Love Lessons with the Duke

by Ruth Ann Nordin

  “Believe it or not, some ladies don’t mind being in the country.”

  “Do you like being there?”

  “I don’t like being by myself out there.”

  “But you have servants.”

  “It’s not the same as being with someone I care about.”

  He wasn’t sure what she meant. The servants had always been like family to him, and the butler was closer than his father. But there was no reason to tell her this. It had nothing to do with finding a wife.

  Bringing his gaze back to hers, he tried for another smile. “Is this better?”

  “It is,” she said, “but you still look uncomfortable.”

  “That’s because I am.”

  “Well, I suppose there’s little we can do about that. We’ll just work around it.”

  He wondered if he was disappointing her. No doubt, he required far more assistance than anyone else she worked with. Maybe she was secretly wishing there had been someone else who could have taken over this duty for her.

  Helena took a drink from her cup then placed it back on the tray. Turning her attention back to him, she smiled. “All right. Let’s think of some things you can talk about to get the lady’s interest.”

  “I haven’t ever been to the museum, and it’s been years since I went to the circus,” he told her. “I also don’t juggle.”

  To his surprise, she burst out laughing. He didn’t know what he’d said that was so funny, and he didn’t know whether to feel foolish for blurting all that out. But what good was it for her to suggest he discuss those things if he didn’t know anything about them? He could lie and pretend he did, he supposed. No, it was best he didn’t lie about something this important. He had to be honest. Then Helena could better teach him.

  When she finally stopped laughing, she took a deep breath and released it. And though he hadn’t meant to, his gaze went to her breasts which strained nicely against her dress. Face warm, he quickly lifted his gaze back to hers, praying she didn’t notice.

  “Camden, you have such an innocent charm about you,” she said and picked up her cup. “If you had any idea how refreshing it is, you wouldn’t be inclined to doubt yourself.”

  He relaxed. She hadn’t said he was foolish. She said he had charm. Granted, it was an innocent charm, and if Toplyn had said that, it would probably be a bad thing. But from the way Helena was smiling at him, he was assured she didn’t think the same way Toplyn did.

  After she was finished drinking, she poured more tea in her cup. “Are you sure you don’t want something to drink?”

  He shook his head.

  “Worried you’ll spill it?” she asked.

  “When I’m nervous, I’ve been known to be clumsy.”

  “If I only pour the tea halfway in the cup, would that calm your fears?”

  “No. I could still spill it.”

  “And the crumpet?”

  “Crumbs.”

  Her eyebrows furrowed. “Crumbs?”

  “Any food can be messy and get all over the furniture, floor, or clothes,” he said.

  “Messes can be cleaned up.”

  Maybe, but it was still an inconvenience. “I’d rather not chance it.”

  “I hope during one of your visits, you won’t feel so nervous that you can’t eat or drink anything.” She took another sip of her tea then turned her attention to him. “Now, regarding conversation, you don’t have to talk about the museum, circus, or juggling. In fact, considering how shy you are, it might be best if you use another technique.”

  “Oh?” This sounded promising.

  “With ladies who are shy, I suggest asking gentlemen questions. The nice thing about questions is that you do very little talking. You take whatever the person says and ask them questions to learn more about them. I’ll demonstrate. Camden, what interests do you have?”

  “Interests? Oh, well…um…” Did she mean things he did because he had to or things he did because he wanted to? Because if she meant the latter, then he’d have nothing to tell her. And that being the case, he was safer sticking to the things he had to do. “I care for the horses.”

  “You mean you ride them?”

  “I do that, too. But mostly, I shoe them and clean them. I clean up after them, too, but I don’t enjoy it.”

  “Are you telling me you do the stable boy’s job?” she asked, her tone growing softer.

  “If I didn’t do it, no one would, and since I do, the horses are healthy and we have a way to travel when we need to. I don’t travel often, of course, but when we need food or other items, the horses are necessary.” When it occurred to him how her questions had gotten him to talk despite his apprehension, he further relaxed. “I see what you mean. Asking questions is a lot easier to do than trying to come up with something a lady might find interesting. Should I try it with you?”

  She blinked. “What?”

  “The question method. Should I try it to see how I do?”

  “Oh. Yes. We were asking questions.” She shifted and smiled. “You try it. Ask me something.”

  “All right. What are your interests?”

  “I enjoy riding horses.”

  After a moment, he asked, “Do you get to do that often?”

  “When I was married, I did it every day.”

  “You were married?” he spoke up before she had time to say more.

  “Years ago, yes. But my husband passed away in an unfortunate incident.”

  “I didn’t realize you were a widow.”

  “You didn’t? I thought everyone knew it.”

  “I keep to myself most of the time.” His answer must have satisfied her since she nodded. “May I ask if yours was a love match?” He didn’t think she was the type to marry for a title or money, but the only way to know was to ask, even if it was indirectly.

  “It wasn’t a love match,” she slowly began. “It was an arrangement between our parents, who were friends. My husband and I knew each other since childhood, and we knew we would one day marry.”

  “Did you two love each other?”

  “We did in the way friends have an affection for each other.”

  When her voice drifted off and she broke eye contact, he sensed there was something more to her past, and it was probably something that hurt her. If he knew her better, he’d ask her about it. But since he didn’t, he decided to stick to more pleasant matters.

  “When you’re in London, do you miss riding horses?” He noted her relief and was glad he changed the topic.

  “I could go for a horse ride,” she said. “But no one I know wants to go, and if I go for one while in London, I’d prefer to be with a friend. But none of my friends care much for horses. They’d rather take a nice stroll through the park.”

  “It’s a shame I can’t go with you. I like riding horses, too. I don’t mind riding them alone while I’m here, but it is nicer to have someone to ride with me.”

  Realizing he’d started rambling, he stopped. He was supposed to be asking her questions, not telling her about himself.

  But she offered him a pleased smile. “You do this part very well, Camden. You were not only a good listener, but you participated in the conversation. If you start by asking questions, then I believe the rest will take care of itself.”

  “It’s easy with you.”

  “It’ll be easy with other ladies, too. I’m not the only one you can do it with.”

  He wasn’t sure about that. She had a way of making him feel like he could say something interesting.

  Rising to her feet, she said, “In two days, I’d like you to return. We’ll discuss the things you will do at Lord Reddington’s ball.”

  “Lord Reddington’s ball?”

  “Yes. It’s in two days.”

  Alarmed, he shot up. “But I won’t be ready in two days.”

  “You have no need to worry. I’ll prepare you for it when you come over early that afternoon, and then I’ll be there to guide you at the ball.”

  “Well,
I…” Realizing she meant it—that she actually expected him to go to a ball in two days, he managed to choke out, “Can you at least see me tomorrow, too? An extra day would help.”

  “I can’t. I have to give Miss Clarkson her lesson. Unfortunately, she loves being in London and attending every social event she can. Otherwise, she’d be ideal for you. Her father is wealthy, and she can talk so much you wouldn’t even need to think of anything to ask her. But then,” she shrugged, “maybe it’s for the best. You do want a lady who knows how to be quiet from time to time.”

  “Is there any lady you’re currently teaching who might be a good fit for me?”

  She clasped her hands and paused, her gaze going to the ceiling. But when she looked back at him, she shook her head. “I’m afraid not. These particular ladies enjoy their time in London. A couple have never been here until this Season and are in love with all there is to do. Since they are wealthy, they can afford to do things while here.” She sighed then added, “I’m sure we’ll find a suitable one soon.”

  He hoped she was right. But… “If I have to marry a lady who likes London, I’m willing to come here every summer so she can do the things she wants to do.”

  “Let’s try to find you one who prefers the country first. A compatible match is ideal, even when you’re marrying out of necessity.”

  He nodded and followed her to the doors.

  She opened them and turned to face him. “You’re doing very well, Camden. Before next time, I want you to concentrate on things that make you happy. See if you can get a better smile. Also, practice on having good posture like I showed you. Sometimes it helps to look in the mirror and see how you look while doing it. I believe it’ll help your confidence.”

  “All right. Thank you.”

  She wished him a pleasant afternoon, and he left the townhouse.

  Chapter Six

  The next morning, Camden wrote his mother a missive. It was something to do to pass the time, and it helped to ease his nerves. When he was writing to her, he didn’t need to think of the very real possibility his trip to London might be a dismal failure. If he didn’t get a wife...

  He shook his head. No, he wouldn’t think about it. He had Lady Seyton’s help, and she was an expert in this area. Already, she’d given him ideas he never would have thought of. For the first time since he found out about his brother’s death, he believed things were going to be all right.

  You’ll be happy to know I succeeded in enlisting the help of Lady Seyton, he wrote. She was reluctant at first, but after seeing my feeble attempts at the ball the other evening, she changed her mind.

  He paused, wondering if he should tell his mother why she changed her mind. No. It was best not to include that part. His mother didn’t need to know everything his father had said about him was true. He dipped the quill in the inkwell and continued writing.

  I should have a wife by July. The next ball I’m going to will be tomorrow evening. Perhaps this is the one where I’ll meet the future duchess. After a moment of debate, he decided to tell her some things happening in London then ended the missive with, Give my regards to Aunt Ginny.

  Done, he sealed it then summoned the butler, who just happened to be the sole servant in the townhouse he was renting. And this butler wasn’t nearly as kind as the one he left behind to care for his mother and aunt at the estate. He was looking forward to going back to the country. Things in London were so impersonal.

  “Your Grace?” the butler asked as he came into the drawing room.

  Camden handed him the missive. “Send this out.”

  The butler took it then bowed before giving a sharp turn on his heel and leaving the room.

  Camden released his breath. It was silly, of course, that he let the butler intimidate him, and he hoped the butler didn’t realize it. At least the butler was polite and never gave him a reason to believe he thought less of him.

  Clearing his throat, Camden decided to go for a walk. He needed to do something. Yesterday had gone quickly because he went to Helena’s. Yes, a walk would be a good distraction.

  He left the townhouse and proceeded down the street, not paying attention to where he was going. But soon, he realized he was heading in the direction of Helena’s residence. His steps slowed. Should he change course or keep going? What if she looked out her window and saw him? Would she think there was something wrong with him?

  He shook his head. Of course not. She wouldn’t think anything of it. She’d assume he was only out for a stroll. Lots of people walked in London. And this was a pleasant day. He released his breath, already feeling better.

  He wished he didn’t question every little thing he did. No one else had these kinds of doubts. They were comfortable with themselves and did as they pleased, and no one thought less of them because of it. Why couldn’t he be the same way?

  He came upon Helena’s townhouse, and his steps slowed. He didn’t mean for them to, and when he realized what he was doing, he told himself to continue with the pace he’d been using before. But for some reason, his feet wouldn’t obey him. He glanced at the window of her drawing room. Not seeing her there, he let his gaze go to the other windows. But again, he didn’t see her.

  He sighed and finally succeeded in picking up his pace. Really, what did he think was going to happen? Did he honestly expect her to stop everything she was doing and tell him to visit her? She’d never do such a thing, even if she did see him. For one, she was busy. She had many things to occupy her time. And second, she had better things to do than to think about him.

  Once he made it past her townhouse, he glanced around to make sure no one was watching. Good. No one was.

  Releasing his breath, he turned down another street. Soon, he ended up at Hyde Park. He debated whether or not he wanted to go there—again—and sit on the bench, as was his habit. He pulled out his pocket watch and grimaced. How was it possible that time was going so slow?

  He was beginning to think this day would never end. Not only did he have trouble sleeping last night, but he’d also gotten up earlier than usual. And no matter what he tried to do to fill the time, each passing hour seemed to go slower than the last. With a shake of his head, he slipped his pocket watch back in his pocket then proceeded to the park.

  It was nerves. That’s what it was. He had to find a wife, a stressful prospect in its own way, but he also couldn’t do anything to get one until tomorrow. And tomorrow seemed like an abnormally long time from now, which was ironic when he considered how short the time seemed when he realized he only had one month to get a wife.

  He stayed at the park for a good hour before he noticed a couple people pass his bench a second time. They glanced his way, and he wasn’t sure if they pitied him because he was still sitting there—all by himself—or if they were secretly laughing at him. Either way, he decided he better leave. It didn’t seem that anyone else ever came here alone.

  After he left the park, he decided to go to White’s. The nice thing about White’s was that most of the gentlemen came there alone. They might find someone to talk to once there. Most of them were too busy playing games, indulging in gossip, or reading to bother with him. At White’s, he could blend into the background and become invisible.

  On this day, however, as soon as he entered the gentleman’s club, Mr. Robinson approached him. Surprised, since Mr. Robinson had never done this before, Camden halted in mid-step on his way to the chair by the large window. What did Mr. Robinson want with him?

  “I hear Lady Seyton agreed to help you find a wife,” Mr. Robinson blurted out before Camden could offer a greeting.

  “You did?” Since when did Mr. Robinson—or anyone—care about what he was doing?

  “There’s a wager about it. Toplyn started it yesterday.”

  Camden shifted from one foot to the other. “Oh?”

  “He’s betting you won’t get a wife by the end of the month.” Mr. Robinson nodded toward the room where a group of gentlemen were gathered. “Want to go in th
ere and challenge him to a duel?”

  “I can’t challenge him to a duel.”

  “Sure you can. Invite him out of London then let him have what’s coming to him.”

  Camden shook his head. Even if he wasn’t happy with what Toplyn was doing, he knew better than to engage him, especially in something as dangerous as a duel. One of them would die, and knowing how awkward he was, it’d be him.

  “Doesn’t it bother you?” Mr. Robinson asked.

  “Of course, it does.” No one wanted to think they were so pathetic that people would think they had no chance of getting a wife.

  Camden went around him, but he followed him. After Camden sat in a chair, Mr. Robinson settled in the one beside him. “Why don’t you go in there and give Toplyn a swift punch in the jaw like Davenport did to Pennella? That put the fear of God into Pennella. Pennella won’t even make eye contact with him. You do something like that to Toplyn, and that’ll show him he can’t do this to you.”

  Camden sighed, wishing Mr. Robinson would let the matter go. But since Mr. Robinson was staring at him, Camden felt he had to say something. Finally, he forced out, “It doesn’t matter what Toplyn thinks.”

  It was a lie, but he prayed Mr. Robinson didn’t pick up on it. His mother often warned him that if people knew they could upset him, they’d only do it more. And the last thing Camden wanted to do was encourage Toplyn to make other bets about him.

  “Your honor is at stake,” Mr. Robinson said.

  If Camden had any idea this was what he’d be coming to when he decided to come to White’s, he would have gone right back to his townhouse. With a sigh, he made eye contact with Mr. Robinson, hoping that by doing so, he’d get the gentleman to stop bothering him. “It doesn’t matter what Toplyn says. Lady Seyton knows what she’s doing. I’ll have a wife at the end of the month.”

  “You really believe that?”

  “I have full confidence in Lady Seyton.”

  After a moment, Mr. Robinson rose to his feet. “All right.” Then he left.

  Camden settled back in the seat, relieved the confrontation was over. He was never good at confrontations. Not only did they bother him, but they only reminded him of how inadequate he was.