by Darcy Burke
Ivy stood. “My husband will be assisting us with the financial organization.” This was, unfortunately, necessary. It was frustratingly impossible to have an entirely woman-run endeavor. However, if any gentleman would help in the least intrusive way possible, it would be West.
“I’m sure Ned would be eager to help,” Aquilla put in. Fanny recalled that Aquilla’s husband was heavily involved in supporting asylums and could actually provide useful assistance.
“Thank you,” Fanny said. “And now, please enjoy some refreshments! There is ratafia and lemonade along with cakes and biscuits at the back of the room.”
Most of the women stood, and conversation immediately picked up.
Miss Stoke came toward Fanny with a tentative smile. “This is such a wonderful project. However did you find the courage to propose it?”
“I don’t think it was courage. More likely blind naïveté.” Fanny laughed. “In all honesty, I credit my sister. Ivy has such a compassionate and devoted heart.” And without assistance from a benevolent person such as these women here today, her life would be quite different. As would Fanny’s. She’d be married to Mr. Duckworth and probably fat with his child.
“I’m sure it helps that she’s a duchess,” Miss Stoke said. “Money and position allows many things.” There was no bitterness or jealousy to her statement, but Fanny wondered at its origin. She was correct, of course, so perhaps it was nothing more than an honest observation. Still, Ivy was so much more than her title or wealth.
“It does, but Ivy would be the first to tell you that it’s precisely because of those things that she has a duty to help.”
Miss Stoke’s mouth spread into a pretty smile. “I agree. I am very much looking forward to helping, however I can.” She leaned closer and kept her voice low. “We don’t have a very lofty position, but my parents are hoping my marriage will change that.”
“Are you betrothed?” Fanny asked politely.
“Not yet, but I will be. To an earl.” Her eyes shone with anticipation, and Fanny had to keep herself from saying she hoped she would be too. It was far too soon to expect a proposal from David, but she certainly wished for things between them to progress.
“I shall look forward to the announcement,” Fanny said. “And your participation in our endeavor. You should meet my friends Lady Northam, Miss Sarah Colton, and Miss Jane Pemberton.” Fanny escorted her to where the trio stood together and made the introductions.
Some time later, when the room was finally empty of guests, Leah’s nurse brought her in to see Ivy, who scooped her daughter up with a happy smile. “How is my girl?” Ivy nuzzled the baby nose to nose, then looked over to the nurse. “How is the tooth coming?”
“I think we’re through the worst of it,” the nurse said.
Leah grabbed the front of Ivy’s dress and tugged, causing Ivy to chuckle. “Someone is hungry, I think.” She shot a glance to the nurse. “I’ll bring her up in a bit. Thank you.”
The nurse inclined her head before turning and leaving the room. Ivy lowered herself onto the settee and dropped the front of her gown to expose her laced-front corset, which she quickly and expertly loosened. Tugging down the top of her chemise, she gave Leah free access to her breast to which her daughter happily latched on.
Fanny sat in a chair adjacent to her sister. “That went very well.”
“It did. Are you excited to get started?”
“I am.” She couldn’t stop thinking about the question regarding how she’d come up with this idea. “When Lady Satterfield asked—”
Ivy didn’t even let her finish the thought. “I could tell it gave you a start. It did me too, but I’ve stopped worrying about whether people will find out.”
“You wouldn’t care?”
“I would, but only insofar as it would reflect poorly on Leah and her sibling.” She cradled her daughter gently and looked down with a loving gaze that pulled at Fanny’s heart. She never recalled her mother looking at any of them that way. Ivy speared Fanny with a confident stare. “The only people who know of my background are you, West, and a small number of my dearest friends. And Bothwick, of course, but he’s too afraid of West to ever say anything.”
Viscount Bothwick was the man who’d stolen Ivy’s innocence, promising to marry her and getting her with child, then abandoning her. “He’s all but gone from Society,” Fanny said.
Ivy nodded. “Ever since West called him out in Bath a year and a half ago. Everyone thinks he simply insulted me and the fact that I was a paid companion. Our…history remained secret and will continue to be so.”
Fanny was still relatively new to Society, but she knew if a duchess were found to have been a former inmate at a workhouse and had given birth to a bastard, the resulting scandal would shake the ton to its core. Thankfully, it seemed that would never come to pass.
Chapter 5
There were so many people at the Webley rout, David could barely move. Still, he sliced his way up the stairs, using the advantage of his ascension to scan the hall below. There was no sign of Fanny.
He continued up to the drawing room where the crowd was a bit less dense. At last he located her, standing near the windows overlooking the street below. Her tall, lithe frame was exquisitely draped in an ivory gown trimmed with indigo ribbon and pearls. That same color ribbon wound intricately through the curls piled atop her head. Single pearls dangled from her ears, and a strand of them nestled against her throat. She was elegant and beautiful and seemed utterly untouchable.
Untouchable. That was supposed to be him, but right now, the word fit her better. At least from his perspective. She was also captivating and alluring, and he wanted her. And yet he should turn his attentions elsewhere. The promise he’d made burned in his mind.
Fanny turned her head, and their eyes connected. He walked through the crowd toward her, as if drawn by a powerful magnet. When he drew near, he belatedly realized she wasn’t alone. Her sister stood at her side, and David bowed first to her and then to Fanny.
“Good evening, Duchess, Miss Snowden.”
“Good evening, Lord St. Ives,” the duchess said. “If you’ll excuse me for a moment, I wish to speak with a friend.” She glanced toward her sister before gliding away.
David looked after her before turning toward Fanny. “That’s the second time your sister has left you alone with me.”
Fanny laughed. “I hardly call this alone. It’s a wonder we can draw a full breath.”
“It’s worse downstairs,” he said, relaxing in her company. She never failed to put him at ease.
“Why do you think we came up here?” she asked jovially. “In any case, we won’t be staying long. It’s far too warm and close, and Ivy is uncomfortable in her current state.”
David assumed she meant because the duchess was carrying. “Then I am doubly grateful to her for giving us a few moments.”
She turned completely toward him, her gaze seeking his. “I missed seeing you at the park the other day.”
“I’d intended to be there, but my mother and uncle arrived as I called on you. I’ve been a bit busy with them and with other nonsense.”
Her brows arched briefly. “Nonsense?”
“All the things earls must do. I have an even greater respect for my father and wish I’d paid more attention to what he wanted to teach me before he died.” Regret pierced through him. “I really thought we’d have more time.”
“I’m sorry you didn’t,” she said softly. “I know what it’s like to wish for more time with a loved one.”
“Did you lose someone?”
She blinked as she glanced away. “No. I mean, yes. I’m sure your father would be very proud.”
“That’s what my mother says. With her and my uncle—my father’s younger brother—here, I’ve been thinking about him more than usual.”
“All of it good, I hope.”
He smiled. “Yes. I’ve been walking in Hyde Park in the morning. My father and I used to take morning walks to
gether when I was a child. That’s how I became interested in birds. He always pointed them out to me, and then I would learn as much as I could about them to impress him with my knowledge.”
Her eyes sparkled beneath the candlelight. “And did you?”
“I think so. He certainly tried to find every book about birds and ensure it was in our library.”
“It sounds as though he loved you very much.”
He had. David’s heart squeezed. He wanted to change the subject. “I was disappointed when I couldn’t find you at the Newcastle ball.”
“My niece was suffering from cutting a tooth, and my sister didn’t want to leave her. Without a chaperone, I had to remain at home.”
“Devilish unfair, really. If you were a man, you could’ve gone by yourself.”
She laughed in agreement. “Indeed.” Her lids dropped a bit as she looked up at him, lending her a seductive air. “I was very sorry to miss seeing you at the ball. I was looking forward to abusing your toes.”
Now he laughed. “Then I should be delighted you weren’t there.” He lowered his voice and leaned forward slightly, looking directly into her shining blue-green eyes. “To be clear, I was not.”
She held his gaze for a moment before glancing about the room. “Are your mother and uncle here?”
“Yes. I left them downstairs.” Hopefully, they would stay there. He didn’t want to have to introduce everyone and move on, as would probably be expected. For whatever reason, whenever he was with Fanny, he could pretend he wasn’t the earl and that his life was far less complicated.
Someone jostled David from behind, pushing him forward so that he nearly crashed into Fanny. He clasped her waist to steady her. She lifted her hands and clutched at his shoulders. It would be a simple thing to lower his head and kiss her. Bloody hell, he was the Duke of Kisses. At least where she was concerned.
“Beg your pardon,” the man who’d bumped him said with an apologetic grin. His gaze drifted to where David and Fanny touched. They both quickly dropped their hands.
Fanny rushed to say, “I’m fine.” She looked up at David. “Thank you, my lord, for keeping me from falling.”
“Terrible crush,” the man said before moving on.
“I would glare at his departing back,” Fanny said, “but that was rather nice.”
As she flashed David a charming smile, his eye caught his uncle stepping into the drawing room and scanning the crowd. David assumed he was his uncle’s mark and sought to avoid being spotted. Offering his arm to Fanny, he said, “Shall we walk?”
“Here?” She placed her hand on his sleeve. “If you can manage it. This really is very crowded. West and Ivy and I didn’t plan to stay long.”
David steered them toward the back of the room so they could duck out onto the terrace if necessary. “The Duke is here?”
“Yes, but he is also downstairs. Lord Webley wanted to speak with him about sheep.”
“Sheep? Sounds like a conversation I should probably be a part of. We have sheep at Huntwell, and my father had been thinking of increasing the flock.”
“Do you want to go find them?”
“Trade you for sheep? God, no.”
Her laughter floated around him. “That’s very nice of you to say. Oh, here comes Ivy. It must be time for us to leave.”
David was loath to let her go, but he must. And not just because her sister was bearing down on them. Turning toward her as she took her hand from his arm, he offered a bow. “It was a pleasure to see you this evening.”
Her gaze settled warmly on his mouth, and he had the distinct impression she was thinking about their kiss. Kisses. “I hope it won’t be long until I see you again.”
“That is also my hope.”
The duchess glanced at David but spoke to Fanny. “It is time for us to take our leave, I’m afraid.”
“Yes, let’s.” She curtsied to David. “Good evening, my lord.”
The duchess inclined her head toward David, then they picked their way toward the door. They passed relatively close to Uncle Walter, whose gaze now settled on David with purpose.
Exhaling in resignation, David met him near the center of the room. “Looking for me?”
“Yes. Your mother wanted me to fetch you back downstairs.” He turned, expecting David to follow, which he did.
David couldn’t help but stare at Fanny as she and her sister descended the stairs a few people in front of him and his uncle. He watched as they joined up with the Duke and made their way to the door, which was open to admit new arrivals.
“She’s waiting for you over there,” Uncle Walter said, gesturing to where his mother stood in the hall. She was not alone. Two women—one close in age to her and another who was young—stood with her. David instantly knew who they were—the Stokes.
His gaze drifted back to the door in the hope of catching one last glimpse of Fanny. She was near the door, her head turned up toward him. Their eyes locked for what seemed forever but was in reality the barest moment, then she turned and was gone.
How he longed to follow her. But he had obligations, and they could no longer be avoided. He walked with his uncle to where his mother stood.
She gave him a reproving look before fixing a pleasant smile across her lips. “David, allow me to present Mrs. Stoke and her daughter, Miss Arabella Stoke.”
They curtsied to him, and he bowed.
“This is my son, the Earl of St. Ives.” The pride in her voice was unmistakable, and David had to remember that above all, she loved him and wanted him to be happy.
“I’m delighted to make your acquaintance finally,” David said.
“Yes, finally.” Mrs. Stoke laughed. “Yardley always planned to bring us to Huntwell for a visit, but it just never came about. We’ve been to London a few times, but you weren’t with your father.”
No, because he preferred the country. He directed his attention to Miss Stoke. She was far more petite than Fanny, with light brown hair and deep green eyes. “How do you find London?”
“It’s exciting, my lord. There is so much to do and see.”
“And what of that interests you?” David asked.
“I like visiting sites that predate the Great Fire. I appreciate history.”
“She also enjoys riding in the park and dancing,” Mrs. Stoke said with a laugh. “It’s too bad there isn’t dancing here, or you could see for yourself.”
“I would say that’s to Miss Stoke’s benefit, for I am a rather awful dancer, I’m afraid.”
His mother laughed too, and it was apparent the mothers were doing their best to make a match. “He’s not awful at all. And he just purchased the most gorgeous phaeton. You can see yourself in the shine of the black lacquer.”
Mrs. Stoke’s eyes gleamed with fascination. “One horse or two?”
“Two, of course,” his mother answered. “Spectacularly matched bays. Their black tails are the exact color of the lacquer.”
David was about to suggest that his mother take Mrs. Stoke for a ride but decided this was not the time or place for sarcasm.
“How splendid,” Mrs. Stoke exclaimed. “I’m sure Arabella would be delighted to take a ride.”
Blast. Now he’d have to avoid taking his phaeton to the park unless he wanted to take her for a ride. He’d wanted to take Fanny for a ride.
Blast again. He owed it to his father and the Stokes to give Miss Stoke a chance. And where did that leave Fanny?
Exactly where she was and had been. He’d made no promises to her. He suddenly longed to be as far away from this rout—and any other rout—as possible. He flashed everyone what he hoped was an amiable smile. “Please excuse me, but I’ve an appointment to keep at my club.” He looked specifically at Miss Stoke. “I’m sure I’ll see you again soon.” He glanced toward Mrs. Stoke and then his mother, bidding them both good night before turning to go.
Walter walked with him a few steps. “Your club? We were supposed to attend another rout.”
Dav
id gave him a beleaguered stare. “Must we? I’ve already met Miss Stoke, and wasn’t that Mother’s objective?”
A burst of laughter drew both of them to turn their heads toward the base of the staircase.
The Earl of Ware stood with a group of people who were all focused, rapt, on him. “The first race will be Wednesday, and we’ll start with the ladies.”
A woman next to Ware put her hand on his arm. “Truly?”
“Why should you miss all the fun?” Ware asked playfully.
The woman let out a rather undignified squeal, and everyone laughed. Whether they were laughing at her or simply buoyed from Ware’s exciting announcement was unknown, but neither did it matter. Ware’s gaze met David’s. “Ah, here’s my friend St. Ives. Have you all met him?” Ware made quick introductions as he beckoned David to join the group, indicating he should move to Ware’s side.
When he finished, David leaned close to him and whispered, “Is there any chance you’re leaving soon?” David belatedly realized he’d just left his uncle standing several feet away and hadn’t bothered to include him in the group.
“In fact, I am. Why, do you want to tag along?”
“Yes, please. My mother and uncle are here, and they require my coach to attend another rout.”
“And I can see you’re done with routs for the evening.” Ware chuckled. “We’ll depart momentarily.”
David smiled in gratitude, then went back to Walter. “I’ll leave with Ware. You and Mother can take my coach.”
Uncle Walter nodded. “Your mother only wants what’s best for you.”
“And that’s Miss Stoke?”
“Your father thought so.”
David flinched. “I’ll see you tomorrow.”
Before Walter could respond, David went back to Ware, who had just extricated himself from the group. “Where are you going, Ware?” a young buck asked.
“It’s a mystery. Why don’t you all place bets?” Ware’s mouth curled into a sardonic smile as he collected his hat from a footman and exited the town house.
David took his hat from the same retainer—how they were managing accessories for people was beyond him—and followed Ware into the cool night.
