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

by Penelope Redmont

  "I can see what's happened…" Catherine smiled broadly at her mother and sisters. "Well, my dears? Can't you?"

  "I can," Elaine responded. She sighed deeply. "Of course."

  Then both she and Catherine recited: "No one says no to a duke!"

  When Elaine left to speak with Felicity, Catherine waited for questions from her mother and Anne.

  "What's happened?" Anne asked, as soon as they heard Elaine's footsteps retreating down the hall. "Elaine is so pale. Is it Sommerforth?"

  Catherine had written to her mother and Anne immediately after Sommerforth had left Gostwicke Hall. "It is," she said. "Of course, he did not speak — he could hardly offer for her, after she made it plain to his aunt that she would not have him. He made apologies for his aunt. But now that he won't speak, because he feels that she won't have him… she wants him. What a coil."

  "What can we do?" Mrs. Eardley asked.

  "People are leaving town, for Brighton and Ramsgate. Or their estates," Catherine mused. "We'll stay another three weeks, I think. Then we return to Gostwicke Hall." She glanced at her mother. "Perhaps a house party — what do you think, Mother?"

  "At Gostwicke Hall? And you're inviting the duke?" Anne asked.

  Catherine shrugged. "We'll need to send the invitations immediately."

  The morning after Elaine and Catherine returned to Eardley House, Elaine prepared to go riding. While she was dressing, she pondered whether she should ask Felicity to accompany her. However, Felicity would still be asleep.

  No, she couldn't ask her. If Felicity had a horse, she could easily make her way, unaccompanied, to Kingston House and Count Volkov. "Silly chit," she muttered

  "Ma'am?"

  "Nothing, Denise."

  When Cormac helped Elaine from the carriage at the park, she found the Eardley stable master holding Joy's reins.

  "His grace's compliments, ma'am. Joy has finished her schooling."

  "Thank you," Elaine said sincerely. Sommerforth's stable master had done wonderfully with Joy. She would send a note thanking him, and include a generous vail.

  The stable master held Joy's bridle while Cormac set the mounting block, and helped her into the saddle.

  Sommerforth had returned her horse. She didn't know why that made her even sadder, but it did. It was as if she were losing her last connection to him.

  Joy snorted, and mouthed the bit, but strode out strongly, responding immediately to any command Elaine gave her. She shied just once, when a young man lost his riding hat, and the wind bowled it underneath Joy's legs.

  Elaine refused to feel miserable, although her heart ached. She longed to burst into tears again, but she held herself strictly in check. Whenever an image of Sommerforth appeared in her mind, she forced it away. She told herself that she would not think of him.

  Later that day, Volkov called. Elaine and Anne were about to leave the house to go shopping. They stared at him. He wore his left arm in a sling, with his jacket over his shoulders.

  He bowed to them both. "Lady Kingston, Miss Eardley — forgive this intrusion on a day you don't accept callers, but…"

  "But you'd like to see Lady Foxton," Anne finished for him. She turned to Elaine. "My compliments to Lady Foxton — please tell her that Count Volkov has called, and that she'll find us in the drawing room."

  Elaine marched into Felicity's sitting room without bothering to knock. "You've a guest!"

  "I knew he would call!" Felicity crowed.

  Elaine stared at her friend in amazement. Then in suspicion. Felicity was dressed in an elegant walking gown, with a new pelisse and hat. "How did you arrange this?" She asked. Then she realized. "You minx! You've been receiving messages from Count Volkov."

  Felicity kissed her cheek, and flushed bright pink. "I… well, so I have, and I shan't tell you how — Catherine spoke most rudely to me. She was very unkind."

  "I can imagine," Elaine said, admiring Felicity's hat.

  "Alexei has asked me to marry him," Felicity confided. "But of course, he's waiting for a letter from Russia. He says that if anyone says one word against me, he will stay in England forever, and will never return home."

  Elaine rolled her eyes. "Go to him. He's waiting."

  She reflected on love when she reached her rooms to shrug off her pelisse.

  Felicity was in love; there was no denying it. She was happy for her friend.

  A few minutes later, she followed Felicity downstairs, to another surprise.

  Morley had just opened the front door to Lady Merrill.

  Elaine stared at Sommerforth's aunt, and flushed. For a long moment, she couldn't say anything.

  "My dear, a word if I may?" Lady Merrill asked.

  Anne was chaperoning the count and Felicity in the drawing room, so Elaine asked Lady Merrill to accompany her to the library. As she led the way, her mind spun. What had she done? Was Lady Merrill here to berate her again?

  Mr. Morley followed them, and lifted his eyebrows at Elaine before he closed the door. She nodded her thanks to him.

  Then she was alone with Lady Merrill.

  "I'm sure you're wondering why I called," her ladyship said. She sat on a straight-backed chair, her spine perfectly erect.

  Elaine couldn't read the expression on her ladyship's face. She didn't say anything.

  "You wrote a very kind apology, and I thank you for that. However there was no need for it. David made it quite plain that I was wrong to speak to you, and I agree with him."

  Elaine nodded, struggling to maintain her poise. What did Lady Merrill want? This wasn't a purely social call, so why?

  "I asked explanations of you, so in return, I thought I might offer explanations for David's behavior."

  Elaine was shocked. Explain his grace? How? Why? "I'm not sure what you mean, your ladyship."

  "He had a mistress, Lady Hazelbridge. The countess is greedy. She's a clever woman — she knows that David is not the father of her sister's child."

  Elaine stared at the floor, wondering whether anyone had ever died of embarrassment. "Your ladyship — I promise you that there is no need to say anything to me. His grace did tell me, but none of it is my concern."

  Why would Lady Merrill say such things to her? It wasn't as if she were marrying the duke. He hadn't made her an offer. He'd returned Joy, and it was unlikely that she would see him again, other than on social occasions.

  There was a long silence. Elaine had no idea of what to say.

  "There's another reason I called," Lady Merrill said. "David has been paying you marked attentions, and as always, there is gossip. I thought that… Perhaps, when we see each other at a social engagement, you and I could speak. If we were seen to be friends, then there wouldn't be any silly chatter. Perhaps David might ask you to dance, and I would be pleased if you would agree. We mustn't give the gossips anything on which they can feed."

  Elaine's mouth dropped open in shock, until she realized she was gaping at her ladyship.

  What a generous offer lady Merrill made. She and Catherine had already spoken about what would happen now that the duke had dropped her.

  They had agreed that Catherine would fend off any gossip by ruthlessly stamping on any hint that Sommerforth had paid any undue attentions to Elaine. "We will firmly deny that he's done anything more than acted as a family friend," Catherine had said. "Few will believe it, but people will know better than to challenge me."

  However, with Lady Merrill showing Elaine attention, that would scupper any loose talk utterly — and it would give Elaine consequence besides.

  Elaine stared at the library doors after Lady Merrill had left. She was stunned. She was also aware that she had behaved less well than she might. Finally she walked to her desk, sharpened a quill, and pulled out some paper. She knew what she had to do.

  She had to write to Sommerforth.

  However, it was impossible to know what to say. She began the letter half a dozen times, but scrunched up the paper, dissatisfied with it. Finally she rolled
her eyes at her own indecision and scrawled some words.

  Your grace, I realize that I owe you an apology. I also owe you my thanks for all your kindnesses to me, and to my family, and Lady Foxton.

  I realize that Joy has enormous potential. She did so well with you, that I present her to you as tangible thanks.

  She signed her name, sanded the letter, and pulled out a stick of sealing wax. She softened the wax with a candle and sealed the letter.

  Without allowing herself to think she rang the bell for Cormac. "Please take this letter to Blackwood House. Then go to the stables and ask the stable master to deliver Joy to Sommerforth's stables."

  Cormac blinked once, then bowed, and left.

  Elaine walked to the library windows and stared out. If Lady Merrill and Sommerforth could be magnanimous, so could she.

  Gostwicke Hall, England

  Three weeks later, the Eardleys returned to Gostwicke Hall. Felicity accompanied them, but not without some grumbling.

  Elaine hadn't seen Sommerforth; he'd left town for Sommerforth Abbey. She'd expected that she would receive a response to her message or some acknowledgement of the gift she had made him of Joy, but she didn't receive anything.

  As she had promised, Lady Merrill acknowledged Elaine, and chatted with her, at a ball, and at two musicales.

  "I don't see why I can't stay in town for another week," Felicity grumbled to Elaine when they were packing to leave Eardley House.

  "Don't let Catherine hear you say that. She's still annoyed at you — you shocked everyone."

  "But Alexei hasn't received a letter from his family yet.”

  "Fee, Russia is far away, and he may not hear from his family for another month or two… at the very least. Be patient. Talverne has invited Volkov to stay at The Oaks, so you will see him then."

  They reached Gostwicke Hall on a Thursday. The guests for the house party were arriving on Saturday. Elaine was doing her best to hide her misery, but she knew that her mother and sisters were well aware of her struggles to appear happy and unaffected.

  On Friday, Elaine got up early so that she could ride out with Bendish. He was hiring extra workers for the harvest, and wanted to talk to her about which horses he should sell before winter. Elaine hated selling horses, but she knew it had to be done.

  She and Bendish were riding back to Gostwicke Hall when Elaine saw two riders at the top of a hill in the distance.

  "His lordship from The Oaks," Bendish said.

  "No, not Talverne…" Suddenly Elaine realized. "That's Sommerforth."

  Her heart began to pound, and she met Bendish's gaze. As she always did when she rode out over the estate with him, she was riding astride.

  Bendish chuckled. She'd told him that the duke had recognized her despite her "Fred" disguise. "His grace is a day early for the house party. I'll leave you to speak with him, I'm for my breakfast."

  Elaine felt dizzy for a moment. Then absurdly happy. What did Bendish mean about the house party? Suddenly she realized that Catherine had invited Sommerforth, without giving her so much as a hint.

  Much as she felt like riding after Bendish, Elaine sat on her horse and tried to control her breathing. She'd missed Sommerforth, she suddenly realized. "What's the matter with me?" She asked aloud.

  Sommerforth cantered towards her.

  He smiled broadly, and bowed to her from the saddle.

  "Your grace," Elaine managed. He looked as handsome and as elegant as he always did. His grey eyes studied her

  "Good morning Fred."

  Elaine blushed, then laughed. She inhaled deeply. He hadn't changed. She still felt comfortable with him. "You are well? And Lady Merrill?"

  "I am well, as she is. I thank you."

  "And Joy?"

  "Joy? I'm not sure what you mean – she was returned to your stables in London, was she not?"

  "Did you not receive my letter?" She realized that he hadn't. "I sent you a letter… and I sent Joy back to you — as a gift."

  "Shall we walk?" He didn't wait for her to respond. He dismounted, gave his reins to his groom, and walked up to her.

  He lifted her down from the saddle easily.

  He didn't release her, and she didn't step away.

  Finally, he let her go. "What do you mean about Joy?" He held out his arm.

  She hooked up her riding habit and laid her fingertips on his sleeve. "I sent Joy to your stables in London. As an apology."

  When she dared to meet his gaze again she saw that he was shocked. "Elaine – why would you do such a thing?"

  She shrugged. "As I said before, she belongs in your stables, rather than mine. Joy is special."

  "You've given her to me?"

  "Yes."

  They walked in silence for a time. She sensed that he was struggling for something to say, but the silence between them didn't feel uncomfortable. He was still her friend. She was relieved about that.

  "Thank you for coming to our house party."

  "You didn't know that I'd been invited, did you?"

  She laughed. "No, I didn't. But I am very glad to see you. I missed you."

  "You did? Elaine…" He turned to face her. Taking both her hands in his, he gazed into her eyes. "Will you be my wife?"

  She couldn't speak. She could only nod. Then he took her in his arms again.

  She rested against his chest. His heart was pounding as hard as her own. She looked up into his eyes. "Are you sure?"

  "About?"

  "About me. Your grace —"

  "My name is David," he said, his arms tightening around her. "Please marry me?"

  "Of course, David…" then she forgot everything, because his head bent to hers. She closed her eyes and gave herself up to his kiss.

  Some minutes later David lifted his head. He smiled down at her. "This is where we met," he said suddenly, remembering. "You should have realized."

  "What?"

  He lowered his head to her again. Before she met his kiss, he said softly, "no one says no to a duke…”

  She laughed. Then, when his lips met hers, she forgot everything else.

  Excerpt: The Lady And The Rake, A Scandalous Arrangement

  This is an excerpt from a clean Regency romance, The Lady And The Rake: A Scandalous Arrangement, it’s available now.

  Summer, 1815, Gostwicke Hall, England

  Summer arrived at Gostwicke Hall, the large family estate of the Eardleys, and Melisande Eardley, a sensible young lady of just 20, known to her family as "Melly", rejoiced.

  Not only did she love the Hall almost as much as she loved her mother and sisters, this summer promised to be the best summer of her life.

  Pierce was finally coming home.

  She laughed aloud as she stood at her open bedroom window, feeling the sun warming her, looking across the lawn and gardens, to the fields, and the wood beyond. Three miles away, on the other side of the wood, was The Oakes, an estate almost as large as the Hall.

  "Ma'am?" Her maid asked. She was holding Melly's day dress.

  Obediently Melly unpinned her hat from her golden curls, and divested herself of her riding habit.

  The Oakes was the home of her husband-to-be, Pierce Ward, Lord Talverne. Pierce had secretly asked her to marry him. She'd considered herself betrothed to him for over five years.

  Pierce was her best friend. They'd been together every day of their childhood, until he'd gone up to Oxford. In his first years as a scholar, he came home regularly. Although she'd expected and hoped that he'd come home more often, she hadn't seen him for almost two years.

  She refused to feel sad, even though she couldn't recall his face clearly. He's busy, she told herself. She knew that Pierce had finished at Oxford, and was now staying in London, at the home of Lord Linton, his fashionable uncle.

  Ton gossip said that Linton was a rake, but Melly knew how unkind gossip could be. Her temper rose when she recalled the whispers about her sister, Anne. Imagine suggesting that Anne had married Lord Kingston only because s
he knew he was ill, and sure to die in months! Kingston had died in a fall from a horse.

  Now Pierce was coming home to celebrate his birthday.

  Lots of guests were coming too. The large party would stay for several weeks. Carriages and carts rolled past Gostwicke Hall to The Oaks daily.

  Melly had marked the days off a calendar.

  "Pierce will be here next Saturday," Melly told her mother and eldest sister Catherine when she skipped into the breakfast room a few minutes later. "Just seven more days." She shook her head at the footman who came over to serve her. "It's all right, I know what I want." She piled two sausages, two eggs, and creamed mushrooms onto a plate, then slid into her chair beside her mother.

  When she met her mother's gaze, and glanced at her sister Catherine, she realized that the two women weren't smiling. She grinned. "Oh no. Tell — what have I done? Or do I have a smudge on my nose?" She reached for the stack of toast.

  Catherine, her eldest sister, a matron of 26, frowned. "Melly, Pierce won't be as you remember him — he's a man now. He'll be changed. You haven't seen him in years."

  "Not in years," her mother agreed. Mrs. Eardley had the habit of parroting statements with which she agreed.

  Melly buttered her toast, and forbore raising her eyes to the ceiling.

  Of course she knew Pierce that would be different, but he'd still be Pierce.

  "She's headed for a disappointment," Catherine said to Mother.

  Mrs. Eardley sighed. "It will be a disappointment."

  Melly refused to rise to the bait. She was happy, she told herself. And in seven days, she would be even more happy.

  Catherine and her two tiny sons lived at Gostwicke Hall. Her husband was away — with his regiment, or so he said. Catherine took motherhood seriously. Unfortunately this meant that she tried to mother her younger sisters as well.

  Melly took a deep breath, and took a vehement bite of toast so she wouldn't be tempted to answer. Responding wouldn't help. This was an old argument.

  Instead, she looked at her two rabbits, in full view through the long breakfast room windows. Melly had shut the gates on the enclosed garden, locking the dogs out. She'd released her two plump white rabbits into the garden to crop the grass, but watched them carefully. The dogs were cunning, and might find a way in.