Dusky Duke and the Gypsy Pirate Princess (5 page)

“Lord Byron?” Honesty was confused, “Lord Byron is here?” When had that happened?

Pretty laughed dreamily again. “Of course,” she giggled, “who did you think we were talking about?”

Honesty froze, before pulling the dress over her head. She tried to organize her scrambled thoughts. “You are excited because Lord Byron is here, and you are not interested in the duke at all.” She stated to clarify the issue with her sister.

Pretty actually shuddered. “Oh, I had almost forgotten about him,” she stated in despair. “What are we going to do? Mama will expect me to be nice to that man, and truthfully, Honest, he scares me.”

There it was from her sister’s own lips. “Why does he scare you?”

“I am so afraid I’m going to mess up, and dump tea in his lap, or step on his foot, or something really embarrassing. But with Lord Byron. . . he doesn’t care if I mess up at all.”

“Don’t worry, we will figure something out.”

Pretty smiled in relief and hurried to get dressed so she could go find the red-haired lord.

♣♣♣

Greyson leaned against the hall wall and waited. He knew she would check on the children before she came down to dinner. She had arrived just as he had predicted and now he waited for her to return to the entrance. He bent his head, he was nervous about the coming confrontation, but it couldn’t be put off.

He straightened as Honesty stepped from the nursery rooms into the hall. As soon as she saw him, she frowned and then spun on her heels and stomped down the corridor away from him.

His long legs made it easy for him to keep up with her. “Honesty,” he implored.

“No,” she practically shouted at him, “Go away.”

He continued to follow her, blocking her access to the stairs. She turned and stomped away from him with determination.

“You lied to me,.” she railed, her voice held the pain she felt.

“I didn’t lie exactly,” he blocked her entrance to a long corridor to the right. Honesty stomped down another hallway.

“You didn’t exactly tell the truth either.” She turned to the left and followed a long corridor and up a flight of stairs.

Greyson followed her. “I’m trying to explain. If you will just stop for a minute.”

“No, I am not interested in anything you have to say to me. You got my family here on false pretenses.” She turned around to face him. “You took advantage of my family. My little brothers and sisters. You. . . You. . .” she sputtered in anger.

Honesty spun around and started down another corridor. She stopped abruptly, when she realized that she had no idea where she was. They stood in the middle of a dimly lit corridor. Honesty realized that she had not seen another person since leaving the nursery. She looked up and down the hall in a panic. She stood in indecision as Grey advanced. Honesty backed up until her back was against the solid wood of the door facing.

Greyson placed his hands against the paneling on either side of her head. “Breathe,” he instructed, “I only want you to stand still long enough for us to talk.”

“I have no intention of talking to you.” Honesty almost spat in her fury.

Greyson tilted his head and waited.

“You took advantage of me and my brothers and sisters.”

“How so?” Greyson leaned closer, his breath soft on her ear.

Honesty planted her palm firmly in the center of his chest and pushed. He moved back several inches.

“If you were interested in courting my sister all you had to do was say so.” Honesty cut her eyes away from him.

Greyson’s chest rumbled against her hand. “If that were true, it would be easier, but as it is . . . it is a bit more difficult to tell you . . .  that I want to court her older sister.”

“What?” Honesty’s eyes jumped to his.

“And I have it on the best of authority that given a bit more time a certain red-haired lord will get up enough nerve to offer for a pretty blonde sister.”

Honesty’s expression wavered between shock, outrage and her stubbornly held anger. “You are not interested in Pretty?”

“No,” Greyson leaned closer again.

“But mama. . ..the duchess hinted that you would. . . that we came here because. . .” Honesty stumbled to a stop.

“I am only interested in one Gypsy Pirate Princess in particular.”

“But the duchess invited Prudence. . . .”

“And all the Williams siblings.” Greyson leaned closer, their breath mingled. Their faces were only inches apart.

“When mama figures out you are not interested in Pretty she will take us home,”

“Then I suggest we delay her for a minute, just until Lord Byron proposes. . . if you think, that is what your Pretty sister would want?” Honesty’s fingers curled in the material of his shirt.

“Yes,” the soft answer was breathless. Honesty bowed her head, “I’m still mad at you.”

Greyson leaned back, “I will think of some way to apologize.”

“Saying you are sorry is a good way to start.”

Greyson leaned forward again, “I am sorry you were hurt, but I am not sorry you came.” Their eyes met and held. Honesty heard a gong sound somewhere in the house.

Greyson shoved himself away from the wall. He smiled at her and offered her his arm. “Dinner is about to be served. We should go.”

“You did that deliberately. You herded me down these halls as if I were a cow. I should be mad at you for that.”

“Sorry, darling.” Greyson chuckled as he led the way down the stairs and hallways.

“Don’t call me that,” Honesty glared at him in warning.

“Add it to the things you are mad at me about.” He shrugged his shoulder as they suddenly emerged from the corridor into the main hall of the downstairs.

Within minutes, Honesty was seated at the long beautiful table in the formal dining room. The table could easily seat the sixty people present. Honesty found herself sitting next to the Duchess on one far end and Grey sat on the other.

Honesty ate her dinner in silence trying to assimilate all that had happened in the last several days. Mostly she focused on Grey’s behavior and his assurance that Lord Byron intended to ask for her sister’s hand. The situation was so complicated - Mama thought Grey was interested in Pretty, but Lord Byron and Pretty had a chance to be happy together. Honesty knew that Lord Byron was a much better match for her sister, and not just because Honesty had been wondering what kissing the duke would be like. When mama found out that Grey was not interested in Pretty, but her. . . . Honesty cringed.

She knew that her mother would think it was all her fault that Pretty didn’t end up a duchess. It had always been this way for as long as Honesty could remember. When something went wrong or someone liked Honesty a little bit more than her shy sister it was always Honesty’s fault. Honesty shifted, uncomfortable in her seat. She was too loud, too outspoken, too rude and unmannered, too selfish and pushy, a show off, an attention seeker. Honesty cringed again as the echo of her mother’s voice condemned her. She knew her mother was right, but how did it always end up her fault. How could she have stopped this and changed it? Honesty frowned; she could tell Grey that she wasn’t interested in him ‘courting her.’ She blinked sightlessly down at her potatoes. Oh, but she wanted him too. She remembered him leaning toward her in the hall. The tension in her chest; He made her feel like she had butterflies in her stomach. .. even when she was mad at him.

“Is something wrong, my dear?” Honesty was drawn out of her thoughts by Greyson’s grandmother’s words.

“Oh, noo.” Honesty shook her head and became aware of the conversation going on around her. The duchess was looking at her with intense interest. “I am sorry, I was thinking about something else.”

After a short silence, the older lady asked, “You have an unusual name and so, I hear tell, do all your brothers and sisters.”

“My father was a Captain in the English Navy. We are all named from the virtues of the Mariners Code of conduct.”

“Truthfully? That is rather unusual,” interjected a young dandy seated at Honesty’s right.

“Yes, has been suggested that my parents stop at ten children as the words left in the code at this point would limit the next child to being named service, code or conduct.

“Well,” added the young lady in red across the table from Honesty, “you could call him Cody.”

“Oh, please do not suggest that to my father, he might take your suggestion to heart.”

“How old are your siblings, dear?” questioned the Duchess.

I am twenty-four, Prudence is eighteen, Truth is fifteen, Justice is thirteen, Valor just turned twelve, and Courage is ten, Victoria is eight, and Ability five, Majesty three, and Marine is a little over one, Your Grace.”

“You weren’t joking about the names,” the young dandy laughed. Honesty had learned a long time ago not to take offense at what people said if none was intended. She just wished that was a lesson that Just could learn.

Honesty smiled at the young man and asked about his family. At the end of the meal, when Honesty asked the Duchess’ permission to leave the table, the older woman was smiling in a satisfied way that Honesty did not understand. The whole company moved to the game room. Honesty walked behind her mother and Prudence.

The duchess retired to her rooms for the night, her mind very much relieved, Honesty was all that Greyson had said she was and more. The duchess approved of his choice- not that it would change his mind one way or the other. SarahBeth Buckingham smiled; that girl had more spirit than even she realized, and she was smart, very smart. The older lady chuckled to herself; Greyson was in for some surprises.

Late the next afternoon, Greyson found Honesty in the nursery rocking Blue. “What are you doing here?” he asked in surprise.

“Taking care of Blue. He is cutting teeth and doesn’t feel good.”

“You know that we have people who will take care of him.”

Honesty bristled like an old mother bear at his comment, alerting him immediately that he had crossed an invisible line. “He does want somebody else – he wants me.”

“Sorry, I just thought we could go riding this afternoon, but I wouldn’t dream of taking you away from Blue, it wouldn’t bode well for my future.” The baby eyed Greyson with a frown around his thumbsucking, his head tucked firmly against Honesty’s breast. Greyson thought about suggesting to the youngster that they swap places for an hour or two.

“Well, what if we compromise and take Blue for a stroll around the lawn?” asked Honesty.

They strolled all the way to the cliffs and back. Greyson could tell that the weight of Blue was a stress on Honesty. But every time, he suggested maybe he should carry the boy, Blue glared daggers at him and whimpered pitifully. Honesty would clutch him to her and soothe him with kisses and hugs. The child would then give Greyson a look that said ‘we know who the master is.’ And then settle happily in his sister’s arms. Greyson could not believe he felt like he was competing with a baby.

Honesty was laughing at some childhood antics Greyson was recounting for her benefit when they reached the veranda. Greyson gripped her elbow to steady her while she maneuvered the stairs with a sleeping baby, when a young man lightly skipped down the stairs in their direction. The Earl of Suxess slapped the duke on his shoulder and greeted him like an old friend. Greyson returned his handshake before disengaging himself and Honesty.

By the time they were in the house, Honesty had smoke rolling out of her ears.

“I am surprised you recognized him,” Greyson commented as he led Honesty through the halls. “I wouldn’t have imagined that you had time to get a good look at his face before you flattened him last time.”

Honesty stopped and stared at him, her mouth slightly open, and then the anger returned. “If he so much as looks at my sister . . . .”

“You have my full permission to deck him again, but may I suggest that if he is even slightly out of line again, you allow me to send him packing.” He spread his hands. “I was not aware that he had been invited, and I cannot uninvite him without a valid reason,” Honesty opened her mouth. “I know, but you and your sister were not possibly at a masque unchaperoned, and no one saw the incident but myself, and two young ladies who shall remain nameless.”

Honesty sniffed and adjusted the sleeping child’s weight. Greyson reached gently forward and relieved her of the loose limbed baby. “By the way,” he added, “why were you at the masque unchaperoned?”

Honest looked over her shoulder to assure herself that they were alone. “Mama did not want to have to explain to everyone why one of her daughters attended the events and the other didn’t, so she decided it was best that no one knew I was in town.” That sounded kind of fishy to Greyson, but he didn’t comment.

“Pretty really wanted to go to the masque because she said she thought masked she would have the courage to dance with Lord Byron – finally – that is all I have heard about the whole season. But mama doesn’t approve of masque. She said when people hid themselves they feel at liberty to do things they wouldn’t do normally. I guess an example of that would be . . .” Honesty pointed back along the hall, “whatever his name is.”

“So the two of you snuck out and went to my aunt’s masque?”

“I just wanted to dance. I miss waltzing so much. One time Laura Snodgrass bet me that I couldn’t get every unmarried buck in the room to dance.” Honesty smiled in remembrance as they entered the nursery and Greyson laid the baby in his bed.

“And did you?” Greyson chuckled at her happiness.

A shadow crossed her face and the laughter was gone, “Yeah,” she said quietly as they nodded to Nanny Sinclair and snuck out. “But the best dancer I ever danced with was you,” Honesty added sincerely.

Greyson pulled her into his arms, and twirled her down the hall. “We will just have to make sure you have many more opportunities to dance with me.”

They danced down the hall until they reached the end. Greyson twirled them to a graceful finish, but did not release her. They stood; their arms still held in the dance position. She felt herself mesmerized by the emotion she saw in the duke’s eyes. Honesty giggled self-consciously as Greyson leaned closer. The expression on his face changed  and Honesty could see he intended to kiss her. She watched as he dipped his head closer; their breath mingled.

The large grandfather clock in the hall immediately behind them bonged the hour. The deafening sound broke the spell. Greyson stepped back and dropped her arms. “Dinner is in an hour. We must dress.”

Honesty nodded. Her cheeks flush from the encounter.

Greyson left her at the main hallway to the nursery wing.

♣♣♣

Greyson moved up behind Honesty as she stood in the bay window in the salon looking out over the front lawn. He looked around at the twenty or so others that stood talking, waiting for dinner to be called; her mother and sister were not here yet. Honesty was wearing a pretty, pastel pink dress with white lace. He had not seen her in this one before. She had not seen him yet so he took the time to observe her unawares. Her brow was puckered in concentration as she stood rather stiffly. She looked so upright. At his slight movement, her eyes jumped to his. A look of pain crossed her face before she flipped her fan open and waved it before her flushed face.

“What’s wrong?” Greyson demanded as he moved closer.

She just shook her head and turned her face back to the window. “It’s nothing, I will get used to it.” She struggled to pull in a swallow breathe.

And then he recognized the signs, the shallow breathing, the flushed face, and stiff posture. “Why do you have your laces tied so tight?” he muttered in her ear.

“A bit personal – don’t you think?”

“Not if I have to catch you when you faint- which by the look of you- will be soon.”

“I have never fainted.”

“Well, you are about to start.”

She shot him a look. “I could blame this on you.” She fanned harder.

Greyson smiled and whispered next to her ear, “Fanning is not breathing, darling.”

“Don’t call me that, someone will hear you.”

“Honesty, why are you wearing your corset so tight?”

“To get into the dress. You are the one who has insisted that I attend the dinner with the adults. I only have three gowns, and the blue one is the only one that fits. The rest were tailored when I came to London five years ago.” She breathed in shallow pants. “I have matured a bit since then.” Greyson growled under his breath, but she could not hear him over the ringing in her ears.

Greyson pulled her to a chair and then crossed the room as his sister stepped into the salon. A quick word between them and then Teresa escorted a protesting Honesty away.

His grandmother motioned him over and indicated that he should sit down. “What were you talking to the lovely Miss Williams about that she looked so stricken?

Greyson lifted his eyebrow at her usual nosiness. “If you must know, we were talking about her underwear.” He was rewarded by her shocked laughter.

Shortly before the dinner gong, Teresa returned with Honesty in a pale green, silk dress with a dipping neckline. Greyson was glad to see she was breathing again, but he found her absently tugging at the low neckline distracting to say the least.

Teresa pulled Honesty to sit next to her with they moved to the dining room. Shortly before the meal started Teresa’s husband Robert Pane, eleventh duke of Winston arrived. After he gently kissed his wife on the hand, he was seated and greeted the guests around him. He startled in surprise as his eyes landed on Honesty. He jumped to his feet and clasped both of her hands. “Miss Williams, I swear, you are a sight for sore eyes. . . . Oh, my dear Honesty, what are you doing here? Where have you been? Oh, it has simply been forever . . . Teresa, Teresa dearest, have you met Miss Williams? Or is it Mrs. Now? Tell me someone hasn’t snatched you up, but surely they have. Oh, I cannot believe this . . .  it’s a miracle.” Robert’s loud voice rang over everyone else's. All the other guests watched the Duke of Winton exclaim over his reunion with Miss Williams. Honesty blushed a scarlet color as every eye was focused on her and the duke. Finally, Robert realized the scene he was creating and abruptly sat down. There was an awkward silence before the Duchess of Devonshire signaled for the meal to be served.

After the dinner was over and the guests had moved to the card room, Greyson pulled Robert aside. “So, I understand you and Miss Williams have met before.”

Robert’s eyes twinkled and he sighed, “She was the one who got away.” When he saw Greyson stiffen, he added, “Not that I would want to be married to anyone but your sister, but for a moment there I was in love . . . but then so were all the young bucks that season.”

Greyson made a motion for Robert to continue.

“ On opening night, she appeared fresh as candy. She sparkled. She was so excited about being in London for the season. And she dazzled us. At the end of the first week, Laura Cantwell bet her she couldn’t get every unmarried buck to dance that night.”

“I thought her name was Laura Snodgrass.”

“Oh, yeah, you are right- Cantwell is her married name. . . Have you heard this before?”

“No, go on.”

“Well, smart girl that she is, she found a loophole, the bet didn’t say she had to dance with every buck - just that she had to get them to dance. So Honesty showed all the young ladies a diamond necklace, and told them that one of them could win it if they could find it. She then told them that she was going to give it to one of the unmarried bucks, and after the girls danced with one of us they were entitled to ask if we had it. If we did, they could keep it. However, we were allowed to pass it around from one man to another.” Robert smiled, “suddenly we, the bucks against the wall, were overwhelmed with offers to dance from beautiful young girls.”

“And Honesty won the bet,” Greyson grinned.

“We had so much fun that we begged her not to tell who had the necklace and the game continued for three weeks.”

“And then what happened.”

Robert shrugged, “No one knew, one night she was just gone. After several days we heard she had some kind of family emergency and had to return home.”

Greyson frowned; according to the children whatever had happened occurred in London. “What happened with the game?”

Robert chuckled again, “Old Dan Wurthart had the necklace the whole time, and he returned it to Cynthia Bells, its owner.”

“But he is at least a hundred years old, and is in a wheelchair and has been for what - fifty years?” Greyson laughed along with his brother-in-law.

“But he used to insist on going to every ball. We never noticed that Miss Williams twirled the old man around the floor – to make sure he could be counted as an unmarried buck who had danced.”

The two men wiped the laughter from their eyes.

“So what is the lovely Miss Williams doing here?”

Greyson smiled, “Waiting for me to marry her. She just doesn’t know it yet.”

Robert chuckled and slapped Greyson on the shoulder, “Lord! If we put Teresa and Honesty together, we are in trouble.”

♣♣♣

Greyson was in his study the next morning, when Honesty appeared. She moved into the room tentatively and sat perched on the edge of the leather backed chair arm across from his desk. He watched her closely as she twisted her hands in her lap. She looked like she might have been crying.

“What is wrong?” Greyson moved to her side and knelt down before her.

“I just wanted to come and apologize for my unseemly behavior last night. I never meant to imply that you were responsible for my clothing problems. Mama has arranged for my dresses to be let out to accommodate my girth. . . .” Honesty picked at her skirt without meeting his eyes, “ and  . . . I apologize for the disruption I caused at dinner last night.”

“What disruption would that be?” Greyson questioned softly.

“When” she swallowed, “when Ro . . .Duke Winston and I kept everyone . . .  when dinner was late starting because I . .. ” her voice trailed off.

“Honesty who told you that you needed to apologize to me?”

Her eyes jerked up to his, “No one – but when you do something wrong you should be man enough to face it.”

Greyson slid into the seat of the chair and pulled her off the arm into his lap. She squawked and struggled, but he held her fast until she stopped wiggling.

“First of all, you are not in any way responsible for Robert’s holding dinner last night. And secondly, no one minded waiting the – what? - three minutes extra. You don’t see us holding him over the coals do you? So no apology is needed.

And as for the clothing problem, I am glad you have found a solution, but I wasn’t mad about it. I was upset that you were going to faint, that was all. Teresa was more than happy to help us out.”