The Wild Duchess/The Willful Duchess (The Duchess Club Book 1)

by Renee Bernard

  Starr’s eyes widened. “He was not a kitten.”

  “Well, no, I did not mean to imply that he was.”

  Ivy leaned in. “Was he terrible then?”

  Starr looked inquisitively at her sister. “Was he, dearest?”

  “No! No. If he was terribly…pretty then—No! That’s not what I meant to say. He was very polite and not unattractive and not really the matter at hand. Stafford is nothing to me and merely meant to make a show of courtesy for his friend, the Duke of Chesterton.” Scarlett nervously tugged at the lace at her wrists. “It was a simple social call. Nothing more.”

  Ivy and Starr exchanged knowing looks but Ivy opted to be merciful. “Tell us of Chesterton then. How did you meet?”

  “It was by simple chance. We spoke first and he didn’t reveal that he was a duke right away which I thought was very kind since I was…speaking freely as I would with one of Father’s friends.”

  Starr sighed. “It is a wretched challenge, isn’t it? If you speak too quickly and without censure, then it’s a disaster. If you’re shy and say little, they assume you’re a dolt. I’d rather read a conversation than attempt to compose one off the top of my head.”

  “We must be ourselves,” Scarlett said firmly. “For who else could we be?”

  “Do you remember the Duchess Club?” Ivy asked.

  “I…yes, but I hadn’t thought of it in some time,” Scarlett said then her eyes widened in surprise. “Oh! I made a joke and said we’d marry dukes!”

  “And now look at you!” Ivy laughed. “I’d say your toes are very nearly on the edge of that leap.”

  Starr’s mouth fell open. “Imagine that, Lettie. You possessed the gift of prophecy and never knew it.”

  Scarlett shook her head. “But we never meant it. It was nothing to do with dukes so if I’m a seer then I was a bit off my game. It was all silly. Our secret club with its secret purposes—it was only a lark.”

  “No, it wasn’t.” Ivy sat up a little straighter, her demeanor changing instantly. “It was everything.”

  “Was it?” Scarlett asked.

  “For me it was everything. We swore to support each other’s dreams and to shake the foundations of the earth.” Ivy stood from the window seat and walked toward an easel covered with cloth. She pulled the cloth aside to reveal her latest work. “Here, see. Even if this is done only for myself and the eyes of my most trusted friends, I paint what I want. I think that more than a lark, don’t you?”

  The twins followed her to take in their friend’s vision. “It’s…oh, my!”

  “You don’t like it.” Ivy’s face paled.

  “I do! I more than like it but it’s…oh, Ivy, it just takes a person’s breath away!” Starr whispered.

  Scarlett reached for her friend’s hand, never taking her eyes off the painting. She squeezed Ivy’s fingers. “I misspoke. Ivy, I’m ashamed of myself. It is never silly to dream and if we can shape our world even a little, then it’s worth it.”

  Ivy shyly covered her work back up, unable to face praise or criticism of the piece just yet. “I wrote Alicia as much just yesterday. They are coming to London, I think to rally to support your mother and father during this time. It’s exciting, your first Season!”

  Scarlett blushed. “Our first Season,” she amended. “Starr may wish it otherwise but we are in this together.”

  “I wish for nothing else,” Starr said quickly. “I would that we could do all things together.”

  “All things except walk in gardens with a duke?” Ivy teased.

  “Yes,” Starr agreed quickly with a laugh. “All things except that. Dukes are very unnerving and I am relieved to avoid their attentions so far.”

  “It is a good thing there are not so many in the world.” Scarlett took her friends hands and they all returned to their perch in the sunlight by the studio windows.

  “Yes, but let us hear more about Scarlett’s duke!” Ivy pleaded.

  And so it was they spent the time they had for their visit with Scarlett regaling them with tales of finding gentlemen amidst the greenery and what it felt like to dance with a duke as sunlight danced through the windows.

  That same afternoon, Elgin York, the Duke of Chesterton, was sitting at his desk quietly contemplating a blank sheet of paper. Usually personal correspondence was not a struggle and he was generous with letters aware that for many of his friends, the arrival of news was a great source of entertainment in quieter parts of the country. As a bachelor, he had never had a wife he could delegate the task to and he often wondered if he would have done so if his life had gone differently. In truth, he enjoyed it. Well, he usually enjoyed it.

  Today the untouched page reproached him.

  Elgin sighed and took up his pen again. It was a small act but one that demanded a touch of courage.

  * * *

  Dearest Maeve,

  I hope this letter finds you well and that the quiet of the country is as magical as ever to your spirits. You seemed more melancholy in your last letter but I blame the incessant damp weather, Sister, and the anxiety that can come with gray skies and rainy days. But Spring brings beautiful days as well and I trust that you have enjoyed a fair share of brighter moments and noticed the happier colors of the season.

  I don’t wish to bore you with recounting of much of the life here in Town. It is remarkably unchanged although there is perhaps one notable exception. After years of your urging, I have made more of an effort to step out in social circumstances. Though I would not admit to finally yielding to your wisdom and even now will protest that the shift is entirely of my own volition and not at my Maeve’s will. Count it as a fault in my pride, dear Sister.

  I have met a lovely young lady recently and find that all the tedium of Town is forgotten in her company. A surprise to me, as well as my close acquaintances since I have so long been resigned to a solitary path in this world.

  * * *

  Elgin paused and reread what he’d written. It was a careful line he wished to tread. Lying was not in his nature but his aim was to remain honest and allow his sister to draw whatever conclusions she might. It was not a malicious thing to hint that he may be headed toward matrimony but something else entirely.

  He sat back in his chair and looked around the room. His study was comfortably appointed and spacious, but he wasn’t really looking at the beauty of the wood paneling or the priceless art and decorations, the silk covered walls or crystal glasses on a tray awaiting him for a late afternoon indulgence. The house was quiet except for the ticking of clocks or the faintest sound of a door closing below stairs, or the work of one of the maids.

  Not as quiet as the grave…but too damn close, I think.

  A life of privilege was naturally insulating but he had only ever gloried in it. Now the isolation weighed heavily against him. He was certain that he was too young to be caught in the paralyzing malaise of an old man’s regrets. But his choices now echoed without mercy in the hollow chambers of his mansion. Dozens of halls and empty rooms mocked his unspoken anxiety and Elgin stood from his chair to try to shake it all off.

  He walked toward the windows, to see the familiar view with fresh eyes.

  The letter to Maeve was sure to set things in motion that he would not be able to stop. He was not foolhardy enough to ignore everything that could go wrong. His plan had initially been so improvised and light-hearted, it astonished him to survey the web he now hoped to weave.

  He turned back to face the room and his desk. “I am the seventh Duke of Chesterton and by God, this house will blaze with love and merriment before I’m done.”

  The pronouncement felt good and he returned to his chair, a man on a mission, humming to himself as he began a flattering, albeit flowery, description of the fair maiden he had lit upon, sprinkling in just enough prose to ensure that his sister would need her smelling salts.

  Chapter 6

  Days later, the girls were preparing for another ball. It was a delightful reward after so many social
calls, the rigors of introductions, and staid afternoon teas. Molly laid their gowns out, assisting each of them in turn with the layers of silk and muslin underpinnings, to tie-back their crinolines to achieve the desired shape. Even Starr, who normally had a very stoic approach to the process, found herself smiling as their ensembles came together.

  “I do like this color,” Starr said.

  “It likes you in return,” Molly said softly and then stepped back to eye her progress. “If you’ll wait there, Miss Starr, I’ll just get your shoes.”

  The gown was periwinkle, a dusky shade of blue and purple and grey with an ivory pleated underskirt. Blue was her favorite color and Starr thought of it as calming to the spirit and restful. She glanced over at Scarlett and sighed. Scarlett’s favorite color was any color that was vibrant and exciting, but tonight she had chosen a red silk dress with silver colored lace ruching at the hem and around the décolletage to match the silver embroidery on her polonaise. She looked smart and sleek as if born to attend balls and show off the elegance of her flounced train when she waltzed. She glowed with a confidence that Starr envied.

  “You already look like a duchess.”

  Scarlett laughed, a pretty color coming into her cheeks. “What a wicked thing to say!”

  “Do you think Chesterton will be there tonight?”

  “I do not know but I would be surprised if he were. Even so, tonight will be lovely and it is exciting to have gotten an invitation from the Marchioness of Tewkesbury so I won’t ask for more!”

  Molly knelt at Starr’s feet to assist her into her satin dancing shoes with a clever low heel that made her feel impossibly dainty and slightly precarious. “There you are, miss.”

  Scarlett began humming as she touched the diamond points adorning her hair and began to dance around the room. “And I’m going to insist that my beloved Tara dances until she drops from exhaustion!”

  “Your beloved Tara is putting her foot down and insisting that you leave her out of it,” Starr countered. “But she will cheerfully watch while you spin about the floor.”

  Molly sighed as she stood back up. “You should dance, too, Miss Starr. Seems a waste of a lovely evening and all this finery if you ask me.”

  Starr squeezed her maid’s hands with her own. “Don’t worry, Molly. I will listen to the music and make the very most of my time there but in my very own way, I promise.”

  A knock at the door interrupted them, followed by Ashe appearing in his own evening finery. “May a father gain entrance?” he asked with a smile.

  “Yes, please!” The girls brightened since his appearance heralded that he still intended to accompany them out. “How dashing you look!” Starr said quickly and Scarlett nodded in agreement.

  He gave each of them a kiss on the cheek in greeting then backed up to make his inspections. “No. No, we shall have to stay home. This will not do. My Buttons look far too good and I’m not sure I can fend off all the young men without doing my elderly self some great injury. Alas for me! It is decided, my darlings. We must be hermits.”

  “Oh, Father! Don’t tease!” Scarlett protested with a theatrical pout all too familiar with his game.

  Starr on the other hand was all too willing to fuel his gambit and play the accomplice. “Alas! Though I suppose if we must…Shall we stay home and keep you company? Spend a quiet evening in the sitting room? Or the music room? I learned a new piece on the piano and Scarlett can sing.”

  Scarlett tapped her foot, trying to keep a straight face. “Scarlett cannot sing.” They both looked at her askance as her bravado faltered. “Well, she can but she won’t.”

  “Such rebelliousness,” Ashe sighed. “Wherever have I failed as a parent?”

  Both the girls began to laugh. Scarlett took his arm. “You would fail very quickly as a hermit, sir. There is nothing left but to resign yourself to attend this ball. For how else will everyone get to see how handsome you are?”

  “You are wicked Buttons. But it is very true. Just because I am feeling irascible and unhappy about showing you off, I cannot deprive the party of my presence. Though I could leave my Buttons home…and go alone….hmm,” Ashe said slowly, as if contemplating the glorious revelation that he might sample a bit of society without two cumbersome daughters in his wake.

  “This Button is happy to wave you off.” Starr leaned against his other shoulder. “Uncle Darius sent over a book on the Borgias that looks terribly grisly and wonderful!”

  “I’m going to have a talk with Darius Thorne about his wretched influence.” Ashe gently disengaged himself from their hold. “Ladies, there is nothing for us to do but to hurl ourselves into the social breach and have it over with. I need to see the battlefield for myself and keep a good eye on my daughters. Fortune hunters and fools, beware!”

  “And dukes?”

  “They should fear me most of all,” he proclaimed without an inkling of jest. “A man cannot stop the sunrise for wishing but I will see what I can do.”

  He stepped back to head for the bedroom door. “Molly, one last pass and force them downstairs where their impatient father will be waiting.”

  “Yes, Mr. Blackwell,” Molly said quickly.

  The door closed behind him and all the women hurried to ensure that nothing had been omitted. Starr sighed as the last touch of an opal ornamented comb was added to her hair. “I still wish I could find a way to bring along something to read.”

  Scarlett smiled. “Don’t let Father hear you say it. But come, enough of hiding. I want to see you write your own story tonight, darling.”

  “Oh, I will. Just don’t be disappointed when that story involves me happily having a conversation with Lady Beckwith about the new lecture hall being built by her literary foundation and—”

  “Tara.” Scarlett held out her hand. “Time to dance.”

  Starr nodded solemnly. “Time to dance.”

  They left together still holding hands and Molly watched in amazement as her mind played tricks and for a fleeting moment she saw them as they had been—two tiny tots holding hands as they headed downstairs, the allegiance between them so strong that it overcame every fear, every challenge and every foe.

  Molly’s eyes filled with nostalgic tears for the years that had robbed the house of its tiniest beauties only to turn them into women in their own right. Yet still, they held hands…

  Time to dance.

  The ball was even more grand than their debut at Aldridge’s though this one was just as crowded. Scarlett felt the icy brush of distant anxiety as she realized that perhaps for all her fuss, Aldridge’s was the friendlier and easier hurdle of the two. The marchioness apparently invited only certain circles and for all the Blackwell twins privileged advantages, Scarlett had to accept that it was entirely possible that they were out of their league.

  She glanced at her father only to find comfort as he immediately established himself as the most dashing man in the room without saying a word, commanding respect without a show of caring one way or the other and then easily making introductions and eliciting blushes from their hostess.

  “Diana, you make me wonder that I do not get out more,” Ashe said wickedly as he gave Lady Pellham a bold but chaste kiss on the cheek. “What did I miss that stopped time for you and cruelly accelerated it for me? For look, I am the father of two grown young ladies and how is that possible? And you are still as you were. It is unfair.”

  “Ashe! You are eternally a rogue but may it ever be so! When you say such things, I am young again and all things are possible. But let me greet these Blackwell Beauties of yours. Ah, ladies! I am so glad you could come and pleased that you have your father in tow. We see so little of him that I had begun to wonder. Your mother must guard him zealously I think. I know I would if Fate had brought him to my heels.”

  The girls smiled. They were accustomed to women’s reactions to their father and knew he secretly reveled in being reminded of his powers to win ladies’ hearts. It was all in fun since he was so obviously and
entirely devoted to his wife that the idea of him straying was laughable now.

  “Mother is extremely confident and allows him out on alternating Thursdays if he is very good and eats all his vegetables,” Scarlett said brightly. “Naturally, there are extra outings if he does so without making faces.”

  “Gracious!” Lady Pellham exclaimed. “How I do adore your wit, Miss Blackwell! You are both so quick I fear the young men will have no small challenge keeping up tonight.”

  “Ah!” Ashe sighed. “I knew a good education had benefits but I love the notion of weeding out the dull and slow suitors in the crowd without any effort on my part. Shall we go in?”

  “It was a pleasure to see you again, Lady Pellham,” Starr said softly. “Thank you for inviting us to your home.”

  “Aren’t you sweet? Enjoy yourselves, darlings. Please do enjoy yourselves.” She was forced to pivot to the next arriving guests and the trio made their way up the great staircase to join the throng.

  It was slow progress as Ashe greeted old friends, flirted with every woman from eighteen to eighty and proudly showed off his beloved twin daughters without a single nod to humility. He was a man in his element and Scarlett’s confidence grew as they went, absorbing the lessons of simply being oneself and not worrying over the fine invisible details of title or entitlements.

  As they entered the large room set aside for dancing, Scarlett realized that after the rounds of social calls, there were more familiar faces to be seen and it eased her mind a bit. Competitive and treacherous as society still might be, tonight she was determined to see it through her grandfather’s eyes. Gordon Blackwell had never deferred to anyone and had once told the Buttons, “Hold your head high but never so high that you cannot see that your feet still touch the earth for that is when so many fools lose their balance.”

  Pride was not the problem. For Scarlett it was remembering that no matter how fine the room looked, all of them were just as connected to the floor. And if I can remember that, I will not get to see the marchioness’s ferns up close.