My Unfair Lady

Copyright © 2009 by Kathryne Kennedy

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The characters and events portrayed in this book are fictitious or are used fictitiously. Any similarity to real persons, living or dead, is purely coincidental and not intended by the author.

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SUMMER WINE LEE PEEKED THROUGH THE DRAPERY covering the second-story window of their rented London town house, hoping to catch a glimpse of the man she intended to hire to change her life forever. She'd sent an invitation to the impoverished Duke of Monchester asking that he meet with her today regarding an urgent business matter, but she wasn't quite sure if he'd come or not.

   She started twisting the fringe that adorned the dark green drapes. They'd been in London for over a month, and nothing had happened. No invitations. No visitors. Not even a nod from the elegantly clad English people when they passed her by as she strolled along Curzon Street. Her friend Maria had told her to be patient, that she needed to gather all the informa tion she could before they implemented their plan.

   But it was hard to be patient when she felt so lonesome.

   Summer sighed. She'd been lonely her entire child hood; why should she start feeling sorry for herself now? Pa had been obsessed with that mine in Arizona, and she'd foolishly thought that he'd spend more time with her when he'd found that vein of silver. That the huge strike would rid him of his obsession for wealth. Instead, he'd uprooted her and Maria from the frontier town of Tombstone and plunked them in New York while he'd continued his obsession in other ways— investing in railroads and banks and property.

   Summer glanced around the room at the raised panel walls, velvet upholstery, and plush rugs, all of it a bit frayed and worn. Everything felt so old in England—unlike the burgeoning newness of New York—and yet neither city had welcomed her. New York society had shunned both her and her friend, until she'd met Monte. She smiled at the thought of her intended, the man she'd come all the way to England for… so that she could become a different person, a real lady, that his family would accept.

   She just wished that Pa had come with them, instead of staying in New York. He claimed that his health wouldn't allow him to travel, and he did have a horrible cough from working in the mine all those years, but Summer still had a feeling that he simply didn't want to leave in the middle of business negotiations. The only time she heard from him was when he sent more funds.

   But she had her best friend, Maria, she reminded herself. And although she couldn't have brought all her slobbery crew of pets with her on that terrible ocean voyage, she did manage to bring her little Chihuahua, Chi-chi. She wasn't entirely alone.

   "Maria, this had better work," Summer muttered to the empty drawing room. For this was her friend's plan, not her own. Summer had wanted to hire one of the American heiresses who had already married into a title, the ones who had gone through money so quickly entertaining Prince Albert that they sponsored young American girls looking for an introduction into society.

   "Not good enough," Maria had responded, flipping her long black hair over her shoulder. "Trust me when I tell ya', if ya' want to be a lady, ya' hire a man to teach ya' how to do it. And I finally discovered the perfect fellow, a poor duke with two falling-down castles, who's feared by all in the social circle for his quick wit and nasty tongue… but is also a particular favorite of His Highness."

   Neither of them had ever met the duke, yet Maria had been confident and told Summer it was her golden opportunity. So Summer had sent her invitation and didn't know what scared her the most: the idea that the duke might just show up out of curiosity, or that he'd ignore the invitation entirely.

   Feet pounded up the stairs. "He's coming!" panted Maria, her green eyes wild with excitement. Summer's stomach flew up into her throat, and she felt her entire body tremble.

   "How do you know?"

   Maria put her hand over her heart. "'Cause one of the chambermaids seen him before, and I set her up to watch the street."

   Summer pressed her nose to the pane of glass, trying to see around the edge of the window to the cobbled street below. Several men strode toward the direction of her house. "Which one is he?"

   "The one without a hat," answered Maria before she spun back around.

   Summer only heard her steps pounding downstairs, for she couldn't take her eyes off the man who strode toward her home. All the other men wore bowler hats, so he was easy to pick out. Even the feeble rays of England's sun reflected off his blond hair, making it glow a golden yellow. He wore it unfashionably long and bare of the pomade that slicked most other men's hair back. Summer liked it.

   The duke had on a long coat of pale blue, narrow trousers, and a deep blue cravat. He carried no umbrella or cane, and as he passed a group of gentlemen going in the opposite direction, she realized that he was also not a particularly tall man. For some reason this made her feel more at ease, so that when the bell jangled, and Maria came in to announce that she had a visitor, Summer felt almost quite calm.

   Until he walked into the room.

   She had arranged herself on the settee, folded her hands in her lap, and then quickly covered Chi-chi with her skirts, mentally scolding the chambermaid who'd promised to keep the little critter from under foot. She felt the dog settle down beneath the warmth of her petticoats—none of them had been prepared for the coolness of England even in the summer—and breathed a sigh of relief.

   "Are you Miss Lee?" inquired the duke as he ran his eyes from the top of her head to the tips of her kidskin boots. "Miss Summer
Wine
Lee?" The deep richness of his voice made her heart turn over with what she could only assume was terror, and she jumped to her feet, jostling Chi-chi and making her growl. Tarnation, she didn't need her dog to attack this man's ankles, so she quickly sat back down, lifting one slippered foot beneath her skirts to rub the side of the dog's belly.

   "How… how do you do?" she stammered, holding out her hand but not attempting to get up again.

   His golden brows rose in astonishment, but he came to her anyway as if nothing were amiss, as only a true gentleman would, and took her hand as if to kiss it. But the moment their skin met he froze, staring at her with the bluest eyes she'd ever seen, a mouth so perfect it reminded her of a statue of Apollo, and above that master piece a nose that seemed slightly crooked, saving him from being extraordinarily handsome to just boyishly so.

   Chi-chi started to growl again and broke the spell that had fallen over them. The duke glanced around looking for the source of the sound, while Summer renewed her belly rub and the little dog quickly quieted again. With more bravado than she felt, she imperiously waved at a chair next to her, and with a frown he took it, his compact frame settling elegantly into the velvet upholstery.

   The duke studied her, trying to believe what his eyes told him. He'd met many an American heiress intent on claiming a title and a position in society, but they generally resembled Englishwomen, albeit some times prettier and… healthier. But this one looked like some elfin creature that had tumbled out of a fairy tale from his childhood, with her hair and eyes and skin all shades of golden brown. "You have an interesting name. I presume that you're an American?"

   Summer's eyes widened. He said it as if it were a curse. "Yes."

   "And you have a business proposition for me?"

   "Yes." He sounded as if he should be the last person in London she should approach for anything.

   "Do you know who I am?"

   
Tarnation, his voice dripped with arrogance
, thought Summer. "Yes."

   His eyebrows rose again. "Including my reputation?"

   She opened her mouth and closed it again. How confident was she in Maria's information? Was he some kind of rake? Had inviting him into her home already ruined her reputation and spoiled any chances of her social success?

   "I… I'm not sure what you mean."

   "Then, madam, let me enlighten you." He leaned forward, his masculine presence filling the room, his eyes glittering with anger. "Before you present any proposition to me, you must understand that
I do not like
American women. I abhor this method of purchasing titles. I use every opportunity I can to discredit these social hunters to His Highness, who is a particular friend of mine, as I'm sure you're aware. Why else would you seek me out? As a gentleman I feel it only fair to warn you of this. My truthful comments entertain the prince, which allows me to live in some of the comfort I've been accustomed to, and I would use all information at my disposal to continue to entertain him. Including any proposals you wish to put forth… as well as information about your person."

   Summer stared at him in utter astonishment, unprepared for his speech. She'd been rehearsing her own proposition and hadn't considered he might have something to say as well. She could only think to ask, "My person?"

   "Quite."

   "Such as?"

   "Such as the quaint cut of your dress, several years out of date, if I don't miss my guess, and the appalling way your hair continues to escape from your coiffure and flop about your head. And what is wrong with your voice? Unfortunately, I know several American women, and none of them have that twangy accent making them sound even more uncultured than they already are." The duke relaxed back into his chair and crossed his arms over his broad chest. "And oh, please, please enlighten me about this condition of yours that makes your leg twitch."

   Maria had told her he wielded his tongue like a sword; Summer just hadn't thought it could cut so deeply. She tried to remember that this was exactly why she wanted his help. With his support she'd be able to conquer society in half the time than with any other sponsor.

   He pierced her with his steady gaze, full of arro gance and confidence, waiting for an answer, waiting for her to burst into tears. Summer grinned and lifted her skirts.

   The duke's mouth dropped open, those beautiful lips that disguised such a wicked tongue forming a complete "O" of surprise when Chi-chi popped out—five pounds of snarling, snapping fur.

   "I was trying to prevent her from biting your ankles, but now I think I'll let her have a go at it."

   Unfortunately, the duke wore tall boots, and Chi-chi only managed to scuff the leather up a bit. "Bloody hell, what is it?" he asked as he shook his leg to make the animal let go.

   "It's a dog," snapped Maria, who'd obviously been listening at the door. She charged into the room and swept the white bundle of fur up into her arms. "And she don't like ya', and neither do I." She spun and faced Summer. "How can ya' sit and smile at the man? Draw yore knife! Poke him a good one and send him on his way! I'm sorry I ever got this crazy notion to invite him here."