Minx (23 page)

"No, Henry," Dunford said in a very low, very dangerous voice. "I do not think you should practice your feminine wiles on Ned."

"Do you think not?" she asked blithely. "He seems a perfect choice."

"It would be extremely dangerous to your health."

"Whatever does that mean? I cannot imagine that Belle's brother would ever hurt me."

"But I would."

"You would?" she breathed. "What would you do?"

"If you think," he bit out, "that I'm going to answer that question, you are feeble-minded, if not insane."

Henry's eyes widened. "Oh, my."

"Oh, my, indeed. I want you to listen to me," he said, his eyes boring dangerously into hers. "You are to stay away from Ned Blydon, you are to stay away from married men, and you are to stay away from all of the rakes on Belle's list."

"Including you?"

"Of course not including me," he snapped. "I'm your goddamned guardian." He clamped his mouth shut, barely able to believe he'd lost his temper to the extent that he'd sworn at her.

Henry, however, seemed not to notice his foul language. "All of the rakes?"

"All of them."

"Then whom may I set my cap for?"

Dunford opened his mouth, fully intending to rattle off a list of names. To his surprise, he couldn't come up with even one.

"There must be someone," she prodded.

He glared at her, thinking that he'd like to take his hand and wipe that impossibly cheerful expression off her face. Or better yet, he'd do it with his mouth.

"Don't tell me I'm going to have to spend the entire season with just you for a companion." It was difficult, but Henry just managed to keep the hopefulness out of her voice.

Dunford abruptly stood, practically hauling her up along with him. "We'll find someone. In the meantime let's go home."

They hadn't taken three steps when they heard someone call out Dunford's name. Henry looked up and saw an extremely elegant, extremely well-dressed, and extremely beautiful woman heading their way. "A friend of yours?" she asked.

"Lady Sarah-Jane Wolcott."

"Another of your conquests?"

"No," he said testily.

Henry quickly assessed the predatory gleam in the woman's eye. "She'd like to be."

He turned on her. " What did you just say?"

She was saved from having to reply by the arrival of Lady Wolcott. Dunford greeted her and then introduced the two ladies.

"A ward?" Lady Wolcott trilled. "How charming."

Charming? Henry wanted to echo. But she kept her mouth shut.

"How utterly domestic of you," Lady Wolcott continued, touching Dunford's arm—rather suggestively, in Henry's opinion.

"I don't know if I would call it 'domestic,'" Dunford replied politely, "but it certainly has been a new experience."

"Oh, I'm sure." Lady Wolcott wet her lips. "It's not at all in your usual style. You are usually given to more athletic—and masculine—pursuits."

Henry was so livid she thought it a wonder she didn't start hissing. Her hand quite involuntarily clenched, forming claws she really wanted to rake across the elder lady's face.

"Rest assured, Lady Wolcott," Dunford replied, "I am finding my role as guardian to be most informative and character-building."

"Character-building? Pish. How dull. You'll soon grow bored. Come and call when you do. I'm sure we can find ways to entertain ourselves."

Dunford sighed. Normally he'd have been tempted to take Sarah-Jane up on her rather blatant offer, but with Henry in tow he suddenly felt the need to take the moral high road. "Tell me," he said sharply. "How is Lord Wolcott faring these days?"

"Doddering away in Dorset. As usual. He's really of no concern here in London." She gave Dunford one last seductive smile, nodded sleekly at Henry, and was on her way.

"Is that how I am meant to behave?" Henry asked disbelievingly.

"Absolutely not."

"Then—"

"Just be yourself," he said curtly. "Just be yourself, and stay away from—"

"I know. I know. Stay away from married men, Ned Blydon, and rakes of every variety. Just be so good as to let me know if you think of someone else I must add to the list."

Dunford scowled.

Henry smiled all the way home.

Chapter 13

One week later Henry was ready to be presented to society. Caroline had decided that her charge would make her bow at the annual Lindworthy bash. It was always a huge affair, Caroline had explained, so if Henry was a smashing success, everyone would know about it.

"But what if I am a miserable failure?" Henry had asked.

Caroline had given her a smile that said she did not think that was much of a worry and said, "Then you shall be able to lose yourself in the crowd."

Fairly reasonable logic, Henry had thought.

Belle came over on the night of the ball to help her dress. They had chosen a gown of white silk shot through with silver thread. "You are very lucky, you know," she said as she and a maid helped Henry into it. "Young ladies just out are supposed to wear white, but many look hideous in the color."

"Do I?" Henry asked quickly, panic rising in her eyes. She wanted to look perfect. As perfect as she could, at least, with what graces God had bestowed upon her. She desperately wanted to show Dunford she could be the kind of woman he'd want by his side here in London. She had to prove to him—and to herself—that she could be more than a farm girl.

"Of course not," Belle said reassuringly. "Mama and I never would have let you buy this gown had it not looked perfectly enchanting on you. My cousin Emma wore violet at her debut. It shocked some, but, as Mama said, white makes Emma look yellow. Better to defy tradition than to look like a pot of custard."

Henry nodded as Belle did up the buttons at the back of her gown. She tried to turn around to look in the mirror, but Belle put a gently restraining hand on her shoulder, saying, "Not yet. Wait until you can see the full effect."

Belle's maid Mary spent the next hour carefully arranging her hair, curling it here and teasing it there. Henry waited in agonized suspense. Finally Belle popped a pair of diamond earbobs on her ears and draped a matching necklace around her throat.

"But whose are these?" Henry asked in a surprised voice.

"Mine."

Henry immediately reached up to her ears to remove the jewelry. "Oh, but I couldn't."

Belle pulled her hand back down. "Of course you can."

"But what if I lose them?"

"You won't."

"But what if I do?" Henry persisted.

"Then it will by my fault for having lent them to you. Now be quiet and take a look at our handiwork." Belle smiled and turned her around to face the mirror.

Henry was stunned into silence. Finally she whispered, "Is that me?" Her eyes seemed to sparkle in tune with the diamonds, and her face glowed with innocent promise. Mary had swept her thick hair into an elegant French twist and then pulled feathery tendrils out to curl mischievously around her face. These wisps glowed gold in the candlelight, lending her an almost ethereal air.

"You look magical," Belle said with a smile.

Henry stood slowly, still unable to believe the reflection in the glass was really hers. The silver threads in her dress caught the light when she moved, and as she walked across the room, she shimmered and sparkled, looking not quite of this world, almost too precious to touch. She took a deep breath, trying to control some of the heady feelings rushing through her. She had never known, never dreamed she could feel beautiful. And she did. She felt like a princess— like a fairy princess with the world at her feet. She could conquer London. She could glide across the floor even more gracefully than the women with rollers for feet. She could laugh and sing and dance until dawn. She smiled and hugged herself. She could do anything.

She even thought she could make Dunford fall in love with her. And that was the headiest feeling of all.

The man who occupied her thoughts was presently waiting downstairs with Belle's husband John and their good friend Alexander Ridgely, the Duke of Ashbourne.

"So tell me," Alex was saying as he swirled some whiskey around in a glass. "Who exactly is this young woman I'm supposed to champion this evening? And how did you manage to get yourself a ward, Dunford?"

"Came with the title. It was even more of a shock than the barony, to tell the truth. Thank you, by the way, for coming by to lend your support. Henry hasn't been out of Cornwall since she was ten or so, and she's terrified at the prospect of a London season."

Alex immediately pictured a meek, retiring miss and sighed. "I'll do my best."

John caught his expression, grinned, and said, "You'll like this girl, Alex. I guarantee it."

Alex arched a brow.

"I'm serious." John decided to pay Henry the highest of compliments by saying she reminded him of Belle, but then he remembered he was speaking to a man who was as besotted with his wife as John was with his own. "She's rather like Emma," John said instead. "I'm certain the two of them will get along quite famously."

"Oh, please," Dunford scoffed. "She's nothing like Emma."

"Pity for her, then," Alex said.

Dunford shot him an annoyed look.

"Why don't you think she's like Emma?" John asked mildly.

"If you had seen her in Cornwall, you'd know. She wore breeches all the time and managed a farm, for God's sake."

"I find your tone hard to discern," Alex said. "Was that supposed to make me admire the girl or scorn her?"

Another scowl from Dunford. "Just beam approvingly in her general direction and dance with her once or twice. As much as I loathe the way society panders to you, I'm not above using your position to ensure her success."

"Anything you wish," Alex said affably, ignoring his friend's caustic comments. "Although don't think I'm doing this for you. Emma said she'd have my head if I didn't help Belle out with her new protégé,"

"As well you should," Belle said pertly, entering the room in a cloud of blue silk.

"Where is Henry?" Dunford asked.

"Right here." Belle stepped aside to let Henry enter.

All three men looked at the woman in the doorway, but they all saw different things.

Alex saw a rather attractive young lady with a remarkable air of vitality in her silver eyes.

John saw the woman he'd come to like and admire tremendously this past week, looking rather fetching and grown-up in her new gown and coiffure.

Dunford saw an angel.

"My God, Henry," he breathed, taking an involuntary step toward her. "What happened to you?"

Henry's face crumpled. "Don't you like it? Belle said—"

"No!" he burst out, his voice oddly raw. He rushed forward and clasped her hands. "I mean yes. I mean you look marvelous."

"Are you certain? Because I could change—"

"Don't change a thing," he said sternly.

She stared up at him, knowing her heart was in her eyes but quite unable to do a thing about it. Finally Belle broke in, saying in an amused voice, "Henry, I really must introduce you to my cousin."

Henry blinked and turned to the black-haired, green-eyed man standing next to John. He was magnetically handsome, she thought rather objectively, but she hadn't even noticed him when she'd walked into the room. She hadn't been able to see anyone except Dunford.

"Miss Henrietta Barrett," Belle said, "may I present the Duke of Ashbourne?"

Alex took her hand and dropped a light kiss on her knuckles. "I'm delighted to meet you, Miss Barrett," he said smoothly, casting a wicked glance at Dunford, who had clearly just realized he'd made a cake of himself over his ward. "Not as delighted as our friend Dunford, perhaps, but delighted nonetheless."

Henry's eyes danced, and a wide smile broke out over her face. "Please call me Henry, your grace—"

"Everybody does," Dunford finished for her.

She shrugged helplessly. "It's true. Except for Lady Worth."

"Henry," Alex said, testing the sound of it out. "It suits you, I think. Certainly more than does Henrietta."

"I don't think Henrietta suits anyone," she replied. Then she offered him her cheeky smile, and Alex saw in an instant why Dunford was falling like a rock for this girl. She had spirit, and although she didn't realize it yet, she had beauty, and Dunford didn't have a chance.

"I expect not," Alex said. "My wife is expecting our first child in two months. I shall have to make certain we don't name her Henrietta."

"Oh, yes," Henry said suddenly, as if she'd just remembered something important. "You're married to Belle's cousin. She must be lovely."

Alex's eyes softened. "Yes, she is. I hope you get a chance to meet her. She would like you very much."

"Not half as much as I will like her, I'm sure, as she had the good sense to marry you." Henry shot a daring glance over at Dunford. "Oh, but please forget I said that, your grace. Dunford has insisted I not speak to married men." As if to illustrate her point, she took a step back.