A Damsel for the Mysterious Duke_A Historical Regency Romance

by Bridget Barton

  “A little, I suppose.”

  “Forgive me, please do not be cross, but I do not believe that for a minute,” Fleur said a little more seriously. “I think you have come to like him in his own right now, for the man he is.”

  “And perhaps that is exactly how he would view it.”

  “What do you mean?”

  “Perhaps he would think that I only have an interest in him because he is now a man of title. After all, if he had still been a servant all these years later, any idea of romance between us would have been quite impossible. And he is such a clever young man, so very perceptive, that it would certainly cross his mind if he saw any attraction from me.”

  “But do you think he would mind?”

  “How could he not? After all, he is still the same person, and yet he is now socially acceptable in a way that he never was before. If I aimed to be anything other than his friend, Sammy would undoubtedly see me as a fraud; a hypocrite.”

  “But you cannot know that for certain.”

  “No, I suppose I cannot know for certain. But those sorts of thought cloud things, do they not? Perhaps it would be better for me to help Sammy get to the bottom of it all before I wonder too much at my own feelings for him.”

  “Then you do have feelings for him,” Fleur said quietly although with equal determination.

  “Yes, I do,” Georgina said and smiled, quickly realizing that the only way to satisfy her cousin was to agree with her.

  And it was all true, of course. Georgina had been affected by his handsome face from the first time she had seen him as a grown man at the garden party. Before she had any inkling as to his real identity, Georgina had been drawn to him. When he had sat by her side in the assembly rooms as the musicians had played, she had been very pleased with his attention.

  But had she simply been pleased because a Duke had never paid her such attention before? In fact, nobody had paid her such attention before, not a Duke, not an Earl, not a Baron, not a common man.

  “Forgive me, I am being a little forceful in my opinions,” Fleur said suddenly. “I think it is the idea that the two of you have come together again after all these years that set me to thinking that there could be a great romance here. It would be a very fine story, would it not?”

  “I daresay it would.” Georgina laughed and quickly straightened Fleur’s gown. “There, you are complete my dear.”

  “Thank you, Georgina.”

  “I will not lie to you and say that I do not feel anything for Sammy because I do. I daresay it is hard to discuss because I do not quite understand the nature of those feelings just yet. But if and when I do, I promise that you will be the first to know.”

  “I would expect nothing less.” Fleur smiled brightly.

  “But in the meantime, I think we are going to need to set aside such things. After all, we need to find some means of propelling ourselves in the direction of Cornwall, and I have no idea how we are to do it. Sammy will have to help us work something out, and I think we will all need very clear heads for such an undertaking.”

  “You mean to take me with you? To question Beatrice Ellington? Really?” Fleur’s blue eyes were round with excitement.

  “Of course I mean to take you with me. How could I possibly manage it without you, Fleur?”

  Fleur immediately flung her arms around her cousin, so unexpectedly that Georgina felt a little off balance.

  “Now you will have us both disarranged.” Georgina laughed but returned her cousin’s embrace with equal enthusiasm. “Come, let us make our way down to the carriage for I am sure that your father and brother must be tired of waiting for us.”

  In actual fact, neither Felix nor Jeremy were at all tired of waiting for them. They gave no indication of frustration whatsoever, and both simply smiled and made noises of appreciation when the two women finally glided down the staircase.

  Mirabelle saw them off in the entrance hall, fending off all attempts to get her to change her mind and attend the ball to which she had also been invited.

  The four of them made a merry little party as they drove in Felix’s carriage to Calder Hall. Jeremy was in high spirits, teasing both girls about the handsome Duke as always. And Felix seemed much more relaxed on this occasion, no doubt boosted by his two recent visits to the Duke’s fine home.

  “Well, here we are. I say, what a queue!” Jeremy said brightly when the carriage drew up at the front of Calder Hall to join so many others. “Even more guests than were invited to the garden party, I should not wonder.”

  As Felix helped Georgina down from the carriage, she looked towards the brightly lit open doorway at the top of the immense stone steps. It stood out clearly against the falling dusk, and her eyes immediately flew to Sammy.

  He stood greeting his guests, smiling and seeming much more at ease with himself than he had done on the day of the garden party. And his ease had added even more to his handsomeness, his all-encompassing attractions.

  It was clear that Georgina was not the only young lady in Devonshire to have noticed those attractions. She quickly realized that the queue was ever deepening on account of a never-ending stream of hopeful young ladies and their even more hopeful parents. No doubt Sammy was being regaled with tales of how wonderful each and every young lady was, not just in terms of beauty, but in all manner of fine character traits which would be just the thing for a duchess.

  And the young ladies really were very beautiful.

  For the first time in a long while, Georgina felt somewhat unsure of herself. It was not a sentiment she was much given to, and she surprised herself by looking down at her gown and wondering if she did not suddenly feel a little of what Fleur had felt earlier on; that she had not chosen quite right and that she would be uncomfortable about it all evening.

  She shook her head as if to dispel it, annoyed with herself for such a silly, girlish thought. And yet, the same time, she could not help wondering what conversations took place just a few feet away at the top of the stone steps. Was Sammy impressed? Was he finally coming to terms with his role as the new Duke of Calder and realizing what great advantages came along with the title?

  Surely any young man of just one-and-twenty would be flattered by the adoring glances of so many carefully turned out young ladies. She could hardly think that there was a man alive who would not be so impressed that his head could be easily turned in the direction of any one of them.

  The thought of it laid her suddenly very low, and Georgina wanted to be somewhere else altogether. If the Duke of Calder, Sammy, her Sammy, was about to fall in love with somebody very beautiful, she did not want to be there to see it. It mattered not that he was her friend, her oldest friend, for she could not be pleased for him at that moment.

  Instead, she studied his face for any sign that he had changed, that he had formed some instant regard for the young lady with whom he was currently exchanging pleasantries, or the young lady who had gone before her, or the one before her. And what of the many others who would come after?

  Georgina would be but one of many and, as she looked down at her gown once more, she would undoubtedly be the most plainly dressed of them all.

  Perhaps there would be little opportunity for them to discuss any plans for Cornwall that night. After all, they were not in the tea rooms in Rowley now but at a ball being hosted by the Duke of Calder himself. He was the host, the man that everybody had come to see. The man that everybody had come to impress.

  It was the first time that Georgina had truly considered Sammy as the Duke of Calder. Yes, she had known it all along, but he had still been Sammy then. Surely, he was still Sammy now, but she could not help letting her imagination run away with her.

  At that moment, Georgina wished that he had never gone up in the world at all. If only he was still a servant, the young man would not be of any interest to the beautiful young ladies who seemed to surround him now.

  And the fact that she knew that her sudden wish was so selfish served only to make he
r feel even worse.

  Chapter 19

  When Georgina appeared in front of him and performed a neat little curtsy, Emerson had been entirely surprised to see her there. He had not noticed her in the queue at all, even though he had been eagerly awaiting her appearance.

  Still, he had felt almost ambushed in the entrance hall, surrounded by faces he did not know, all of whom seemed to be intent upon his fullest attention. It was not an entirely new thing, of course. Even before he had become the Duke, when his father had begun to introduce him to the world outside of school and university, young ladies had taken an interest. But he had been shrewd enough even then to know why.

  He knew it was just the way of things, and he always had, but Emerson could not trust the world just as it was. Had he still been a servant somewhere, Emerson would have been of little interest to any but those of his own station, and even then, perhaps not. After all, he would not have had the funds for such fine clothes and a barber and valet to keep on top of his wayward hair. He would look very different. He would look like a servant.

  And there was not one young lady present in his ballroom who would have given him a second glance. As it was now, they seemed unable to look away.

  “Good evening, Miss Jeffries,” he said, just stopping himself calling her Georgie at the very last minute. “And Mr Allencourt, Miss Allencourt, how are you both?”

  “Good evening, your Grace,” Georgina said so quietly she was almost mute.

  “Very well, your Grace, I thank you,” Felix Allencourt said and bowed deeply.

  “Ah, and good evening to you, Sir.” Emerson smiled and bowed when he saw Jeremy Allencourt bringing up the rear of the little party.

  Jeremy beamed back and bowed deeply, looking every bit like a young man who was intent upon enjoying the evening to its fullest. There was something very carefree about Jeremy Allencourt, something that Emerson would not have minded for himself.

  It was clear that the young man had an attractive personality and an element of fun about him. For a moment, he mused on the idea that Jeremy Allencourt might have made a fine friend for him indeed if Emerson were not so perpetually concerned by discovery and vigilant about every word he spoke unless he was with Georgie.

  “Thank you kindly for inviting us this evening, your Grace,” Felix Allencourt spoke again. “And it appears that you have a good number of guests waiting.” He smiled knowingly, and Emerson was suddenly so grateful to be in the company of an undemanding man that he reached out and patted him on the shoulder.

  “Please do enjoy yourself, Mr Allencourt. All of you,” he said and smiled from one to the other, all the while wanting to single Georgie out in particular. “I shall find you in the course of the evening.”

  Georgina nodded and smiled a little vaguely before taking Felix’s proffered arm and heading off in the direction of the ballroom. She seemed a little distracted, and Emerson hoped that there was nothing wrong.

  Apart from her distraction, she looked as beautiful as he had ever seen her, more so. Her gown was a soft velvet affair in a bright shade of blue, almost the same as her eyes. The neck of the gown was wide and revealed the creamy skin of her collarbone and a little of her shoulders. And there was the vaguest hint of scent on her skin, so vague he could barely detect it. He was sure it was Jasmine or something similar, and its very faintness was tantalizing. He breathed deeply, feeling almost as if he were chasing the scent in the hope of catching it.

  The moment she wandered away from him, Emerson reluctantly turned back to the next of his guests and groaned silently and inwardly when he saw yet another hopeful and extraordinarily overdone young lady blinking hard, her wide eyes intending to convey a certain comely innocence.

  Not another one!

  It took almost another hour before he was free from the arduous task of greeting his guests. If only they would simply wish him a good evening so that he might wish them the same, and then move on into the ballroom to partake of the wonderful food and drink that Mrs Thistlethwaite had worked so hard to oversee.

  Already several dances had taken place, and Emerson felt the weight of eyes upon him, hopeful young ladies and expectant parents all waiting for him to make his choice. He knew that he would have to dance with several young ladies or risk upsetting half of the county. But he did not want to make his first choice any other than Georgina.

  If he picked any other young lady for his first dance of the evening, much emphasis would be placed upon it by all around him.

  “Georgie, forgive my absence,” he whispered his rush of words directly into her ear the moment he saw her, startling her entirely.

  Once again, he caught the vaguest hint of jasmine in the air and knew that he had not been mistaken.

  “Your Grace,” she said, her blue eyes wide. “You startled me.”

  “Forgive me, Miss Jeffries,” he said and looked around for any sign that he had been overheard calling her Georgie. “I have been tortured in the doorway for an hour.” He was whispering again.

  “Tortured?” she said, and the expression on her face made him laugh.

  “Everybody’s father wants an audience with me,” he said with a great sigh. “And I have not yet developed the skill with which to gently extricate myself from tedious yet forceful company.”

  “Oh, dear me,” Georgina said and laughed, although he was not entirely sure that the distraction he had perceived earlier had evaporated entirely. “Perhaps that ought to have been the first thing that your father taught you.”

  “If it had been the only thing he had taught me, I would be grateful.”

  “I suppose such great interest in you is to be expected. You are the Duke, after all,” she said, and as she looked vaguely around the ballroom, he thought he detected an uneasiness in her manner.

  “I suppose so,” he said with a shrug. “But will you dance with me? For my first dance, I mean.”

  “Yes, of course,” she said and smiled at him.

  “For you can only imagine how I would have to duck and weave the advances of the father of any other young lady I choose to dance with first.”

  “Quite.” And with that, her smile disappeared altogether.

  “Forgive me, Georgie.” He was whispering again. “I had not meant my request to sound so very self-serving. It really would be my pleasure, I assure you.”

  “Really, there is no offence,” she said and gave him the sort of smile which suggested that she really was offended but was trying her very best to hide it.

  “I would not hurt your feelings for a kingdom.”

  “And you have not, so it is a good thing.” Once again, he was not convinced.

  No young lady, he supposed, would be pleased to be asked to dance under such circumstances. No young lady would be pleased to be nothing more than his saviour from the intentions of all the other ladies and their desperate fathers. It was hardly flattering, and yet his own meaning could not have been further from his words.

  He had blundered, that was for certain, but Emerson was certain that Georgina could only be offended as any other young lady would be offended in the circumstances. He could not begin to imagine for a moment that she harboured any of the feelings for him that he had come to experience for her.

  After all, why would she? She knew what he was. She knew, as all the others did not, that he was no better than a servant. And despite their great friendship of childhood, Emerson did not fool himself that the two of them would have grown up and retained that friendship if he had simply remained a servant at Ashdown Manor.

  As Georgina Jeffries had grown into a young woman, she would have easily seen the great differences between them. Differences that she perhaps did not quite imagine now, although he was sure that the thought would be in there somewhere.

  If he had still been a servant in her father’s employee, Georgina would likely have grown to despise him a little. Perhaps not despise the man himself, but rather his station in life. It was the way of things.

  Of cou
rse, things were different now; he was the Duke of Calder. And yet he could not help feeling that he perhaps was not the man he thought he was. His whole life had been a lie, even when he had been a child and had known no different, it had been a lie nonetheless.

  How could he trust that he truly was the rightful Duke? In the end, he could not say for certain that he was not merely the orphan that Baroness Elizabeth Jeffries had claimed him to be, the child for whom there was no room at the Hatfield orphanage, the child she had reluctantly agreed to shelter as one of her own servants.

  If their investigations brought them hard up against that one potential, then Georgina would know it. Even if they kept it all quiet, and he retained his title, still she would know it. Would she despise him then as she would surely have done had he never left Ashdown Manor? Perhaps; perhaps not.

  Emerson knew that he would have to keep his feelings lashed down now. At the very least, he needed to know who he was before he thought about what else life might have to offer him.