The Lady and the Duke: A Dangerous Season (The Eardleys of Gostwicke Hall Book 2)

by Penelope Redmont

  Her partner lifted his eyebrows in question at her, but she could find nothing amiss.

  Suddenly she realized what it was — Sommerforth. The duke had danced with her, walked with her in the garden, and laughed aloud. Her face heated. She almost groaned at the realization that she was being looked at as the duke's latest flirt.

  She recalled Catherine words about the duke singling someone out, and then dropping her. People will think that there's a reason that he dropped you… They would have to leave town.

  Swallowing hard, Elaine told herself that that was nonsense. Wasn't it?

  After her partner returned her to her mother, Elaine looked up and saw Count Volkov.

  Oh no… Volkov was speaking with Lord Worley, a few steps away from the duke. Although Worley smiled, his shoulders were rigid.

  Where was Felicity? Was she aware that Volkov had arrived?

  "There you are my dear — it will be time for supper in a moment. Come with me to the retiring room,” Mrs. Eardley said, taking Elaine's hand.

  "No, Mother — not now. I don't wish to go to the retiring room," Elaine said, and pulled her hand away. "I need to find Catherine."

  "She was dancing... ah, here she is now… I must go." Her mother nodded to Catherine, and to Colonel Marsden who was standing close by, and left them.

  "Volkov is here," Elaine whispered to Catherine. "Sir Oliver will be enraged."

  "Where's Felicity?"

  "She was dancing a moment ago." Elaine looked around, but couldn't see Felicity. "Mother's gone to the retiring room. I'll go too, Felicity may be there."

  "I'll look for her in the ballroom. Perhaps she stopped to speak to someone."

  "Should we call for our carriage, do you think?"

  Catherine frowned. "No, not before supper. It would be thought odd of us to leave, unless Mother were unwell — but perhaps... Never mind, you check the retiring room. There's Sir Oliver. He's looking for Felicity too. Go," Catherine gave Elaine a small push.

  Where was Felicity?

  Although she was concerned about her friend, Elaine couldn't stop thinking about Sommerforth. She remembered the warmth of his arms around her, and his kiss. When Sommerforth kissed her, it had been nothing like Destry's kisses.

  Sir Oliver's kisses hadn't pleased her. He'd dragged her to him, pressing his mouth hard against hers. He'd frightened her and she'd wanted nothing more than to get away from him. Even now, months later, she was wary of him, and that angered her — most of all, she was angry that she'd imagined herself in love with him.

  With the duke, she felt safe. And his kiss… She sighed. She wanted his arms around her again.

  She reached the ladies' retired room, and as soon as she opened the door, she found Anne. "Have you seen Felicity?"

  "No, why? What's the matter?" Anne spoke calmly. She was always calm, whereas Catherine was fiery.

  Glancing around the room, Elaine saw that her mother sat on a sofa. She and an elderly relation of the Eardleys, one of her mother's cousins, had their heads close together.

  She checked the other groups of ladies and their maids, but she couldn't see Felicity. "Felicity hasn't been here?" Elaine whispered to Anne.

  "No my dear — when last I saw her, she was dancing — Sir Oliver glowered at her and her partner from the side of the room. Several people commented on it — he's making a show of himself, and of her. I don't like that man — he's threatening."

  "Volkov is here, so I need to find her."

  Anne's sapphire blue eyes widened. "Oh no — and Sir Oliver is here, trailing after the girl. Find her, Elaine, and see that she doesn't speak to Volkov, because…"

  Elaine knew what Anne didn't go on to say. If Sir Oliver found Felicity and Volkov together, he would call Volkov out. "I'll look in the ballroom again — can you keep Mother busy?" If Felicity was with Volkov, Elaine didn't want her mother there.

  "Of course — you go, I'll keep her here."

  As soon as she left the retiring room, Elaine saw Catherine. "Not in the ballroom?" She asked her.

  "No, and if she's not in the retiring room, that only leaves the garden," Catherine said softly. "Come. We need to find her."

  Elaine and Catherine paused on the landing which overlooked the ballroom. Elaine saw Sommerforth at once. Her gaze was drawn to him. He looked up, saw her, and smiled. She blushed.

  "Where's Volkov? Can you see him?" Catherine asked.

  Lord Worley was speaking with someone behind the duke. Elaine looked for Volkov. A very tall blond-haired man should have been immediately obvious, but she couldn't see him.

  "The garden," Catherine said, her tone hard. "If she's out in the garden with Count Volkov, I wash my hands of the silly chit."

  "She can't be in the garden —"

  But Catherine had already turned away. Elaine followed her sister.

  To her horror, Elaine saw Felicity and Volkov in the garden immediately. Catherine was already moving towards them, without haste, smiling and nodding at acquaintances. Elaine fanned herself rapidly, and slowed her pace, hoping that it appeared that she was merely taking the air after the heat of the ballroom.

  "Volkov, Felicity," Catherine's tone was mild when she reached them. "Have you recovered, Felicity? I know that the heat was too much for you..." Catherine spoke more loudly than necessary.

  Elaine took her friend's hand, and squeezed it. "Idiot," she whispered to her. She kept a smile on her face, but it was a challenge.

  "I — "

  "The ladies are taking the air?" Sommerforth's tone was amused.

  Elaine turned. He'd followed them. She released her breath in a long sigh. Everything would be all right now, she thought with relief. Sommerforth would make it so.

  "Mrs. Grove, and Miss Grove… Lady Foxton..." His voice also sufficiently loud to carry. He bowed to them, then held out his arm to Elaine.

  Without conscious volition, Elaine placed her hand on his sleeve, grateful for his quick thinking.

  Sommerforth glanced around, and anyone who'd been tempted to linger close by moved away.

  "Goodbye, Count Volkov," the duke said, his tone a blend of calm and friendliness. "So kind of you to make an appearance tonight. My aunt is pleased, I know... But Worley's waiting for you — you have another engagement?"

  Although the duke had phrased his words as a question, Elaine knew that he was ordering Volkov to leave them. She closed her eyes for a moment, and wished the man gone instantly.

  "What's happening here?"

  Sir Oliver. Elaine swallowed hard, and glanced at Felicity. Blood had flown from Felicity face. Where was Volkov? She prayed that he'd seen Sir Oliver approaching and had vanished into the darkness.

  Sommerforth moved slightly, so that he stood between Sir Oliver and Felicity. "Ah Destry," he said mildly. "Mrs. Grove and Miss Eardley accompanied Lady Foxton into the garden… The heat. Lady Merrill will be thrilled at the crush, but the heat in the ballroom was too much for the ladies."

  Sir Oliver moved past them, his handsome features hard.

  No one said anything for a moment. Turning, Elaine saw Sir Oliver glaring into the darkness. If only Volkov didn't appear…

  Bracing her spine, Elaine turned to Felicity. "How do you feel now, my dear? Are you recovered?"

  "Indeed," Felicity said.

  "Come," Catherine took Felicity's arm. "We shall take a few moments to rest on that bench... Your grace, Sir Oliver." She nodded to the two men, then, with her arm around Felicity's waist, guided her to a garden bench. "Sir Oliver —" She called. "You might send a footman for some brandy, I think."

  Still he stared into the darkness. Elaine swallowed hard.

  Finally Sir Oliver nodded, and strode back to the ballroom doors, where he spoke to a footman.

  "Well done," Sommerforth said softly to Elaine.

  Elaine looked up at him, compressing her lips, to keep laughter inside. She had no idea why she wanted to laugh, perhaps it was relief that Volkov had gone.

  Sommerforth chuck
led. He understood. He bent down to her, and she looked up at him. For a moment, her gaze was captured by his, and the heat in his slate-grey eyes made her gasp. He lowered his head further.

  "Duke!" Catherine snapped.

  With a start, Elaine remembered her sister. She left Sommerforth, and hurried to sit beside Felicity.

  Catherine glared at Elaine. "Sir Oliver," she warned her and Felicity. "He's still very suspicious. He knows that Volkov and Felicity were gone from the ballroom, and that we searched for her."

  "Should I send Cormac to call for our carriage?" Elaine looked at Cormac, who stood outside the doors to the ballroom, a few feet away from where Sir Oliver waited.

  "No indeed," Catherine was impatient. "We stay."

  Elaine saw Catherine pinch Felicity's arm so hard that she winced. "You, little Felicity, will drink brandy and be quite recovered in a few moments. We will stay at the ball until Sir Oliver calms. We can't have him hunting Volkov."

  Elaine saw Felicity's eyes widen at the realization that her lover was still in danger.

  "I think that's best," the duke said calmly.

  He moved to stand beside the bench, close to Elaine. "I'll take Destry to the card room," he continued, his deep voice low. "We need to convince Destry that Lady Foxton was merely overcome by the heat. Lady Foxton — can you perform this little charade?"

  To Elaine's relief, Felicity nodded.

  A moment later, Sir Oliver returned. "Here's the brandy," He handed the glass to his betrothed, his gaze still moving around the garden.

  Elaine inhaled deeply, then shivered. She moved closer to Felicity on the bench. How could Catherine appear so unaffected?

  They waited, while Felicity sipped, then shuddered at the taste of the brandy.

  "Drink, my dear," Catherine urged her kindly. She looked up at Sir Oliver. "Thank you," she smiled at him.

  Elaine blinked. Catherine was a pure wonder.

  Sir Oliver held Catherine's gaze, but he was no match for her, and finally looked away.

  Elaine released her breath with relief. She hadn't been aware that she was holding her breath. When she looked up at him, Sommerforth winked at her.

  "Destry — cards?" Sommerforth asked lightly. "The ladies can take the air until Lady Foxton is recovered, so a hand of whist?"

  "Of course, your grace," Sir Oliver bowed. With a final suspicious look at his betrothed, he followed Sommerforth back to the house.

  No one says no to a duke, not even Sir Oliver, Elaine thought.

  Catherine took the glass from Felicity, and drank the rest of the brandy herself.

  11

  The Eardley ladies were among the last to leave Lady Merrill's ball.

  "I wish to speak Felicity, and to you," Catherine said to Elaine inside the foyer of Eardley House. "Good night, Mother — you look tired."

  Felicity met Elaine's gaze, but Elaine shook her head. She didn't know what Catherine intended.

  "No, Catherine, I'm not tired — I wish to speak with Elaine, because know what I saw," Mrs. Eardley protested. "Sommerforth is paying Elaine a great deal of attention."

  "It's nothing — he's a duke, he's taken a liking to Elaine, what of it?" Catherine said crisply. She took her mother's arm, kissed her cheek, and urged her to the staircase. "You recall that we've spoken of it, the danger of him taking her up, and then setting her down, leaving her at the mercy of gossips."

  While Catherine was busy with Mrs. Eardley, Elaine whispered to Felicity: "Be calm, no one knows that you left the house."

  Catherine turned to Elaine and Felicity. "Into the library with you, my dears…. Morley, brandy and glasses, if you please."

  "I don't know what you're up to, Catherine," Mrs. Eardley complained.

  "Nothing at all — good night Mother," Catherine smiled at Mrs. Eardley, and nodded to the housekeeper, who led Mrs. Eardley upstairs.

  In the library, Elaine and Felicity sat on a sofa, while Catherine subsided onto a large leather chair opposite, and toed off her dancing slippers.

  After Morley had poured the brandy and handed each of the ladies a glass, he bowed himself from the room.

  Catherine drank, then looked hard at Felicity. "You and Count Volkov — what's happening? I assume that something is. Otherwise Destry wouldn't be determined to murder the man."

  Elaine took her friend's hand, and squeezed it gently. "Talk to Catherine," she said softly. "Please."

  Felicity colored. She swallowed hard, then the color fled her face. "I don't wish to marry Sir Oliver," she managed.

  "So I assumed. Why not?"

  Silently, Elaine urged her friend to speak, but Felicity remained silent. She look at Catherine, pleading with her to let Felicity be.

  Setting her glass onto a small table at the side of her chair, Catherine shook her head at Elaine. "No, Elaine. We need to have it out."

  The silence extended. Catherine didn't say a word. Nor did Felicity.

  Closing her eyes, Elaine took another small sip of the brandy. Why wouldn't Felicity speak? She knew her sister. Catherine would help Felicity.

  Finally Catherine sighed. "All right. We'll try this, Miss Silence. Has Volkov made you any promises?"

  "He wishes to marry me, but his family —" Felicity burst into tears.

  "Stop it," Catherine said mildly. "Drink your brandy, and compose yourself."

  Elaine handed Felicity a handkerchief. Felicity blew her nose, and tucked the handkerchief into her bodice. "Alexei asked me to marry him, so I need to tell Sir Oliver — and Mr. Baynes."

  "I see," Catherine said. "So that's what Sommerforth meant."

  "What?" Elaine asked.

  Catherine shrugged. "In the card room. Sommerforth said that he might be able to help Felicity if she wanted his help. I assume that he knows about you and Volkov?" She spoke to Felicity, but her gaze was on her sister.

  "I told him, at the stables," Elaine said. She was conscious that her friend gasped, and tightened her hold on Felicity's hand. "He can help."

  "Yes, he can," Catherine said. "The question is why he'd want to…”

  "Why did you tell Sommerforth?" Felicity stared at Elaine, and trembled.

  "Because he asked, silly — and I didn't mention your name. He guessed, I suppose," she glared at Felicity, and then at Catherine, who was suppressing a smile. "He wants to help, and as you're always saying —"

  "No one says no to a duke," Catherine finished Elaine's sentence. "So, Felicity. Tell me the truth. What do you want?"

  "I want to marry Count Volkov, but —"

  Catherine raised her hand. "Finally, we know what you want —! It's taken long enough. Well, if Sommerforth thinks that he can help, we might as well give him the chance. It's better than Sir Oliver calling Volkov out — and all the scandal that that would entail." She shuddered.

  "Do you think that —" Felicity asked.

  "I don't think anything, Lady Foxton," Catherine said crisply. "I'll send word to Sommerforth, and we'll see what comes of it. In the meantime, we can only pray that Sir Oliver's had a little dust thrown in his eyes. Come, off to bed — your maids will be waiting."

  In bed, Elaine thought about Sommerforth. She recalled his kiss, and the feeling of his arms surrounding her. Why was he being so kind to her?

  She had a tendre for him. She recalled that Miss Minty had been at the ball, but she hadn't seen the duke dancing with her. What did that mean?

  It meant, she realized that although Sommerforth was attentive to Elaine now, she would soon be like Miss Minty... Wondering why the duke no longer asked her to dance.

  He was a duke. He could do anything he liked, and no one would comment.

  She turned over in bed, trying to get comfortable. She had to stop thinking about Sommerforth. She didn't want to be a duchess, but she did want to be the duke's friend. She felt comfortable with him. She had told him about Felicity. He'd also appeared in the garden, just when they needed him.

  You can't depend on a duke, she reminded herself. She had
to remember that.

  The kiss... What did it mean? The question wouldn't leave her alone.

  He had a mistress. She remembered Lady Hazelbridge, and sighed. The countess was experienced, beautiful, and elegant. Beside her, Elaine looked like the stable lad, Fred.

  She had to stop thinking about the duke. She couldn't be like Felicity, indulging herself and her tendre. Falling into the dismals. Leaving the house, after dark, to meet the duke.

  That made her smile. Sommerforth would never ask anything like that of her.

  Catherine... She thought about her sister, who always amazed her. She wanted to be more like Catherine, able to take charge of any situation.

  Again, she remembered the kiss… She sat up, and turned her pillow.

  She had to stop thinking, and go to sleep. Sommerforth's stable master was bringing Joy to the park within a few short hours.

  Even though Elaine only had a couple of hours of sleep, she was wide awake when she came downstairs at eight o'clock. Cormac and Mr. Morley were waiting in the foyer.

  "Your carriage is at the door, ma'am," Mr. Morley said, and bowed. "Mrs. Grove and Lady Foxton will not ride this morning."

  She wasn't surprised. Catherine had told her that she'd be riding alone this morning, and Felicity only rode when she knew that Volkov would be there.

  When she reached the park, she nodded to the Eardley grooms, and asked them to exercise her horses.

  She was riding Joy.

  She greeted Sommerforth's stable master cheerfully. "Thank you for bringing Joy." She admired Joy's gleaming coat for a moment.

  The stable master held the mare, while Cormac brought the mounting block, and steadied her while she mounted.

  Suddenly she heard a carriage — Sommerforth?

  He left his carriage, nodded to her, then stepped lightly into the saddle of a tall black horse which a groom had brought forward.

  "Miss Eardley — your sister isn't with you?"

  "No, I'm alone this morning." She was ridiculously pleased to see him and she told herself firmly that she must not let him see how much.