A Summons From the Duke

A Summons From the Duke

Jerrica Knight-Catania

Lilia Birney

Samantha Grace

Copyright © 2011 by Jerrica Knight-Catania, Lilia Birney, Samantha Grace

Cover design by Lily Smith

All rights reserved. No part of this book may be reproduced in any form by any electronic or mechanical means—except in the case of brief quotations embodied in critical articles or reviews—without written permission.

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

Dedication

To my husband, Eric -- Thank you for knocking me up at just the right time to have a Christmas baby! Best present ever! I love you!

And to Ava Stone – You’re a wonderful friend, and collaborating with you has been one of the highlights of my writing career.

~ Jerrica

~ 1 ~

Lady Isabel Whitton despised a house party. But she particularly despised house parties that took place in her own house. It was unfortunate she didn’t have a say in the matter, being only nineteen years of age, and seeing that she sat rather low on the proverbial totem pole at Danby Castle. She had the unfortunate luck to have the heir to the dukedom for a father, which meant her family resided at the ducal estate. With the duke.

Oh, she loved her grandpapa, and her parents and siblings too, of course. She just wished it could always be
just them
. She didn’t care to see her home overrun with her multitude of cousins. They would surely try to occupy her favorite spots in the house and make it impossible for her to enjoy reading in peace and quiet.

Blast, but she hated distractions! They were not conducive to retaining the information one read within the pages of a book, and if there was one thing Isabel valued, it was knowledge. She absolutely relished knowing things. Things that most people didn’t know. It was such a great deal of fun to see the look on her sister’s face when she said things like, “Dear, sweet Emma. That ribbon is not simply yellow, it is jonquil. A flower from the genus
Narcissus
, though you might know it better as a daffodil—”

At which point her dear, sweet twin sister Emma, would usually cut her off with a grunt and a huff and say something like, “I didn’t
ask
for a horticulture lesson, Isabel.”

At which point Isabel would return the huff and leave the room, affronted and appalled that her sister did not share her love of knowledge. Not that Emma wasn’t smart. Quite the contrary. She always excelled in their lessons; she just didn’t care to go
beyond
their lessons, academically speaking. No, she believed in being “well-rounded.” Isabel did not, which probably explained why she failed miserably at things like the pianoforte, dancing and—God save her—needlepoint. Mama was forever chastising her for refusing to take her nose out of her books. She would tsk and shake her head. Isabel’s mother worried about her future state of matrimony based on the fact that she was completely tone deaf, lacked any sense of rhythm whatsoever, and couldn’t thread a needle properly if her life depended on it.

Isabel hated to disappoint, but if it came down to the choice between disappointing someone else and disappointing herself, she rather thought it was better to disappoint someone else, since she would have to live with herself the rest of her life.

“
Izzy, are you paying attention at all?”

Emma’s exasperated voice brought Isabel from her thoughts. “Shall I tell you what you want to hear or shall I tell you the truth?”

Emma rolled her eyes. “Never mind. I shouldn’t expect you to help me with matters of the heart, should I?”

Isabel reared back a bit. “What is that supposed to mean?”

“
It means that you’re far too sensible to ever let love cloud your vision.”

That was true. “Well, why should I? Love is a horrible emotion that makes people do ridiculous things. Like send fake letters to their brother’s friends.”

“
Just because you don’t care for the idea of love and romance doesn’t mean you have to poke fun at those who do.”

“
I’m not poking fun,” Isabel said, tilting her chin up indignantly. “I’m just being…sensible.” Silence fell between them. Isabel hated silence. “Besides, what you wear today is hardly a matter of the heart.”

“
If you’re not going to be helpful, you might as well leave.” Emma’s tone held censure, and Isabel felt properly chastised by her sister.

“
Fine.” Isabel rose and crossed to the armoire where Emma stood staring at more than a dozen dresses and gowns. “What about this one?”

“
Don’t be silly, I’ll freeze to death.”

Isabel gave her a wry smile. “Isn’t that the point? To inspire a chivalrous act from your dear Lord Heathfield? Surely he will offer to warm you if you’re turning blue.”

Finally, a smile appeared on her sister’s lips. “You are truly ridiculous sometimes, you know?”

Isabel shrugged. “Yes, I know. Ridiculous, but brilliant nonetheless.”

Emma ignored her last statement and moved on. “And what will
you
wear today?”

“
It doesn’t really matter, does it? A houseful of cousins is certainly not equivalent to the marriage mart.” Her eyes scanned the multitude of fabrics hanging before her and settled on a long-sleeved cotton gown with a high waist and a high neck.”

Emma gasped. “You can’t wear
that
! You’ll look like a maid…or a spinster at the very least.”

“
Then it’s perfect!” Isabel smiled wide at her sister and then swept from the room to begin getting ready for the day.

No one had arrived yet, thank the good Lord, but the estimable Lord Heathfield would arrive this afternoon. Her sister’s chicanery—forging a letter from their brother Andrew to his good friend, Lord Heathfield, inviting him to spend Christmas at Danby Castle—had actually worked, or at least Emma was certain it had. Isabel’s twin was equally certain her dashing paragon would arrive this very day and planned to spend her afternoon in the castle’s highest turret to await her one true love’s arrival. Nonsense, all of it.

But no matter what, Isabel loved her sister and would be there to offer her full support as she attempted to woo the man to her bosom. She only hoped it would happen sooner than later, as Isabel was eager to return to her books. She had begun reading about the mating rituals of ancient mammals recently and found the subject fascinating. But since the ancient mammals were probably not going anywhere, Isabel decided she could give up a day or two of study in order to assist in the mating ritual of her dear twin sister.

However, when Isabel arrived in the drawing room that afternoon in search of Emma, she was met with an unwelcome visitor. One she knew for certain had not been invited to Danby Castle for the holiday.

“
And just who are you?” she asked of the unkempt and uninvited guest who lounged on the chaise as if he owned it.

“
That does seem to be the question of hour,” he said as he rose from his spot and bowed to her.

She crossed her arms over her chest and challenged him with a question she already knew the answer to. “Are you one of our absentee cousins come home for the holidays? You don’t look like a Whitton.”

He shook his unruly head of blond hair. “Damien Lockwell. I’m a friend of Lord Hardwick’s. He invited Lord Heathfield and me to Danby Castle for Christmas.”

Isabel looked to Emma, who shrugged in response. “
Drew
invited you? Why do I find that hard to believe?”

“
Isabel!” Father’s voice boomed from the threshold, causing Isabel to jump slightly. But whatever it was he had meant to say to her was forgotten when he realized there were guests. “I didn’t know we had visitors. Heathfield, is that you?”

Heathfield rose from his spot to shake Father’s hand. “Good to see you, Lord Norland. It has been an age.” He gestured to his friend with a cock of his head. “Are you acquainted with Mr. Lockwell?”

Father nodded. “Not formally. You’re one of Totterdown’s lads, aren’t you?”

“
Indeed,” the scoundrel replied. “Third son, to be exact. I attended Eton with Drew and Heath.”

“
Did you?” Father grew uncomfortable at the mention of Andrew.

“
Drew invited…the
two
of us to spend the holidays here at the castle,” Heathfield added.

“
You’ve heard from Andrew?” Father seemed surprised at this, and Isabel wondered why.

“
Well—” Emma ran to father’s side— “I’m certain Drew was simply being solicitous since Lord Heathfield would be all alone for Christmas otherwise.”

“
That did appear to be his concern,” Heathfield said.

Father sighed with relief. “I am glad to hear it. Edgeworth must have located him in France, then.”

“
Edgeworth?” Emma echoed. “Grandpapa sent him to France? How very dangerous. When did he leave, Papa?”

“
Nothing for you to worry about, my dear.” Then he turned his attention back to Heath and Damien. “I do have a bit of business to attend to. I’m certain my aunt—” he glanced at Auntie, who still hadn’t acknowledge anyone’s presence— “and my daughters can keep you gentlemen entertained.”