The Duke's Daring Debutante (Regency Historical Romance)

by Ann Lethbridge

  ‘He’s coming over,’ Minette said.

  Arthur. A cold fist settled in his gut. He rose to his feet. ‘Cousin,’ he said as the man reached them.

  ‘I hear congratulations are in order,’ Arthur said, his expression sour.

  ‘Thank you, cuz. I did not expect to see you here today.’

  ‘Liz’s idea,’ his cousin said, kicking at a tuft of grass.

  Ah, yes. Liz would have been shocked to her toes at the news. Freddy couldn’t help feeling a little twinge of satisfaction. Not that his impending marriage would alter the line of inheritance at all, but it might shake Liz out of her complacency.

  ‘May I introduce you to my betrothed, Mademoiselle Rideau, her friend, Lady Priscilla, and her companion, Miss Bernice? Authur Stone. My cousin.’

  Arthur bowed low over the two young ladies’ hands and gave Miss Bernice a brief nod. It was without question the appropriate greeting, but Minette bristled. Once she knew Arthur, she would understand that his cousin had little or no self-esteem and, therefore, establishing the order of precedence was of prime importance.

  ‘It is delightful to meet a member of Freddy’s family,’ Minette said, dipping a curtsey. ‘You are the first.’

  ‘I was at Gosport’s ball,’ Arthur said with a disapproving frown, ‘though it did not seem quite the right time for introductions.’

  Minette raised a questioning brow.

  Arthur rocked on his heels, his ears turning pink. ‘I had another engagement.’

  No doubt he had scuttled off to confer with his wife.

  Minette smiled and said nothing.

  ‘Are the boys here?’ Freddy asked, looking around. ‘And Liz?’

  ‘No. I am here with a friend.’ He winced. ‘Didn’t expect to see you here, old chap, cricket not being your sort of thing.’ More foot-shuffling. ‘Do you think we can have a word in private?’

  ‘It looks as if the match is about to start again,’ Lady Priscilla said.

  The players were striding onto the field, talking and laughing, with Beau Brummell in their midst. They separated to take up their various positions. With the attention now focussed on play, Arthur leaned closer. ‘About this engagement of yours. Do you think it is such a good idea?’

  ‘I don’t think it is any of your business, actually,’ Freddy said, smiling.

  Arthur flinched. ‘There is the business of the accident.’ He glanced around and lowered his voice still further. ‘New information might come to light at any time. No statute of limitations, and that sort of thing.’

  Freddy turned to face him square on, his anger icy in his veins. Arthur had always sworn he’d seen nothing of the accident. ‘Have you regained your memory, then?’

  The other man turned back to the game. ‘I was a boy. I panicked. But in hindsight there are things I remember. Perhaps.’

  Freddy’s hand curled into fists. This was Liz’s work, no doubt. ‘Go to hell, Arthur. Whatever scandal arises will taint you, too, you know.’

  Arthur shrivelled in on himself. ‘You should think about it, though,’ he said. ‘That’s all. Think about it.’

  Freddy wanted to strangle him. Or Liz. Or both of them together. But they were his family. And he’d already been the death of one member of it. ‘Tell Liz she has nothing to fear with regard to the succession.’

  A shout went up and he turned his head to see a ball heading straight at his party. An excellent hit over the boundary. He stretched out a hand and caught it to a burst of applause.

  ‘Well caught, sir,’ someone yelled.

  He threw it back to the bowler, who bowed his thanks. Meanwhile, the batsman was awarded six runs.

  He glanced around. Arthur, the sniveller, had taken the opportunity to scuttle off and was now talking to a group a little distance away, but he must have felt Freddy’s gaze on him because he half turned and gave a terse nod of understanding. It seemed he was content to accept Freddy’s word, for now.

  ‘Freddy,’ Minette said, smiling at him over her shoulder. ‘I cannot believe you caught that ball. They will surely ask you to join their team.’

  The bitterness inside him escaped his control. ‘No. They won’t. I can’t run.’ And everyone knew it. Half of them had been at school with him.

  Her expression of shock at his harsh words followed quickly by the look of pity in her lovely brown eyes only made him feel worse.

  Damn it all. He never whined about his foot. ‘And as I told you, dukes are far too important to be playing silly games. I invited you because you need to know about one of England’s most important institutions.’

  The ice coating his voice must have reached her as her back straightened. The smile disappeared. ‘You are right.’ She turned away from him and addressed a remark to Lady Priscilla.

  He didn’t hear what she said for the angry rush of blood in his ears.

  Curse Arthur. If he really knew something, why had he never mentioned it before? He was bluffing. Applying pressure.

  And with that sort of thing in the wind, the thought of Minette meeting Mother made him feel physically ill.

  Chapter Eight

  While Freddy had maintained an outward calm and the rest of the afternoon had been enjoyable, it was perfectly clear to Minette he had withdrawn inside himself. Leaving only a walking, talking, icy shell.

  The guilt of her careless words weighed her down, but it wasn’t until after they had deposited Priscilla and her companion on the Sparshott doorstep and the carriage had moved off again that she dared to broach the subject. ‘I beg your pardon. When I said about you joining the team, I forgot about your leg. I did not mean to cause you embarrassment.’

  ‘You didn’t.’ His voice was shards of ice grating down her spine.

  Oh, the man was too infuriating. ‘Then why are you being so distant?’

  He blinked. And something more humane appeared in his dark blue gaze. ‘I apologise. I was thinking about something someone said.’

  A flash of light went off in her brain. ‘Your cousin. He said something that upset you, didn’t he?’ She pressed a hand to her stomach to still the sense of unease she felt.

  His expression shuttered.

  ‘I see.’ She folded her hands in her lap. ‘You do not trust me.’

  ‘It isn’t that.’

  ‘Then what?’

  ‘It is old family business. I’m sorry, I should not have let it affect me that way. But there is something else I need to tell you. We have the name of Madame Vitesse’s brother. He is Henri Latour and he has black hair and brown eyes and a scar at the base of his right thumb.’

  She gasped at the detail. ‘How do you know this?’

  ‘If I know it, the Home Office knows it, too. You need to trust me in this, Minette. Convince Madame Vitesse to put us in touch with the man right away and give me the information, or they will make a mess of the whole business.’

  He had not answered her question, but it was no longer of importance.

  ‘I apologise for not trusting you, Freddy. And I will persuade her to tell us everything. If you will promise to trust me.’

  If he didn’t Nicky’s life would be ruined.

  He regarded her for a long moment. ‘I trust you.’

  Her foolish heart gave a little skip. But her foolish heart did not always listen to reason. She only dared trust Freddy in this. After that she was on her own, as she had always been.

  * * *

  Minette called on Madame Vitesse the next morning. The interview proved uncomfortable, to say the least, once the woman realised what she was asking.

  The woman folded her arms across her chest. ‘You have not yet kept your side of our bargain.’

  Minette lifted her chin. ‘Why should I, if someone else obtains the information before I do?’


  Madame Vitesse blinked. ‘No one but me knows where my brother is.’

  ‘You know that is not true. Someone knows. A street sweeper. An innkeeper. A landlady. There is always someone. And those seeking him are not all as honourable as Falconwood. He will keep his word to you. I will wear your gowns.’ She reached out and grasped the other woman’s hand in her own. ‘Why would I not? They are beautiful. Unique. I have had more compliments this past week than ever before.’ She gestured around the upstairs workshop at the women plying their needles. ‘You already have more work than you can handle alone.’

  Madame Vitesse swallowed. ‘He is the only family I have left, apart from the children.’

  ‘We both know what it is to try to protect our families,’ she said softly. ‘If I don’t find this man we seek, if others reach him before me, those I care about will be in danger.’

  The woman took a deep breath and leaned close. ‘You will find Henri in the evenings at the The Town of Ramsgate in Wapping. He has work at the docks. There he goes by the name Henry Tower. It is what the English call him.’

  Minette squeezed her hand. ‘Thank you. I promise you will not regret it. Now, let me try on the ballgown.’ She had to hurry. Freddy would want to hear this news.

  ‘Merci, Mademoiselle. You are very kind.’

  ‘Not at all. We Frenchwomen must stick together.’

  * * *

  Freddy left his phaeton with his tiger. She had apologised for not trusting him. Twice. Freddy didn’t believe it. The lady doth protest too much. Shakespeare might be every schoolboy’s worst nightmare, but he was also an insightful man. If Freddy had to make a wager on it, he’d bet his estate that Minette didn’t trust him one little bit. And he couldn’t help but wonder who had abused the trust of such a very young woman.

  He glanced down at the note he had received at his lodgings.

  I have what we need. Call for me in your phaeton. I will tell Nicky we have arranged to go for a drive, but come late, after six.

  Given his visceral understanding, how was he to convince her to trust him to visit the seamstress’s brother without her? Appeal to her sense? The risk? Danger came in a variety of guises. If the Home Office boys followed them, who the hell knew what they would do with the information that his French fiancée was involved in Sceptre business?

  The butler bowed him into the Mooreshead town house. ‘The ladies are in the drawing room, Your Grace.’

  ‘Thank you. No need to show me up, I am expected.’ He climbed the stairs to the first floor and found Nicky working on some embroidery while Minette read aloud. A picture of domesticity that tugged at a chord in his chest. Longing. Good God, since when had he found such dullness appealing? He didn’t.

  Minette put the book down the moment he entered. ‘Freddy, what took you so long? I thought you were to come earlier.’

  ‘One of my horses threw a shoe.’ He bowed to Nicky. ‘Good day, Lady Mooreshead. I hope I find you well?’

  ‘Very well indeed,’ Nicky said with a warm smile. She looked radiant. ‘I am glad you are finally here to take this fidget out for a drive.’

  Minette laughed. ‘She made me read to stop me from pacing. It won’t take me a minute or two to get my hat.’

  She dashed from the room.

  Nicky shook her head. ‘So much vivacity. I am glad you are able to take her out. Gabe is so busy with the estate and Parliament he scarcely has a moment to spare.’ She touched a hand to her stomach then blushed. ‘The very thought of getting into a carriage makes me feel unwell at the moment.’

  A child. What would it be like to bring another being into the world? One to care for and who would follow in your footsteps? Bile rose in his throat. Not his footsteps. He forced a smile. ‘Then I am glad to relieve you of the duty and make it my pleasure. It is the only chance we have to converse alone.’

  Nicky’s eyes shadowed. ‘You are sure about this, Freddy? I would hate her to marry for such a reason and be made unhappy.’

  Frank words indeed. His shoulders tensed. The ice inside him spread outwards. ‘I will do nothing to make her regret our union.’ She would be a duchess, and have everything any woman could ever want. As long as she didn’t want children. Thankfully she need never know it was by design rather than accident.

  Minette appeared in the doorway, bonnet on her head and sunshade in hand.

  ‘We are lucky it is not raining,’ she said, once they were settled in his phaeton.

  ‘Don’t count your chickens,’ he said, looking up at the fluffy clouds floating above their heads. Some of them had the darkness of rain in their hearts.

  ‘Your tiger doesn’t come with us?’

  ‘He will wait for our return. I assumed we needed a bit of privacy. What did Madame Vitesse have to say?’

  ‘I know where to find her brother. He is using the name Henry Tower and working at the docks. We can find him at an inn, The Town of Ramsgate, in Wapping, at the end of the workday.’

  ‘The reason you asked me to delay our drive until later.’

  She nodded. ‘I am hoping we will find him there this evening.’

  ‘Devil take it, Minette, gently bred girls do not visit dockyard taverns. I will tell you everything when I return.’

  She folded her arms across her chest and glared at him. ‘Nonsense. It’s an inn. A public place.’ She leaned closer. ‘What could happen with you there to protect me?’ She glared when she realised he was not going to change his mind. ‘Now I wish I had kept this information to myself.’

  ‘Wasn’t it bad enough that you came to the Paradise, without exposing yourself to the sort of men who frequent a place like the Ramsgate?’

  ‘There you go again, treating me like a child. Well, I’m not a child. And the taverns in France are far more dangerous than anything here England.’

  She’d been a child when Nicky had left. He could well imagine what a girl left to fend for herself might have encountered. Or seen. The idea of it made his hands curl into fists. He forced himself to ease off on the ribbons before his horses did more than toss their heads in objection. ‘You are not in France now. I will meet Henry and relay what he says upon my return.’

  ‘Then I won’t know anything for two days. We are invited to visit some friends of Gabe’s and will leave early in the morning. We won’t be back until the day after tomorrow.’

  ‘It can wait a day or two.’

  She huffed out a breath. ‘I hate waiting.’

  The urge to laugh surprised him. In some ways she was older than her years and in others she seemed so much younger than him. Not that he would dare show his amusement. He could certainly see from the determined look on her face that she wouldn’t accept not knowing what he learned right away, and that was something he could arrange.

  ‘I’ll report back the moment I have spoken to him.’

  Suspicion filled her gaze. ‘You promise?’

  ‘I swear it. Where will you be this evening?’

  ‘At home. Because we leave Town tomorrow, we dine there with friends.’

  ‘I will come when they have left.’

  She frowned. ‘I don’t think Gabe will be pleased.’

  ‘He isn’t going to know. Leave your window open when you retire for the night.’

  Her eyes sparkled. ‘You are going to enter my room through the window?’

  ‘Try not to give me away, would you? I don’t want Gabe calling me out.’

  She shuddered. ‘Neither do I.’

  He breathed a sigh of relief. Then why did the back of his nape prickle? Damn it all, why did he have the sense her capitulation had been far too easy?

  * * *

  Crammed between Oliver’s Warf and the alley leading to Wapping Old Stairs, the Town of Ramsgate was indeed not the sort of place a young woman of good breeding sh
ould think about entering. On the opposite side of Wapping High Street, Minette hugged the shadows of St John’s Church. Freddy was going to be furious.

  And not just because she had gone against his express wishes that she wait for him at home.

  She’d meant to, she really had. She’d been truly charmed by the idea that he intended to protect her, until her doubts had bubbled up. Hadn’t she also been charmed by the way Pierre had sought to keep her safe? Hadn’t she adored him and his protectiveness? Until she’d discovered it had all been a front. Freddy had never even pretended he wanted her participation in his plans. Once he had the information she had discovered, what was to stop him going off to find Moreau without her?

  He could tell her anything when he visited her after his meeting.

  No, she had been finely tricked by Pierre. She wouldn’t give Freddy the chance to do the same.

  Two men in rough clothing wandered down the street, shoulders slumped, feet dragging. They stopped at the door of the tavern, where the light over the door lit the profile of the taller man. Her heart picked up speed. Freddy. And from his brawny build, the other man was Barker from the Fools’ Paradise. Their disguises were perfect. What would they think of hers?

  They disappeared inside.

  Squaring her shoulders, she pulled her ragged shawl up over her head and around her shoulders. She and Pierre had played this game often enough to make it second nature, but as always her heart beat faster and her breathing quickened, bringing to her nostrils the stink of the clothes she’d acquired, along with the dank smell of river, fish and the smoke from river coal. She forced herself to take ten deep, slow breaths to let the air become part of who she was, let poverty and hunger wash over her and then she shuffled across the street.

  Inside, the Ramsgate smelled and tasted like so many other taverns she had lingered in, listening for information. For Pierre. Never guessing the use to which he had put it. The noise of men’s voices, the acrid smoke of pipes, the stench of beer and unwashed bodies were the same. Only the language was different.