Dusky Duke and the Gypsy Pirate Princess (3 page)

The two ladies followed him into the hallway where he retrieved his hat.

As he was biding them good-bye, Mrs. William’s face lit up, “Devonshire.” She explained in excitement. At the duke’s blank look, she explained, “The Reverend Thompson and his family live in Devonshire. What a coincidence that they live in one of your townships. Surely you have met him and his daughter before?”

Greyson’s eyes narrowed. He had indeed met Reverend Thompson and his daughter before, and she was not the one he was looking for. His eyes caught and held Miss Williams’s. He saw the truth in her eyes. This butter-wouldn’t-melt-in-her-mouth young lady of good standing had deliberately lied to him.

Greyson bowed once again and swung up into the saddle of his horse. As he rode away, he envisioned several unsavory things he wanted to do to Miss Williams, but first he needed a plan to get her to tell him the truth. He gnashed his teeth in frustration. He just needed a name. He tried to relax his hands on the reins. He analyzed his reaction to the news that his mystery lady was all, but married. He shook his head. At least that wasn’t true. He stiffened; that he knew of. He kicked his horse into a canter and headed for the park. A good run was what he needed to clear his head and focus his thoughts. He needed a plan of attack for Miss Williams.

Greyson’s focused thoughts were drawn from his problem to an outcropping of stones that thrust up from the surrounding park making an interesting contrast to the peaceful, flat ground around them. The rocks were a hodgepodge of tunnels and pathways between the bounders creating a beautiful place to explore. Greyson watched from a distance as several boys waving wooden swords scrambled up the rocks, shouting orders at each other as they went. He could clearly see the intent of the game as he relaxed and watched their antics.

Suddenly, Greyson’s body snapped to attention as a person in a light yellow day gown appeared between the rocks. His mystery lady was sneaking up on several of the boys from behind. Greyson kicked his horse into action. He had no doubts that the person he was watching was indeed his missing angel.

As his horse cantered nearer, Greyson saw a small bundle of blue perched on the rocks about her head launch itself at his mystery lady. They both went down. Greyson watched as the pair, tumbled in a heap of flying petticoats, rolled to the bottom of the slight hill, landing several yards from his horse’s feet. Greyson dismounted and dashed to the bundle of tangled limbs, relieved to find them both giggling in delight at the activity that had his heart in his throat.

Greyson watched as his angel untangled a youngster of three or four from her skirts and sat up.

“Maggie, are you trying to kill us?” the honeyed voice Greyson remembered questioned with a light laugh.

“I done captured you,” the little girl’s voice giggled back.

His angel noticed him standing over them and squinted at him. He realized he was standing his back to the direct sunlight. He doubted she could see more than his shadow. She reached a hand up for him to pull her to her feet. Greyson smiled and gladly linked hands with her.

“True,” she started, and then stopped in surprise. She jerked her hand from his before she was steady on her feet and almost toppled over backwards again. Greyson grabbed her forearms and pulled her back upright, and into his arms.

“Grey,” she squawked. “What are you doing here?”

Greyson chuckled. She remembered his name, an excellent step in the right direction. He thought about telling her he had been hunting the city for her, but decided that would be a bit much. He shrugged instead.

She wiggled out of his embrace. “How did you find me?” she answered, her tone filled with suspicion.

Greyson waved at the park around them, “What makes you think I was looking for you?” he tried for his best nonchalant voice.

She opened her mouth to reply when a five or six year old girl trotted down the hill drugging a toddler by the arm. “Honest, Honest,” the little girl in pink announced, “True is going to kill Just, and Val says death to all traitors, and you got to stop them.” She finished just as loud angry voices echoed through the bounders.

“Oh, no.” and before he could stop her she had bounded up the slope and disappeared into the rocks. Greyson blinked and cursed. Why did she keep doing that?

Greyson felt a tug on his pants and looked down into the blonde-headed, five-year-old face. Her blue eyes looked at him with a disapproving glare. “You can’t talk like that around us ladies, you know.”

Greyson realized the child was talking about herself and the younger three year-old. “I’m sorry, I apologize for the slip, my lady.”

The small child nodded; accepting his repentance. Greyson gaze was drawn back to the rocks. How was he going to find out her name?

He felt another tug. “My name is Abby Williams, and this is my little sister Maggie. I’m five and she is three and this is our little brother, Blue. He is one. And we are Gypsy Pirate Princesses, ‘cepting him of course, cause he’s a boy.”

Greyson stooped down until he was eye level with the girl who was talking. Abby Williams – she said her name was Abby Williams. Greyson noted the similar coloring between this child and Miss Prudence Williams. The same blonde hair and same blue eyes. The sound of the feet in the hallway. The children’s voices.

“And the Lady Pirate Princess, what is her name?”

The children turned and looked in the direction he was pointing. “Honesty Williams.” Both girls nodded their heads as if imparting a great revelation. Greyson’s smile lit up his face. He thought about hugging these two little girls until they squealed.

The five-year-old Abby continued, “She is our big sister, and she taking care of us while Pretty tries to catch a beau, cause daddy says we ain’t coming back to town again til I is old enough to go through all this hoopla. He says the boys can come themselves, no one worries about their reput . . ations, or nothing.”

“We are going home next week, and daddy says that he misses us like fire in his letter,” added the younger one.

“But mama says, Pretty not doing so good cause she is shy, and True thinks she likes Lord Byron, but he ain’t ask.” Both the girls nodded their heads importantly again.

Greyson chuckled. He should talk to little girls more often; they were just founts of information. The toddler popped his thumb in his mouth and sucked noisily.

“You are going home to where?” the girls looked at him blankly. “Where do you live?” he rephrased his question.

Abby flapped her arms up and down and explained patiently as she could, “At our house.”

“We got a home here too,” Maggie added.

“But we are going home to our other house soon,” added Abby. “I want ta go home, but Just and Val say they don’t cause they didn’t get to go to Buckingham Palace or drive the phaetons through the park like the young bucks and Pretty told them they can do that when they come back.”

Greyson noticed the voices had quieted in the rocks and he could see a hired coach moving toward them. He knew he was out of time.

He stood up as Honesty Williams followed by four boys and one more girl walked toward him. Greyson knew he should feel guilty for what he was about to do . . . but all was fair in love and war. He met the group head on. Many of them carried wooden pirate swords.

Greyson smiled, and extended an invitation to her. “I would like very much to invite you to visit the Buckingham Palace gardens with me tomorrow. We could meet here, then travel together to the gardens and have a picnic.”

“I can’t possibly,” Honesty interrupted, “I am responsible for watching the children.

Greyson bowed his head to hide his quick smile, “If you accept, then of course all of your siblings are more than welcome to come too.” He watched in delight as the older boys head popped up at his extension of the invitation to include them. “I hear the maze at the gardens is extraordinary this year, and not to be missed if one has the chance to see it.” Greyson watched the silent signals being passed between the siblings. He recognized the signs that the eldest was winning and was about to turn him down. “I thought I would drive my pair tomorrow. The boys might like a turn at handling the reins.” Greyson managed to stifle his glee as the battle quickly turned in his favor.

Honesty nodded her acceptance of his offer, as the troop shouted their happiness. The hired coach stopped next to them. Greyson spent the next several minutes helping the Williams load into the coach.

He smiled into her eyes as he handed Maggie up to her. “I look forward to seeing you again tomorrow about noon if that is agreeable? Have a nice day, Miss Williams.” She gasped at him in surprise and then glared at her younger siblings before the coach rolled away from him.

Greyson grabbed the reins of his horse and mounted up. Honesty . . . her name was Honesty Williams. Greyson laughed and turned his horse toward his grandmother’s home.

♣♣♣

When Greyson arrived at the house, he found his grandmother holding court in the formal parlor. She was surrounded by his great aunts, aunts, sisters, and almost every adult female relative he owned. As he walked into the room, his grandmother looked at him, her eyebrow raised inquiringly. Greyson gave a half nod to indicate his success. The others in the room continued throwing out names which were then discussed and added to a list or discarded. Greyson ignored the topic of conversation and focused on the finger sandwiches on the sideboard.

“What about Sarah Goodman?” suggested one of his sisters.

“Oh, she would be a perfect one to add,” approved his other sister.

Their grandmother had risen from her chair and moved to Greyson’s side. He nodded at her; his eyes dancing as he bit into a cucumber sandwich.

“I take it your morning went well?”

Greyson could see that she was dying of curiosity.

“Diane Bunker,” suggested one of his aunts.

Several of his relatives shook their heads, “She is all right, but her mother . . .” the group groaned in unison.

“What are they doing?” asked Greyson in a stage whisper behind his hand.

His grandmother loudly whispered back, “Picking the guests for the group to move to Devonshire for the next month.”

“We are doing an extension season? Why?” Greyson hated when his house was invaded by eligibles for a month at the end of some seasons. “What is the occasion this year?”

“Your cousin, Victoria, is at the end of her first season and her father is concerned with the caliber of the men she is attracting.”

Greyson nodded his head in consideration of these new options. He knew he would not be able to sway Honesty’s opinion in the few days they had left. His only options were to follow her home or – the corner of his mouth tilted up slightly – have her follow him home.

Greyson cleared his throat. All the ladies in the room looked at him. “I would highly suggest Prudence Williams and her family.” He watched as his sisters and aunts looked at each other in puzzlement and curiosity.

“Well, . . . Yes. . .” said his sister Teresa slowly, “We could certainly do that. .. if you want?”

Greyson pushed away from the sideboard he had been leaning on. “Yes, I would like that greatly,” he walked toward the door. “With Prudence and her mother and her older sister, that should raise your count three more at the table. Oh, and be sure and invite Lord Byron while you are at it. I owe him a favor.” With his face serious, he stepped out of the door and closed it behind him before laughing at their stunned expressions. He could just imagine the conversation that he had walked out on. He knew his secret was safe with his grandmother. They wouldn’t get anything out of her. Not that she knew that much. They would discuss the topic to death.

♣♣♣

Greyson paced before the rocks in the park. It was more than an hour past noon and there was no sign of the Williams. Had he been stood up by all, his counted on his fingers, nine of them? Had Honesty changed their minds? She should have sent a note to that effect. Greyson laughed at his own stupidity. Where would she have sent this supposed note? The park. He may know her last name, but she had no idea of his. She may still not know he was a duke. Well, that won’t last long when her sister showed up. What would Honesty do when she found out?

He shoved his worries to the back of his mind as the hired coach appeared around the bend. His heart beat faster as the coach drew nearer.  They had come.

Greyson stood at the head of his phaeton as the coach rumbled closer. The two boys on top with the driver yelled a greeting as the coach rolled to a stop next to his. Then bodies seemed to tumble out of every portal, and soon eight grinning children and one frowning guardian stood before him.

She raked her hair through her hair. “I am so sorry we are late.” She looked a bit hassled.

Greyson realized that the task of arriving on time with eight children, even when several of them were older, would be a daunting goal.

She continued. “We have not properly introduced ourselves. . . .”

The older boys began. One started followed by the next. “Truth” “Justice” “Valor” “Courage“

And then the girls started, “Victoria,” “Majesty” “Ability” “and the Baby is named Marine,” added Abby.

“But we call him Blue,” added Maggie. And then the two younger girls nodded as what they said was of the uttermost importance.

Greyson’s eyebrow went up as he silently added Honesty and Prudence, quite a collection of virtues.

Greyson bowed to the crowd, “And you may call me, Grey.” He knew that as soon as they found out his true station, they would not be allowed to call him by his given name must less his nickname, but for now. He smiled at the Williams. “If you are agreeable, I thought the two older boys and the two younger girls might ride with me to the gardens, and then the next younger two boys and this young lady,” Grey indicated Victoria, “can ride back with me.” The group erupted with everyone talking. To Grey’s amazement, Honesty with one simple word bought them to order, and with one more simple order, they all scrambled to find places in the two coaches just as he had suggested.

Grey climbed onto the driver’s seat, and smiled down at Abby, who was snuggled up to his side. Her blue eyes sparkled with excitement.

“True?” The oldest boy sat forward in anticipation. “And Just, right?” the other boy nodded. “Just, you hold onto your little sisters while True takes a turn at the reins.” The boy nodded vigorously and wrapped his arms around Abby and Maggie on Grey’s left. True sat on his right. Grey wrapped his arm around the young man’s shoulders and positioned the reins in his hands.