An Unlikely Duchess (22 page)

Some hours later, the ladies left Madame Barousse’s with their smiles bigger and their allowances lighter. They had commissioned Madame to make several evening and ball gowns each, along with the accompanying slippers and wraps. Each girl had purchased an utterly exquisite gown for the end of Season ball, which was put on by the dowager every year. It was the social event of the Season. Everyone would be there and so it was imperative that the girls had something special.

They could not wait to see what Madame created, having seen samples of fabrics that she intended to use. The dresses themselves, she informed them, would be surprises. But having seen some of her gowns they knew they were in the hands of a genius.

They stopped off for ices to regain their strength and then headed straight back into the fray, coming away from each shop with new fans, bonnets, ribbons and decorations for their hair, gloves, slippers and plenty of other things they did not need. The dowager was a very persuasive shopping companion and had, in fact, purchased several items for the girls as gifts.

When they objected she clasped them both by the hand and said, “Please, girls. Allow me to do this. I never had a daughter that I could share these things with.”

The girls had thanked her and offered no more objections.

Finally, after hours of exhausting but thoroughly enjoyable shopping, the ladies were ready to return home. There ensued a complex few moments of arranging the various purchases in the carriage, with some of them having to be stored on the seats inside. The footmen managed it however and the ladies were just getting ready to embark when a shout sounded behind them.

“Ah, mother. I see you’ve been buying up Bond Street yet again.” Edward smiled indulgently and Rebecca felt her heart warm at the sight of him.

He peered into the carriage at the excess boxes.

“Good heavens! It seems your cohorts share your talent for shopping.”

“They do indeed,” answered the duchess enthusiastically. “We have enjoyed a very successful afternoon.”

“I hope there is something in there for the March’s dance this evening. It is your first event, is it not? You must make sure to draw attention.”

Rebecca watched Edward as he chatted and smiled, his demeanour friendly and easy-going. She rather liked this side of him, usually being only privy to the arrogant ‘duke’ side.

“Oh do not worry on that score my son,” the dowager answered, “The girls will have marriage-minded young men beating down the door by as early as tomorrow, I warrant.”

Her words fell like rocks into the jovial mood of the group. Rebecca had quite forgotten her assertion that she was here to find a husband, though her sponsor had clearly not.

Edward’s face went from smiling to thunderous in a second and he shot a dark look at Rebecca before pulling his features yet again, into his haughty ‘duke face’.

“But of course, eyes on the prize, eh ladies?” he asked sarcastically.

Rebecca felt her hackles rise but she bit back a retort and instead smiled sweetly at Edward.

“Did you not promise to escort us, your grace, so that you may help us to pick suitable husbands?”

Edward’s jaw clenched so tightly, she thought rigor mortis had set in. But he soon recovered his composure enough to bow slightly and answer, “Of course, my lady. I should be delighted.”

“If that is delighted, I dread to think what your unhappy face looks like,” she quipped.

The dowager burst out laughing. Caroline stepped on Rebecca’s toe.

“You’ve seen it, my lady, when we’ve been interrupted,” Edward answered scandalously, wanting to get one up in this verbal sparring, his smouldering eyes reminding her of the incidences he was talking about.

Her own eyes widened at his audacity. What on earth was he doing, saying such things to her in front of his mother and her sister? Had he run mad?

There was a pause in the conversation as Caroline and the dowager thought about what he’d said. Rebecca did not want to give them a chance to start speculating so she began shooing,
shooing
, the Dowager Duchess of Hartridge into her own carriage.

“Come now, your grace, we should be returning to ready ourselves for the dance tonight.”

The dowager looked a little shocked at being manhandled but allowed herself to be escorted into the carriage. Caroline shot daggers, again, at Rebecca before following the dowager.

Rebecca spun to face Edward, her eyes glinting with anger.

“How could you? Do you not realise they will start supposing things with your cryptic remarks?”

Edward merely grinned unrepentantly.

“What is there to suppose but that I have been happy in your presence Rebecca? And I have been happy. Very, very happy.”

To Edward’s great amusement, Rebecca swore quietly but profusely.

“Come now, do not upset yourself. I promise to behave like the perfect gentleman from now on.”

Rebecca should not have felt a pang of disappointment at his promise. But she did. And it obviously showed since Edward’s face broke into a wicked grin.

“In company of course.”

She should not smile, should not encourage him but he was incorrigible and she was more drawn to him by the day.

“Then I shall just have to make sure we are not alone together.”

“And I shall have to make sure we are.”

The air crackled between them.

“Are we to stand around all day then?” came the dowager’s voice from the carriage, “Lady Rebecca seemed in rather a rush to go.”

Rebecca’s face flamed as she apologised to the dowager and made to enter the carriage. Edward grabbed her hand and kissed it wantonly; Rebecca gasped as she felt sure his tongue had just darted out. But his face was expressionless as he rose up again and handed her into the carriage.

“Good day, ladies,” he said as he closed the door, “Until tonight.”

Though he spoke to the group, his eyes remained on Rebecca.

CHAPTER
EIGHTEEN

The door sounded downstairs and Rebecca knew it must be Edward come to escort them. She had completely forgotten to ask to speak to him earlier so that she might share her concerns, fears rather, about Mr. Simons. But perhaps there would be an opportunity tonight.

Maura had just put the finishing touches to her hair and was retrieving Rebecca’s wrap from the wardrobe.

“Now, my lady, let’s have a final look at you before you go down.”

She turned Rebecca toward the looking glass and sighed happily. “You really are a picture.”

Rebecca looked over herself with a critical eye, needing to make sure that she looked her best tonight. She did not want to let her father down now.

She had chosen a cream silk evening gown for tonight’s festivities. The square cut neckline was a trifle low, though not as low as some she’d seen. A row of tiny pearls had been sewn along the neckline. The cap sleeves were lined with the same pearls. Yet another row was sewn onto the empire line of satin ribbon before the dress fell in folds to her feet.

Cream satin slippers and white evening gloves completed the picture. At her neck and throat she wore the diamonds that her parents had gifted her for her sixteenth birthday and Maura had cleverly dotted diamonds throughout the curls piled on her head. An elegant cream fan and satin wrap were the finishing touches, handed to her now by Maura.

“You will cause an absolute sensation, Lady Rebecca,” exclaimed Maura happily.

“I just want to be sure to live up to my family name, Maura,” answered Rebecca a little nervously.

“Sure and why would not you? You will be the belle of the ball.”

“I hope so,” answered Rebecca quietly, looking once more at her reflection. Her cheeks were flushed from excitement and nerves and her eyes glistened with anticipation. It was now or never. Rebecca gave Maura a quick hug and swept from the room.

Edward stood in the hallway and awaited the arrival of the ladies of the house. His mother was not exactly renowned for her punctuality. Lady Caroline, however, seemed far too well mannered to keep a gentleman waiting and indeed within moments of his arrival, the lady began to descend the stairs.

She really
is
very beautiful,
Edward thought. Strange how her beauty failed to move him.

“Lady Caroline,” Edward bowed to her as she reached the foot of the stairs, “may I say how beautiful you look tonight?”

Lady Caroline smiled graciously and thanked him. She wore a gown tonight the colour of the sky in spring and it suited her very well. It made her eyes seem bluer and her hair brighter. Her jewels were sapphires and she looked so well put together Edward knew that she’d be fighting them off in droves.

He wondered if he should enlist Tom’s help in keeping the wolves at bay.

His mother arrived on the heels of Lady Caroline looking resplendent in deep purple velvet. She was still a woman of beauty and Edward was pleased to see how happy she looked. It did her good having the Carrington girls stay with her. He felt a little guilty that he did not visit more often.

He’d purchased his own townhouse a few years ago after it became apparent that his mother was trying to marry him off. He’d grown tired of bevvies of debutantes laying siege on his house and had judged it best and safer, really, to remove himself to another equally beautiful but mercifully debutante free household.

His mother was far from lonely, being one of the leading ladies of the
ton
. But to see her excitement now made him resolve to spend more time with her. And he really should think about providing her with those grandchildren she so desperately yearned for.

It seemed an odd sort of coincidence that Lady Rebecca should choose the moment he thought of grandchildren to make her entrance. His heart stopped. Simply stopped dead in his chest. This woman would be the death of him.

He watched her descent with eyes wide and jaw open. She looked like Aphrodite, Goddess of Love and destroyer of the souls of men everywhere.

The cream silk of her dress caressed her body lovingly before falling in folds to the floor, hiding what he knew to be utterly gorgeous legs. He swallowed convulsively as she came to stand in front of him and bent into a curtsy.

Still he remained unmoved.

“Edward,” his mother’s voice sounded more than a little amused, “bow to the lady. And close your mouth.”

Edward snapped to attention at his mother’s voice.

“Lady Rebecca,” he said though it sounded embarrassingly like a squeak, “you look –”

There was a pause as he tried to form a coherent sentence.

“I believe what my son is trying to say is that he approves, my dear,” the dowager seemed to be thoroughly enjoying herself.

Rebecca smiled, secretly delighted to have caused such a reaction in him. She was honest enough to admit that was precisely what she had wanted.

“Shall we, your grace?” she asked with a confidence borne of knowing she had caused such a reaction.

Edward, still unable to speak, merely nodded before standing back and allowing the ladies to precede him to the ducal carriage. It was going to be a long night.

****

The ballroom of the March’s townhouse was bedecked with sweeping folds of white material, hundreds of candles and vase upon vase of white flowers. It was also filled to bursting and Rebecca found it enchanting.

As they waited in the receiving line to meet their hosts, Rebecca was aware of looks of curiosity from the ladies and frank appreciation from the men present. Edward’s hand on her lower back guided her through the crowd and Rebecca felt that she was being branded by it.

What would it be like,
she wondered,
to be his wife?
To have him look after her like this all the time?
She quickly quashed the thought before it could fully form. She’d been through this hundreds of times. It was not going to happen.

Several people approached them for introductions and soon Rebecca’s head spun with names, titles and connections. The ladies, for the most part, seemed pleasant enough though there were some discernible scowls from those who noticed Edward’s protectiveness over his charges. The gentlemen were polite but rather forward and Rebecca found she had to bite her tongue on more than one occasion when a remark or impudent look set her teeth on edge.

Rebecca obviously wasn’t the only one to notice. It seemed that for every lascivious glance, Edward took a step closer, usually accompanied by a none-too-subtle swear word.

And so it was that by the time they reached their hosts, Edward was pressed so closely to Rebecca’s back that a fan would not have fit between them.

The dowager introduced them to their hosts, Lord and Lady Marsh, who were simply delighted to have the daughters of the Earl of Ranford at their event.

The dowager was very well pleased with the stir the girls were creating. “What a buzz surrounding you, girls. I am elated. Edward you must make sure to dance with both of the girls, secure their standing at once, not that they need any help in that department.”

With a wave of her fan, she made her way to the other matrons of the
ton
, sitting in a corner of the room, reigning over all who passed them.

The evening took off at a whirlwind pace. There were introductions, polite chats and so much dancing Rebecca’s feet ached!

Mr. Crawdon had arrived not long after their party and had immediately asked Rebecca to dance. She took great pleasure in the cotillion they danced together. Mr. Crawdon was an easy partner to dance with. He evoked none of the strange feelings in her that his cousin did and he was terribly amusing.

After he returned her to Edward, Rebecca fully expected the duke to ask her to dance but before they even got a chance to talk, another gentleman approached, then another, then another. Soon Rebecca’s card was completely filled… and Edward had not asked her to dance once.

Rebecca did her best not to look disappointed but she could not help but wonder why he did not ask her to dance. He had danced with Caroline while Rebecca had danced with Mr. Crawdon. She knew because Mr. Crawdon had kept his eyes trained on the couple for almost the entirety of the dance. Rebecca had refused to look.