How to Beguile a Duke (Entangled Scandalous) (9 page)

Catherine looked up from the journal. There was hodgepodge of nationalities in the Bahamas and New Orleans, but she didn’t think that was the case in England, especially outside of London. Raising her hands toward the ceiling, she stretched and her stomach rumbled. It seemed much too late to ring for food. She had no doubt the staff would answer, but those who worked in the kitchens woke especially early and she didn’t wish to disturb them.

A trip to the kitchens would give her a chance to clear her head.

After hopping off the bed, she headed for the door. Cay followed hopefully. She patted him on the head. “I’m sorry, darling, but you must stay here.” She didn’t wish for him to wake anyone, and she wasn’t sure how Lady Hartley would feel about a dog in her kitchens.

Moving quickly, she padded down the staircase. Light shone around the door to the library. As she reached the bottom of the staircase, the words of a conversation reached her.

“Are you certain this was a wise decision?” Lord Hartley asked.

“In what respect?” asked Lady Hartley.

“Are you not at all concerned that having her here will hurt Jane’s chances of making a match this season?”

Catherine’s stomach clenched. They were speaking of her.

“No, my dear, I am not. Even considering the incident at the opera. She is a lovely, well-behaved girl, and Jane is thrilled to have her company. My goodness, the Duke of Boulstridge even visited her in our box this evening. If that isn’t a sign of acceptance by society, then I don’t know what is.”

“You know I sought him out at my club earlier today and invited him to come meet her. Even explained her connection to Walsley Manor. He only did it to be polite.”

“Be that as it may, his attention attracted the notice of others who have no notion of the reason for his appearance.”

Thank heavens Lady Hartley hadn’t found out about her visit to Walsley Manor. In retrospect, it had been a bad decision on her part.

She would
have
to follow the rules of English society, both for Jane’s sake and to win Walsley. The duke had been correct about her behavior. Overcome with guilt for eavesdropping and no longer hungry, she turned to tread back up the staircase, her limbs now heavy with fatigue and guilt. She would not make such a foolish mistake again.

Chapter Six

It was unusual for him to receive a summons from his mother. Nick was curious to find out how she had discovered he was in town.

It was also unusual for the warm, dry weather to last for more than a day. Once again, he found himself walking through Mayfair, this time to his mother’s town house, which he had purchased for her the day his father died. It had been his first official act as the Duke of Boulstridge. His second had been to give his father’s mistress du jour twenty-four hours to vacate Boulstridge House, which he thought was rather generous.

Luckily it was still early and most of the
ton
was abed, which suited him well.

Much like Boulstridge House, the door to Thornbury Place opened to admit him before he reached the proximity necessary to knock. Handing his cloak to the butler, he headed for the parlor, where his mother was hopefully still at breakfast.

“Good morning, my dear.” She smiled and waved at the sideboard. “I figured you would be hungry.”

He pressed a kiss to her forehead before piling food onto a plate and joining her at a small table. What he ate wasn’t as important as filling the emptiness. His mother was his only family, but as much as he loved her, even she could not fill the hollow space of the family he would never have.

She spread jam on her toast and watched as he shoveled eggs into his mouth. “Why is it that I had to discover that you were in town from Justin? You couldn’t spare even a moment to let me know you were here?”

He finished the eggs and wiped his mouth with his napkin before responding. “My apologies. My plans were made in haste, and I hadn’t realized word of my arrival had already reached you. I planned to call on you this afternoon, in fact.”

“You rarely do anything in haste. What prompted your return?”

He studied her. “Before we get to that, I should like to know what motivated your request to see me this morning.”

“Sarah visited yesterday and informed me that you were to meet with them at the opera.”

“I see.” He leaned back in the chair. “My apologies for not making you my first priority, but Justin and I have been conversing about an issue at Boulstridge Hall, so I wanted to make my presence in London known to him.”

“That is understandable.” She busied herself with the food on her plate, knowing that he would fill in the information she was looking for if she remained silent. It was, after all, a trick he had learned from her.

“Truly, I only arrived the night before last.” He folded his hands over his stomach. “I find that I need your help with a…situation that has arisen.” His mother was the one person he trusted implicitly.

“Of course.” She set her napkin on the table. “Shall we move to more comfortable seating?”

He followed her to the parlor and sat across from her on a settee. “A young lady, Miss Malboeuf, called upon me at Walsley Manor. Is the name at all familiar to you?”

Her eyes narrowed. “I don’t believe so. Should it be?”

“Her father is Claude Malboeuf, a pirate turned legitimate merchant who runs a shipping corporation out of New Orleans.”

She sat up straight. “Oh my. She is the daughter of a pirate? What business could she have with you?”

“Save your surprise until you hear the rest.” He crossed his ankle over his knee and continued. “Her mother is Helena Walsley, the daughter of the second to last Viscount Walsley to occupy the house.”

Staring at him with wide eyes, she opened and then closed her mouth without saying anything.

“Ponder that for another few days and you’ll understand my position. The blasted woman wants to purchase Walsley Manor from me, but of course I refused. She is now here in London, planning to participate in the season.”

She filled her cheeks with air and slowly released it. “How…difficult. You put so much time and effort into restoring Walsley. But I also understand why she would wish to have it back in her family. What a situation to find yourself in.”

He raised his brows. “There is no situation. The house is mine, and I shall not sell it.” Unless, of course, he lost their bet. But that was extremely unlikely to occur, especially after she wielded her knife at the Theatre Royale.

She clasped her hands together. “How disappointing for Miss Malboeuf. She traveled all the way from the New World only to be denied.”

He snorted. “She is not the sort of girl to give up easily.”

“How interesting. With her background, do you think she will be accepted into society?”

He shrugged. “She attended the opera last night. Hartley’s wife is her sponsor.”

Patting a loose lock of hair into place, she said, “Oh, with the Hartleys guiding her she should do well. I hope so for their sake, since their daughter is also out.”

“It becomes even more interesting. Not knowing that she had called upon me in Derbyshire, Hartley approached me at White’s yesterday afternoon to arrange for us to be introduced at the opera. He invited me to make her acquaintance in their box last night.”

She leaned back against the settee. “You had time to waste at your club yesterday afternoon, but you were too busy to inform your own mother that you were in town?”

“I hadn’t realized you were sitting around, anxiously awaiting my arrival.”

She reached across and slapped his hand. “I do not know where I went wrong with you. Truly.” But there was no heat in her words. “Then she…that is…the Hartleys are unaware of her visit to Derbyshire?”

“So it would seem. I’m willing to give her the benefit of the doubt. Perhaps she had hoped to purchase the estate prior to going to London. It may have made sense depending upon where her ship landed.”

“You refused to sell Walsley, and she simply left for London?”

He shrugged. “More or less.”

She raised her brows. “What aren’t you telling me?”

He stood and paced toward the front of the room. “She was very…challenging to deal with. She kept pushing me to sell, and I suspect she will continue to harass me until I either give in or die.”

“And?”

“I offered her a wager. If she is able to secure a proposal of marriage from a titled member of the
ton
, I will sell Walsley to her.”

She lifted her brows. “Aren’t you worried that she will win the wager?”

He shook his head. “Not in the slightest.” At least, not really. Sure, she was gorgeous and wealthy, which was bound to attract fortune hunters, but she didn’t seem the sort to allow someone to take advantage of her. The most likely result was that she would drive them away before they could make her an offer.

“She’s that uncivilized?”

He searched for the right word to describe her. “Not exactly. She’s…different. She has the wealth and poise to carry it off, but I don’t think she’ll be able to keep her true self hidden. Unconventional is an understatement.”

She clapped her hands together. “I can’t wait to meet her.”

“In that case, may I escort you to the Cortland ball tonight?”

“I would be delighted.”

She stood, and he followed suit. He kissed her cheek. “I’m sorry I didn’t visit you sooner.”

“I wouldn’t have been at home if you had called yesterday afternoon anyway.”

He laughed. She liked to tease him, but he knew she also needed the reassurance that he would always be available to her. Another of the many factors that had contributed to his decision not to marry. He said his good-byes and began the short walk home. Justin had sent a sheaf of papers and accounts for him to review.

The streets were still mostly deserted. He wondered what Miss Malboeuf was up to. He suspected she was an early riser like himself as she didn’t seem the sort to waste time that could be put to good use. She was quite enticing, but he remained convinced she would be unable to secure a match. Once her background was revealed, no one would offer for her. ’Twas a shame, but that was the way of the privileged. He was more than sympathetic to the pain she would experience when she was ridiculed by society, but the sooner she learned the ways of the
ton
, the better it would be for both of them.

…

Catherine twirled to get a glimpse of the back of her gown.
Magnifique
. The perfect gown for her first ball. Madame Rouillard had been correct about the green silk being her color. Now all she had to do was remember the steps to the dances.

She wasn’t worried about the quadrille. That she could do in her sleep, but her experience with most of the others was limited to her instructor. Perhaps she would require refreshment whenever a waltz began. Oh, but what if no one asked her to dance? Surely Lady Hartley would introduce her to men who would ask her to dance, even if only to be polite.

“There you are,” Jane said. They had gone to the retiring room so Jane could repair a small flaw with her coiffure. “Are you ready to join the ball?”

“As ready as I’m ever going to be.” She drew in a deep breath and released it slowly.

Jane laughed. “You’ll be fine. In fact, in that gown, you’ll be the talk of the ball.”

“That’s what I’m afraid of. Not because of the gown, but because of my background. I want to blend in with the crowd, not stand out.” She ran her finger over the diamonds on her necklace. Perhaps she had overdone it. But since she wasn’t titled, she intended to show off her other attribute. Wealth.

Jane stepped in front of her and met her eyes. “Catherine, you will always stand out, no matter what you wear or whom you are with. It’s not your fault. It’s just who you are. You’ll see.” She waved her hand toward the door. “Come on, let’s go.”

Although still thinking it would be better to blend in, Catherine allowed Jane to tow her toward the ballroom.

Lady Hartley smiled as they approached her. She had gathered with the other mothers who were chaperoning their unmarried daughters and waiting for the dancing to begin. “I have decided that rather than seek out introductions, we shall remain here and let the gentlemen come to us. I am certain both of you will be in great demand.”

Catherine took another deep breath and forced herself to remain still. She spotted the Duke of Boulstridge across the ballroom escorting a lady who could only be his mother. He must have inherited his size from his father because the top of her head barely reached his shoulder, but the resemblance was unmistakable. Her bearing reminded Catherine a bit of her own mother, and a wave of longing for her family crashed against her heart. A letter announcing the birth of the baby should arrive at any time.

Now was not the time to rethink the timing of her trip to England. At twenty, she was already nearing the age where she would be considered on the shelf, and a delay would have caused her to miss the season. Coming by herself was the right decision, despite her loneliness.

The members of a string quartet paraded through the ballroom and began to set up in the opposite corner, and Lord Cavanaugh appeared almost immediately. “Lady Hartley, Lady Jane, Miss Malboeuf, how lovely to see you this evening.” He bowed to them. “Lady Jane, would you do me the honor of being my partner for the first dance?”

Jane’s joy shone in her eyes. “I would be honored, my lord.”

He led Jane to the middle of the room and others soon joined them in anticipation of the first dance.

As the musicians warmed up, Catherine struggled to maintain a smile and keep her shoulders from slumping. So far no one had come to seek an introduction. That meant her options for a dance partner were Lord Cavanaugh, who was already engaged for the first dance, and the Duke of Boulstridge, who, in light of their bet, was unlikely to dance with her at all.

Catherine took a discrete step toward Lady Hartley, hoping she would not be the only eligible lady of marriageable age who had not been asked to participate in the opening dance. The musicians were in position. She ran the pad of her thumb over the diamonds at her throat.

“Miss Malboeuf.” The duke approached from behind her. She whirled to face him. “Would you care to dance?”

His nearness left her breathless. She hadn’t expected him, of all people, to come to her rescue. Carefully schooling her features, she said, “I would be delighted, Your Grace.” Lady Hartley smiled her approval.

He took her hand, sending a shiver of awareness through her, and led her toward the other dancers. Though they stood several inches apart, linked only by their hands, heat emanated from him. He suddenly seemed much larger than she remembered.

“How are you enjoying your first London ball, Miss Malboeuf?” he asked.

“Very much, Your Grace.” The quadrille air of
L’Horatia
began and they moved all round to the right, then to the left. The duke flashed her a wry smile as he took his turn performing the
balancez
and turned Catherine around with both hands. His touch sent a jolt through her. Their eyes met as she completed the turn. Despite having executed the steps properly, she suddenly felt awkward.

As the next couple performed the same steps, she spoke to fill the silence. “Your Grace, I must admit I am confused as to your strategy.”

He raised one brow. “What strategy would that be, Miss Malboeuf?”

She shifted her eyes toward him. “Why, your strategy to win our wager, of course. Showing your favor by dancing with me does not seem in keeping with your plan of action.”

“Perhaps I am not as cunning as you think.”

She shook her head. “No, that’s not it.”