How to Dazzle a Duke (43 page)

I’m to receive porcelains every week, I must have a proper

place for them, mustn’t I? Trust you to think of it, Penelope. But

where are all these porcelains and black lacquer cabinets coming

from? Not the shops?”

“Oh, no,” Penelope said. “From the Elliots, the American

branch of the family, though Lord Cranleigh did have a store of

exotic items packed away, a legacy of his travels abroad. But two

Elliot ships have come in, just two days ago from New York and

six days ago en route from China. You can imagine the joy in the

house, having such an impromptu reunion, and just in time for

the wedding.”

“Yes, I can imagine,” Sophia said, searching the room with

her eyes. “And what did you think of the Elliots?”

“Not at all what I should have expected,” Penelope said,

toying with the end of a black curl. “I have little experience of

Americans, none really outside of your nephews.”

“Which would not be at all the same, would it?” Sophia said

lightly.

“No, I don’t suppose it would,” Penelope said, nodding, con

sidering. “But where are the men of your family? I know they

were invited.”

“Gone off to France, darling, along with all the rest. My

brother, my son, my nephews, even Lord Hawksworth. Didn’t

Amelia tell you?”

“I don’t think she knows,” Penelope whispered, looking across

the vast room to where Amelia stood with Louisa, her cousin and

sister-in-law by marriage. “They don’t get on very well, from

what I understand. My brother George is so reasonable and so

affable compared to hers, from what I gather.”

“Oh, don’t believe everything you hear, darling. I think that

once you’ve become closely acquainted with Lord Hawksworth

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you will find him a most affable man. Sometimes sisters do not

see their brothers in the most fl attering light.”

“Perhaps because they so seldom stand in one,” Penelope said

abruptly, and then laughed. “Oh, but there are the Elliots. Have

you met them? I’ll introduce you, shall I? I do think you’ll get on

well together, both being Americans as you are.”

Sophia could only look at Penelope, convinced she meant her

words and wondering how she could be so uninformed. Youth

again, she supposed. Youth was a vast excuse and covered so

many sins; it was extremely unfortunate that it did not last a

lifetime.

“Before I must share you,” Penelope said, “I did want to make

certain that you received proper payment in agreement of our

bargain. My father did make mention of it, telling me that he was

taking care of it all, but I did want to make certain. You did make

it all possible, Lady Dalby. I shall never forget it, or you.”

Sophia looked deeply into Penelope’s black eyes, eyes so like

her own, yet sheltered in a way that Sophia had never been.

There was a loveliness to innocence, to shelter and protection

and ignorance as to how difficult life could become so very

quickly. Perhaps the loveliness of innocence was rooted in its

very fragility. Certainly, it was to be treasured for as long as it

lasted.

“That is most kind of you to say, Penelope. I shall never

forget you and this moment either. Rest assured, I have been

compensated. Lord Prestwick is as honorable and forthright as

his daughter.”

Prestwick, true to their bargain, had sent his man round with

the deed to the land on Stretton Street that morning. The plot on

Stretton Street was partly in answer to the very last remnant of

her innocence being stripped from her so long ago.

That land was now hers. Lord Westlin had wanted it, and she

had it. Delicious. But truly, annoying Westlin was merely a side

How to Daz zle a Duke

315

issue, a pleasurable one, but still a side issue. The plot bordered

the entire length of Devonshire House, which was a lovely and

well-deserved irony. She had boxed them in, quite as fully as she

had been boxed in when she’d arrived in London those many

years ago, young and alone and in need of family.

Family by way of the Spencers had been denied her.

As Georgiana Spencer had married the Duke of Devonshire,

and as the duke was not at all pleased with his wife for her defi

ciency in producing an heir, taking in a young half-breed from

America had been deemed a risk the Spencers were not willing

to take. The duke must be appeased, however and whenever pos

sible. Sophia had been refused admittance, and so she had been

thrown back upon the streets of London to make her way as best

she could.

And so she had made her way as best she could, and she had

done very well at it.

She was having her revenge in well-managed bites, and there

was nothing anyone could do to stop her.

It was as Penelope was leading her through the throng toward

where the Elliots were standing, looking quite defi nitely Ameri

can in their stance and general bearing, that Lord Ruan caught

her eye from across the room and began to move in the same

general direction.

Lord Ruan, quite unexpectedly, had not parked himself upon

her doorstep in the past four weeks, but had been scarcely seen.

She had wondered at it initially, having thought they were surely

on their way to a most pleasant dalliance, and then she had put

him from her mind. Seeing him now thrust him very forcibly

back into her thoughts and into her path. She could not quite

decide how she felt about that, though she did feel a slight quick

ening in her breathing and a single, weak flutter in her heart.

He was a most stellar-looking man with quite a unique air

about him. There was that. That alone would have been enough,

316 CLAUDIA DAIN

but that he had another more mysterious quality about him,

something of immense strength and perhaps even sorrow

shading his piercing green eyes. Well. It was enough to intrigue

any woman.

And then the Elliots were before her and Penelope was man

aging the introductions quite nicely, until things skipped slightly

out of her hands, as things were wont to do when one did not

quite know the players in the game as well as one might have

done.

“Lady Dalby,” Captain Jedidiah Elliot said, his grey blue eyes

sparkling. “Sophia. It is good to see you again.”

“You know each other?” Penelope said just as Iveston came

up behind her and put a hand upon her waist. She leaned into

the pressure of his hand slightly. It was utterly charming.

“I’ve heard stories about Sophia, Lady Dalby, all my life,”

Jedidiah replied.

“Darling, I can’t possibly be that old,” Sophia said serenely.

“We met briefly two years ago, when Captain Elliot was on his

return from his first trip to China. But I have not had the pleasure

of meeting the other Elliots. Mr. Joel Elliot, is it?”

“It is, ma’am,” he answered, bowing curtly, a huge smile

on his face. “Though it’s captain as well. My first ship, my fi rst

time in a London port, my first meeting of the famous Sophia

Dalby.”

Whereas Jedidiah, older than his brother by a year, was tall

and of angular frame, Joel was more muscular and broader of

shoulder. Jedidiah was possessed of straight brown hair that had

a clear tendency to be shot with blond streaks, whilst his brother

had dark brown curling hair. Jedidiah had grey blue eyes, quite

like the seas off Ireland, and Joel a darkly rich brown. One would

suppose that they were not of the same mother and father, yet

they were. It was merely that Jedidiah had his mother’s coloring,

very much in keeping with Molly, the Duchess of Hyde’s color

How to Daz zle a Duke

317

ing, and as Sally Elliot was Molly’s sister, the situation was well

explained. Joel looked very much like his father. But it was the

third Elliot who had captured Sophia’s full attention. She had not

expected her.

“My sister, Miss Jane Elliot,” Joel said with a cocking of his

head. “She insisted that as I was coming to London she be al

lowed to grab a ride across. I’m going to leave her here while I

go on to China. She was going to spend a few months with Aunt

Molly, perhaps see a bit of England, and then return to New York

on the first Elliot ship. Now that Jed’s here, she’ll be going back

sooner than any of us thought.”

“And I’m to suffer for it,” Miss Jane Elliot said. She was quite

stunningly beautiful with softly curling dark brown hair and

huge dark brown eyes. There was something quite poetic about

her brow and the angle of her nose was an artist’s dream. “I

thought I might be here for at least part of the Season, but we had

a leak below decks on the larboard and had to stop at Nantucket

for repairs. Then we spent two weeks in the Azores, and now I’ve

come to find the Season is nearly over and Jed ready to ferry me

off. Arriving for Iveston and Penelope’s wedding has been a won

derful thrill, but it seems that it’s all that’s allowed me.”

“How absurd,” Sophia said. “I know Molly would love to have

you for a year. There is no need to rush off simply because your

brothers must.”

“We promised our father,” Jedidiah said. He was the more

serious of the two, that much was obvious.

“And your mother, too, I should expect,” Sophia said, “but

they could hardly have known that Miss Elliot would not have

any time at all to experience the joys and intrigues of London

Society.”

“Intrigues?” Miss Elliot asked.

“Joys?” Captain Joel asked.

“Father?” Captain Jedidiah reminded.

318 CLAUDIA DAIN

“There isn’t much use in mentioning fathers to Lady Dalby,”

Iveston said. “She simply ignores their existence when there is

an intrigue at her fi ngertips.”

“Lord Iveston, you are utterly wrong,” Sophia said, smiling.

“I never ignore fathers. I give them most careful and most

studious attention, and then I do what I want with their tacit

approval, even if their knowledge of what they are approving

is a bit faulty.”

Penelope coughed lightly and looked at the fl oor.

“I could never achieve Father’s approval,” Miss Elliot said.

“He’s not here and Jed won’t move from his promise. I’ve

tried.”

“I haven’t tried,” Sophia said softly, smiling at Jedidiah.

Jedidiah shook his head repeatedly, but he smiled slightly in

return.

It was all but settled. Jane would stay in England, and her

brothers would sail across the seas without her.

6

THE Duke of Edenham had escorted his sister Katherine to the

wedding. Katherine, he was pleased to see, was chatting happily

with Molly, the Duchess of Hyde, who was glowing with happi

ness. Small wonder with Iveston finally married. He wasn’t sure

what had happened there, but he knew Sophia Dalby had been

at the heart of it. Good for her. If managing to get the diffi cult

ones married entertained her, there were worse things. Certainly

everyone seemed happy enough with the outcome. He could

hardly quibble with happiness.

Edenham strolled the edges of the red reception room, ex

changing a word or two with everyone there, knowing he was

doing exactly what Sophia would want him to do and not able to

stop himself. She was correct. He had spent too much time in

mourning, as had Katherine. It was unhealthy, and it bred gossip.

How to Daz zle a Duke

319

He’d had far too much of gossip. Being a duke at a young age,

he’d been gossiped about, naturally. And the gossip had been of

the natural type. He’d barely noticed it. But upon the death of

wife after wife, and even his child with his last wife, both dying

in the same bed, in the same hour, the gossip had grown teeth

and horns.

He did not like being talked of. He did not like being stared

at. He did not like being thought of as the duke who killed his

wives.

He had not killed his wives. They had died. People died every

day. It was only that more of his people died than any other, and

on more days.

Katherine’s situation hardly helped matters. Her husband had

been profligate and had, as these things went, been killed in a

duel. And so they found themselves.

Hiding away did nothing to stop it. Very well, then. He and

Katherine would face it. And by facing it, they would kill it.

Let the gossips talk of that, of how they, between them, killed

every rumor circling their family name.

“Lord Dutton, how good to see you,” Edenham said

pleasantly.

“Edenham,” Dutton said, his eyes slightly glassy. The rumor

of Dutton was that he was again becoming a fi ve-bottle-a-day

man with energetic ambition. It looked to be entirely true. “A

sprawling affair, isn’t it? Not at all like the backstreet intimacy of

Staverton’s marriage to Mrs. Warren Tuesday last.”

“I suppose not. As this is a first marriage for both, and as

Iveston is the heir apparent, I think that must explain it.”

“I suppose it must,” Dutton said, taking a long drink from his

glass. Port wine.

“You attended the Staverton wedding?”