The Orphan and the Duke

by Jillian Chantal

  Basil knew he was being foolish in leaving his own ballroom just because someone knocked on the door. For all he knew, it was his butler to tell him some business acquaintance had come to call or maybe even Myles Cuthbert with news from his wife. Why can’t I merely tell Vonda to depart from my home and never return?

  His mother had taught him to be kind and gentlemanly, and he tried, really tried, but that woman got under his skin and in his mind. He felt it was better to avoid her than to subject himself to her presence. The thing he was most afraid of was losing his temper with her and becoming the subject of gossip, even more gossip than when he and his sisters lost their family and he lost his carefree days.

  He pressed on the wall beside the window seat. Slipping into the secret passageway, Basil took a deep breath. The air inside the dark alley-like path was always stale and rancid. He wondered, not for the first time, what may have died in there at some point in the history of the manor.

  Basil made his way down to the other end of the passage and let himself into his study beside the fireplace. A small fire burned, making the room cozy on the slightly chilly day. Silently thanking the ancestor who devised the hallway so he could sneak away from his wife’s soirees when he got bored, Basil sat at his desk and pulled out one of his ledgers. May as well get some work done before the morning is over. He opened one, and the front of the book hit his desktop with a satisfying thud.

  Sometimes he studied entries that were years old. He liked to see his father’s and grandfather’s handwriting on the pages. Reading the old material showed him he was on the right path with the way he was running the estate. He needed all the confidence he could muster in the unfamiliar and daunting task set before him.

  He silently vowed that he would make sure his sons—should he have any—knew the inner workings of an estate so they’d never find themselves in the same predicament he had. Then it dawned on him that he needed to be teaching his cousin the business since he was the next in line to inherit the estate. That fact hit him in the face. Dear God, what will happen to my sisters if I die?

  In a bit of a panic about their fates, almost as if the angel of death were upon him, Basil leapt from his chair. He paced back and forth in front of the fireplace then poked around at the burning log for a few seconds until his heartbeat slowed down a little.

  I need to find a bride. That way, if I die and leave a widow pregnant with an heir, someone will be able to take care of my sisters. Oh, why can’t life be easy? Like it had been two years ago?

  Another thought came to him. If I can get both of my sisters married, they will have protectors in their husbands. He wasn’t sure that was a firm plan since they seemed too young to him to marry. The ton was of the opinion, however, that sixteen was an acceptable age to become a wife.

  Realizing he couldn’t solve the problem in his study, he pushed the ideas aside and forced himself to focus on his ledger. He did make a note to send a letter to his solicitor to set up a trust for his sisters, though.

  Studying his papers and keeping all other thoughts out of his head, he was surprised when he saw that more than an hour had passed. His stomach told him it was past time for something to eat.

  There was a tap on the door. Swinton poked his head inside. “Sir, Miss Van Eizenga has left, and the other ladies have eaten. Would you like to be served here?”

  “No, I’ll come to the table. Why didn’t you call me sooner? I would have dined with my sisters.”

  “I suspected your lordship wouldn’t want to since Miss Van Eizenga joined the ladies for their meal. I am sorry if you’d have rather—”

  “No, no.” Basil held up his right hand. “You did the right thing. I’ll come to the dining room and have my meal. At least I will have some peace away from Miss Van Eizenga. Perhaps that will aid in my digestion.” He stood and followed his butler out of the study.

  On the way to be served, he passed Amelia in the corridor. “Sorry to have missed dining with you ladies.”

  “I think not, Your Grace. You were lucky to miss that meal.”

  He stopped and touched her on the upper arm. “It was that horrible?”

  “Oh, you have no idea. Between you and me, I don’t envy you your position.”

  “You wouldn’t want to be a duke?”

  “Of course not.” Amelia laughed. Basil thought it was delightful. “I meant your position where two women appear ready to scratch and bite each other in their effort to win you. Neither of them would be someone I’d want to encounter in my home. I can’t say I blame you for skulking off.”

  “Is that what you think I did?”

  “It seemed so to me, but don’t be offended. I said I don’t blame you.”

  “I’m not offended.” Basil was surprised that he actually was offended by her remark. Why does it matter what this chit thinks of me? So what if I wanted to avoid the two ladies who have caused me such trouble? Who is this little slip of a miss to question me?

  Aware that he was losing his temper, something he had vowed not to do in the presence of any woman, he bowed. “Please excuse me. I’m suddenly famished.”

  He turned from her and followed Swinton to the dining room.

  Attacking his beef as if it were a deer he needed to gut, Basil kept berating himself. Why am I allowing someone in my employ to make me question my own actions? This is a problem. If the lady works for me, shouldn’t she be desiring my good opinion and not me desiring hers?

  Eventually he slammed his fork on the table. “Confound it. I can’t bear this.”

  He rose from his chair, shoving it backward in the process, and stalked down the corridor to the parlor, ready to confront Susan Mandeville about her behavior in his house. If she had been rude at the dinner table as indicated by her cousin, he would certainly put a stop to it. He’d ask her to leave and not return. He refused to sit back and allow people in his home he didn’t want there.

  Opening the door to the room so fast it bounced on the hinges, Basil opened his mouth to say something to the lady in question, but the room was empty. He glanced around in bewilderment, the words he intended to say frozen on his tongue.

  Chapter 9

  The dressmaker’s shop was full of giggles and admiring glances between the two sisters and their brother. Everyone, it seemed, was pleased with the way the court gowns had turned out. Amelia was as well, but it did remind her of her position. Such finery will never be for me. She placed her hand inside her reticule and rubbed her fingers across the object she always kept near. It soothed her when she was anxious or sad.

  She didn’t begrudge the young ladies their excitement over the upcoming events, but she found it difficult to stand by and watch it. At least Susan isn’t here. Elizabeth had decided she wanted to be with Susan when she had her final fitting and took her gown home. Their trip was set for the afternoon while the Staunton girls had a morning appointment.

  “Look how nicely the lighter train turned out, Miss Amelia.” Jonquil held out some of the fabric toward Amelia. “Come and feel how lovely it is.”

  Amelia stepped over and dutifully admired the garment.

  “Now come see mine,” Saffron said.

  “They’re both quite beautiful, and you each look like royalty in them. I’m not sure the queen won’t mistake you for some of her own daughters.” Amelia smiled at the evident delight on their faces.

  Basil stood to the side in nearly the same spot as the first time she met them. She wondered why he kept to the shadows in such an establishment. Why does a duke of the realm feel the need to hide? She didn’t understand it at all.

  From the corner, came the sound of his voice. “How about we take off the finery before it becomes soiled? I’m suddenly craving something sweet. There’s a café around the corner. What say you all to a treat?”

  “That would be lovely, Bas
il. Come along, Jonquil, we need to change.” Saffron pulled her sister by the arm toward the curtain where the dressing rooms were located.

  “Don’t ruin my gown. I’m coming.”

  They disappeared to the back of the shop, and Amelia was left alone with Basil.

  At a loss for words, she didn’t say anything.

  Finally, he broke the silence. “I owe you a debt of gratitude.”

  “Oh no, sir. You’re paying me well for my services. And really, all I ask when your sisters are out in society is that you perhaps find the time to recommend me to some others of your acquaintance.”

  “While I would be happy to do so, I am grateful to you. My sisters have been incorrigible and wild since my parents died, and you seem to have settled them down considerably. So I want to express my thanks to you for that.”

  “You’re very welcome then, although I’m not sure I am the one to have wrought such a change in them.”

  “I certainly don’t think it was Archimedes.”

  There he is again, making a joke. The man is a mystery for sure. He seems so serious, and then he surprises me with a witty remark.

  “What wasn’t Archimedes?” Saffron asked as she came through the curtain, followed by Jonquil.

  “Never mind,” the duke said and held his arm out to Amelia.

  Shocked at his gesture, she hesitated for a second before placing her arm through his.

  “You two better hurry along in front of us before we arrive at the café first and eat all the cakes.” He opened the door to let his sisters pass, as well as Amelia, then took hold of her arm again to walk down the street.

  Amelia was sure everyone in the city was watching her stroll along with a titled gentleman. Overstepping my bounds. Way over my bounds. Thank goodness Susan isn’t here. Having Susan there would have been a disaster and a public scandal, as her cousin wouldn’t have stood quietly by while Amelia walked with the duke.

  Though she hoped that news of her escort through town wouldn’t get back to her aunt and uncle since they wanted their daughter to be the one walking arm in arm with the duke, Amelia couldn’t help but enjoy the niceness of the occasion. The sunny day that seemed to have dimmed while she was watching the sisters in their new gowns had suddenly brightened. The sky was a deep blue, and the clouds floated on the air just the same as Amelia’s feet seemed to.

  She knew she was being silly taking as much joy from the little bit of attention the duke was paying her, but she couldn’t help it. Keenly aware that he was merely grateful for all the help she’d given with his sisters, she still relished the feel of his strong forearm under the palm of her gloved hand.

  Soon, too soon for Amelia, they arrived the café. The duke opened the door and allowed the three ladies to precede him into the building. Saffron led the way to a table in a corner.

  Once they were all seated, the duke asked Saffron, “Why did you pick this out of the way table? Don’t you usually want to be where you can be seen and see who else is around?”

  “I thought maybe Miss Amelia wouldn’t want to be in the middle of the room, and I know Jonquil prefers to be to the side.”

  “That’s very kind of you to think about me and your sister that way. I confess, I would be less comfortable in the center.” Amelia reached over and patted Saffron on her hand where it lay on the tabletop.

  “What shall we have? Some chocolate, maybe?” Jonquil asked.

  “That sounds divine. I’ll have that.” Amelia didn’t want to tell them her experience with cafés was quite limited. She’d not been to many and wasn’t familiar with what was offered, so she chose to order the same as Jonquil. She figured she wouldn’t be found out if she did so.

  “And some cakes, surely?” the duke asked.

  “Of course.” Saffron nodded. “We must have cake.”

  The duke placed their order, and as they waited to be served, Amelia glanced around the room. It was a crush of people. The food must be good if the whole of London wants to eat here.

  A tall man in a dark coat with fawn trousers made his way to their table. He appeared to be heading straight for Saffron’s chair. As far as Amelia was aware, the girl had no suitors, so she was curious to see what he might say.

  The duke’s back was to the man, and therefore, he was unaware the gentleman approached.

  When the stranger arrived at the table, he said, “Good morning, Darnley. I see you have your lovely sisters with you.” He then turned to Amelia. “And is this their governess?”

  The duke’s face suffused red. “Longthorne,” he said in a voice that sounded like barely suppressed rage.

  “May I join you?” the man asked, as if oblivious to the anger directed toward him.

  “We’ve only a table for four,” the duke said.

  “Oh, come now, what’s an added chair and a little squeezing in among friends?” The man had the audacity to pull an extra seat from a different table and sit.

  Amelia surmised the man must be of equal rank to her employer since he clearly didn’t care that the duke bore him animosity.

  The two sisters also seemed to be unaware of their brother’s demeanor. While it was clear to Amelia that he wanted nothing more than for Longthorne to disappear, the sisters smiled as if everything was normal.

  The man is attractive . . . in a way. He dresses well and smiles nicely, but his smile doesn’t reach all the way to his eyes. Oh, maybe I’m just taking my cue from the way the duke is acting. Surely he means no harm.

  Their order was delivered, and once all the plates and cups were in place, Longthorne said, “May I have the pleasure of an introduction?”

  “No,” the duke said.

  Saffron laughed. “Now you sound like the old Basil. Of course you may have an introduction. I’m Lady Saffron, and this is my sister, Lady Jonquil. We also have our friend, Miss Amelia Mandeville, with us today.”

  “Very nice to meet you all.” He turned to Amelia. “And a friend. How nice for you all to have a lovely companion.”

  His eyes on her made Amelia nervous. Though he said kind things, she could tell he was taking note of her shabbier clothing and judging her as an inferior being. She didn’t consider him a truly nice man. The duke must know something I don’t. She vowed to be wary of the man . . . just in case.

  Amelia picked up her cup of chocolate and sipped on it, choosing not to interact with Longthorne. She knew her voice and mannerisms wouldn’t give her status away since she had been raised properly, but her wardrobe had already marked her for the person she was.

  The duke didn’t say anything either but was watching Longthorne’s every move as if he were going to leap in and attack him.

  Longthorne, for his part, didn’t stop flattering the twins the entire time they ate their snacks. The two girls giggled constantly and seemed completely entranced by the man seated across from them.

  Just when Amelia thought they would never finish eating, another man entered the café and came over to their table.

  “I say, Longthorne, we have a match today,” the new arrival said. “You said you were coming in for a minute to speak to someone, and you’ve been in here a quarter hour or more. Are you coming along?”

  Longthorne stood. “I am so sorry, ladies. I must go, but I would love the chance to call on you some morning when you’re at home.”

  “My sisters are not receiving.” The duke shoved his chair back and stood as well.

  “Ever?” Longthorne asked.

  “They are not out in society.” Amelia couldn’t believe she had the nerve to speak to the man. What’s gotten into me? She never spoke out but wanted to prevent the duke from making a scene. It will be all over town by the end of the day if they argue publicly.

  “But they will be soon, won’t they, Miss, um . . . Mandeville, isn’t it?” H
e sneered.

  Amelia was silent in the face of the man’s question and the look he gave her. Now I’ve done it. The sisters will be out soon and then what will be the reason not to allow him to call? So much for trying to help. I’ve only made things worse.

  Wanting to cry because she should’ve known better than to step into a situation she knew nothing about, Amelia fought back the tears. It didn’t help matters at all that the man said her name like it was something nasty stuck to his shoe.

  “Even once they are out, our home is not welcome to you, sir, and you know why. Now I think your friend is in need of your services, so we will excuse you from this table.” The duke’s words came out of his mouth in a staccato rhythm.

  Longthorne bowed to Saffron and Jonquil. “Please forgive me for having to abandon you for now. I am sure we shall meet again.” He nodded to the duke, turned on his heel, and left the premises, followed by his friend.

  “Basil, why were you so rude to him? Surely he’s not as terrible as you pretend. Just because he joined us uninvited is no reason to be petty and mean,” Saffron said. “Come, sit down. I’m not quite finished with my cake.”

  “It’s time to go. You will have to suffer and not eat the rest of the sweet.” The duke pointed toward the door.

  “You’re being unreasonable, Basil. First about nice Mr. Longthorne and now about my cake. I will not get up until I’m finished,” Saffron glared at her brother. “Let’s see who can last longer, me sitting here with decorum or you standing and demanding your sister leave. I wonder who will cause a scandal first.”