To Desire a Wicked Duke (7 page)

Lily made an excellent point. A dear childhood friend of the Loring sisters, Fanny Irwin had craved a more exciting life than rural Hampshire offered, and so had run off to London at the tender age of sixteen to become a renowned Cyprian. But the sisters had loyally refused to repudiate Fanny for her sins, particularly
after their own reputations were irretrievably tarnished by their parents’ vivid scandals.

In fact, Tess had discreetly aided Fanny in the past—last summer, when Lily had taught several young courtesans at Fanny’s London boardinghouse to improve their manners and grace. Fanny would likely be willing to return the favor, Tess presumed, and advise her how to deal with an expert lover like Rotham.

Particularly what to do on your wedding night during the consummation
.

Her heart leaping at that alarming thought, Tess nodded. “I shall write Fanny immediately and have a Wingate footman deliver my message. Hopefully she will have time to meet with me before the ceremony takes place.”

She desperately needed Fanny’s help in defending herself from Rotham, Tess knew. If his mere kisses could steal her senses and incite her to abandon a lifetime of training and all her moral scruples, what would an entire night in his bed do to her?

Turning back to her valise, Tess drew out her small leather-bound diary and tore out a blank sheet in order to pen a note to Fanny.

She firmly refused to acknowledge feeling anything but dismay just now. Her pulse was
not
thrumming with excitement at the prospect of consummating a marital union with Ian Sutherland, the Duke of Rotham.

This marriage would be a total disaster, for they were utterly mismatched. Rotham brought out the very worst in her, Tess declared silently.

Furthermore, she adamantly ignored the sly voice
in her head insisting that he also brought out an admirable quality in her: The way Rotham constantly challenged her and roused her fighting spirit set her blood to racing.

The only thing she was willing to admit, Tess vowed, was that she was in very,
very
big trouble.

In the end, Tess agreed to marry the Duke of Rotham.

When she sought out her godmother to report her decision, Lady Wingate seemed appropriately mollified by her capitulation, and allowed that since the house party at Wingate Manor was scheduled to last three more days, Danvers Hall would serve best for a small, quiet wedding ceremony.

However, the baroness opined, it would be most fitting for the newlyweds to repair directly to Rotham’s family seat afterward, so as to remain out of the public eye for a time. Additionally, such a magnificent estate as Bellacourt would remind the Beau Monde just what a grand match Tess was making, even if it
was
a bit tainted by scandal.

Lady Wingate also softened her condemnation of Tess with something of an apology.

“You may think I am being cruel, my dear, by forcing this marriage upon you—and I do regret that you object so violently to taking Rotham as your husband.
But I have high hopes that your union will work out when all is said and done.”

Tess shared nothing of her godmother’s confidence and saw very little prospect for wedded bliss with Rotham. But she dutifully permitted the baroness to announce their betrothal that evening and asked that her absence from the amateur play performance be excused since she needed to prepare for her wedding the next day.

Patrick Hennessy’s apology to Tess, on the other hand, was visibly more abject and heartfelt.

Despite the awkwardness of facing the actor so soon after the debacle of their interrupted kiss, she had to consult with him briefly before leaving for Chiswick in order to settle their account and give him a bank draft to pay for his troupe’s services over the past week.

“
Please
allow me to beg your forgiveness again for daring to kiss you, Miss Blanchard,” Hennessy implored after pocketing the draft. “I have no notion what came over me.”

“It was not entirely your fault, Mr. Hennessy,” Tess replied, her cheeks warming in embarrassment at her own willing participation.

“ ’Tis a wonder you didn’t box my ears as I deserved. And that his grace refrained from running me through in a fit of jealousy. At least it seems to have brought him up to scratch and inspired him to offer for your hand after all this time.”

Tess’s flush deepened. Clearly the news of their imaginary love match had spread through Wingate Manor like an outbreak of ague. “His offer had little to do with jealousy of you, I am certain.”

When a skeptical look crossed the actor’s face, his response reminded Tess of Rotham’s earlier unexpected revelation.

“Why did you never tell me he had hired you to keep an eye on me?”

Hennessy regarded her ruefully. “The duke bade me keep quiet on pain of death because he feared you would take offense at his interference. But he thought concern for your safety was warranted—a lady going about town alone, and in Covent Garden no less, where you could be mistaken for a … a …”

When the actor hesitated, Tess filled in the missing word. “A lightskirt, you mean.”

“Well … yes,” Hennessy admitted sheepishly. “You are nothing of the kind, Miss Blanchard, but your forays into the thespian sphere open you to certain charges, no matter how admirable your motives. Once you become a duchess, though, your ventures are likely to cease.”

Tess frowned at him. “I well know how my forays are regarded, Mr. Hennessy, but I intend to continue holding charitable benefits even after my marriage to Rotham.”

“I wonder if you will be permitted to do so,” the actor said worriedly. “Especially after today. The duke is no doubt eager to cut out my liver, and he will not wish you to employ my troupe again. Indeed, he could ruin me and my company with scant effort.”

“I would never allow that to happen,” Tess declared loyally. “I assure you, he will have no say in my future endeavors.”

She would make certain Rotham stayed out of her
business dealings, Tess vowed to herself, especially when it came to employing Patrick Hennessy and his theatrical company. With his remarkable talent, Hennessy had been invaluable in orchestrating this week’s amateur performance by wealthy houseguests who could then become patrons of her charities, and in raising funds for her two London benefits—deciding on the programs, hiring and managing the actors and opera singers, and building the stage sets. The recent musical evening at the Theatre Royal alone had brought in the enormous sum of two thousand pounds. Tess knew she could never have had a fraction of that success on her own. She was not about to give up Hennessy’s organizational skills or relinquish the opportunity to raise even more funds using his creative genius.

The actor obviously held doubts about his continued employment, but he shrugged and flashed a placating smile. “I hope you are right, Miss Blanchard. I expect, however, that I have just missed my best chance to advance my investigation of the spirit world. A recent ghost sighting was reportedly made at the duke’s castle in Cornwall, but now in all likelihood, I shall never be granted permission to visit there and examine the truth of the rumors for myself.”

“Rotham’s castle is said to be haunted?” Tess asked with mild interest.

“Yes. I only learned of it while researching the play I wrote for your theatrical tonight. I have been corresponding with a scholar who is a noted authority on Cornish spirits. The ghosts at Drury Lane have not
been spied for years, but those at Falwell Castle are of recent origin—last winter, in fact.”

Tess pursed her lips in thought. She vaguely recalled that Rotham possessed a castle in Cornwall, but had never heard of it being haunted.

“Still,” the actor added hopefully when she was silent, “might you consider putting in a good word for me with the duke once you are his duchess, Miss Blanchard? If I could somehow garner an invitation to Falwell, I could experience a new ghost firsthand. I would be forever in your debt.”

The return of Hennessy’s good-natured brashness did not surprise Tess, yet almost made her roll her eyes in exasperation. Her life was in chaos, her future with her soon-to-be husband completely uncertain, and all the actor was interested in was researching ghosts? Moreover, he had to know that after the contretemps this afternoon, this would hardly be the ideal time to ask the duke to help him.

Since she owed Hennessy more than she could repay, however, Tess didn’t reject his request out of hand.

“Perhaps a visit to the castle can be arranged, Mr. Hennessy. Meanwhile, I would ask that you oversee tonight’s performance and treat our amateur actors with special care, since I will not be here to assist you. You know as well as I how to flatter their vanity and keep in their good graces.”

“Certainly, Miss Blanchard. And again, I am grievously sorry for taking liberties, particularly if I precipitated complications with the duke in any way.”

As am I
, Tess thought as she turned away and headed toward the stables.
As am I
.

*   *   *

Tess was grateful when her dependable coachman and footmen whisked her away from her godmother’s country estate in Richmond to her own home some ten miles away.

After her mother’s death, Tess had turned down the baroness’s invitation to come live at Wingate Manor. Instead, she’d remained in Chiswick, near her dearest friends, in her family home. Not only was the charming house large and comfortable, it was less than an hour’s drive to London—a significant advantage since she visited London so frequently on behalf of her charitable causes.

Tess had taken a companion for propriety’s sake, however, in a mutually beneficial arrangement. Dorothy Croft’s presence allowed her a vital measure of independence that she could never have had otherwise. And she provided the widow with a home and much-needed income, as well as a large, well-lit studio for painting her precious watercolors.

Dorothy was actually fairly skilled as an amateur artist, and she had the dreamy mentality of an artist as well. Tess found her companion in the attic studio, brush in hand as she contemplated a blank canvas. When told about Tess’s impending marriage to the Duke of Rotham, the elder lady did not seem at all surprised.

“That is lovely, dear. I am very pleased for you. It is high time you married, you know.” Her eyes clearing, Dorothy suddenly regarded Tess in dismay. “Do you mean to tell me I will soon be out of a home? Will his grace wish to reside here? Do you want me to leave?”

“No, dearest,” Tess said quickly. “You may live here as long as you please. I expect Rotham to remain at his family seat in Richmond or his house in London, and I shall likely move in with him.”

At least for a time, Tess added to herself. Thankfully, he had promised they could live separate lives and even have separate homes once the sensation of their abrupt marriage faded.

Dorothy looked relieved before returning her attention to her canvas. “Thank you, dear Tess. Now if you will excuse me, I must paint this rosebush before I lose my inspiration. I had the most marvelous concept.…”

Tess managed a smile and kissed her companion’s soft cheek, then made her way downstairs to her bedchamber. She loved Dorothy dearly, but the absentminded lady was not likely to provide much support in helping her deal with her menacing disaster.

With the aid of her maid Alice, Tess began to unpack her luggage from her weeklong stay at Wingate Manor, then tried to decide what gown she should wear for the marriage ceremony and what clothing she would need once she wed Rotham. Her wardrobe was smaller these days, since she’d given away her mourning weeds of black crepe and gray bombazine as part of her resolve to rejoin the living. She had no wedding trousseau, of course—

Suddenly feeling overwhelmed, Tess sank down helplessly in a chair.

“Are you ill, Miss Blanchard?” her maid asked in a worried tone. “Shall I fetch Mrs. Croft’s smelling salts?”