How to Dazzle a Duke (8 page)

deed, you have quite the look of a seaman about you, which is

nearly fatally dashing, as I’m sure you must know.”

Cranleigh, remarkably, looked almost flushed. Why, was he

blushing
?

“Amelia has said something very much like,” Cranleigh said

in a hoarse undertone.

“Have you met our uncle Timothy?” Iveston asked Sophia. “He

runs his four ships out of New York. We see him rarely, for obvious

reasons, first and foremost being that he is so often upon the sea.”

“How gracious you are, Lord Iveston, for surely you could

have argued that the most obvious reason was that he was an

American colonial in revolt against his king,” Sophia said pleas

antly. “It is so refreshing to see the bonds of family hold, even

against the backdrop of war. But, to answer your question, I met

Mr. Timothy Elliot only once, in New York, as it happens, and

his lovely wife, Sally, was kindness itself. Is she well, do you

know? I imagine the duchess must miss her profoundly.”

50 CLAUDIA DAIN

Of course, Penelope was eating it all up with a spoon. Their

Upper Brook Street house was on let from the Elliots, who had

it from the Hydes, which was hardly a coincidence. If one were

going to lease a house, certainly it was wise to do so with a

house that belonged to a duke. Sally Elliot and Molly Hyde were

sisters, that much she had just learned. She knew the families

were somehow related, but until now, had not puzzled out how.

“If she does, she does not speak of it,” Cranleigh said. He did

have the habit of speaking for Iveston, which was clearly some

thing of a necessity. Iveston might be a bit slow in the head; it

would certainly explain why he was so rarely out in Society

and why he rarely spoke when he was. “There is an Elliot ship

due any day now, and quite unexpectedly, Amelia has declared

that she is for a sea voyage. I can but oblige her.”

Sophia smiled at Cranleigh in considerable warmth and said,

“Unexpectedly? You are too modest, Lord Cranleigh. I do ap

plaud you, however. Any man who obliges his wife only rises in

my estimation.”

“I should think so,” Edenham said with a good-natured smirk.

“What sort of woman would you be to not react so? But it is not

always in a woman’s best interest to be obliged. I have been in

structed that following such a course, over too long a stretch of

ground, leads to coddling, which is never to be desired.”

Oh, Lord, but he was going to be a torment to her good

nature.

Sophia laughed in Edenham’s face. Penelope was secretly and

enormously delighted. Oh, to be married and widowed so that

she could then do whatever she wanted!

“Instructed? By whom, I should like to know?” Sophia de

manded.

“By my mother,” Edenham said solemnly, though his brown

eyes were twinkling suspiciously.

“Oh, very well then. I’m certain your mother had her own

How to Daz zle a Duke

51

good reasons for instructing her son so,” Sophia said brightly.

“And has the Duchess of Hyde instructed her sons in like man

ner?” she asked Cranleigh and Iveston.

Penelope, as was perfectly logical, expected Cranleigh to an

swer. They had the same mother, and Iveston was the elder and

the heir apparent, but Cranleigh was the bolder of the two. Quite

obviously. She wasn’t supposed to know about such things, but it

was nearly common knowledge that Cranleigh had
breached
de

corum, and by that she meant Amelia, in the mews behind

Aldreth House. They had been married the next day, but that

didn’t take the taint off, did it?

To lose one’s virtue in a horse stall . . . that took the shine off

what everyone was whispering was a love match.

Penelope indulged in some minor head shaking. This is what

happened to girls who lost their heads, something she was en

tirely certain she was incapable of doing. It was why she was

going to be a duchess. She was simply too clear about her goals

and too logical to be sidestepped.

A horse stall, indeed. The smell alone would have stopped her

from making such a foolish decision within the fi rst minute.

“The duchess,” Iveston said
fi rmly
, which was shock enough,

“has instructed her sons that it is a woman’s duty to oblige a

man upon the hour, if he so desires it, and so she instructs the

duke upon the half hour where and when his desire is to be fi xed.

The duke, obliging her in increments, which she may well en

dure, fi nds no fault with the arrangement.”

Well.
How perfectly odious. The man gave every appearance

of being barely able to speak and then when he let loose with a

proper bit of conversation it proved to be highly improper.

She glanced in disapproval in his direction.

He glanced back in bald-faced delight.

She scowled.

He smirked.

52 CLAUDIA DAIN

Sighing, she turned her gaze to Sophia, who was smiling

somewhat deviously at her. It did nothing to appease her, which

of course it wasn’t meant to.

“But naturally,” Sophia said. “Who would? Now what of your

father, Mr. Prestwick? Any pearls of wisdom dropped into

your willing ear regarding the management of a woman? Should

she be obliged? Or should she be boldly managed?”

“Lady Dalby, does any man possess a willing ear when

listening to his father?” George said, which was rather clever of

him. Penelope cast a casual glance to Edenham to see if he were

offended. He didn’t look to be.

“Now Mr. Prestwick,” Sophia said, leaning forward and prop

ping her chin up with her hand, “don’t try and tell me that when

a man speaks of women, another man is not instantly intrigued,

even if that man be his father. Certainly he must have told you

something
.”

“He did, Lady Dalby,” George said, smiling, his dark eyes

shining in mirth. George was often mirthful. It was usually quite

nice, but sometimes could be a bit tedious. Penelope was dread

fully afraid that now was going to be one of the tedious times.

“Just before I left for school, he called me into his study and told

me that, no matter what occurred, no matter the inconvenience

to me or the relative amiability of the party or even the inevitable

costs, I must be an obliging fellow. And so I was then. And so I

am to this day. As I trust is plainly evident.”

“But, Mr. Prestwick,” Sophia said, very nearly laughing out

loud, which only encouraged George, and he really should not be

encouraged in such things, “you mention nothing of women.”

“And neither, Lady Dalby,” George replied with great

cheek, “did my father. It was a full year before I realized that, but

once I did, being a student of great diligence, I endeavored to

make my own study of the matter. Being amiable, I am not in the

How to Daz zle a Duke

53

habit of boasting; however, I am nearly forced to confess that my

knowledge of women is as dismally inadequate now as it was then.

I fear I am in want of tutoring. Are you taking applications?”

To which Sophia laughed outright, and right merrily, too. It

was hardly to the point, the point being to get Edenham to fall

in love with her, but it was also in horrid taste. Perfectly obvi

ously so.

“Mr. Prestwick,” Sophia said, still grinning, “I can teach you

nothing. But your father has done marvelously well by you. You

are, indeed, entirely obliging. I am certain some woman some

day will cherish you for it.”

“As it is not to be today, I find I have little interest,” George

said, “and indeed, no impatience.”

“An entire year, Mr. Prestwick?” Edenham said. “At what age

were you sent down to school?”

“I was a mere boy of thirteen years, your grace,” George said,

“and from what I can remember, barely able to manage spoon to

mouth.”

“You must forgive my brother, your grace,” Penelope said. “I

fear he makes himself sound quite backward, but he, spoon or

otherwise, has always been amiable. Perhaps to a fault.”

The lighthearted quality, indeed the smirks enjoyed by all

present, excluding her, died upon the utterance of her words.

Unfortunately, this sort of thing happened to her quite often. She

could not think why. She was only trying to be precise and

logical. Of course, it was this trait of hers that had sent the Duke

of Calbourne nearly running from her, which was why he was

not remotely a possible candidate, not that Sophia had to be in

formed of the peculiar details.

She had reviewed their single encounter and it had been

peculiar, though she could think of no way to either unmake his

initial bad impression of her or understand why she had made a

54 CLAUDIA DAIN

bad impression. Calbourne clearly disliked logical, educated

females, and had said so to her face, at her own ball. If he were

not a duke, his behavior would have been nearly inexcusable.

As he was a duke, his behavior became a trifle eccentric, but

nothing more.

Being a duchess was going to be such a nice change. She

could say whatever she wanted and no one would be able to fi nd

fault with it. At least not to her face, and that was all that mat

tered in any regard.

“If we are to list our faults, certainly amiability is the one to

possess,” Sophia said.

“If we are to list our faults,” Iveston said, “perhaps we should

list the faults we see in others.”

He’d said that to
her
, she could just feel it.

“If we are to list our faults,” Edenham said, “then I am certain

to think of a pressing appointment for which I am a quarter hour

late already.”

Penelope looked at Edenham and felt her heart sink. She

hadn’t made the slightest impression upon him yet! He couldn’t

leave.

“If we are to list our faults,” George said, “then I think they

should be listed alphabetically, which would put my fault of ami

ability at the top of the list, and hence out of play. I shall watch,

amiably, free of all anxiety.”

“If we are to list our faults,” Sophia said with a smile, “then

mine is surely in being accommodating, which puts me quite at

the top of the list, Mr. Prestwick. Being amiable, you would not,

I am convinced, seek to supplant me.”

George bowed his head at Sophia and smiled in acqui

escence.

Acquiescence
. . . was there not some way she could turn acqui

escence into a fault and enter this odd game near the top? She

How to Daz zle a Duke

55

was abysmal at games and hated these turn of phrase ones. Oh!

Abysmal.
Perhaps she could claim that as her fault.

“Your turn, Cranleigh,” Iveston said softly. It was obvious that

Lord Cranleigh hated games of this sort as well, which was

simply lovely of him.

“If we are to list our faults,” Cranleigh said, looking askance

at his brother, “then mine must be an aversion to being instructed

when to speak and what to do.”

“What word is that?” Iveston said.

“I leave you to determine it, though if the word is
aversion
, that

puts me third,” Cranleigh said upon a half smile.

“Then the word must not be
aversion
,” Edenham said, “as I

am quite certain I must be found quite high upon the list. I leave

you to choose my word for me, Lady Dalby.”

“
Arrogant
it is,” Sophia said with a chuckle.

“No, not arrogant,” Penelope said impulsively, “for that would

change the game, wouldn’t it? Are we not supposed to choose our

own faults, not note the faults of others?”

For what could she do? She had to defend the duke’s honor,

did she not? Particularly as he was to be her husband. And, as a

small aside, she did not think they should follow Lord Iveston’s

suggestion, a small matter of spite. He was quite eager to throw

a fault upon her, without doubt.

To judge by the general reaction of the room, it was quite

possible she should have taken the time to consider another

choice of action. The mood shifted downward, rather like a tile

falling from the roof.

“If we are to list the faults of others,” George said into the

horrid silence, “then I am compelled to name
logic
as Penelope’s

greatest fault. Hardly a fault in normal circumstances, I know,

but then, when are circumstances ever normal?”

How completely sweet and entirely like George. He had a

56 CLAUDIA DAIN

knack for turning most everything into something quite pleasant,

which just now seemed his greatest talent.

“In a woman? I would have said never,” Iveston said. “How

unexpected to fi nd logic residing in female form.”

Penelope turned and looked at Iveston, quite truly per

plexed at how much he had found to say, most of it quite

unappealing. Perhaps he was not the dullard she had thought

him, though finding he was a boor instead was hardly a notewor

thy improvement.

“How right you are, Lord Iveston,” Sophia said. “Miss Prest

wick is that rare thing: an original.”