What a Devilish Duke Desires

by Vicky Dreiling

  Chapter Eleven

  Two days later, Mrs. Norcliffe’s drawing room

  Lucy arrived early for the dance lesson and prayed that Mrs. Norcliffe would not insult her again, but she’d prepared herself. If Mrs. Norcliffe dealt her an insult, she would simply ignore it.

  When Mrs. Norcliffe had sent a letter requesting her dance instruction again, Lucy had read it twice, because she could hardly believe it, but even though she didn’t care for Mrs. Norcliffe, she wouldn’t turn down the opportunity. There was always a crowd in her drawing room, which meant earning money and possibly gaining new clients. It also meant she would be able to dance with Harry. Of course, they must be circumspect, but she looked forward to dancing with him again.

  As she entered the foyer, the haughty butler looked down his long nose and installed her in the anteroom, where she sat primly on a sofa. The high bookshelves tempted her to explore the leather volumes, but she thought better of prying in Mrs. Norcliffe’s home.

  Footsteps clicked on the marble floor. Lucy rose and curtsied when Mina walked inside. “There you are,” Mina said. “Gibson said you arrived early.”

  “I didn’t mean to disturb anyone; I just didn’t want to be late,” Lucy said.

  “Punctuality is a good trait,” Mina said, “although I fear I’m late more often than not.”

  Mina led her upstairs to the drawing room and invited her to join her on a red mahogany settee.

  “Ah, there is Anna with the tea tray,” Mina said. “I’ll pour.”

  When Mina offered her a cup, Lucy drank a small amount, but her cup rattled a little on the saucer, so she set it aside. The last thing she needed was to spill something on her dress.

  “Tell me about yourself,” Mina said. “Have you always lived in London?”

  “No, I lived most of my life in Westbury, in the county of Wiltshire.”

  “Havenwood is in Wiltshire,” Mina said. “That’s Harry’s property. Does the rest of your family live in London?”

  “No, my grandmother and I live here.”

  Mina regarded her with a saucy smile. “You need a husband, preferably one with at least ten thousand a year.”

  Lucy’s brows rose. “Ten thousand?”

  “You drive a hard bargain. Very well. Twenty thousand and your very own coach.”

  Lucy laughed. “Why not add a pot of gold?”

  “Oh, I like how you think,” Mina said, wiggling her brows. “I think love matches must be the happiest of all.”

  “Especially if they are accompanied by a pot of gold,” Lucy said.

  “I wouldn’t turn down the gold or the love,” Mina said.

  Lucy had seen the way Everleigh looked at Mina while they danced. They looked like a couple in love.

  When Mrs. Norcliffe entered with Harry, Lucy stiffened involuntarily. She rose and curtsied, but even though she’d prepared herself, she felt as if her stomach was tied in a knot. She hoped nothing would go awry today. She inhaled slowly and exhaled slowly and swore that no matter what Mrs. Norcliffe said today, she would not allow it to overset her. Of course, that would not prove easy, especially in front of so many in the drawing room, but she would endure what she must with her head held high.

  When Harry made eye contact with her, she averted her gaze. They had to be careful when others were about, especially his mother.

  “Ah, Miss Longmore, I see you are prompt. I do hope you’re prepared for today’s practice session,” Mrs. Norcliffe said. “Lady Jersey suggested My Lord Byron’s Maggot. Are you familiar with that dance?”

  “Indeed I am,” Lucy said. “I am more than happy to instruct any particular dance you require.”

  “Very good,” Mrs. Norcliffe said.

  Mrs. Norcliffe seemed far more genial today. Lucy hoped it was a good sign.

  Mrs. Vernon set up her sheet music at the pianoforte and smiled at Lucy. Yesterday, Mrs. Vernon had sent Lucy a missive explaining that Princess Esterhazy had decreed the dance at Almack’s this week would feature My Lord Byron’s Maggot. It was a particularly fun dance, and Lucy looked forward to instructing it.

  After everyone was seated, Lucy directed the dancers to select partners. Lord Everleigh stood up with Mina, while Justin—Viscount Chesfield—partnered with Amelia and Lord Fitzhugh asked Helena to dance.

  Mrs. Norcliffe brought a pale, plump young lady forward. “Harry, you remember Mrs. Osterham and her daughter Miss Hortense Osterham.”

  Harry bowed. “Yes, of course, I remember you both.”

  Mrs. Norcliffe smiled at Hortense. “I understand you enjoy dancing.”

  A blush seared Miss Osterham’s face. “Yes,” she mumbled.

  “Well, then you must participate in the dance practice today,” Mrs. Norcliffe said. “I’m sure Harry will be happy to partner with you.”

  Lucy sighed inwardly. She’d hoped to partner with Harry again, but it was not to be. All the same, Mrs. Norcliffe’s obvious maneuver was so awkward that Lucy winced. Poor Hortense’s ears grew bright red. Lucy couldn’t help feeling sorry for the girl.

  Harry regarded Hortense with a stoic expression. “Miss Osterham, if you are not previously engaged, I would consider it an honor to dance with you.”

  “Thank you,” Hortense said in a barely audible voice.

  Lucy wondered why Mrs. Norcliffe had put Harry on the spot. In Lucy’s opinion, it had been an ill-bred thing to do. Then she remembered something Harry had told her at Almack’s. I narrowly escaped dancing all night with a young lady nearly half my age.

  Was Hortense the young lady he’d spoken of? If so, this wasn’t the first time Mrs. Norcliffe had attempted to play matchmaker.

  The thought made Lucy’s chest tighten, but it was foolish of her to worry. Yet, she thought of that night at Almack’s when she’d seen all of the aristo girls surrounding him. She’d been a little jealous, but she’d pushed it out of her mind.

  It had been far easier to ignore a group of ladies vying for his attention than to watch Mrs. Norcliffe press Harry into dancing with a specific young lady. Lucy told herself it was foolish to worry. Harry’s reserved expression indicated he wasn’t pleased with his mother’s arrangement. Lucy felt sure he was trying to conceal his feelings for the sake of Hortense.

  When Lucy turned, she happened to notice Miss Osterham’s fingers trembling. The girl clasped her hands as if trying to control her vexation. Lucy couldn’t bear to watch Hortense’s mortification any longer. The sooner the dancing started the better.

  Lucy regarded Mrs. Norcliffe. “If you are ready, I will commence the dancing practice.”

  “Yes, please proceed,” Mrs. Norcliffe said.

  Lucy stood in front of the crowd and said, “Today we will practice a particularly fun dance called My Lord Byron’s Maggot.”

  Lucy hoped it would prove to be the best distraction for Hortense. Knowing the young lady was nervous, she thought it best to encourage all of the dancers to focus on learning and having fun rather than attempting to perfect the dance. Lucy vowed to do her best to put the girl and all the other dancers at ease.

  “Ladies and gentlemen,” Lucy said. “Before we begin, I wish to remind everyone that this is a dance practice. I will direct the dancers, but remember that we all make mistakes. At the last practice session, Lord Chesfield turned in the wrong direction, and everyone laughed. The practice sessions are to prepare for the actual dancing, and no one should feel embarrassed if they make a wrong turn or forget the next movement.

  “Now, if the dancers will take your positions, I will direct you. Lord Bryon’s Maggot is an amusing dance, and I’m sure you will enjoy it. First, we will walk through the steps to familiarize everyone. Gentlemen, dance forward, circle your partner, and when you return, cast off one place down the line.”

  After the gentlemen completed those steps, Lucy said, “Clap your hands together, and then clap your partner’s hands.”

  By now all the dancers were smiling as the ladies and gentlemen clapped each other’s hands.
Lucy was glad to see Hortense laughing as she clapped hands with Harry.

  “Next is the fun part. Gentlemen, motion your partner to come hither with your hand.”

  “I like this part,” Justin said, motioning Amelia.

  “Obviously Justin is eager,” Lucy said, making everyone laugh.

  Justin grinned. “I have to prove myself after my faux pas at the last practice.”

  “You are all allowed to make mistakes,” Lucy said. “Now, clasp hands with your partner, turn in a circle, and move down one place in the line. Excellent! You’re all doing very well. Now the ladies motion their partners to come hither.”

  “Mina, you may motion me to come hither whenever you please,” Lord Everleigh said.

  “Ha!” Mina said, and motioned him with her fingers.

  Everleigh skipped forward. “Whether thou motion, I will go.”

  Mina burst out laughing. “You have many good qualities, Everleigh, but you are no poet.”

  The ladies watching in the drawing room were smiling and laughing as well.

  Lucy directed the dancers to walk through the steps once more, and then she turned to Mrs. Vernon. “Will you play for us now?”

  “Indeed I will,” Mrs. Vernon said.

  Lucy was gratified that all of the dancers appeared to be enjoying themselves. At one point, Hortense seemed lost, but Harry saved her by turning her in the right direction. When the dance ended, Hortense was talking to the other dancers and seemed far more at ease.

  Lucy curtsied and said, “I wish you all well at the Almack’s dancing competition.”

  “Thank you, Miss Longmore,” Justin said. “I enjoyed this dance better than any other.”

  Everyone else chimed in their approval of the dance as well. All agreed it was great fun.

  Lucy was glad the practice session went well, especially for Hortense’s sake. Now she must wait until Mrs. Norcliffe directed her. She hoped the woman would not embarrass her again, but this time she was prepared to ignore it. She was proud of her dancing skills and knew she’d helped Hortense in particular.

  Mrs. Norcliffe linked arms with Hortense and escorted her over to Harry. Shortly thereafter, Mrs. Osterham joined them. They stood in a small circle talking while the guests trickled out of the drawing room.

  Lucy stood near a pillar, waiting for Mrs. Norcliffe to dismiss her. She regarded Harry from the corner of her eye. He’d clasped his hands behind his back, but his expression was inscrutable.

  All of the other guests had left. The cavernous drawing room was quiet, and she couldn’t help overhearing Mrs. Norcliffe and Mrs. Osterham conversing. She kept her gaze averted so that it wouldn’t seem as if she were eavesdropping.

  “Mrs. Norcliffe, you must attend us at Madame Delanger’s shop tomorrow,” Mrs. Osterham said. “I wish to order three new gowns for Hortense and want your approval before we make our decisions.”

  “Mama, I am unsure about the primrose fabric Madame Delanger recommended. I am having second thoughts,” Hortense said.

  “Well, my dear, I shall be more than happy to advise you tomorrow,” Mrs. Norcliffe said.

  Lucy tried to focus on something else, but the mention of Madame Delanger’s shop only reminded her how much she missed seeing Evelyn and Mary on a daily basis. Her friends were working miserably long hours sewing every day. Not so long ago, she’d been terrified when Madame had sacked her, but it had turned out to be a blessing.

  Once again, her thoughts were interrupted by the conversation taking place in the drawing room.

  “Mama, perhaps we could go for ices at Gunther’s afterward,” Hortense said.

  “What a lovely suggestion,” Mrs. Norcliffe said. “Harry, you must join us.”

  “I regret that I must decline due to other commitments,” he said, his tone a bit flat.

  “We shall change his mind,” Mrs. Osterham said, tittering.

  “Indeed we shall,” Mrs. Norcliffe said. “Harry, you do not want to disappoint Hortense.”

  Lucy suspected Harry did not appreciate their insistence when he’d already declined.

  “Mrs. Osterham, you must dine with us on Friday evening,” Mrs. Norcliffe said. “I’m sure Harry would be delighted.”

  The discussion about the dinner party proved to be the point of honesty for Lucy. She was not entirely selfless where Hortense was concerned. In truth, envy twined around her heart and made her miserable. She tried to think of pleasant things like taking tea with her grandmother and reading a book from the circulating library. She focused on keeping a serene countenance when she felt anything but tranquil.

  At long last, Mrs. Osterham and Hortense departed with many well wishes from Mrs. Norcliffe.

  Out of the corner of her eye, Lucy saw Harry approach his mother. He spoke in a voice too low for Lucy to hear.

  “Oh, dear me,” Mrs. Norcliffe said. “Thank you for reminding me, Harry. Miss Longmore, I do apologize. I quite forgot you.”

  Lucy couldn’t miss Mrs. Norcliffe’s gloating expression or her insinuation that Lucy was forgettable.

  “Please return next week,” Mrs. Norcliffe said in a jovial tone. “You may collect your wages from the butler.”

  Lucy curtsied and walked toward the door.

  Harry glanced at her, but Lucy averted her face and hurried out of the drawing room. She closed the drawing room door and hurried down the stairs. All along, she’d known that there was no place for her in Harry’s world, but right now all she wanted was to leave as fast as possible.

  She collected her wages from the butler. Then she fled the town house and walked along Piccadilly until she reached Green Park. Lucy sat on their bench, hoping Harry would come looking for her. He would make her laugh and forget all her cares. Perhaps he would even bring Bandit with him.

  She waited patiently, but forty-five minutes later, he still had not arrived. He probably had urgent business or an appointment. She decided to wait a little longer, because she didn’t want to miss him. When she heard footsteps, she rose, but it was only a servant walking a dog. Lucy checked the watch she kept pinned to her apron. An hour had passed. Harry wasn’t coming.

  Lucy considered herself strong because she’d had to make her own way in the world. She was proud of her courage and hard work. This morning, however, she felt a little blue. Lately she’d started fantasizing about a life with Harry. He was so determined that she’d begun to believe just a little in the impossible. While she cleaned at the Albany, she would imagine a small town house where she welcomed Harry when he returned from a day of working in parliament or with his advisors. She silently chided herself for spinning foolish dreams that would never come true.

  She told herself to be grateful that she had a steady job at the Albany and had begun to build her dance clientele. Nothing else should matter. But today it mattered very much that she could never be more than the girl he met at the park.

  “Harry, please close the doors. I must speak to you,” Mrs. Norcliffe said after Lucy retreated.

  With an exasperated sigh, he did her bidding. “Mama, what is this about?”

  “Please be seated.”

  He took a chair near his mother and gave her a hard look. “Make it quick, please. I have important business today.” He’d hoped to see Lucy at the park after the dance practice, but his mother and Mrs. Osterham had delayed him with all of their frivolous plans. He’d known from the beginning that his mother had meant to trap him with her matchmaking schemes.

  “I will not detain you overly long,” Mrs. Norcliffe said. “I wish to remind you that this Saturday is my annual Venetian breakfast. You will attend, of course.”

  He folded his arms over his chest. “I have no recollection of you telling me about your garden party.”

  Mrs. Norcliffe lifted her chin. “It is a Venetian breakfast. I hold it every year, as you’re well aware.”

  He drummed his fingers on the arm of his chair. “You gave me insufficient notice. Unfortunately, I have other plans.” He didn’t, but he
knew damn well she intended to force Hortense on him again.

  “You will have to cancel your plans,” Mrs. Norcliffe said.

  “I won’t be there. In the future, I recommend you notify me sooner,” he said in a stern tone.

  Mrs. Norcliffe shook her fan open. “Do not be tiresome, Harry.”

  He rose. “I’ll not attend.”

  Mrs. Norcliffe smacked her fan on the sofa arm and broke one of the sticks. “You are in one of your perverse moods, but I will not allow you to vex me. I have spoken to Mrs. Osterham. She has agreed that you may squire Hortense to the goldfish bridge at the Venetian breakfast.”

  His mother was nothing if not predictable. “You concocted these plans without consulting me. Let me be clear. You will not manipulate me again, and I will not escort Miss Osterham at your party or anywhere else for that matter.”

  “Harry, if you do not escort Hortense, you will wound Mrs. Osterham and her daughter.”

  “I’m not the one who will be responsible for the wounds,” he said. “You made the plans. Now you must explain to Mrs. Osterham that you made a mistake.”

  “Harry,” she said in shocked tones. “You cannot refuse.”

  “I can and I will. Let this be a lesson to you. While we are on the topic of Miss Osterham, I wish to make it clear that I have no interest in courting the young lady. This is the second time you have coerced me into dancing with Hortense. It will be the last time. I am entirely too old for someone of her tender years.”

  “She is almost eighteen years old, a perfectly suitable age for marriage.”

  “Did you not mark Miss Osterham’s discomfort in the drawing room? She was mortified. You went too far today.”

  “She is merely young. I will take her in hand after you are married,” Mrs. Norcliffe said.

  He stared at her. It was as if she hadn’t listened to a word he’d uttered. “I am not marrying Hortense,” he said. “I am not attracted to her. I’m sure one day she will make a wonderful wife for some other man, but it will not be me.”