Some Like It Wicked (Mills & Boon Historical) (Daring Duchesses - Book 1)

by Carole Mortimer

  Or the presence of her lawyer—a man who, in Rupert’s estimation, had been far too familiar in addressing her as Pandora—and those damned packing boxes in the hallway!

  Yes, if one failed to notice all of those things, then certainly she could be said to be completely recovered from the previous evening’s ordeal!

  ‘You will no doubt be pleased to know that I made enquiries earlier this morning and was informed that Lord Sugdon has refused all further social engagements and is at this very moment making arrangements to return to the family estate in Yorkshire by the end of the week.’

  ‘I am gratified to hear it.’ She nodded with obvious relief.

  Rupert rose impatiently to his feet before barking, ‘Enough that you will answer my earlier questions?’

  ‘I would prefer that you did not raise your voice to me, sir!’

  Better, Rupert acknowledged with inner satisfaction, as he now saw a spark of rebellion appear in those fine violet-coloured eyes. Much, much better. ‘Very well, Pandora,’ he drawled drily before deliberately making his tone more reasonable. ‘Explain, if you please, why certain of your belongings are packed into trunks, and you have been visited by your lawyer this morning. At least, I am assuming he arrived this morning?’

  She shot him an irritated frown. ‘There are trunks in the hallway and I have been visited by my lawyer—this morning,’ she added primly, ‘because I am to leave London.’

  Rupert scowled his displeasure at having his suspicions confirmed. ‘Is it wise for you to leave London at the same time as Sugdon?’

  An angry flush darkened her cheeks. ‘A mere coincidence.’

  ‘I am aware of that, but the rest of the ton is not.’

  ‘I thought we had agreed that the ton will say what they wish, whatever I choose to do?’

  Rupert frowned darkly. ‘I don’t enjoy having my own words used against me.’

  Pandora shrugged slender shoulders. ‘Even when they are the truth?’

  ‘When are you leaving? To go where? And for how long?’

  She gave a dismissive wave of her lace-gloved hand. ‘As soon as everything is packed and ready to be moved. As to where or for how long … I shall decide that in the next few days.’

  Rupert gazed upon her with narrow-eyed criticism. Had he been mistaken in regard to this woman’s courage the previous evening? The manner in which she had refused to break down completely after Sugdon’s physical and verbal attack? The steadfast way in which she had met Rupert’s every insult on the carriage ride to her home? ‘In other words, you are allowing society to win and have decided to run away.’

  ‘That is unfair!’ The colour in the cheeks was now entirely genuine.

  He shrugged. ‘Life is unfair, Pandora, not I.’

  Her chin rose. ‘I am not running anywhere, your Grace. I have merely decided that society is not yet ready to … to forgive, or forget, the events of a year ago.’

  Rupert’s mouth twisted derisively. ‘And it never will be if you tuck your tail between your legs and simply run away and hide.’ To say that he was disappointed in her would be placing too much importance upon their brief acquaintance. An importance his years of cynicism did not, and would not, allow for.

  Devil take it, he only had to think of the unpleasantness that had taken place after his return to Stratton House the previous evening to be reminded of the fickleness that was women. An unpleasantness which now made it impossible for him to allow this situation with Patricia Stirling to continue another day—no, not even another hour.

  ‘That is easy for you to say.’ Unshed tears now moistened the deep-violet beauty of her eyes. ‘I had hoped—’ She gave a shake of her head as she determinedly blinked away those tears. ‘I have realised, after the events of yesterday evening, that there is nothing here for me in London at present.’

  ‘There are your two friends, the Duchesses of Clayborne and Woollerton.’

  She sighed. ‘Yes. And I am more grateful than I can say for their friendship. But even there I believe it would be better for both my friends if I were to leave London, at least for a while.’

  Rupert snorted his disgust. ‘As I said, you are running away.’

  ‘Will you stop saying that as if I am guilty of committing some heinous crime!’ Pandora glared her frustration, thoroughly annoyed with both Rupert and herself for having so quickly allowed him to turn this conversation to matters so personal—in spite of all her previous determination to the contrary.

  She had decided last night, as she lay sleepless in her bed, that if the Duke should indeed come to call on her this morning—once he had found time to reflect on the social disadvantages of continuing an acquaintance with her, there was every chance, hope, that he might decide not to do so—that she would do everything in her power to ensure they met, and parted, as the polite strangers they were. However, Rupert’s current, and continued, insistence on dismissing all idea of social politeness between them rendered that distance impossible!

  Pandora shook her head wearily, gold curls bouncing. ‘You were in the army, I believe?’ she asked.

  His scowl deepened at mention of the years he had spent in the army fighting against Napoleon. ‘What does that have to do with anything?’

  She smiled slightly. ‘Did those years of conflict not teach you that it is brave to fight the battles that can be won, but sensible, even prudent, to withdraw from the ones that cannot?’

  ‘No,’ he stated with that now familiar arrogance, those grey eyes hard and uncompromising. ‘I do not consider any battle as being lost before it has even been fought. And you should also have learnt by now that the ton are a fickle bunch, given to fads and fancies. And the one thing they never forgive or forget is cowardice. I, and consequently they, will no doubt consider your choosing to leave London because of a single incident to be exceedingly cowardly on your part.’

  ‘It is not a single incident,’ she gasped indignantly, ‘but the last of many.’

  ‘You are being a coward, Pandora.’

  If Pandora were a woman who tended towards acts of violence then she knew that at this moment she would very much have enjoyed striking Rupert Stirling upon one of his haughty lean cheeks! As it was, apart from Richard Sugdon, she had never struck another person in the whole of her four-and-twenty years. She believed her years of being unhappily married to Barnaby to have slowly and inexorably dulled any spontaneity she might once have possessed, resulting in her now behaving in a cool and controlled manner in most, if not all, situations.

  It would be most unwise of her to allow the annoyingly implacable Rupert Stirling to rile her into uncharacteristically volatile behaviour now. ‘If that is your true opinion of my actions, then I’m afraid you will have to continue to believe that, your Grace.’

  ‘If you “your Grace” me one more time then I am afraid I shall be forced to take an action I guarantee you will not in the least enjoy!’ he warned through gritted, perfectly straight, white teeth.

  ‘Why are you even bothering with me at all, yo—er—sir?’ Pandora gazed across at him crossly even as those glacial eyes narrowed dangerously. ‘Do you perhaps see my possible restoration into society as a project of pity with which you might amuse yourself for a day or until you became either bored or some other distraction piques your attention?’

  That was a question which Rupert was as yet unwilling to answer. At this moment it was sufficient to admit that he needed Pandora Maybury as much as he believed she needed the protection of the Duke of Stratton.

  He shrugged. ‘My reason for coming here today—apart from assuring myself as to your well-being after the events of yesterday evening, of course,’ he drawled just as pointedly as Pandora had minutes ago.

  ‘Of course,’ she echoed drily.

  ‘—was to present you with an invitation,’ Rupert continued firmly. ‘From the Countess of Heyborough. She wishes for you to join her and the Earl in their box at the opera this evening.’

  Pandora drew in a sharp breath at
this unexpected—and totally bewildering—invitation. ‘As far as I’m aware, I’m not even acquainted with the Earl and Countess of Heyborough.’

  ‘But I am.’

  Pandora tensed warily at Rupert’s tone of satisfaction. ‘I don’t understand.’

  ‘The Countess is my maternal aunt.’

  ‘And she wishes to invite me to join her at the opera this evening?’

  The Duke raised arrogant brows. ‘I have said so, yes.’

  She frowned. ‘Would I be correct in supposing that you have also been invited to share that same box this evening?’

  He gave a haughty inclination of his head. ‘It is intended that I will make up one of the party, yes.’

  ‘And this party will consist of …?’

  ‘The Earl and Countess of Heyborough. You. And myself.’

  ‘Why?’

  His brows rose even further into his golden locks. ‘What do you mean?’

  ‘Why do you wish to act as my escort to the opera?’

  Those sculptured lips thinned. ‘I have my reasons.’

  As Pandora had suspected … ‘And are you about to share those with me?’

  ‘No.’

  Again Pandora was beset with the thought ‘devil by name and devil by nature’ … ‘Are you so determined to once again witness my public humiliation that you are even willing to enrol the assistance of one of your relatives in order to achieve it?’

  The Duke’s jaw tightened ominously. ‘Would you care to explain in what way my escorting you to the opera could in any way be considered a humiliation?’

  She sighed her impatience. ‘When other members of the ton present this evening not only ignore me, but choose to deliberately cut me. Snubs that perhaps might include even yourself and your aunt and uncle.’

  Rupert now looked at her down the length of his impressive nose. ‘I assure you, madam, that no member of the ton would dare to ignore you, let alone deliberately cut you, when you are in the company of the Duke of Stratton.’

  He may be right in that conclusion, Pandora acknowledged ruefully; he was certainly a man to be reckoned with, both socially and politically, and as such he was unlikely to receive an insult from anyone. ‘And what of your relatives—is their social standing also to be threatened because of what can only be considered an amusement, a whim, on your part?’

  He was every inch the aristocratic Duke of Stratton as he gave Pandora a pityingly look. ‘My aunt and uncle have no more interest in society’s approval than I.’

  ‘Even so—’

  ‘Cease this interminable arguing, Pandora!’ Rupert lost all patience with the conversation. ‘We are both going to the opera this evening, in the company of the Earl and Countess of Heyborough, and let that be an end to it.’

  Tears once again glistened in those beautiful violet-coloured eyes. ‘What possible reason can you have for putting me through such an ordeal? Did I, or my husband, cause you some unintended slight in the past of which I am unaware? A slight that now requires my deliberate humiliation as atonement?’

  ‘Don’t be ridiculous, Pandora.’

  ‘I’m not the one who is being ridiculous, Rupert—’ She broke off, an expression of confusion on her delicately beautiful face at the realisation that in her distress she had lapsed into the familiar way of addressing him, after all. ‘I’m sorry, but the very idea of accompanying you to the opera this evening is completely out of the question,’ she continued evenly. ‘I only attended Sophia’s ball yesterday evening out of a desire to please her and because she has been so supportive and kind to me this past month. But, I assure you, I feel under no such obligation where you are concerned.’

  Rupert felt a return of his previous admiration for this young woman’s dignity and calm. It might be a complete fabrication on her part, but nevertheless it was still impressive to behold. Also, he found her concern for others, namely her two female friends, and now Rupert and his aunt and uncle, not quite in keeping with the reputation she had amongst the ton as having been consistently unfaithful in her marriage, an infidelity which had eventually resulted in her husband’s death …

  ‘Did I not come to your rescue against Sugdon yesterday evening?’

  She eyed him uncertainly. ‘Yes …’

  He nodded tersely. ‘Resulting in his having taken my advice, in that he is, as we speak, preparing to depart for cooler and windier climes?’

  She smiled slightly at the use of his word ‘advice’. ‘Yes.’

  ‘Then surely that means you are now obligated to me.’

  ‘But—’

  ‘I will call for you here in my carriage at seven-thirty this evening,’ Rupert spoke firmly over her continued arguments.

  Pandora gave a slightly dazed shake of her head. ‘You have to be the most stubborn gentleman I have ever met.’

  He gave her a confident and wholly unapologetic smile. ‘I believe it has been mentioned before as being one of my character traits.’

  Pandora eyed him quizzically. Rupert Stirling was arrogant, dictatorial, sarcastic, even ruthless—as well as being exceedingly stubborn, as she had just accused him. But he also possessed a sense of honour where even a disgraced lady’s reputation was concerned, a mocking sense of humour that often included laughing at himself and a physical presence she was finding it increasingly difficult to ignore.

  Rupert’s looks and character were so completely different to those of her husband with his imposing presence, that arrestingly handsome face, impressive height and muscular build. Barnaby had been three or four years older than Rupert, but had looked younger with his boyish good looks and slight build. For all that Rupert was so determined to have his own way, he also filled Pandora with a sense of feeling protected and that no harm should befall her whilst she was in his presence, in a way which Barnaby never had despite his having been her husband for three years.

  Except harm from Rupert himself, of course …

  Pandora was not foolish enough to ever believe that he was offering her his public support out of the goodness of his heart! ‘I would still like to know what it is you hope to gain from such a—a public acquaintance with me?’

  Rupert raised his brows. ‘Why should you assume I have anything to gain by it?’

  Her eyes flashed deeply violet. ‘I may be several years younger than you, your Grace, and be considered something of a pariah by society, but I advise you not to assume for one moment that my lack of years or social standing in any way renders me a fool.’

  ‘I was not aware I had treated you as such.’

  She shook her head. ‘We had never even met properly before yesterday evening, and when we did it was certainly not under pleasant or flattering circumstances. Therefore, there must now be another reason for your seeming act of generosity in having persuaded your relatives to invite me to the opera. Perhaps it is that I am expected to act as a diversion of sorts, from attention being drawn to … to another relationship, which currently exists in your life?’

  Rupert had already known this woman to be beautiful and equally as stubborn as he, and in possession of an impressive intelligence of mind. He now knew she was astute in a way that would no doubt have reduced a lesser man than he to squirming discomfort! If, that is, that gentleman had been ignorant of the fact that Pandora had been privy to a certain private conversation between himself and one of his two closest friends … Although Rupert somehow doubted that the conversation Pandora had overheard had revealed all of the complexities of the relationship which currently existed between himself and the woman who was now his father’s widow.

  He gave a hard and humourless smile. ‘You, my dear Pandora, are expected to be here, ready and waiting, and suitably attired for attending the opera, when I call for you at seven-thirty this evening.’

  A reply which did nothing to answer Pandora’s question, as was no doubt deliberate; Rupert appeared to feel no qualms whatsoever in intruding and commenting on the privacy of other people’s lives, whilst at the same time refusing t
o reveal anything about his own.

  Still, she couldn’t help but privately believe his unexpected invitation to the opera was somehow connected to his stepmother, that in being seen in public with the notorious Duchess of Wyndwood, it would somehow distract attention from his other scandalous relationship.

  Whilst Pandora’s every instinct was to continue to refuse his invitation, her sense of fairness dictated otherwise; no matter how much she might wish it were not the case, his actions in rescuing her so dramatically yesterday evening meant that she was indeed obligated to Rupert.

  She sighed and forced herself to straighten her shoulders. ‘Very well, your Grace, I will accept the Countess of Heyborough’s kind invitation to attend the opera this evening.’

  ‘Why could you not have just said that five minutes ago?’ Rupert glared.

  ‘But only on the understanding,’ Pandora continued firmly, ‘that I won’t be expected to accept a second such invitation from you.’ She met his narrowed gaze unblinkingly.

  As technically the invitation had not come directly from him, but from the generous heart of his Aunt Cecelia, after he had called upon her earlier this morning and explained what had happened last night, he now felt no hesitation in agreeing to Pandora’s condition.

  Besides which, having to spend one evening in a decade attending the opera would no doubt prove to be more than enough for his own jaded sensibilities!

  Chapter Five

  ‘I sincerely hope you are pretending an interest in this drivel rather than actually finding any enjoyment in it?’

  Pandora did not show, by so much as a twitch of her bared shoulders, that she had overheard Rupert’s hissed comment next to her earlobe, as she continued to stare down upon the stage where the hero of the opera was currently—and rather loudly—lamenting his lost love.

  As promised, Rupert’s ducal carriage had duly arrived at her home at seven-thirty that evening, that gentleman looking suitably and—Pandora admitted inwardly—breathtakingly handsome in his black evening clothes and white linen, a cloak draped about those broad and muscled shoulders, his rich gold curls revealed as being fashionably dishevelled once he had removed his tall black hat.