A Duke's Desire (The Duke's Club Book 1)

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A Duke's Desire (The Duke's Club Book 1) Page 8

by G. L. Snodgrass


  Had the Duke informed Mrs. Jensen about their kiss? No, surely not. No sooner had the worry entered her mind than she was dragged back to the memory of his lips on hers. It was as if she had been taken to a new and wonderful world where everything made sense.

  No, she thought as she pushed the pictures and memories out of her mind. Concentrate, she told herself. This was something different.

  Taking a deep breath, she responded as she had been taught, “Of course, Your Grace.”

  When he gave Mrs. Jensen a strange look, her insides grew even more worried. This was not some simple household task.

  “It is really rather simple,” Mrs. Jensen said as she took her hand and smiled gently. “We need you to pretend to be a rich merchant’s daughter. Attend a Ball at the Southampton’s and convince the Dowager that His Grace is thinking of proposing marriage.”

  “What,” she gasped as she pulled her hand back, instinctively afraid of being trapped.

  The Duke laughed and shook his head. “It is true, I need to deceive my mother so that she will leave me alone and stop trying to force me into marrying. It cannot be a known woman of the ton. Mother would never let me walk away. If she thinks I might marry a commoner, she will stop pushing me to marry.”

  Ann frowned, the thought of deceiving a Duchess didn’t sit well. Didn’t they send people to prison for such things? There was also the thought of the Duke marrying. Suddenly her stomach clenched up at the thought.

  Then it hit her. A Ball. With him. Suddenly, her world shifted and was filled with an entirely new set of fears.

  “Why me?” she asked as she desperately fought to list and order all of the reasons why this was wrong.

  Again, he glanced at Mrs. Jensen.

  “We need someone we can trust,” the housekeeper told her. “Someone who I believe can maneuver through the quicksand of a formal Ball. And …”

  The pause made Ann bite down as if waiting for a blow to the heart.

  “And someone,” she continued, “who will not demand His Grace actually take her to the altar.”

  Ann winced then pulled herself together. Of course, she was only a maid, she would never demand such a thing. She knew her place. The thought ignited an anger inside of her. How dare they?

  You are a maid, she reminded herself. That is why they think she can be treated so coldly.

  “There is more,” Mrs. Jensen said as if what she was about to say could be even more shocking.

  Ann held her breath and waited.

  “You will have to leave until after Her Grace departs for Norwich. We cannot risk the two of you coming in contact here in this house. She must believe you are a distant daughter of a rich merchant.”

  “What?” she gasped as a cold fear filled her heart. Did they plan to simply kick her out onto the street? Was this all because she had kissed the Duke?

  Mrs. Jensen held up a hand to stop her from becoming upset. “I will hide you in another house. Perhaps Lady Simpson’s, her housekeeper owes me more than one favor.”

  “No,” the Duke interrupted.

  Ann’s heart fell, her safe world was coming to a crashing halt.

  “No,” he repeated. “I have a better idea. The Dowager’s house. It is empty.”

  Mrs. Jensen nodded her approval then smiled, “I know the perfect staff, a couple that can act as caretakers. I always did worry about that house full of workmen without any oversight.” Then a large smile broke out on his housekeeper’s face. “We will also send along Lizzy as your Lady’s maid. I know the girl shivers every time she walks by that pantry. A few days away will be good for her and the experience will be invaluable.”

  “But …” she began. “How? I know nothing of that world. Me? A Ball?”

  Mrs. Jensen smiled, “Leave it to me. I will teach you the things you need to know. We will obtain the finest dress in all of London, I assure you. It will not take long to teach you the dance steps and all of the latest gossip.”

  Ann was still unable to wrap her mind around the idea. A thousand thoughts tumbled through her mind. A Ball with the Duke being the first and foremost. It was as if she were in a Cinderella story only without the charming prince falling in love with her. That had been laid out quite clearly. The Duke would never lift her up to the highest rung of society. No, she would do this for him, then return to her world of cleaning fireplaces, making beds, and polishing silverware.

  “What do you think Miss Parker?” the Duke asked.

  Ann noticed the formal name. She would no longer be Ann the maid. The thought made her stomach clench into a tight ball. The thought of making a mistake ate at her very soul. What if she disappointed him? Or worse, embarrassed him. How would she ever live with herself?

  Or worse, what if her failure led to her losing her employment? The thought sent a cold dread through her. Returning to the streets would lead to Grainger finding her again.

  But, what choice did she have? The Duke had saved her more than once. Without him, she would be trapped in a Manchester brothel living a life of ruin and shame.

  “I will attempt to help, Your Grace,” she said after a long pause.

  She watched as he sighed heavily. Obviously, relieved.

  “I assure you, Miss Parker,” he said with a soft smile. “It will all go well.”

  Ann sighed. “Sir, it is all a little much. The Dowager’s house and now a Lady’s maid. A fancy Ball. Things are tumbling out of control. The next thing you know you will be having me dancing with the Prince Regent.”

  The Duke laughed. “Be careful Miss Parker. There is every chance the Prince will be there that night. And knowing his preference for beautiful women. I can easily see him requesting a dance maybe even two.”

  “Sir, please no,” she whispered as a cold sinking feeling filled her.

  He laughed and shook his head. “Very well,” the Duke said. “I will endeavor to stop you from having to dance with the Prince of Wales.”

  Ann studied him, and realized he was being serious. He really did think there was a chance that the Prince might ask her to dance. The mere idea seemed so silly as to be beyond consideration.

  “Yes, this will work,” Mrs. Jensen said obviously trying to reassure her. Ann studied her for a moment and realized the woman was like a spider at the center of a web. Deciding which string to pull to achieve the results she desired.

  “Good,” the Duke said, as he stood up. “It is settled. Miss Parker has agreed to attend the Southampton Ball. At the Ball, I will lavish attention on her, convincing my mother that I am seriously contemplating matrimony. After the Ball, Miss Parker will remain at the Dowager’s house until my mother departs. We must remember. There might be cause for a repeat performance. My mother can be difficult at times.

  Mrs. Jensen smiled as she stood. “Good. That is settled. I will take care of everything else. You, Your Grace, will be given your tasks this afternoon. And be sure you carry them out correctly.”

  He laughed. “I assure you, Mrs. Jensen. Avoiding matrimony is a strong motivation. Perhaps the strongest. Your assignments will be achieved.”

  Chapter Twelve

  It was as if she were caught in the worst storm on the darkest night, she thought as Mrs. Jensen used the brass knocker for the Dowager’s house.

  Lizzy looked up at her with a questioning expression that said it all. How had they ended up here? The girl stood there with a small carpetbag with all of their possessions in this world. Both excited and afraid.

  Whatever happened? Ann thought to herself. Pulling Lizzy up from scullery maid to Lady’s maid was a positive. She well knew how the girl dreaded passing the pantry every day. That constant memory of what had almost happened to her had to eat at her soul. No. No matter what happened. This at least was positive.

  The door was opened by a stooped older man with gray hair but clear, intelligent eyes.

  “Mrs. Jensen,” he said in greeting as he fully opened the door and stepped back allowing the group inside.

  Ann he
ld her breath as she examined her new home. While not as large nor as fancy as the Duke’s residence, it was close. A gray marble floor, dark wood paneling, a large stair sweeping to the upper floors with a highly polished banister.

  Portraits with ornate frames lined the walls with golden sconces and finely finished furniture.

  “Mr. White,” Mrs. Jensen said, “this is Miss Ann Parker, a friend of the Duke’s family and her maid, Lizzy. They will be staying here while visiting London.”

  Ann’s heart seized when she saw the knowing look in the man’s eyes. The man had categorized her as the Duke’s mistress.

  “Of course,” he said. “Will His Grace be visiting often?”

  A sinking feeling filled Ann. Of course. The man thought she was the Duke’s mistress. Wouldn’t everyone? Although if they thought it through. No man would house his mistress in his mother’s house. Even the Duke was not that brave.

  Mrs. Jensen scowled at Mr. White, putting him in his place. “His Grace will not be visiting. Not unless he comes with his mother.”

  Mr. White swallowed hard as he nodded. “Of course.” Then he turned and retrieved an envelope from a side table. “This came for you this morning, Miss.”

  Ann frowned as she examined the folded paper addressed to Miss Ann Parker.

  Mrs. Jensen smiled “Your Invitations to the Southampton Ball.” Then, she leaned forward and whispered, “His Grace does work fast. At least when he is motivated.”

  Ann’s stomach fell. This was truly happening. She held an invitation to one of the most important Balls in all of London. How was this possible?

  Mrs. Jensen looked around the entryway, obviously examining it for any failings. Ann smiled to herself. The woman was a stickler for cleanliness. It was ingrained in her very soul.

  Seeing that everything met her expectations, Mrs. Jensen gave Ann a quick smile. “I will leave you in good hands, Miss Parker. And remember, we are going shopping on the morrow. Her Grace has tasked me with taking you to her favorite modiste. Until then, I must return. Her Grace has planned a tea this afternoon.”

  The look she shot her, made Ann’s insides freeze. The look told her that she was on her own and would be expected to start acting the part she had been chosen for. A rich merchant’s daughter.

  It was as if the floor had fallen out from beneath her, Ann thought. She was being left alone to start weaving a false story.

  “Of course, Mrs. Jensen,” she said as she tried to gather herself. “Please tell Her Grace how thankful I am at her generosity. Mother will be so pleased.”

  Mrs. Jensen smiled then left her there.

  Taking a deep breath, she followed Mr. White up the curving stairs to the upper floor.

  “Here you go Miss,” Mr. White said. “My missus has made up the room for you. If you need anything the bell rope is in the corner. Two rings for your maid, one for us.”

  Ann thanked him as she turned and examined the room. It was unbelievable, with a floral wallpaper, A fireplace all its own, a huge canopy covered bed. Two windows looking out over the park.

  “If you’ll come with me,” he said to Lizzy, “I will be showing you your room downstairs.”

  Lizzy lifted her chin as if he didn’t understand the proper protocol. “I will be down after I have Miss Ann settled,” the young girl said.

  Ann had to hold back a laugh. It had to be the best impression of a Lady’s maid in all of London. With that one sentence, Lizzy had established herself in the servant hierarchy. She worked for Miss Parker. Not Mr. White.

  He dipped his head in acknowledgment, then pulled the door behind him.

  Lizzy watched the door for a few seconds, then turned to her with the biggest of grins. “This is going to be fun Miss Ann.”

  Ann laughed. She knew exactly how the young girl felt. The world had been turned on its end. But it was going to be fun. At least until it all ended. Either in disgrace in the middle of a fancy Ball, or her back on the streets of London.

  Thankfully, Lizzy knew the truth. That this was only temporary. A great ruse to fool the Duke’s mother. It would have been impossible otherwise. The young girl would have constantly questioned the situation for both of them. This way, she was an ally, a fellow actor in this play.

  “Don’t become too enamored,” Ann said to her. “It won’t last. I’ll be back to cleaning fireplaces and you back to scrubbing pots and pans.”

  Lizzy simply smiled and said, “True. But, until then, I plan on enjoying myself.”

  Ann cringed inside. Lizzy wasn’t running the risk of failure. If this all came to naught, she would still return to the kitchens. The blame would be put on Ann. What then?

  Shuddering, she fought to push away the cold sense of dread that filled her.

  The next morning, both she and Lizzy were ready for Mrs. Jensen. The housekeeper swooped them up and escorted them out to a hired coach.

  Ann’s stomach continued to turn over the entire way. What would the Duke expect her to wear? Would he like her in a gown? What did she know about what women wore to such things?

  That thought led to a dozen other doubts. How could she be expected to know how to act. What if she said the wrong thing? Perhaps even embarrassed herself, or worse, His Grace?

  After they exited the coach and approached the door to the modiste, Mrs. Jensen stopped for a moment and raised an eyebrow as she glared at both herself and Lizzy. “We don’t know these people,” she said. “Be careful, word might get back to Her Grace.”

  Ann swallowed hard as she realized this was but the first of many hurdles to overcome. She took a deep breath, straightened her shoulders then nodded.

  Mrs. Jensen smiled and led her into a new world. A world of color and fashion. A world where she was expected to know what she wanted.

  “A deep blue satin,” Mrs. Jensen suggested as she pointed to a beautiful bolt of cloth on the far shelf.

  The dressmaker frowned. “I don’t believe that will work. The last we saw from Paris called for a higher-waisted fashion. Of course, this war is making it difficult to keep up with the latest.

  Ann’s heart fell, the shimmering cloth would have been perfect.

  “With the right lace and an extra petticoat, it will work,” Mrs. Jensen replied, obviously refusing to be put off. Ann smiled to herself. The modiste was an idiot if she thought she could change The Duke’s housekeeper’s mind.

  After that, it was a second gown and three-day dresses, “The Duke insisted,” Mrs. Jensen told her in an aside.

  Ann felt as if she were caught in a raging torrent. It was impossible to believe how her world had changed. Beautiful gowns. Brand new day dresses. All purchased by the Duke of Bedford. It seemed preposterous. What would the man expect in return for such an expense? Surely, it couldn’t just be to fool his mother.

  No, she thought to herself. The Duke was not such a man. Heaven knew he had more than a few opportunities to press his advantage yet, he had always been the perfect gentleman.

  The memory of their kiss danced through her mind.

  A small sense of regret flashed through Ann as she realized that she wished he had tried to press her. Would she have succumbed? Would she have given herself to him for one night of pleasure? Would she have ignored everything she had been taught for a few moments in his arms?

  It surprised her that she didn’t automatically dismiss the idea. There, in the deep recesses of her mind was a doubt. A possibility that made her insides shiver.

  “And you, too,” Mrs. Jensen said to Lizzy. “You are to get two new dresses. A Lady’s maid is expected to look like one.”

  The young girl’s eyes grew as big as saucers as she gulped before a wide smile broke out on her face, obviously thrilled.

  Ann smiled to herself at the Duke’s generosity.

  Pulling the housekeeper to the side while they were measuring Lizzy for her dresses, Ann whispered, “Please tell His Grace how thankful we are.”

  Mrs. Jensen frowned at her and shook her head, “Never forg
et, Ann. It is the Duke that is indebted to you. One of the first rules you need to learn, my dear. Life in the ton is so much easier if you just assume that you are owed the privileges you receive.”

  Ann frowned, “But …”

  “We both know the truth. No one deserves privileged just because of their birth,” Mrs. Jensen said. “But never act as if this life is unusual. It will just ruin everything. No, you must always act as if the extravagance, the privileges are your due. That is the secret. Pretend as if you are special and people will treat you that way.”

  A sense of wrongness filled Ann. It couldn’t be that simple.

  Mrs. Jensen gave her a secret smile. “I’ve been around these people for almost forty years. I was born into seeing that their every need was taken care of. Believe me, it is all a play-act. They behave as if they deserve it and we pretend to admire them.”

  “Does that include His Grace?” Ann asked. “Is he nothing more than a normal person? Is there nothing that sets him apart? Above us all?”

  Mrs. Jensen snorted. “His Grace is a man first and foremost.” She paused for a second as she looked into Ann’s eyes. “Never forget that. He is all male. Both the good and the bad that carries. Granted perhaps better than most. And definitely more male than any man I know. But, never forget, he is a man at heart.”

  “And what does that mean?”

  “It means that he doesn’t always think beyond his next conquest. I don’t care if it is a woman, a boxing match, or a business deal. Every man I ever knew couldn’t think three steps down the path if there was a challenge directly in front of them. Heaven knows my Tom was that way.”

  Ann noticed the faraway look in Mrs. Jensen’s eyes and realized she was thinking of her deceased husband. None of the servants below the stairs knew the entire story. Each had arrived after the Duke had reached his maturity and the widow Jensen had been installed as the new housekeeper.

  Each person has their own story, Ann realized as her heart went out to the older woman.

  Taking a deep breath, Ann let her mind process what Mrs. Jensen had said about the aristocracy. Was she correct? Was that all this was? A challenge. Yes, obviously, the Duke needed to dissuade his mother. He hadn’t really thought of the consequences long term. To her. To young Lizzy.

 

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