Duke In Disguise (The Stafford Sisters Book 1)

by G. L. Snodgrass

  “No matter. It was not important. She is just a dear friend and one of the best gossips in London. Having her spreading our story will be helpful. Tomorrow then.”

  All Ann could do was nod her head in agreement.

  “Come, Norwich has left us the use of his carriage and footmen. Believe me, before the day is over, we will be in need of them.”

  That was how Ann was pulled into a whirl of activity. The first stop was at the Dowager’s favorite modeste.

  “She’s not French,” the Dowager said as they pulled to a stop in front of a small shop on a busy street. “But she is very good and very fast. I must say, I do disapprove of the airs the French put on. As if they know more about life just because they are French. Do you know what I mean?”

  Ann could only nod. She didn’t believe she had ever met someone from France, but would have to take her mother-in-law’s word for it.

  A small bell rang when they stepped into the shop. Ann was overwhelmed by a sense of color with a smell of laundered cotton and a subtle perfume that gave the shop a welcoming feel.

  “Your Grace,” a heavyset woman said as she dipped into a curtsey. “So nice to see you again. Although I am surprised. Was your last purchase acceptable? Is there any problem?”

  The Dowager shook her head as she removed her bonnet and then her gloves. Handing them to an assistant seamstress who had rushed forward just to fulfill that task.

  “No, we are here for my new daughter-in-law.”

  The modeste frowned as she looked past both the Dowager and Ann to the door, obviously expecting a lady to enter.

  Ann’s stomach tightened into a ball of pure embarrassment.

  The Dowager caught the hint of panic in her eyes and smiled at her as she took her arm.

  “Allow me to introduce Her Grace, The Duchess of Norwich.”

  The modeste’s mouth started to drop open before she could slam it shut then drop into a deep curtsey. Obviously trying to hide her error in not recognizing a duchess immediately. Secretly, Ann couldn’t blame her.

  “Of course, Your Grace,” the woman said. “Welcome. What might we do for you?”

  The Dowager laughed, “Obviously, everything. Gowns, day dresses, A riding habit…” then turning to Ann the Dowager’s brow narrowed. “Do you ride? My dear.”

  Ann could only shake her head.

  The Dowager shrugged, “No matter, we will get you lessons. The important thing is to have the correct clothes. Isn’t that right Miss Cutler?”

  The modeste nodded as she stepped up next to Ann and said, “Yes, and that is what we specialize in. Making a person feel appropriate.”

  Ann swallowed hard while she fought to control her racing heart. All the while, the modeste studied her, circling, mumbling to herself as she nodded. Then she pulled a marked ribbon from around her shoulders and started measuring.

  The Dowager nodded as she stepped to a shelf and began running her hands over bolts of fabric, obviously pleased to see her charge being taken care of.

  As Miss Cutler poked and prodded, she whispered numbers to her assistant who promptly jotted them down in a large leather-bound ledger. Ann felt a wave of worry wash over her. This was going to cost so much. Would Norwich be upset at the expense?

  Yet, he had told her to follow his mother’s lead. Surely the Dowager knew what she was doing.

  “Do you think I could have some dresses sent to my sisters?” she asked the Dowager. “They can make the necessary alterations themselves.”

  Miss Cutler stepped back, obviously shocked at the idea of someone altering one of her creations.

  The Dowager ignored her as she nodded. “Two each, I should think. One for the trip to London and the other to go shopping after they arrive.

  Miss Cutler’s eyes grew big for a brief second as she realized just how much business was being brought to her. Ann smiled to herself. It was probably a month’s worth of work and a year’s worth of profit.

  She provided the approximate sizes and color preferences for her sisters, then joined the Dowager in looking over the various bolts of cloth.

  “Here, I should think,” the Dowager said pointing out a beautiful cream cotton and then a dark blue silk. Ann swallowed hard, such fine fabric. Oh, how her world had really changed.

  “And,” the Dowager said turning to the modeste. “Something for today if you have it. The first gown by the end of the week, the rest as soon as possible.”

  The modeste nodded. “I have something for today.”

  Ann smiled as the assistant returned with a high waisted, empire cut, sky blue dress that looked like it had been designed just for her. She sighed internally. She could walk into any lady’s parlor in such a dress.

  After that, the day dissolved into a whirlwind of selecting fabrics. Talking fashion, and being overwhelmed with decisions.

  “And, Your Grace,” the modeste said as she returned from the back of the shop. “I also have this that I believe will fit perfectly.”

  Ann gasped as the modeste displayed a fine lace nightgown. The fabric was as light as air and as pure as snow. Her insides turned over as she thought of Norwich seeing her in such a garment. Her cheeks grew very red as she struggled to pull her mind away from the thoughts that flashed through her. Thoughts focused on him removing that very nightgown and then taking her, over and over.

  “Perfect,” the Dowager said with a smile. “Wrap it up.”

  Ann could only shake her head. Once again she thought about how much her world had changed. Beautiful fabric, people making her clothes for her. A man at home who would appreciate her in such a nightgown. And appreciate her even more out of such a nightgown.

  They finally agreed on half a dozen day dresses. Three gowns for balls, a riding habit, and a second nightgown. By the time they were finished, Ann felt as if her mind had been wrung dry.

  “It is a start,” the Dowager said. “You can add to it later.”

  Ann could only shake her head.

  “Now, my favorite,” the Dowager said as she pulled on her gloves.

  Ann frowned at her, silently asking for an explanation.

  “Shoes,” the Dowager said with a large smile.

  The rest of the afternoon became a blur. Shoes, gloves, hats, all at a different store. All requiring special attention. The Dowager seemed to know every in and out. What was appropriate with what. Which items were out of style and which were expected of a duchess.

  “Never forget,” she said after dismissing a particularly garish hat. “You are the Duchess of Norwich. People will judge the family and His Grace by your performance.”

  Ann’s stomach turned over. Everything she did from this point would be judged and evaluated. What clothes she wore. What friendships she maintained. Her words, her actions. Everything. And anything less than perfection would reflect poorly on Lord Norwich.

  The sense of doom that washed over her was almost enough to make a woman crumble. How did they do it? she wondered. The ladies of the ton. Always on display. They were raised in this world, she realized. Prepared from a young age. Taught and trained.

  Once again, her insides rebelled as she thought of all the mistakes she could make.

  No, she told herself as she held her chin high. No, she would do this. She had promised her husband. Said the vows before God and her friends. She would do everything she could to make this work.

  The next afternoon, Ann felt a sense of confidence as she greeted the Dowager. Wearing her new dress gave her a sense of rightness. Margaret had spent half the morning getting her hair just right. Such a simple thing, but so important.

  The Dowager nodded slightly, then smiled.

  “Yes, now you look like a duchess.”

  Ann’s cheeks grew warm with embarrassment. Inside, she was the same woman. The only difference was the dress she wore, that and the fact that a duke had made a vow, and she spent the night in his arms. Other than that, she was the same simple country girl.

  The thought of Norwich once aga
in made her remember their second night together. Like the first, it had been filled with exploration and pleasure. A deep, satisfying pleasure. But deep down, a sadness threatened her as she realized it could not last forever. This fire between them. No, there needed to be more if they were to build a solid foundation.

  Because Norwich did not love her, it was only a matter of time until he grew tired of her and moved on to another. She would remain his wife. But some other woman would capture his heart. The thought tore at her soul.

  “Come, we should hurry,” the Dowager said, interrupting her thoughts.

  Ann nodded as she rubbed her gloved hands down her dress. An empty hollow feeling settled in the bottom of her stomach. She was to enter the world of the ton. This was to be her first hesitant exposure.

  Smiling weakly at Old Stevenson, she allowed him to drape a cape around her shoulders and followed the Dowager out to the carriage.

  It seemed that within only a few minutes the coach pulled to a stop before a large brick home. Not as glorious as Norwich’s obviously, but still intimidating.

  The Dowager glanced up at the building then back at her and smiled. “Don’t worry. These are good friends.”

  Ann took a deep breath and nodded. It was only a tea. A way for her to dip her toes into the world of the ton.

  The front door opened and a butler bowed.

  “Her Grace, the Duchess of Norwich. And Her Grace, the Dowager Duchess of Norwich,” the older woman said to the butler.

  The man bowed again and waved them into the home. Ann quickly scanned the room. Sedate, was her first impression. No attempt to be ostentatious, nothing flashy. Simple decorations. Sober portraits.

  An old family of high renown, the home said. No need to announce their status. It was assumed the people that mattered would already know.

  The butler led them to a door, opened it and stepped in to announce them.

  Ann entered the room and her heart fell. There, next to an older woman was Lady Clarice from Brookenham’s party. The person who knew the truth. The woman who had set all of this in motion.

  “Your Grace,” the older woman said as she rose only to drop into a quick curtsey.

  Lady Clarice shot Ann a quick evil glare then dipped into the slightest of curtseys herself.

  Ann could only stare as her mind scrambled to find purchase. The Dowager frowned as she gave her a quick glance.

  “Lady Gresham, it is so nice to see you again,” the Dowager said to the older woman. “And Lady Clarice, this is a surprise.”

  Lady Clarice continued to stare at Ann. “When mother mentioned you might come to tea, I asked to be included. I do hope you don’t mind. After all, Her Grace and I are old friends.”

  Ann’s stomach tightened up into a knot. The woman’s sweet smile made it look as if she had found her long lost friend. But behind those snake-like eyes. Ann knew a dragon was ready to devour her. Of that, there was no doubt.

  The Dowager looked from Lady Clarice then back to Ann, her brow furrowed in confusion.

  Ann set her shoulders and gave her mother-in-law a quick smile. “Yes, Lady Clarice and I met at Lord Brookenham’s party.”

  The Dowager continued to frown until a realization settled behind her eyes. Ann had to marvel. The woman didn’t miss much. She had deduced the facts simply from the tone in Ann’s voice.

  “Yes, … Well, that is nice,” the Dowager said. “It is always nice to have friends amongst the ton.”

  Ann swallowed hard as she took her seat next to Lady Gresham and accepted a cup of tea.

  “So, tell us,” Lady Clarice said with a soft smile. “How is His Grace, the Duke of Norwich? How is he adjusting to marriage.”

  Ann swallowed hard. Was that a sense of familiarity behind her words? How did this woman know Daniel? Exactly how close had they been?

  “Yes,” Lady Gresham said, “I must admit, I never thought His Grace would marry.” The mother shot her daughter a quick glance and Ann realized that it had been their hope that Lady Clarice would be the new Duchess.

  Suddenly, a sense of pride filled her. Daniel had chosen her. Granted, he had been forced into it. And true, he didn’t love her. But that didn’t stop her from being the Duchess and sharing his bed.

  “Oh, you know men,” the Dowager said as she waved her hand. “Once they find the right woman, there is nothing that will keep them from the Vicar.”

  Lady Clarice winced and Ann had to hide a smile by taking a sip of tea. Her mother-in-law was on her side in this catfight.

  “Really, Your Grace,” Lady Clarice said with a frown. “It has been my experience that most men need to be pushed and prodded to stand before a Vicar. Either that or be trapped against their will.”

  The look of hate Lady Clarice shot her could have melted a broadsword.

  Ann shrugged her shoulders. “I have always believed, that no man is trapped into marriage unless he secretly wishes it. Especially not men like the Duke of Norwich. It is hard for me to imagine him doing anything he didn’t want to do.”

  Her mother-in-law bit back a quick smile. “Yes, well, thankfully, that is not the case in this matter. From what I gather, it was love at first sight. Isn’t that true, Duchess?” The Dowager said to Ann.

  Ann felt her cheeks grow warm. “I can’t speak for His Grace,” she said, as a sad feeling rumbled inside of her. She quickly put it aside. Now was not the time. No there were more important things to deal with. This woman in particular. “No. But for myself,” she continued, “How could I not I fall in love with him? He saved my life. So tall, so handsome. What young woman wouldn’t?”

  The Dowager smiled as she took a sip of tea.

  The two other women smiled weakly as an awkward silence fell over the group. Ann realized she would get no assistance from these two. She had taken the prize from them. The fact that Lady Clarice had caused it was beside the point. All they cared about was what they had lost.

  The conversation drifted to other topics. Obviously, no one wanted to return to the subject of marriage to the Duke of Norwich. Instead, they talked of fashion, upcoming parties, who was interested in whom.

  All of it seemed so silly, Ann thought to herself. At the heart of things. Everything revolved around which families would become connected through marriage. Which women could climb the social ladder? Usually in exchange for a large dowry.

  The realization shifted something inside of her. She would be of this world, but would never fully accept its values. No, she would keep her head. The thought settled a peacefulness over her. The Duke’s world would not change her. Not completely. There would always be a little bit of the country girl who saw through the ridiculousness.

  “We should be going, Duchess,” the Dowager said as she rose from her chair. “We have so many more stops this afternoon.”

  “Of course,” Lady Gresham said as she rose to see her guests out. Ann could tell that Lady Gresham was curious as to where they would be going next. The Dowager however simply smiled and nodded as the two other women curtsied.

  Ann followed her mother-in-law’s lead by slightly dipping her head, then looked into Lady Clarice’s eyes.

  The young woman stared back then said, “Please tell His Grace I sent my best wishes.”

  Ann’s stomach tumbled over at the look in her eyes. There was so much hidden meaning in those simple words. As if she had a connection with him that his wife would never hold.

  Biting back a smart response, she simply nodded again and pulled on her glove.

  As Ann settled into the coach, she gave the Dowager a quick glance. The woman was frowning as she raised an eyebrow.

  Ann sighed heavily. “Lady Clarice was the person who discovered the Duke and myself in the garden. Along with the Vicar of course.”

  The Dowager winced then shook her head. “A shame. I liked Lady Gresham.”

  Ann frowned. The Dowager shrugged her shoulders. “True, the woman always hoped that Norwich would select her daughter for his wife. But that was per
fectly understandable. Most of the mothers of the ton hoped their daughters would be the next Duchess of Norwich. I couldn’t hold that against her. Plus, she always had the best gossip.”

  “I am sorry,” Ann said as she realized how much better it would have been for the Duke to have married Lady Clarice. The woman would have made a perfect duchess. She had been trained for just such a role.

  And what had the Duke thought of her? she wondered. The woman was beautiful, intelligent, and seemed to be very familiar. Had he been tempted? Was she the kind of woman he secretly wished was his duchess?

  The Dowager smiled at her, “It is of no matter. We will simply let it be known that he had already asked you to marry before being discovered.”

  A sick feeling filled her. “That would not be the truth.”

  The Dowager laughed, “Since when did that matter. No, all that matters is what people believe.”

  Ann bit her tongue. It didn’t seem right. But this wasn’t her world, she reminded herself. The rules were different here.

  Chapter Eighteen

  “Where is my wife?” the Duke of Norwich said as he removed his hat and coat to give to Stevenson.

  “I assume the Library, sir.”

  The Duke nodded. The room had become her favorite spot in the house. Often, she would curl up on a chair by the fire and read while he worked at his desk. He had learned to enjoy such moments of domestic tranquility.

  Laughing at himself at the idea of him becoming used to marriage, he stuck his head into the library and frowned. No Ann.

  “Ann,” he called out as he marched over to the parlor. But again, his wife was missing. Upstairs? he wondered.

  Racing up the stairs two at a time, he was disappointed to not find her in her rooms or his, for that matter. A sinking feeling began to nibble at his stomach.

  “Margaret,” he said to the maid as she came up the stairs while he raced down them. “Where is Her Grace?”

  The young made blanched for a moment. Then pulled herself together to tell him that she had last seen her in the library.

  Now that sinking feeling was beginning to grow. Where could she be? There might be two dozen rooms in the house. But she couldn’t be off exploring without the servants knowing. Nothing got past them.