An Unlikely Duchess (21 page)

Caroline turned back to continue scanning the missive.

“Oh, Charles is to return home,” she exclaimed. “Mama says she received a letter to say he was making the journey. He may even have arrived already.”

“I am sure your mother will be very pleased to have him back,” said the dowager kindly, “Your father too I warrant. Well. This is excellent news and I believe we all feel much the better for it. Usually I would suggest going out to the theatre or opera to celebrate but I believe we are all fatigued from our journey. I think perhaps a quiet evening at home tonight, and tomorrow we can begin our socialising.”

The sisters nodded in compliance, neither really wanting to do more than write to Mama, eat and then catch up on some much needed sleep.

“Edward, you will dine with us tonight won’t you?” asked the dowager.

He glanced at Rebecca before answering.

“Of course, Mother. I should be delighted.”

“Excellent. You may fetch Tom from his home too and bring him along. I am sure he would be glad of it and is anxious to hear news of the earl too. He was most attentive to the ladies during the crisis, was he not girls?”

“Oh yes, he was wonderful,” Rebecca enthused. Caroline merely smiled but stayed silent.

“Well, I shall leave you ladies to letter writing and unpacking and so forth. I shall return later. Good day Lady Caroline, Mother. Good day Lady Rebecca.” He bowed over each of their hands in turn and Rebecca’s blood heated when he lingered over hers only a little longer than necessary.

His thumb circled her hand and she felt his lips sear her skin wickedly before he released her and took his leave.

The man was going to cause her to perish on the spot one of these days.

“Well, I shall look forward to having you all with me tonight,” the dowager said, her eyes twinkling, “What an interesting few months we shall have. If you will excuse me ladies, I shall speak to Cook directly about our dinner plans. Please feel free to explore the house and grounds and of course, write to your Mother. I want you to treat this house as your home.” She smiled kindly and swept from the room.

“I do hope she is right, Rebecca. I do so hope we have a wonderful time.”

Rebecca smiled at Caroline and linked her arm as they strolled from the room.

“Oh, I am sure we shall.”

****

Edward tracked Tom down at White’s having first called to his house.

“Drowning your sorrows, Tom?” he quipped as he took a seat next to him and signalled for an extra glass.

“Something like that,” answered Tom, not his usual jovial self.

“Ah, travelling with only ladies for company has taken its toll, has it?” Edward asked slapping him on the back. “Well, prepare for more of their company. We’ve been summoned to dine with Mother tonight.”

Tom heaved a sigh before answering in the same light vein Edward used, “I do so like to eat other people’s food. And besides, it is not as if the view will not be ravishing across the dining table,” he answered with a wink.

“No, it will not be much of a hardship, will it?” answered Edward frowning slightly, wishing to make sure Tom was speaking only of Lady Caroline but unable to say anything for fear of being sent to Bedlam. He knew that any man with eyes in his head and blood in his veins would know what a beauty Rebecca was, but that did not mean he had to like it. When she had bitten that blasted lip… but no, he could not think of that now or things would become very embarrassing very quickly.

“Lady Caroline received a letter to say that the earl is making excellent progress so the mood too should be jolly enough.”

Tom’s face lit up. “Wonderful news. They must be ecstatic.”

“They certainly seemed to be. Their brother is to return home to the family seat apparently.”

“I know that is what they’d hoped for.”

“I do not think I’ve met the young viscount,” continued Edward conversationally. “Do you know ought about him?”

Tom thought for a moment. “Not much,” he answered, “He is finishing up this year in Oxford before learning the ropes of the estates as far as I know. Something of a rake, but not debauched. Not unlike you really.”

“Or you.”

“Ah yes, but he is titled, wealthy and suitable. There will be nothing standing in his way.”

This sounded rather bitter for Tom, and Edward was taken aback. Tom usually did not have a bitter bone in his body. He was always cheerful, always the charming joker. He was renowned for it. That and his prowess with women.

“You cannot tell me anything’s ever gotten in your way, Tom,” answered Edward, “Besides, nobody could accuse you of being poor.”

“But my money has the whiff of trade behind it, don’t you know,” Tom answered sarcastically.

Edward frowned as he looked at Tom’s downcast expression. This really was most unusual.

“Tom,” he began cautiously, “is there something troubling you?”

The question seemed to rouse Tom from whatever morose state he’d been in. He stared intently at Edward for a few moments, so much so that Edward began to grow a little paranoid.

“Let me ask you something,” he suddenly spoke, slurring slightly. He was more in his cups than Edward had first thought.

“Yes?”

“Have you ever wanted something so badly you would do anything,
anything
to have just a taste of it? Even just for a brief, wonderful moment? You’d swim an ocean, cross a desert, walk to the ends of the earth!” Tom was starting to get louder and more dramatic as his speech went on, drawing some laughs and raised glasses from the surrounding men.

Then he quieted down again and looked so bleak that Edward became rather alarmed.

“But,” he spoke so softly now that Edward had to lean in to hear, “no matter how much you want it, how much you would do for it… it can never be yours?”

The words made Edward’s heart stop. Yes he had wanted something that badly. Still wanted it that badly. Rebecca.

He was suddenly overwhelmed with the same sort of melancholy that seemed to afflict his cousin.

“Yes,” he answered sadly, rather dramatically himself, “yes, I have. And it is hell on earth.”

Both men were so wrapped up in their own problems, they each failed to ask the other what exactly was bothering him.

It was only later, as they shared a carriage to the Dowager Townhouse, somewhat more sober, Tom turned to Edward and asked, “So, who is she?”

Edward started. He’d been thinking, not necessarily purely, about Lady Rebecca and Tom’s sudden question unnerved him.

“Who?” he asked defensively.

Tom smirked.

“The lady who has created this hell on earth.”

Edward regarded him cautiously. “What makes you think it is a woman?”

Tom barked out a harsh laugh. “Isn’t it always?”

Edward chuckled. “Yes, I suppose it is.”

“So, are you going to tell the gory details?”

“Are you?” Edward shot back.

Tom smiled. “Touché cousin.”

They made the rest of the journey in contemplative silence.

CHAPTER
SEVENTEEN

The next day dawned bright and clear and Rebecca leapt from bed, a sense of excitement bubbling in her stomach.

Last night, they’d enjoyed a quiet but excellent dinner with Hartridge and Mr. Crawdon. Though Rebecca had been a bundle of nervous anticipation, she’d actually thoroughly enjoyed the night. The food had been delicious, the wine delightful. And though she had been sure she would feel uncomfortable in the duke’s presence, he had been a witty and entertaining visitor. Between them both, Edward and Mr. Crawdon had managed to keep them entertained with funny anecdotes about each other’s past escapades.

The strong relationship between them was evident in their banter and Rebecca had been relaxed for the whole evening. The only time she’d had a wobble was when the duke had been taking his leave and had once again kissed the back of her hand. The now familiar longing had shot through her and she’d felt the urge to stroke his raven hair between her fingers as he’d bent over her hand.

Still, she hadn’t, thank goodness, and now she knew she could spend some time in his presence with equanimity.

Maura bustled into the room with Rebecca’s morning chocolate and started pulling garments from the drawers and wardrobe.

“What would you like to wear today, my lady?” Maura was in fine spirits, filled with excitement at being in the city at last.

“I do not know what the dowager has planned, I believe she mentioned something about shopping so perhaps one of my new afternoon dresses.”

“How about the pale lemon muslin, my lady?” Maura asked, pulling the beautiful dress from the wardrobe.

The colour showed off Rebecca’s dark colouring to perfection and it was ideal for a clear spring day. Rebecca nodded her approval and looked forward to wearing the new gown.

It wasn’t long before Maura once again worked wonders with Rebecca’s hair, gathering most of it at the back of her head and leaving a few curling tendrils to frame her face. The style was simple but extremely flattering and Rebecca felt more than ready to take on her first day of the Season.

As they broke their fast, the dowager confirmed her plans to take the girls shopping and so it was agreed that they would leave at two o’clock and go directly to her grace’s favourite mantua maker. The girls had bought no more than one or two evening gowns in Dublin after the duchess’ insistence that they wait to meet Madame Elodie Barousse.

Madame Barousse was famous throughout England for her talent in dressing ladies of the
ton
. She was difficult to secure an appointment with and even more difficult to convince to actually make gowns for the ladies who came to see her. But Madame had long since been patronised by the Duchess of Hartridge so the dowager was confident that the girls would be well attended to.

“She will, I am sure, be delighted to dress two such beautiful girls,” the dowager told them excitedly as they approached Madame’s shop later that day. “Dressmakers always want to show off their clothes on a beautiful face and form.”

Rebecca and Caroline waited with some trepidation for the footman to lower the steps so they could alight from the carriage. Maura had told them the servants’ gossip about the famous Madame. Apparently only last week the daughter of the Duke of Bandon had been seen running out in tears as the volatile dressmaker had hurled insults at her.

Caroline had then spent a goodly part of the morning begging Rebecca to be quiet, calm, not rise to any bait and conduct herself with quietness and decorum. “In short,” finished Caroline after a lengthy sermon, “just do not be yourself.” Lovely.

Rebecca was the first to exit the carriage and stood taking in the sights and sounds of the busy shopping street while she waited for the other ladies.

So much busier than Dublin, which she had thought to be bustling, London seemed fast paced and relentless.
So many carriages and people,
she thought. Her eyes scanned the crowd taking in the elegant ladies and handsome gentlemen. She froze suddenly as she spotted a man watching her from across the street. An icy dread filled her. No. It could not be he!

“Rebecca.”

Rebecca yelped as a hand touched her arm.

“Goodness, what is the matter? You look as if you’d seen a ghost.” Caroline, who had touched her to draw her attention, was frowning in concern.

Rebecca spared her a quick glance but then turned back. He was gone. She scanned the street both ways as far as possible but there was no trace. Perhaps she’d imagined it?

“Rebecca. Truly, what is wrong?”

“It is nothing, Caro. I thought I saw someone I knew that is all.”

Caroline seemed appeased and turned to enter the shop. Rebecca, however, was uneasy and felt a little ill. She could not speak to Caroline about what had frightened her so, since Caroline had no idea that the man had caused Rebecca any problems.

No, there was only one person, Edward, who knew and even then he was not aware of her last nasty meeting with that man.

For standing across the street watching her had been Mr. Simons.

But how and why was he here? Rebecca resolved to speak to Edward as soon as she could. He was the only person who could advise her on what was best to do. Besides, he made her feel safe and right now she felt anything but.

It could, of course, be an unhappy coincidence. But an Irish country farmer had no business in London during the Season. And he had been watching her so closely…

The sooner Rebecca could speak to Edward about this and figure it out, the better.

Entering the shop proved a welcome distraction. Indeed, Rebecca thought one could not help be distracted on entering this shop.

As soon as they were inside a young girl approached to welcome them. She recognized the dowager at once and immediately led them to comfortable seats then scurried off to fetch Madame.

The booming voice was heard before the person was seen. Barking orders like a military general it was deep and loud and definitely caused the girls to be nervous. They shared a look of alarm before the curtain parted and Madame Barousse stepped into the room.

Madame Elodie Barousse was certainly a sight to behold. As big as her voice had indicated, in both stature and height, she towered above the ladies who rose to greet her.

“My dear duchess. How wonderful to see you again,” Madame boomed in her thick accent. “Who have you brought to me today? Let me have a look.”

She reached out and grabbed each of the sisters in a vice-like grip, dragging them to stand in front of her while she squinted and inspected them closely.

After a few moments silence, and a couple of circles around their bodies, Madame clapped her hands together causing them to jump.

“Magnifiqué,”
she declared, “They will do my creations justice. I will dress them.”

Madame began watching them with the squinty expression again. Rebecca wondered if they were supposed to be doing something.

“Bien,”
she shouted, causing them to jump yet again, “I will start with the blonde. I have just the thing.”