A Duke of Her Own (8 page)

She swallowed hard, not at all certain why she was suddenly so rattled or behaving so irascibly. “I think we should go into the garden.”

“Yes, let’s,” Jenny said. “I’ll have a servant fetch us some tea.”

She sat so near that if he inhaled deeply he could enjoy the fragrance of her perfume. Strange that with all the scents of flowers in bloom surrounding him, he could still recognize hers. Stranger still, because she was not the lady sitting closest to him.

Lady Louisa sat a short distance away, sketch pad in hand, allowing Hawk the opportunity to woo Miss Rose. Damned if he could think of anything with which to woo her.

“What is she drawing?” Jenny asked.

Hawk jerked his head around to meet Jenny’s amused gazed. “I have no earthly idea.”

“Really? You were staring so hard I thought perhaps you could see through the paper.”

“My apologies. I’m not accustomed to being watched. I find it most disconcerting.”

“Surely you have courted others.”

“Actually, no.”

She angled her head thoughtfully. “Then why me and why now?”

“I’m fast approaching the age when I must see to my duties.”

“May I offer you a bit of advice?”

“I would welcome any advice you have to offer.”

“A lady does not always welcome honest words.”

He chuckled. “I have botched my wooing, haven’t I?”

Peering at him over her bone china teacup, before sipping, she said, “Oh, I have every confidence that you can recover quite nicely.”

“Do you enjoy the opera?” he asked.

She swallowed delicately, pressed her lips together, and set the cup on the saucer on the table. “Yes, as a matter of fact, I enjoy it immensely.”

“I have a box. Perhaps you would be so kind as to accompany me tomorrow evening.”

“With my chaperone, of course.”

His stomach tightened at the thought of Louisa so very close, but there was no hope for it. “That goes without saying.”

“Then I shall be delighted.”

“Very good. I shall be by with my carriage at seven.” He came to his feet, bowed slightly. “Thank you for a most pleasant visit.”

“The pleasure was all mine.”

He nodded, turned to the chaperone, who was staring at him oddly. “Lady Louisa. Good day.”

“I shall see you out, Your Grace.”

She rose to her feet, set her sketch pad aside, and joined him as he headed into the house. “Your visit was rather brief.”

“I couldn’t think of a damned thing to say, pardon my language.”

Her lips twitched, and he could not help but wonder what it might be like to kiss her mouth. Why did thoughts such as those not visit him when he was with Jenny?

“Miss Rose has consented to accompany me to the opera tomorrow evening.”

“Then perhaps you should spend what time remains this afternoon studying poetry, so that you might impress her with a bit of well-crafted words.”

He grinned. “Surely you are not attempting to help me in my pursuit of a conquest.”

She came to a stop in the entry hallway, her smile a bit mischievous. “No, Your Grace, it would be a disservice to the lady were I to do that.”

Nodding, he took a step toward the door, stopped, turned. “You were correct in your assessment of me. It is the thrill of the hunt that I take pleasure in. I quickly lose interest in the conquered. Miss Rose does not present me with a challenge, and, therefore, I’m at a loss when it comes to pursuing her. If it is a title she seeks, I have but to ask, and she is mine.”

“Do not make the mistake of confusing the daughter with the mother,” Lady Louisa said.

Hawk felt a thrill shimmer through him. “You think the daughter would deny me?”

“I think she is a woman with a mind of her own. I cannot speak for what she would or would not do.”

“I shall keep that in mind.” He turned to go.

“Your Grace?”

He looked back at her. She was gnawing on her lower lip, clenching her hands, and darting a gaze toward the stairs. “I followed you out because Mrs. Rose instructed me to ask you your opinion regarding her daughters.”

“Mrs. Rose?”

“Yes, she wants to know if you find her daughters…agreeable.”

“I find them very agreeable.” He tipped his head slightly with further thought. “Too agreeable.”

“How can a woman be too agreeable?”

“By not offering a challenge. I’m not certain if these ladies are revealing their true selves.”

“Are you revealing yours to them?”

He laughed heartily. “I suppose I am not.”

A knock sounded on the door. The footman who had been standing at attention beside it opened it. Ravensley walked in carrying a large bouquet of American Beauty roses. The red rose had been successfully bred only two years before, its name chosen to honor the beauty of the American heiresses now clamoring on England’s shores.

“Hawk, fancy meeting you here,” Ravensley said.

“Indeed,” Hawk replied laconically.

Ravensley tipped his head toward his sister. “Louisa. Will you let Miss Jenny Rose know that I have come to call?”

“She’s in the garden. If you’ll come with me…”

As Ravensley walked by, Hawk grabbed his arm. “You have set your sights on Jenny?”

“Indeed I have. She led me to believe last night that she would welcome my courtship.”

Well,
Hawk thought.
The hunt just got more interesting.

“P
ray do tell me you’re not planning to wear
that
again.”

Louisa turned from closing the door to her bedchamber to find Jenny standing in the hallway wearing a lovely dress of lavender, with a modest décolletage, and a skirt with a train that flowed behind her. It wasn’t the gown she’d worn to the ball earlier in the week.

The same couldn’t be said of the gown that Louisa was presently wearing. It was the one she wore for all her evening entertainments. “No,” Louisa said. “I am not
planning
to wear it. Rather I
am
wearing it.”

“But you’ve already worn it once this week.”

“Miss Rose—”

“Jenny. We really must do away with this formality.”

“Miss Jenny, then. That’s as far as I’ll go toward informality. However, regarding my gown, I fear it is the only evening wear I possess.”

“I don’t understand you English girls. How can you catch and hold a man’s attention when every time he sees you, you’re dressed exactly the same?”

“I’ll admit to not understanding you American girls and your extravagances. I daresay I’ve not seen you wear the same clothing once since I walked through your door.”

“And I daresay that you won’t.” She angled her head. “You’re not quite as…robust as Kate, but you’re almost as tall as she. And while your hair is not nearly as outlandish as hers, I can see hints of red when the light catches yours just right. And your skin tone is more in line with hers. Come along. Let’s see what we can find of hers for you to wear. Most of hers are unused while mine are not.”

Louisa laughed lightly. “Don’t be ridiculous. Hawkhurst will be here any moment—”

“Let him wait.”

Louisa stared at her, deciding another tactic was in order. “I’m not going to wear your sister’s clothing.”

“Why not? Afraid a gentleman might actually take notice of you?”

Louisa felt her mouth drop, her eyes widen. “I beg your pardon?”

“You dress dowdily, like a spinster aunt who has given up on ever finding passion.”

Striving not to feel the sting of that sentiment, which struck just a little too close to home, Louisa lifted her chin. “I’ll have you know that this gown was quite the rage three years ago.”

“Yes, well”—Jenny took Louisa’s arm—“let’s find something for you that’s quite the rage now.”

Louisa dug her slippered feet into the carpet. “Jenny, I’m not going to wear one of Kate’s gowns.”

“Have you ever worn a Worth?”

Louisa licked her lips, shook her head. “No.”

“Have you never wanted to?”

“Of course, I’ve wanted to, but they are notoriously expensive. Besides, if I were to wear it tonight, and then she wore it to a ball, people would know that I had borrowed it—”

Jenny laughed before Louisa could finish explaining the mortification of people knowing that she was borrowing clothes.

“Don’t be ridiculous. Kate has a hundred gowns. We’ll select one, and you may borrow it for the entire Season.”

“Your mother won’t like it at all.”

“We won’t tell her.”

“You don’t think she’ll notice—”

“No. She pays scant attention to our gowns, too busy with her own wardrobe. Come on, it’ll be fun.”

“Jenny, seriously, the duke—”

“Can
wait.
” She leaned forward, and whispered
conspiratorially, “A lady should never give the impression that she is too eager to be in a gentleman’s company. Now, come along. While we don’t want to appear too eager, neither do we want to appear as though we have no interest at all.”

She opened the door to her sister’s bedchamber. “Kate, help me find a gown that Lady Louisa can wear this evening.”

Kate was sitting on a divan. She looked up from the book she was reading. “What?”

“She wore this gown to the ball. She can’t wear it to the opera.”

“She’s the chaperone. What does it matter?”

“It matters,” Jenny said, as she opened a set of doors that led into a small room where gowns were hanging.

So this is what true wealth is like,
Louisa couldn’t help but think. A room filled with evening gowns. A sitting area. Mirrors placed in such a way that a lady would be able to view her front, sides, and back—all at the same time, by simply looking in one mirror.

Louisa had heard the rumors that American heiresses owned hundreds of gowns, but she’d never believed it…until now. Until the evidence surrounded her. And such beautiful, exquisite gowns, with pearls and beads, velvet and lace.

“Her coloring isn’t anything like mine,” Kate said.

“No one’s coloring is like yours. Honestly, sometimes I can’t decide if your hair is red or
orange,” Jenny said distractedly as she began moving gowns aside.

“I can’t decide if yours is red or brown,” Kate said.

“Depends on the lighting.” Jenny turned around, holding up a lovely gown of pink tulle and black velvet. “This should do nicely. Where are the accessories?”

Without hesitation, Kate walked to a dresser.

“Honestly, this is simply too much,” Louisa said, clutching her hands to prevent her fingers from reaching out to touch a gown more beautiful than any she’d ever worn. To wear a Charles Worth gown had long been a dream of hers, but if she wore it, how could she return to her simpler gowns? Was it better to have one night of feeling like a princess, then spending the remainder of her life knowing what she would never again have, or was it better never to have and never know?

“If you don’t like it, we can find another,” Jenny said.

“It’s lovely, but the duke—”

“Again, he can wait. Believe me, gentlemen appreciate us much more when we make them work a bit to gain our attention.” She smiled brightly. “Surely you wouldn’t deny Kate and me the fun of transforming you into an American heiress.”

“But your mother—”

“I asked Father to take her out for the evening.”

Kate approached, holding pink kid gloves, pink silk stockings, and pink silk slippers with black
bows. Louisa had accessories, but they did not match any particular outfit down to the tiniest detail. Rather she purchased items so they had multiple uses, could be interchanged without seeming out of place. These accessories could be worn with only this gown.

“Jenny feared Mama would push the duke into asking for her hand before he left,” Kate said.

“Your mother isn’t that bad,” Louisa said, again not certain why she took up for the woman. Perhaps because she had no mother to see after her, and a part of her envied these girls, thought they should appreciate their mother a bit more.

“She’s awful,” Kate said. “Now, Lady Louisa, do let Jenny and me have our fun. We often dressed each other when we were younger. I must admit that each of us takes pleasure in making the other look her best. You won’t be disappointed.”

“It seems like so much trouble—”

“Nonsense. Besides, won’t the duke be the envy of everyone when he arrives at the opera house with two lovely ladies on his arm?” Jenny asked.

Louisa knew that she should leave this room immediately, but for three years she’d worn the same gown to every evening function that she’d attended. To have one night—

“Is it truly a Worth?” she heard herself asking.

Smiling warmly, Jenny said, “Are ladies such as we deserving of anything less?”

He was unaccustomed to waiting being forced upon him. During the hunt, he would often bide
his time before making his calculated move, but as a rule, ladies did not seek his displeasure by delaying their entry.

Jenny Rose was another matter entirely. She had the upper hand, and well she knew it. Hawk stood in the entry hallway, holding his top hat and walking stick in one gloved hand, attempting to rein in his impatience. He was anxious to be about the seduction. It had even occurred to him to seek out her parents and ask for their daughter’s hand in marriage.

If a title was what they desired for her, then why was courtship even necessary? It was a colossal waste of his time and energies and simply delayed the introduction of his own sister into Society.

Hearing light footsteps, he glanced up at the sweeping staircase and felt as though someone had taken his walking stick and given him a hard jab in the chest. She was absolutely stunning. A vision in pink. Her hair was swept up off her alabaster shoulders, a band of gold circling the top of her head, holding pink ostrich feathers so they curled over her hair. She came to stand before him, the hue in her cheeks matching the hue of her gown. Had he ever seen so much of her shoulders, her throat, her chest? The swell of her breasts was merely a hint, yet his body reacted as though all were revealed.

“—lovely, don’t you think?”

He jerked his head around, the heat of embarrassment traveling along his neck, threatening to
strangle him. What had Jenny Rose been saying?

He forced himself to nod, smile, and hold her gaze when he desperately wanted to take another long, lingering look at Lady Louisa, from the silly ostrich feathers perched atop her head to the tiny pink satin slippers peeking out from beneath her hem. “Miss Rose, my apologies. I must confess that I’d not expected your chaperone to dress so…”

“Becomingly?” she offered.

“Inappropriately,” he stated succinctly.

“Oh, come, Your Grace. I find your custom of chaperones tedious, and this way I can simply pretend I’m going out with a friend and a gentleman.” She winked. “Much easier to escape the watchful eye of a friend, don’t you find?”

Her eyes and the moue of her mouth held promises of mischief not spoken. He couldn’t understand why he wasn’t enthralled with the prospect.

“If we do not get on our way, we shall be tardy and miss the beginning of the opera,” he pointed out.

She laughed lightly. “I daresay that my interest in the opera is such that it has never bothered me in the least to miss the beginning.”

“If you have no interest in the opera, then why did you consent to accompany me?”

She wound her arm around his. “Why because I have an interest in you, Your Grace.”

He felt the heat intensify at his neck and darted a glance at Lady Louisa. She was studying a glove
as though she’d never before worn one, and he couldn’t help but realize how awkward it was to be a chaperone—a young chaperone—when a couple was engaged in a courting ritual.

“We should be off,” he announced, and thought Lady Louisa looked as relieved as he felt.

The footman opened the door, and the ladies preceded Hawk into the night. Lady Louisa’s gown dipped almost as low in the back as it did in the front, and with the help of the gas lamps bordering the walk, he could make out the line of her spine. He’d always favored a lady’s neck, her shoulders, trailing his mouth along her spine, feeling her shiver beneath him. He was in a frightfully uncomfortable state by the time they reached his coach. He helped Miss Rose inside, then held his hand out to Lady Louisa. He seemed unable to stop himself from squeezing her fingers, halting her progress.

“I don’t believe I’ve ever seen you look quite so lovely,” he said quietly.

Her eyes widened, and she ducked her head as though suddenly embarrassed. “My charges are determined that I should reap the benefits of living within their household. My attire was their idea, not mine.”

“So you did not wish to take my breath away?”

She seemed momentarily flummoxed. Not that he could blame her. What had he been thinking to reveal that sentiment?

“Quite honestly,” she finally said, “my only thought was to do whatever necessary to get
Jenny down the stairs. She is quite headstrong.”

“Not unlike you.”

“I prefer to think of myself as determined.”

“Are you two coming?” Jenny called out. “I thought we were in a hurry.”

Indeed he was most anxious to get this night over with. He helped Louisa into the coach, then made his own way inside, taking the seat opposite them so he traveled backward. A footman closed the door, and before Hawkhurst had taken a breath, the coach was on its way.

It irritated him that he could smell Louisa so distinctly, that he was so much more aware of her. He should have invited both sisters; then perhaps they could have left the blasted chaperone at home.

“You don’t strike me as a man who would enjoy the opera,” Jenny said, suddenly bursting into his thoughts with a voice much too loud for his tastes. It was the way of these Americans to speak as though the entire world wished to hear what they had to say.

“I inherited the box from my father. My mother enjoys the opera.”

“Oh, is she in London then?”

“No, she prefers the country, but I keep the box available for when she might come to the city.”

“It seems you are a most thoughtful son, much more so than my brother, I daresay.”

He shifted his gaze to Louisa. She was staring out the window, her profile limned by the light from the streetlamps. He’d never sought to
seduce a woman who brought a chaperone along. It was a rather uncomfortable endeavor.

He turned his attention back to Jenny. It was difficult to tell in the shadowy confines of his coach, but it seemed she was watching him quite intently. He wondered if his appearance pleased her. Then he cursed himself for caring. She wanted only his title. It was all he intended to offer.

“I was unaware you had a brother,” he said, only because the silence stretching out between them was beginning to test his patience.

“Yes, Jeremy. He’s twenty-eight. Unfortunately, I don’t see him nearly often enough. He spends a good deal of his time traveling. He just returned from a lengthy sojourn in Europe.”

“How fortunate for him that he is in a position to do as he pleases.”

“You are not in a position such as that, are you, Your Grace?” she asked.

“No, Miss Rose, I am not.”

“Neither am I. I find that to be most unfortunate. What would you do if you
could
do as you pleased?”

“It is not so much what I would do as what I would not do. I would not marry.”

“Truly? My brother is of the same mind. I don’t understand. Why do men abhor the thought of marriage do you suppose?”

“Why do women adore it so?” he countered.