The Duke's Daring Debutante (Regency Historical Romance)

by Ann Lethbridge

  Nicky’s eyebrows rose. ‘Minette, you surely don’t mean—’

  The clock on the mantel struck seven.

  ‘Oh, goodness,’ Minette said. ‘I should have gone down by now. His mother is sure to give me a scold for being late. She was most insistent I be there to greet the guests.’

  ‘As is right.’ Nicky frowned. ‘You should not let his mother intimidate you. After all, you will be the Duchess very soon. She really should remove to the dower house before you wed.’

  ‘Can we talk about this later?’ There wasn’t going to be a wedding. She certainly didn’t want to worsen the relationship between Freddy and his mother for no good reason.

  ‘Go, then. I’ll locate Gabe and see you downstairs.’

  Freddy was waiting at the top of the stairs to take her down. ‘You look lovely,’ he said.

  He looked good enough to eat in his black evening coat and satin knee breeches. They went well with his dark looks. So austerely handsome. And ducal. ‘Thank you.’ She touched the necklace. ‘And thank you for sending the jewels. They are magnifique.’ She would have to return them after the ball, his mother had made very certain to tell her that. ‘Any news of you know who?’

  ‘Nothing. And we won’t. The cordon around the house is so tight not even a tadpole can wiggle through.’

  ‘Soldiers?’

  ‘They will be of help, too.’

  At the bottom of the stairs, his mother waited, wearing a gown of old gold adorned with diamonds and rubies. ‘Mother,’ Freddy said coolly.

  His mother looked both of them up and down. ‘Well, at least you won’t put me to shame this evening.’

  Minette curled her fingers in her palm to stop herself from hitting the critical face, and bit her tongue to prevent the angry words rising up in her throat from issuing forth.

  Freddy smiled at her as if he appreciated her struggle, and she stopped herself from rolling her eyes in answer. They were acting like two children caught in mischief.

  Then the guests started arriving and they were too busy greeting them to exchange another word for an hour. When they finally entered the ballroom the dancing had already begun and people were laughing and talking.

  Lady Priscilla sidled up to her with a wary look at Freddy at her side. ‘Everyone is so impressed with the room’s decoration,’ she murmured. ‘I overheard Her Grace say it was all your idea.’

  What a surprise. ‘Yes. Most of the plants came from the gardens here.’

  The other girl looked around her with a smile. ‘It is fabulous, despite what Her Grace said. And smells heavenly. Everyone in Town will be copying it for the rest of the season.’

  So Her Grace had found a way to be uncomplimentary while giving her the credit. It was almost too bad she was not going to end up marrying Freddy and getting the woman out of his house so he could have a bit of peace from her biting remarks. She just hoped the next wife he chose would manage it.

  The set came to a close. ‘Oh, I have to go. I promised to dance with Lieutenant Granby.’ She gave Minette a worried look. ‘You don’t mind, do you? I know he was one of your court, but he has been rather at a loss since the announcement of your engagement.’ She blushed. ‘And I find I like him.’

  Minette took her hand. ‘That is wonderful. He is a nice young man. I wish you both happy.’

  Priscilla gave her a conspiratorial smile. ‘I’m going to try to get him to go with me to the library.’

  Minette laughed.

  ‘Something amuses you?’ Freddy asked.

  ‘Very much.’

  ‘Don’t feel you have to keep me company all evening. Go and dance. Enjoy yourself.’

  ‘When are we going to have our dance?’

  His eyes gleamed with amusement. ‘When hell freezes over.’

  ‘You promised.’

  ‘No. You promised. I’m sorry. No one will be surprised any more than they were surprised that we did not open the dancing.’

  ‘So what will you be doing while I dance the night away?’

  ‘Play cards. Walk the grounds.’

  ‘To make sure all is safe?’

  He inclined his head. ‘One can never be too careful.’

  * * *

  It wasn’t often Freddy bemoaned the things he couldn’t do because of his foot. This evening, though, he wished he could have given in to Minette’s desire that he dance instead of watch. He loved the way her eyes sparkled, how light she was on her pretty feet as she spun around her partners. He would have given his soul to have partnered her in a dance. If he’d had a soul, that was.

  After an hour of standing on the sidelines, talking to guests, accepting congratulations, some of which were actually sincere, and avoiding his cousins, he needed fresh air. He also needed a word with Barker, who, with the men he had brought from London, was patrolling the gardens.

  He strolled out of the ballroom, across the terrace to the stairs.

  ‘Frederick. I say, old man.’

  Damn, he hadn’t notice his cousin had come this way. Too busy watching Minette and trying to look perfectly content as she whirled around the room on other men’s arms. ‘Arthur.’

  ‘You have chosen a beautiful girl,’ his cousin said admiringly.

  ‘I rather think she chose me,’ Freddy said.

  Arthur coughed behind his hand. ‘Does she know about...?’ He looked embarrassed.

  ‘About my foot, you mean.’

  A wince crossed his cousin’s face. ‘Too bad you took after your mother’s side of the family in that regard.’

  His fist clenched. He relaxed his fingers. ‘Your point?’

  ‘Well. You know. I was just wondering if...’

  The man was a coward and an idiot. ‘You were not wondering, Liz was. And it is none of her damned business.’ He turned and walked away.

  ‘Freddy,’ his cousin said. ‘You said...’

  By the time he hit the flagstones at the bottom of the steps he could no longer hear his cousin’s pleading. Damn it all. Wasn’t it bad enough that he couldn’t dance with his betrothed? Did he have to have his infirmity thrown up at him at every turn?

  The urge to strike at something, someone, was a roar in his ears.

  Barker stepped out in front of him, and instinctively Freddy raised his fist.

  ‘Whoa!’ Barker said. ‘It’s me.’

  Freddy cursed and dropped his arm. ‘Apologies. Let me hear you coming next time. Everything in order?’

  ‘Neat as a pin. A mouse couldn’t get near the house without someone seeing.’

  Trouble was, the individual they were dealing with was far more devious than a mouse. ‘You checked the guest list?’

  ‘All in order. No one here that should not be.’

  ‘The servants?’

  ‘Not a Frenchie among them.’

  ‘Hmmph.’

  ‘What’s wrong, Guv?’

  Other than the lies he’d told his betrothed? Lies of omission Arthur had been pleased to remind him of. ‘Not a damn thing.’

  ‘You go on now. Enjoy your party. I’ve got my eye on things out here.’

  Barker was right, and besides, he needed to keep watch inside the house, since they had no clue about Moreau’s plans. He’d warned Gabe, who would see no harm came to Nicky, but he should be keeping an eye on Minette. Other than Nicky, she was the only person who had ever seen the man, which was a danger all of its own. ‘Report to me in my rooms when the ball is over.’

  Barker touched his forelock and glanced up at the sky. ‘Moon is rising. Pretty soon it will be nigh as clear as day out here.’

  ‘It is the shadows you need to worry about.’

  He headed back for the house, crossing the lawn in front of the veranda, the music drifting on the breeze.
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  The figure of a woman was tripping across the lawn towards him, skirts lifted in one hand, her skin pearly white in the moonlight. Minette.

  ‘Here you are,’ she said gaily. She hooked her arm through his and danced along beside him. So much energy. And joy. She was enjoying this party and her joie de vivre lifted his spirits. He’d promised to squire her to balls every night if she would agree to go through with their marriage.

  They were halfway across the lawn when the music stopped. A breeze whispered through the nearby shrubbery like a sigh. She halted, pulling on his arm.

  He glanced quickly around them. ‘What?’

  ‘Look.’ She pointed upwards. ‘The moon and the stars. Isn’t it beautiful?’

  He gazed down into her face. ‘Yes. It is.’

  She frowned. ‘You aren’t looking.’

  ‘Because what I am looking at is far more beautiful.’ Damn, what had made him say such a thing, even if it was the truth?

  A laugh shook her shoulders. ‘Flatterer.’

  ‘I never flatter.’

  The music began again. Something stately and slow.

  She turned to face him, ‘Dance with me. Out here where no one can see us.’

  ‘A set of two people?’ he scoffed.

  ‘No, there’s a dance of two I learned in France. The Ländler. Put your hands on my waist. I dare you.’

  Her voice brimmed with mischief. And something else. Affection. And, damn him, he wanted to please her on this night of their betrothal.

  ‘You are anxious to see me fall on my face.’ But he was already giving in, holding her as directed, and feeling something fizzing in his veins, something he barely recognised.

  She put her hands on his shoulders. ‘We step in circles in time to the music. Try it.’ She moved her feet. He stumbled. Off balance.

  ‘This is ridiculous.’ He let go of her waist.

  ‘Try again,’ she said. ‘Please. No one can see us.’

  ‘A good thing, too. This is scandalous.’ He clasped her once more, this time more firmly.

  She laughed. ‘Left foot forward, right foot forward, half turn step. Left foot forward, right foot forward, half turn step.’ Somehow she adjusted for his limp, which had become more pronounced.

  The rhythm came easily. It was like riding a horse. He relaxed and soon they were spinning in slow circles across the lawn in time to the music. It was magical.

  ‘Try going straight for a few steps so we don’t get dizzy,’ he muttered.

  She laughed up at him. ‘I’ll follow your lead.’

  It felt a little awkward at first, but then they were gliding across the lawn, sometimes turning, sometimes not. A rosebush loomed up out of the shadows and, trying to avoid it, he lost his balance. He was going down. Taking her with him.

  He twisted, landing on his back, his legs tangling in her skirts, her breasts hard against his chest. ‘Damnation,’ he said when he felt her shoulders shaking. ‘I hurt you.’

  A laugh erupted from the woman lying across him. She was laughing. He felt a chill spread out in his chest. He’d made a fool of himself.

  ‘That was so much fun,’ she gasped through her laughter. ‘It is terribly wicked, you know, in polite society. The common people do it all the time, I am told.’

  She wasn’t laughing at him, she was enjoying the moment.

  He chuckled, then laughed. Out loud. And couldn’t stop. He kissed her soundly. ‘God, do you have any idea how much I love you?’

  He froze. Had he really spoken those words? And meant them? He gazed up at her face, and she looked down at him, her expression clear in the cold moonlight.

  She blinked.

  He stroked her cheek. ‘I love you,’ he whispered, knowing it for a truth, and kissed her lips tenderly with his heart so high in his throat it felt like tears.

  She inhaled a shaky breath and he held his, hoping, like the idiot he was, that she just might—

  ‘For Heaven’s sake!’ a voice said in a low whisper. ‘What are you doing?’

  Shocked back into the present by that hissing tone, he struggled to his feet and helped Minette to hers. He brushed them both off, trying to regain his balance, physically and mentally. ‘Mother. What are you doing out here?’

  ‘Me?’ she shrilled. She looked over her shoulder. ‘Half of our guests are up there, watching you cavort like a fool. Have you no shame?’

  Beside him, Minette twitched at her skirts. ‘I was teaching His Grace a new dance.’

  ‘I don’t know what sort of manners pertain in your family but I can assure you—’

  ‘That’s enough,’ Freddy bit out.

  ‘It is nowhere near enough. Do you think I do not know what the pair of you were doing the other evening? Dinner in your rooms.’ Her voice, though little more than a whisper, shook with rage. ‘Have you forgotten the vow you made on your brother’s grave?’

  His stomach churned. He gripped Minette’s arm, intending to walk her away. This was not a conversation they were going to have.

  Minette resisted his tug on her arm. ‘What vow?’

  ‘Mother,’ he warned.

  ‘The vow he swore on his brother’s grave to never marry.’

  ‘Why would he do that?’ Minette asked, looking at him.

  ‘He got want he wanted,’ Mother said, her tone venomous. ‘He stole the title from his brother. He doesn’t deserve—’

  Damn Mother, bringing this out now. ‘I will not profit from my brother’s death. No child of mine will inherit. My cousin and his son are my heirs.’

  ‘You never spoke of this,’ Minette said.

  The triumph on his mother’s face came as no surprise, but the shock on Minette’s face struck him hard. ‘I’m sorry.’

  ‘You should have told me.’

  Yes, he should have. But she really hadn’t given him a lot of options. ‘But for your little games, I would not be getting married.’ No, no. That was not what he’d meant to say.

  The hurt on her face paid him back a hundredfold.

  Damn it all. He had not meant to be cruel, it was just that... They could not have this conversation now. He glanced up at the veranda. There were only two heads. Those of his cousin and his wife. They must have gone to tell his mother about their foolish dancing. ‘It is time to go back inside. We have made enough of an exhibition of ourselves for one night.’

  He closed his eyes and took a deep breath. It had been wonderful. He couldn’t remember when he’d felt so young or so carefree. Never had he been to a ball where he had actually enjoyed himself. He held out his arm, and she placed her hand upon it. In frigid silence they followed his mother across the lawn to the terrace steps.

  The emptiness inside him grew deeper as he recalled her dismay—and that she hadn’t said she loved him back.

  He felt just as small inside as he had as a child when picked last for every game of cricket, or left behind when his peers had gone off on mischief. No one wanted a cripple along.

  * * *

  Astonishing as it seemed to Minette, Her Grace was in the dining room, playing the charming hostess at breakfast. Perhaps knowing Freddy intended to keep his vow to remain childless had cheered her up. But Freddy was nowhere in evidence. The man had said he loved her and in that shocking, astonishing moment she had realised she loved him, too. Desperately.

  And she desperately wished she had said something out there on the lawn, instead of staring at him like a moon calf.

  Yes, it was disappointing that he didn’t want children. But after a night of tossing and turning she had decided that children were not necessary to her happiness. They would have each other. Now she was searching through the public rooms of the house, trying to find him. To tell him what had been becoming more and more apparent to her over these past f
ew days. His declaration had taken her by surprise, left her momentarily wordless. And if she was honest, fearful that he might regret his declaration in the light of the morning. Still, she’d been cowardly. She should have told him what was in her heart.

  And then his horrid mother had arrived and she’d lost her chance.

  Both the billiard room and the gun room were empty. She headed for the library, where a footman had told her several gentlemen had gathered. As she approached, male laughter sailed out of the open door. One voice lasting a little longer than the others. A deep, rich chuckle she would know anywhere.

  Moreau? She froze. Moreau was in the house? In the library? How was it possible? A footman stationed outside the library door was pretending not to notice her standing as still as a statue in the middle of the corridor. With a quick breath, she set her shoulders and started walking towards the door. He was in library. She would know that laugh anywhere. How was it possible he had entered the house without anyone noticing? She had greeted everyone at the door the previous evening.

  The rumble of male voices died out.

  Back straight, she entered the room, took in its occupants with a swift glance. There were three men—Freddy’s cousin Arthur, a thin young man with a head of cherubic mousy curls and one older man with a large lumpy red nose and a huge belly. None of them were Moreau. All rose to their feet, the fat one creaking loudly as if his corset was about to give way. He must be a friend of the Prince Regent, who also creaked when he moved.

  She must have been mistaken about that laugh. Hearing things. ‘Good morning, gentlemen.’ She dipped a curtsey, hoping it was of the correct depth for while she remembered the other two vaguely from the introductions the previous evening she did not recall names or ranks.

  ‘Good morning, Miss Rideau,’ Freddy’s cousin said. He had a hearty cheerful voice and a patently false beaming smile. ‘I am surprised to see you up so early. Most of the other ladies are still in their chambers after such a rackety evening.’

  Was that a sly dig she heard in his voice? Had he seen her dancing with Freddy on the lawn? Seen him fall?

  The other men seemed to be waiting for her to say something. They probably wanted her to go so they could get back to their newspapers.