by Amelia Grey
No, she could never marry a man such as her brother had become or like the Duke of Drakestone. Men who left their families for a different life in London and had no care as to how many hearts they broke or how much danger they faced would never hold her heart. If she were ever to marry, she would seek a quiet, sensible man like her father was when he was the village vicar. She wanted a man who loved his family and would rather spend time with his wife and children than with scoundrels at fashionable men’s clubs.
Louisa sighed. This predicament of being at the undisciplined duke’s mercy for now was her uncle’s fault. Or maybe it was her fault. If she hadn’t pushed her uncle to give Gwen a Season, maybe he wouldn’t have left the country without even telling her. He’d made it clear to her on his last trip to Wayebury that his only concern was that his new, and much younger, wife bear him a son to inherit the title.
Titles!
She supposed for now, for Gwen’s sake, she had to allow the duke to take care of them, but she didn’t have to like it.
Louisa faced the glowing embers in the fireplace. Watching the flames of a low-burning fire was soothing. And she needed comfort right now. She felt a tug at her heart, and her mind drifted back to the time just before her brother died. She’d been looking forward to her Season, only a couple of months away at the time. Her gowns, headpieces, gloves, and everything she would need were being made for her. Her education was complete. She’d been tutored and excelled in French, music, and dancing. She could draw, paint, and write verse as skillfully as any young lady her age. She knew how to manage a household filled with servants. Nathan had told her he was eager to introduce her as his sister at the many parties and balls they would attend.
She’d lain awake at night and dreamed of dancing with handsome gentlemen on candlelit terraces, tasting her first sip of champagne, and receiving her first kiss under a starry sky. But that wasn’t to be for her. After Nathan was buried, she’d agreed with her uncle that she should remain at Wayebury for another year and not upset the lives of the younger girls any more than necessary. And she had dutifully agreed to his same request the following year.
But she would not allow her sisters to follow in her lonely footsteps. Louisa was now content with her life. With no guidance or assistance from her uncle, Louisa had become her siblings’ parent. Her goal was to see to it that her four sisters were properly brought up and that they made a match with a well-suited gentleman. Her youngest sister, Bonnie, was only six years old. Marriage for her was more than ten years away.
Louisa’s shoulders sagged a little as she felt a stab of resentment. By then she would be thirty and much too old to consider love, marriage, and children of her own. But she was determined not to allow her beautiful sisters to become spinsters, too.
A knock sounded on the front door, and Louisa’s breath caught sharply in her throat.
The duke has come back!
He must have forgotten his hat or maybe his gloves.
She folded her arms across her chest. That was too bad. She wasn’t going to open the door to him. His hands could freeze or his head could get dripping wet, for all she cared.
The knocker sounded again. Louder. Harder.
She smiled, taking perverse pleasure in imagining the tall, strapping man standing hatless in the pouring rain.
But a moment later, her resolve weakened. She relented and ran her hands down the sides of her skirt. She had to go to the door. If she didn’t, he would continue to knock until one of the girls heard and let him in.
She strode purposefully to the door and opened it, prepared to do battle again.
“God’s teeth! What in heaven’s name took you so long to get here?”
A beautiful lady with coal black eyes swept past Louisa in a swirl of dark green skirts and a black cape. An older, stocky-built woman with a dour expression on her round face walked in behind her, carrying a traveling satchel.
“First, I have to endure a rainstorm for hours in a leaking carriage that was stuck up to its axles in mud. Then when the roads finally dried out and we get a new carriage, a wheel breaks, delaying us further. Dash it all, I thought I’d never get here, and when I do, what happens? I’m left standing on the stoop to freeze in the chilling rain.” The lady abruptly stopped her tirade and looked at Louisa and asked, “Which room do you have me in?”
Taken aback by the harsh, demanding tone coming from such a lovely lady, Louisa cleared her throat and opened her mouth to speak, but before a sound was uttered the stranger declared, “Never mind. Manny, go look over all the rooms and take the one you think will best suit me. If someone’s things are already in there, move them out. If I’m going to be responsible for half a dozen girls, I’m going to very well be comfortable doing it. Then go out and have the driver bring up my trunks.”
“Yes, madam.”
The lady looked Louisa up and down and promptly said, “Who are you?”
Louisa started to clear her throat again and thought better of it. She had already seen enough to know that she couldn’t show this person any hesitation or weakness. “I am Louisa Prim, and who might you be?”
The woman started taking off her woolen gloves. “Mrs. Ramona Colthrust. I take it you are one of the misses I am to chaperone for the Season.”
Not if I can help it, Louisa wanted to say but answered instead, “My uncle told me to expect you.” Louisa then looked up at the maid who had almost reached the top of the stairs. “Manny,” she called, and the woman stopped and looked down at her. “Mrs. Colthrust’s bedchamber has already been prepared for her. It’s the second door on the right. It’s the largest and the only one with two windows. I think she’ll be very comfortable there.”
Manny cut her eyes around to her mistress. Mrs. Colthrust threw her gloves on the side table and nodded once to the maid before swinging her cape off her shoulders and saying, “Lord Wayebury told me he had turned your financial matters over to the Duke of Drakestone because you haven’t the good sense to force the duke to make good on his promise to marry you. I assume that is still the case.”
Louisa thought, as if anyone could make that man do something he didn’t want to do. “I have no desire to marry him, and I would think anyone would understand my reasons.”
“Well, we don’t. Whatever your reasons are, they are foolish, and I assure you they have no merit. There could never be a reason good enough to refuse a duke’s offer of marriage. But I’ll leave that decision with you, as I am not getting paid enough to worry with such unwise behavior. I shall meet with the duke as soon as possible and advise him what we will need. We must get started right away. There is much to accomplish to get three ladies properly gowned for the Season, and there isn’t much time.”
“Oh, we don’t have to worry about me. I’m not looking to make a match this Season.”
“Ha! Of course you are. You don’t expect Lord Wayebury to be responsible for you for the rest of your life, do you? You need a husband to look after you and the allowance left to you by your brother. Heavens have mercy, he has six of you to marry off.”
Louisa stiffened. “There are five of us, Mrs. Colthrust.”
“Oh, well, yes. But he expects two of you will be married by the time he returns to England. We must get to it.”
Louisa didn’t want to get into telling Mrs. Colthrust about her feelings of being abandoned by her father, her brother, and now her uncle, so she thought it best to just pretend she was looking for a husband, too. Only Louisa had to know that she would never accept the attentions from a man or marry and leave her sisters without the love and attention she gave them.
“Now, I will talk more about this with you at a later time. I must get some rest so that I can see the Duke of Drakestone tomorrow and speak to him about what we need.”
Louisa caught her as she was turning away, saying, “I’ve already spoken with the duke about the things we need for the Season, and he said he would see that we have everything we ask for.”
Mrs. Colthrust w
hirled back to Louisa. She lifted her bonnet off her head, revealing hair as dark and shiny as a raven’s feathered coat. “You spoke to him? When?”
“Today. A few minutes ago. He said he would be setting up accounts for us in Town and that he would send someone around to see what other things we might want.” Mrs. Colthrust’s eyes darkened. Louisa could see the woman wasn’t going to like it if she wasn’t in complete control.
“Did he?”
“Yes, but I am glad you are here now to take over and handle anything he might have overlooked.”
“Of course,” she said, leaving Louisa no doubt she was miffed. “Since I had carriage problems and was delayed, it’s good you sought him to find out what was going on.”
“Actually, he came here to see us. My sisters and I have been in London almost a week. Perhaps he heard that you were delayed by travel and thought he should stop by.”
“Yes, I’m sure that must be what happened. I can’t blame him for wanting to keep up with the whereabouts and care of you and your five sisters. Every eye in Town will be looking at him and how he handles this.”
“Four,” Louisa said tightly. “I have four sisters.”
“Yes, well, however many.”
“Mrs. Colthrust, were you aware that my uncle not only left the duke in charge over our inheritance but made him our guardian as well?”
Her eyebrows shot up. “No, I didn’t know that, but I must say, now that I think about it, I’m not surprised. That was a very clever thing for him to have done.”
“Clever?” Louisa asked. “I thought it inconceivable that he would leave us to the responsibility of a total stranger.”
“Why? It’s what Lord Wayebury wanted. He wanted the duke to marry you, thereby making you and all your sisters the duke’s responsibility. Obviously since the duke failed to do that, Lord Wayebury took matters into his own hands and settled the duke’s debt to your brother.” Mrs. Colthrust laughed and then stifled a yawn. “I really must wash and rest before dinner. My journey has left me drained. Send the maid up to my room with hot water as soon as you can.”
“I’m afraid we don’t have a scullery maid.”
“Fine. Louisa,” she said testily. “At this point, I really don’t care what the maid’s title is. Just send one up.”
“There is no one here but the cook, Mrs. Trumpington. She’s older, and I don’t think she is capable of carrying water up the stairs.”
Mrs. Colthrust harrumphed. “Where are the other servants?”
“Whoever was here, my uncle took them all with him.”
“All of them?” she asked, clearly exasperated.
Louisa nodded confidently.
“That’s unforgivable!”
Mrs. Colthrust was unbelievable. It was perfectly fine for Lord Wayebury to turn his charges over to a reckless stranger, but she was shocked and offended that he didn’t leave any servants to help care for them.
“What about your servants from Wayebury? How many did you bring with you?”
“None. Most of them left within a year of my brother’s death. Other than our governess, we had only an elderly couple there with us. She took care of the cooking, cleaning, and the kitchen garden. Her husband did a wonderful job with the grounds, horses, and the carriage that took us to the village once a week. The only person who traveled on the mail coach with us to London is the younger girls’ governess, Miss Kindred.”
“Thank God you have someone to handle the younger girls, and I won’t have to worry about them. As the old saying goes, ‘Children can be seen, but they never should be heard.’”
Louisa bristled. First the duke was unkind about her sisters, and now Mrs. Colthrust’s comment set Louisa’s teeth on edge. She had never restrained her sisters from speaking or, as the duke could attest, playing in the house if the weather did not permit recreation outside. She wasn’t going to start putting restrictions on them now. Maybe His Grace was right when he said Mrs. Colthrust would not be a suitable chaperone. She was not endearing herself to Louisa.
“I will take care of my sisters,” Louisa said, knowing she had been the only constant in their lives the past few years.
“Really?” She gave Louisa a curious look. “Have you ever attended a Season, Louisa?”
“No, but I do have a fairly good idea of what to expect.”
“I think not. Let me enlighten you: Once the Season starts, you will have precious little time to do anything other than throw your tired body in bed to sleep and then rise again long before you feel rested and prepare yourself for another round of one social occasion after the other.” She paused and threw up her hands and said, “But I am much too tired to go into all that with you right now. I have no idea how we will make do without servants! I’ll just have to speak to the duke about this tomorrow as well. For now, have the cook get the water heating. I’ll tell the driver I will pay him to wait and carry the water upstairs after he brings up my trunks. And I will make sure the duke repays me—double. And you—” Suddenly Mrs. Colthrust stopped and smiled. Her face brightened.
Louisa looked down the corridor to see what had brought about the abrupt change in the ill-tempered chaperone. Gwen was coming toward them slowly carrying a tea tray.
“Well, now, I see I can forgive you for being tardy in answering the door, Louisa. You took time to send someone for tea. That was thoughtful of you, as I’m famished.” She pointed to Gwen and ordered, “Follow me upstairs with that tray.”
Mrs. Colthrust swirled past Louisa in dramatic fashion and started climbing the stairs. Gwen stopped by Louisa and said, “Who is she, and what happened to His Grace?”
“She is our chaperone, Mrs. Ramona Colthrust.”
“She looks severe, Sister.”
Louisa started to agree and list all the things she didn’t like about the lady, but quickly changed her mind. “No, no, not at all.” Louisa lied without compunction, not wanting her sisters to have any fear or hesitation concerning the woman. Louisa had enough misgivings for all of them. She didn’t know how anyone so beautiful could have such a disagreeable deportment.
“She’s very knowledgeable and will be a fine and dutiful chaperone for us. As to be expected, she’s tired after her journey. I’m sure she’s ready for a cup of tea. Take it on up to her.”
Louisa turned away from the stairs. She realized how many “if only’s” she had in her life. If only her parents and brother hadn’t died. If only Mrs. Colthrust weren’t such a rough-speaking chaperone. If only her uncle hadn’t left them in the care of a handsome duke who made her feel things she had never felt before, her life in London would be so much easier to understand and to bear.
Chapter 6
My thoughts are whirled like a potter’s wheel.
—Henry VI, part 1, act 1, scene 5
Bray gave his damp hat, coat, and gloves to the attendant at the entrance to the gentlemen’s club. He knew Seaton would be waiting for him at the Heirs’ Club, so he’d had the hackney drop him off at White’s instead. Seaton was as curious as an old dowager looking at the face of a new bride. Bray knew the dapper fellow wanted to hear all the details of his visit with Miss Prim, but Bray wasn’t ready to talk to the old gentleman.
He and Seaton had been good friends since the day Bray sauntered through the door of the Heirs’ Club in St. James’s. He didn’t have a godfather, but if he had, Bray would want the man to be much like John Aldrich Seaton. Bray’s father had taught him how to be an unemotional, pleasure-seeking man and a caretaker of the dukedom, but it was Seaton who had taught him what little he knew about being a true gentleman.
Bray had never forgotten that Seaton stood up for him when some members of the Heirs’ Club hadn’t wanted to approve Bray’s membership into the very exclusive society. Too many of the older gentlemen had heard explicit details of his debauchery, fights, and challenges. If they allowed Bray into their club, they feared he would bring in his unruly friends Harrison Thornwick and Adam Greyhawke with him, and eventually he did.
The old guard of the stiff-necked group hadn’t wanted the scandalous threesome in their exclusive club, making mischief.
There was little chance Harrison or Adam would ever be allowed membership in the club. Harrison had an older brother and nephew in line before him for the title, and Adam had an uncle and two cousins ahead of him. But they could come as Bray’s guests, and so they did—often.
Bray had no doubt every morsel of gossip concerning every drunken, pistol-shooting ride through Mayfair in the middle of the night and every salacious kiss he’d given his mistresses in broad daylight on London’s busy streets and the many challenges he’d made to poor blokes who tried to cheat at cards were true and then some. Still, it had surprised him that several members sought to blackball him, since he was heir to the Duke of Drakestone.
Seaton had been the first one to address the group and remind them that they were not to judge applicants. There were only two requirements for joining: Was he the next heir in line to a title, and was he of the age to join? Bray met both requirements, so there were no further arguments.
He and Seaton had been good friends ever since.
But right now, for some reason, Bray didn’t want to talk about Miss Prim to Seaton or to anyone. He wanted to relax with a glass of wine and think about her. He wanted to remember what she’d said and how she’d said it. He wanted to know what she had up her sleeve, too, for surely she had something in mind. Young ladies didn’t refuse to marry a duke without damn good reason. So what could hers be? Was it that she truly thought he had caused her brother’s accident?
He supposed that could be true of a fickle female.
The taproom was noisy and crowded, so he bypassed it and walked into the reading room. It was warm, and most of the big comfortable chairs were empty. He nodded to a couple of gents on his way to a vacant chair in a corner by a crackling fire and ordered a glass of wine to shake off the chill of the late afternoon. He swiped a copy of The Times off a nearby table, opened it, and put it in front of his face. That should discourage anyone brave enough from wanting to talk to him.
