The Duke Dilemma (10 page)

He wasn’t quite sure how it happened, but they somehow managed to corner him across the room and nearly into the cast-iron dog grate. A well-planned, graceful step to one side brought him next to the carved white marble chimneypiece. From there he could skirt along a dado railing of the half-paneled wall toward one of the sash windows. It gave Edward the oddest feeling, something akin to being prey.

“Lady Charlotte recommended we take the time to see some of the Town sights.” Lady Margaret’s suggestive tone implied the unthinkable. “We had thought to visit Vauxhall Gardens one evening.”

“An excellent entertainment, I should think.” Edward smiled in all politeness. Tolerating the ladies for dinner tonight might be pressing his endurance for accommodating newly made acquaintances, or recent distant relations, to its limit. He must remember to thank Frederick for the social obligations that prevented him from accommodating these visitors.

“What might Your Grace deem worthwhile?” Lady Margaret inquired with formidable interest.

The Duke stood before them silently, contemplating the possible consequence of his answer.

“Your Grace?” asked Miss Orr, staring at him without blinking.

“Your Grace?” Lady Margaret repeated, her gaze firmly fixed upon him. She waited for his next word.

Edward, too, wondered what he would say.

Augusta observed her father, busy across the room with the new acquaintances. Lady Margaret bore a slight likeness to Charlotte’s husband. For Miss Orr there was no resemblance at all, and neither lady resembled the other in the least. “They’re Sir Philip’s relatives, you say?”

“They are,” Charlotte replied. “Lady Margaret is Sir Philip’s aunt on his mother’s side, and Miss Orr is his cousin on his father’s side.”

Freddie studied the women, narrowing his eyes and adjusting his cuffs. “They’re both unmarried, I take it?”

“Well, of course they are. What would be the point in having them meet Papa if they were married?” Charlotte drew her two siblings back, farther away from the Duke and her two duchess
candidates. “It is difficult to know whom he may fancy. Either would suit him, though.”

“Do you really think it safe to talk about that here?” Freddie glanced across the room.

“Papa seems occupied enough at the moment.” Augusta had watched him lean against the chimneypiece, his full attention currently on Lady Margaret.

“We really should not be speaking of this. Moo specifically told us we were not to discuss this any further than our—”

“Oh, bother Moo! She’s not here,” Augusta replied in a churlish and very childish manner.

“Well, she can’t be, can she?” Charlotte retorted with the tilt of her head.

“
Ladies
…” Freddie leaned toward his sisters and crooned softly to gain their attention and concluded, “The present location of our beloved Moo is not the point.” He straightened and plucked at his cravat as if he had crimped its intricate folds.

Augusta and Charlotte ceased their hostilities at once.

“He’s right,” Augusta admitted to her chagrin. Freddie’s expression was one of pure triumph. “What we truly wish to know is the progress you’ve made, if any.”

“Of course I’ve made progress.” Freddie sounded insulted. “We’ve met two…no, three serious candidates.” He stopped short of identifying the ladies by name. “We’ve ridden in the Park, attended an assembly, paid morning calls, taken a few of them out driving, and we’ve been to the opera and the theater. Over these last few days His Grace has even been seen on the dance floor—and
not
with his own daughters.”

“How have you managed that?” Charlotte’s voice softened and her expression brightened with her obvious astonishment. “And in such a short time.”

Augusta glanced at their father, making sure he hadn’t become aware of their conversation.

“What did you expect?” Freddie was certainly confident he had discovered the perfect wife for their father. “There’s no need for you two to get involved.”

“Really?” This was brave talk for a man who, Augusta believed, had never been in love before. How could he recognize if their father’s heart had been pierced by Cupid’s arrow?

“It might be best if you allow me to handle the whole thing. It’s just a matter of time before he comes up to scratch.”

“You think Papa is that close to proposing?” Charlotte naively believed their brother. Augusta was far more realistic.

“He might be. It’s difficult to say.” Freddie’s smugness was difficult for Augusta to tolerate.

“I do not think we should leave the search entirely to you, Freddie. I think Lady Margaret would make Papa a splendid wife,” Charlotte said.

Augusta glanced at the trio across the room. Their father certainly seemed to be deep in conversation with the guests. She would not believe he had made an attachment until the words came from his very lips. Only then would she cease all attempts of finding him a bride.

Freddie had already begun his matrimonial mission, and tonight Charlotte had taken her first step. It was high time Augusta made plans to introduce some of her own acquaintances to her father.

CHAPTER SIX

Edward attended the morning session of Parliament then returned home to accompany his son for a drive in the Park. Concluding his business matters for the present, the Duke signed the last page of the document and returned the lot to Abernathy.

“Have we finished for the afternoon?”

“I do have the list of estates you requested for Lord Brent for your consideration.” The secretary placed the list upon the desk and gazed over the Duke’s shoulder, preparing to discuss the properties.

“Excellent.” With every passing day, Edward felt more confident Frederick would prove to be a dab hand at it. The added responsibility would do him good.

The Duke stared across his library, past the leather wing-back chairs to the leather-bound books filling the shelves across the opposite wall. He wondered if Frederick would aspire to a library such as this in his new house. Out of the corner of his eye, Edward noticed Augusta standing at the threshold.

“Good afternoon,” she interrupted politely. Dressed in a green-sprigged gown, she entered the room. “It’s good to see you again, Abernathy.”

“Good day to you, Lady Augusta.” The secretary bowed and stepped back from the Duke. With her present, there would no business discussion of any kind.

Augusta neared the desk and strolled to the farthest end. “I wonder if I could further impose upon your hospitality, Papa?”

“What is it you wish, dear?” Edward leaned back in his chair.

“I’d like to host a card party.” She slowly stepped forward, dragging her index finger along the desk’s surface.

“I do not see why you cannot. I’m afraid your brother has scheduled my every evening for the next fortnight.” Edward hadn’t meant it to sound as if he were making an excuse not to attend. He was trying only to caution her not to count upon his attendance. “If you need help, you may—”

“I’m not planning anything grand. I’m thinking of only an informal gathering and just enough guests to occupy a few tables.”

“Please feel free to do so, my dear.” He placed both hands, palms down, upon the desk. “Is there anything else? If not, Abernathy and I are just concluding our business.”

“I beg your pardon,” she said to Abernathy and inclined her head before leaving. “Thank you, Papa.”

Edward motioned for Abernathy to approach. “Where were we?”

“Your Grace was about to look over the list for Lord Brent’s new estate.” He gestured to the surface of the desk, where he had placed it only minutes before. “As you see, next to each is the location, current income, and itemized details of holdings.”

The Duke skimmed the details: the number of cottages, outbuildings, acreage of grasslands, farmlands, and mature woodlands included with each property, making transitory comparisons.

“We can ask for further details on the estates that are of interest,” Abernathy told him.

Having decided on the properties for which he’d like more information, Edward started to reply then raised his head at the
sound of heavy footfalls reverberating down the corridor toward the library. Frederick soon stood in the doorway with his hat in hand. He’d donned breeches, top boots, and a dark frock coat for this afternoon’s drive in the Park.

“Is it time to leave already?” Edward appeared surprised.

Frederick strolled into the room and nodded to the secretary. “When you’re around Abernathy you always manage to lose all sense of time.”

“An occupational hazard, I’m afraid.” His son was probably right, the minutes and hours always flew by when Edward mulled over business matters. Standing from his desk, Edward moved away, albeit not in any haste. He would have preferred a few more minutes to consider the listings.

“You are forever saying that.” Frederick waved at his father to quicken his pace.

Frederick did not yet comprehend how much time and effort it took to oversee the various houses and land holdings. In addition, he’d need to care for the tenants on his lands. But he would in due time.

Edward glanced at his son’s attire. “Buckskins and top boots for a drive in the Park? Isn’t that a bit rustic?” Miss Dayton wouldn’t be nearly as impressed with Frederick showing up as the country gentleman than as the dapper beau to whom she was accustomed. The Duke stood and moved around the desk to accompany his son.

“I’m off to meet with Fieldstone after we’re finished. He’s going to ride out on his new black.” Frederick turned and left as soon as it was clear his parent followed his direction. “His Grace will be needing his greatcoat, Ralston.”

It didn’t seem as if Frederick was nearly as anxious about making a good impression on Miss Dayton as he was to see the Viscount and his new horse.

Edward approached the doorway and, at the last moment, grabbed hold of the molding, ceasing his progress. He turned back to his secretary to issue a final request: “Would you see that I receive additional information on the first and the last two items, please?”

“I shall see to it immediately, sir.” Abernathy retrieved the list from the desk.

“Your Grace!” Frederick called to him from the foyer, sounding rather impatient. “The ladies Dayton await!”

Louise finished reading the fourth chapter of
Emma
out loud and eased the volume closed. She tilted her chin up, allowing her to see the group of ladies sitting around the tastefully decorated floral parlor. As always, between readings of each chapter, the ladies stood and moved about.

Anne, Lady Ashton, and Mrs. Pamela Dumfries, who sat on a red-striped silk sofa across the way from Louise, took their time rising.

Dressed in a lilac-colored turban that matched her day dress, Lady Kate Gelsthorpe rang a small silver bell sitting on the table beside her, informing her staff the ladies were ready for a tea tray to be brought in.

“
We
desire a turn about the room before the reading of the next chapter.” Lady Gelsthorpe’s right hand went to her knee, sending the white egret plumes atop her turban swaying. She extended her left hand and implored. “Effie, if you please.”

Miss Euphemia Dillingham, visiting her godmother, Lady Gelsthorpe, was a few years younger than Louise. She held her double-flounced muslin skirts and moved toward their hostess, immediately offering her aid to stand.

“
Our
knee grows increasingly stiff.” Lady Gelsthorpe took her time standing. She walked arm in arm with Miss Dillingham, who lent support. “It usually plagues
us
in the winter months, but
we
fear its occurrence in the summer is of some concern. Oh, never mind the knee—tell
us
what did you think of
our
Miss Woodhouse?”

Louise stood, straightening her own blue-striped skirts, and fell into step behind the pair. She had read the first three chapters only yesterday and could not wait to hear what the others thought about the headstrong heroine.

“Poor Emma, I think she misses the company of her old governess, Miss Taylor,” Miss Dillingham commented. “Her father is no proper companion for her at all. I can’t help but feel sorry for her situation.”

Although Louise thought of Miss Woodhouse as capable and stalwart, she could sympathize with Emma as well.