“And this is Lady Beatrice Radcliff,” the Duke said as he indicated the young woman standing next to the Duchess. Ann instinctively braced herself. The woman didn’t like her, it was obvious by the disdain in her eyes. Why?
However, when the woman looked at the Duke, she understood immediately. That was a possessive female look if she had ever seen one. Of course. This was his mother’s choice.
Again, Ann dipped into a curtsey. Would she be doing this all night? she wondered. If so, her knees would surely give out.
“Miss Parker,” the woman said as she continued to stare daggers into her heart. “Arriving unescorted. I must say, that is rather brave.”
Ann cringed but refused to let it show. This was the woman she needed to defeat. Not his mother. This was the woman who wished to claim the Duke for herself.
Rather thin, Ann thought to herself. With a bit of a pinched face. Did she look like that all the time or only when meeting women His Grace might be interested in. It didn’t matter, she realized. This woman wasn’t good enough for His Grace. She just knew it in her very bones.
The realization made everything easier.
“My mother took ill,” Ann said, following the script devised by Mrs. Jensen. “I would have begged off, but some people might have been disappointed,” she added. Here, she turned to the Duke and gave him her most adoring smile.
The man bit back a laugh and dipped his head in agreement.
“Yes, well,” the Dowager began. “Both you and your mother must come to tea.”
Ann held down the mounting terror and fell back to the plan. Mrs. Jensen had foreseen every eventuality. “That would be lovely, Your Grace. Once she has recovered, we would most enjoy it.”
The Dowager frowned when the Duke stepped in. “I’ve been invited to visit your father at his Sheffield Estates. We are to go grouse hunting.”
Ann smiled to herself, the look on Lady Beatrice’s face was priceless. The last thing she wanted was the Duke spending time with Ann’s father. That was how matrimony contracts were arranged.
“Perhaps I will have returned home by then,” Ann said once again giving him her best smile.
He looked back, and for just the briefest second she forgot it was all a ruse. Her heart jumped a sense of specialness filled her. For a moment she believed he cared for her.
“So how did you meet His Grace?” Lady Beatrice asked, her eyes narrowing with doubt.
“Devon,” they both answered together. Another of Mrs. Jensen’s contributions.
Ann took a deep breath. “We were visiting one of father’s mills in Devon. Our coach broke a wheel. His Grace was passing and saved us all from a miserable day by kindly offering us a ride to the next inn.”
The Duke nodded in agreement as if every word where the actual truth. “I must say. It was one of the most enjoyable days I have spent in a great while.”
Ann’s heart jumped when from the corner of her eye she caught Lady Beatrice growing almost red. His mother looked at him with a strange expression, as if she were trying to decipher an unbreakable puzzle.
The look was put aside when they were joined by another tall man. The Duke’s friend, the Duke of Suffolk. Ann steadied her nerves. One duke was more than enough.
“There you are Bedford,” the new Duke said. “Your Grace, Lady Beatrice, it is nice to see you again.”
Ann held her breath. Mrs. Jensen had told her to expect this. But still. The last time she had met this man she had been but a common downstairs maid.
“And Miss Parker, this is a pleasure, as always. You look as beautiful as ever.”
She once again dipped into a curtsy, but he immediately took her hand and lifted her up. “I hear your mother is under the weather. Please tell her I send along my best wishes.”
“Of course, Your Grace,” she managed to say.
Turning to the Duke of Bedford, Suffolk nodded to the back room and said, “I need to discuss something if you have a moment.” Then turned to the ladies he added, “You will excuse us for a short bit, won’t you?”
Both Ladies nodded. Obviously, what choice did they have? Suffolk threw his arm around his friend and started to pull him away, then turned back to her. “You will save me a dance, won’t you Miss Parker?”
“Myself as well,” the Duke of Bedford said.
Ann’s heart raced. Things were moving too fast. That had not been part of Mrs. Jensen’s plan. “Of course, Your Grace.”
Both, he and the Duke of Bedford, smiled to her then they were off. A feeling of power washed over her when she realized that neither had asked Lady Beatrice for a dance. Then it hit her. She was alone with the Duke’s mother and the woman who wanted him for herself.
Now came the hard part, she realized.
.o0o.
“How is she doing?” Ian asked him as they left the group.
“She was born for this,” Brock answered.
His friend shot him a strange look then shook his head.
The Duke of Bedford looked back and smiled to himself. Yes, she was a natural. He had caught the interplay between Ann and Beatrice. It had surprised him how proud of her he was when she handled the situation so calmly.
He had never anticipated Beatrice being here tonight. The last he had heard she was at her family’s home in Kent. Obviously, his mother had called in reinforcements.
Regardless, Ann had dealt with it as if she had been doing this her entire life. Remarkable.
“So, this is the part where we pretend to be discussing world-shaking events,” Ian said. “All so you can leave them alone together. It sounds rather cruel if you ask me.”
Bedford frowned. “Ann can handle this, I assure you.”
Suffolk laughed, “I was talking about Lady Beatrice. The woman has wanted her claws into you since she could crawl. By leaving your Miss Ann with her, you are pointing out the Lady’s many failings. As I said, cruel.”
Bedford shrugged his shoulders. “Her father can see the writing on the wall. The Anti-Slave law we passed last year has thrown a wrench in his gears. His only hope is marrying her off to someone wealthy enough to pull him up out of debt.”
Suffolk shook his head. “This really does seem like a lot to simply fool your mother. Why not just announce your desire to not marry? It is not like she can force you.
Bedford sighed heavily. “I know her, she will refuse to take no for an answer and will insist on moving into my residence. Can you just imagine my life?” A shudder ran down his back. “No, I need to convince her that if she pushes, I will marry a commoner. I tell you. Nothing would be worse in my mother’s eyes.”
His friend laughed, “Better you than me. At least I have younger brothers. I’ve instructed my mother to focus on marrying them off and to leave me alone.”
“Do you really believe she will? I tell you. Once they get into the habit of matchmaking, they refuse to stop.”
“Perhaps, but at least I don’t have to have one of my maids try to fool my mother.”
Bedford swallowed hard. Was Suffolk right? Was it wrong of him to use Ann this way? To throw her into this world all so that he could avoid marriage? A tightening of his gut told him that he feared he might have asked for too much from the young woman.
Looking across the room, he was once again struck by a sense of admiration. Even now, the woman was holding her own with his mother. Beautiful, poised, as if she belonged.
“Excuse me,” he said to Suffolk. He needed to return. Not because Ann needed his help. But because being away from her didn’t feel right.
Chapter Fifteen
Young Ann Parker couldn’t believe she was there. One of high society's most exclusive Balls. Filled with Lords and Ladies of the ton. It was almost overwhelming. The women in gorgeous gowns. The men in fine dress, each tall and powerful, looking as if they controlled half the world.
Her heart refused to settle as her entire body buzzed with excitement A sinking feeling filled her, she didn’t belong here. She would never belong i
n this world. Everything was too refined. Too high class.
“Tell me, dear,” the Duchess said, pulling Ann back to reality. “Exactly how did your father make his money?”
Ann cringed inside. That simple statement told her what the Duchess thought of her. Her father’s wealth came from work. Not from a title and the associated rents. It upset the entire philosophy behind the aristocracy.
In the Duchess’ world, birth determined status. if anyone could become wealthy then titles meant nothing.
“Wool, Your Grace,” Ann answered. “Papa owns several factories.”
Her Grace grunted while Lady Beatrice actually turned her nose up as if she had caught a bad smell.
Ann clamped her lips tight to stop from saying any more. Mrs. Jensen had insisted that she not elaborate. That she not get into an in-depth discussion about politics, land policy, or anything that might give her away. But it was difficult. This woman owed all of her riches to the labor of tenants. To despise them at the same time seemed churlish.
The fact that some of those tenants chose to work in factories instead of for some distant landowner was becoming an issue for some of the landlords.
What of the Duke of Bedford? What was his opinion on the matter? she wondered. Speaking of the Duke, where was he? How could he have left her alone like this?
Once again, her stomach clenched tight as she fought against the urge to excuse herself and flee.
No sooner had she pushed the fear back down than His Grace returned to them.
“Your Grace,” Lady Radford said to him with her best smile, “You are just in time, Miss Parker was just telling us about the factory where her father works.”
Ann almost gasped out loud. That was such an obvious attempt to misconstrue what she had said. The woman wanted nothing more than to throw her into the worse light.
The Duke simply smiled, “If it wasn’t for Mr. Parker's factories and mills, My tenants would have nowhere to sell their wares. Which would mean they couldn’t pay their rents, which would obviously lead to no more fancy balls or pretty gowns.”
Ann’s heart soared. He had supported her. Granted, it was all a farce. Yet still, it felt so empowering.
“Excuse me, Miss Parker,” he said as he bowed slightly, “might I have this dance?”
Her heart fluttered. The man was so handsome, so refined. So … perfect. And to ask her in front of Lady Radford added a specialness to the situation.
“Of course, Your Grace,” she said as she let him take her hand and lead her away. When she glanced over her shoulder, she was thrilled to see the pain in Lady Radcliff’s eyes and the look of fear in his mother’s.
“I think it is working,” he said as he leaned down to whisper into her ear. “Mother is terrified I will waltz you down the aisle of St. Paul’s.”
Ann clenched her teeth against the sudden pain that flowed through her. He said it as if the idea was preposterous.
“I knew,” he continued, “once she saw you, she would believe everything. I can promise you. She will not be pushing me to marry.”
Again, Ann held her tongue unless she say the wrong thing. Just get through the dance, she told herself. A simple reel, she realized as the other couples began to form. She could do this.
The Duke guided her into place, then gave her a quick smile to let her know that he believed in her. How was this possible? One moment he was supportive, kind. And the next, dismissed. The thought of matrimony with someone like her as preposterous. Then back to being sweet.
Her insides tumbled over themselves until the band started. Taking a deep breath, she forced herself to remember the steps drilled into her by Mr. Schiff. This was important. It must appear as if she were familiar with such things. As if even in the country they knew the latest London dance.
“You look beautiful,” His Grace said as they came together then separated to shift partners.
Ann had to hold the pleasure inside until they next came together. “Thank you,” she said they once again separated. It was so frustrating, she realized. Oh, how she wished she could spend a few quiet moments alone with this man. Enough to discover more about him.
An embarrassing shame filled her when she remembered the last moment they had shared alone. He had kissed her and she had kissed him back.
The thought pulled her away from the dance steps for a moment and she almost turned the wrong way only to catch herself and follow the proper steps. After that near catastrophe, she forced herself to concentrate. She must not embarrass him, she reminded herself. Too much depended upon it.
Finally, the dance came to an end. The Duke bowed deeply. She curtsied while looking up at him. His smile told her that he was pleased with her performance. God, she thought, that smile could melt a woman’s heart.
Magic. That smile made the entire night magical. A night she would never forget.
“Come,” he said as he tucked her arm into his, “There are some people I want to introduce you to.”
Sighing, she nodded. Mrs. Jensen had warned her about this. She would be expected to hold her own in conversation. To impress these people with her intelligence and wit.
“Lord and Lady Chamberlain, Lady Brookfield,” the Duke said to an older group, “May I introduce a friend of the family, Miss Parker from Sheffield.”
Ann quickly dropped into another curtsy.
“Parker, Parker?” Lady Brookfield said. “Where have I heard that name?”
Ann’s insides hardened as she held her breath.
“Her father owns several textile factories in the midlands,” His Grace said.
Lady Bradford frowned for a moment then nodded, “Yes, that must be it.”
Lord Chamberlain nodded, “Yes, I do believe my agent sold your father some of our wool last year. A good price if I remember correctly.”
Ann almost gasped. These people were so clueless, it made her wonder about everything she had ever thought about the elite upper crust.
“If you will excuse us,” His Grace said, “We must make the rounds.”
“Of course,” Lord Chamberlain said as if it made perfect sense for a Duke to be escorting a young country Miss to the Lords and Ladies of the ton.
The Duke squeezed her hand as he once again tucked it into his arm. Leaning down he whispered, “Those three will spread the word quicker than a chimney fire.”
Ann swallowed hard as he once again pulled in front of a gathering and introduced her. It was on the fourth such introduction that she saw just how true his words had been about the speed of rumors. Word about her had flashed through the guests.
Lady Trent pulled her son, Lord Alister Trent, away from another gathering just so that he could meet the new heiress.
It was so obvious, the young man saw only one thing, British Sterling and the size of her possible dowry.
“Might I have this next dance, Miss Parker?” he asked. Her stomach jumped as she looked at His Grace. His brow was creased with a strange look, but he forced himself to nod slightly. Obviously determining that the young man posed no threat to the farce they were performing.
Lord Trent proved to be a competent dancer, but Ann couldn’t help comparing him to her last partner. The Duke was so much taller, broader in chest and shoulders. With a touch of something deep and dangerous behind his eyes. This young man could not compete.
It was hard to imagine Lord Trent ever besting two London criminals. Or even traveling down to the docks for that matter. No, this man knew nothing but fancy balls, garden parties, and the occasional fox hunt.
When they were done, the Duke once again reclaimed her attention and steered her to another group.
For the next hour, her life became a blur of new names, dances with men she would soon forget and a constant fear of saying the wrong thing that might expose her. All of it mixed with a sense of wonder and overwhelming awe at her surrounding.
Only after she had been introduced to most of the guests did he lead her back to his mother.
The Duke o
f Suffolk stood next to Lady Radcliff. Something in his eyes told Ann that he wished he could be anywhere but there. When he saw them approaching, his eyes lit up as if he had been rescued from a burning house.
“Miss Parker,” he said as he bowed, “I do hope you are free to dance?”
Her cheeks grew warm with embarrassment. This man knew the truth, yet he treated her as if she were special.
“Of course, Your Grace,” she answered as she let him lead her to the floor.
“You have become the belle of the Ball, Miss Parker,” he said quietly as he led her away. “I wouldn’t be surprised if you had a dozen mothers trying to maneuver their sons into your orbit.”
Ann gave an un-ladylike snort. Thank God it was the Duke of Suffolk, he didn’t react as if she were an idiot.
“It is my non-existent wealth, Your Grace. Not me.”
The Duke of Suffolk smiled gently. “I do believe their sons might not mind so much.”
Her cheeks grew warm. Had she really made that much of an impression? But what of the Duke of Bedford? If she were honest with herself. It was only his opinion that mattered to her.
When the Duke of Suffolk escorted her back to Her Grace and Lady Radcliff, Ann took a deep breath to steady her nerves. The entire night was rushing by so quickly.
A sadness began to build inside of her. It would all be over very soon. This fairy tale night would end and she would return to being the maid she was.
The Duke of Bedford watched her as she approached. Ann felt a warmness fill her. His stare did something to her insides. Brought her alive in some new way. It was as if he was the sun filling her with warmth and energy.
“Miss Parker,” he said, “I believe this was the dance you promised me.”
His mother gasped. “Bedford, you have already danced with Miss Parker.”
Ann shivered inside Mrs. Jensen had explained that a man only danced a second time with a woman if he was truly interested. People would talk about little else. It was one step short of a proposal.
Lady Radcliff frowned, “And the next dance is to be a waltz.”
The Duke of Bedford never stopped staring at Ann as a slight smile creased his lips. “Good,” was all he said as he reached out to take her hand and once again lead her to the floor.
A Duke's Desire (The Duke's Club Book 1) Page 10
