the entire presentation scene two times before someone knocked on the door.

  The Duke of Darnley surprised Amelia by holding up his index finger in a signal for his sister closest to the door to wait before opening it. While Saffron waited, the duke made his way across the vast room, behind the chair where Amelia sat, and disappeared behind a thick velvet curtain. Amelia was horrified. Is he a coward? If he is that afraid of mere women, exactly what kind of man is he?