The Devilish Duke: Book eight in the Regency Romps Series

by Elizabeth Bramwell

  “Don’t say so in front of Ferdy,” she begged. “He’ll attempt to marry me off to you there and then before you grow irritated by my company!”

  He didn’t trust himself to respond to this, so settled for patting her arm and making a non-committal noise.

  They reached the end of the Pump Room, where the musicians were playing a lively piece that made it impossible to continue talking. While the rest of the guests sauntered on by without paying any attention at all to the music, Miss Scott insisted on stopping to watch them play. Dr Lacey and Jane stopped beside them, and Devenish noted the brotherly affection on the face of the young physician as Miss Scott listened on, entranced. While better than mediocre, the music being played was not a noteworthy piece. It did not matter; Miss Scott’s delight in it rendered the music exquisite to Devenish, and a glance over at Jane made him realise that she was taking joy in their new companion’s delight as well.

  The piece ended, and while everyone in the Pump Room paused to clap politely out of good manners, Miss Scott’s applause was both enthusiastic and genuine.

  “What marvellous players!” she declared, loud enough that the cellist at least heard her, and beamed as a result.

  “Do you like music, Miss Scott?” said Jane with an encouraging smile.

  Their new friend nodded.

  “Very much so! It’s why I adore the winter festivities back home so much, for the carol singers make everything much more joyful, and Lady Climping always fetches some fine London musicians to play for us.” She paused and then shot a look over at Dr Lacey that was full of mischief. “At least, she claims to pay for top tier London musicians, but a little bird told me that he’s never heard of any of them in the City, and strongly suspects that they’re only from one county over!”

  “The Lancashire accents gave it away,” said Lacey with an amused smile. “You must understand, Your Grace, that poor Miss Scott here is so starved of music produced by anyone but herself, that she has been known to conscript me into singing just to have a fresh voice in the room.”

  “You sing beautifully, Lacey,” said Miss Scott. “And at least you don’t sound like a pregnant cow attempting soprano, which is the best my brothers can manage. Oh, now what have I said to start you all laughing again?”

  “I have the strongest suspicion that you and I will become fast friends, Miss Scott,” declared Jane. “Surrender her to me, Devenish! I must learn more about the singing abilities of Miss Scott’s other relatives.”

  Irritation flared in Devenish, but he relinquished Miss Scott’s arm nonetheless. The twinkle in Jane’s eye suggested the woman was meddling, and it occurred to him that she spent far too much time alone with Lady Seraphinia.

  “I believe that we should fetch the glasses of water for our companions, Dr Lacey,” he said as the two ladies sauntered off, neither of them so much as looking over their shoulders.

  Lacey stared after them for a moment, before turning to face Devenish. He inclined his head in a graceful motion.

  “Yes, Your Grace, and if you can convince my charge to consume another glass, I will be both surprised and delighted.”

  Devenish felt his mouth kick up. “Difficult, is he?”

  “Considering the pain he endures, not in the least,” said Lacey. “I hope to be able to help him alleviate that without having to rely on opiates. I have an interest in the treatment and management of pain, you see, and was lucky enough to be referred to Mr Scott by his uncle, Sir Edmund. I intend to make the most of the opportunity.”

  There was something about the way he said that last line that suggested to Devenish that there was much more to this tale, but their acquaintance was too new for him to pursue the topic. He filed the information away, determined to learn more about Ferdinand Scott, and his relationship with his uncle.

  “If you have the time, Dr Lacey, I would be most grateful if you would consult with Her Grace. My mother has suffered an acceleration in her condition over the last few years, and we would be appreciative for your thoughts about her arthritis.”

  The man’s eyes went wide for a moment. Being able to claim a Duchess as a patient would be a considerable coup for his career, and Devenish was amused by Lacey’s determination to appear nonchalant about the offer.

  “Naturally I will be able to visit with Her Grace at her convenience,” he said, inclining his head once again. “I thank you for your trust in me.”

  Devenish just smiled. He was honest enough to admit to himself that his offer was nothing to do with helping the young doctor, and everything to do with establishing an excuse to see more of Miss Scott.

  “Shall we fetch the waters, then?” said Devenish, motioning towards the fountain. “Lady Seraphinia is not a woman to be trifled with.”

  They began to make their way over, Miss Scott and Jane lost to the steady flow of walkers taking a turn about the room. Devenish did not even bother to disguise that he searched every face for hers, and his indifference towards every lady who attempted to catch his eye.

  He was about to give up and focus instead on the task at hand when his eyes fell upon a familiar gentleman in possession of a large wooden box, who appeared to be attempting to cajole some of the staff into taking it off his hands.

  “Parrots,” muttered Devenish.

  “I’m sorry, Your Grace?” queried Dr Lacey. “I thought you said something about parrots.”

  Devenish shook his head. “Trust me when I say that you do not want to be involved. I must ask you to fetch and carry the waters for everyone, Dr Lacey, as I have an urgent matter to attend to. An extremely urgent matter.”

  Dr Lacey glanced over at the entrance of the Pump Room but was unable to see the disaster that would undoubtedly unfold without immediate intervention. He did not, however, argue the point.

  “As you wish, Your Grace,” said Lacey. He performed a perfect bow, and then made his way over to the fountain.

  Devenish took a deep breath and counted to ten before setting off towards the Pump Room’s entrance as a clipping pace.

  “Lord Arthur! I demand to speak with you in private right now – and for God’s sake, man, if you open up that crate I’ll be forced to horsewhip you all the way to London, and then hand you over to Kate!”

  CHAPTER FOUR

  Their mornings at the Pump Room fell quickly into an easy routine, and Cassandra could not remember a happier time in all of her life. Two weeks in Bath felt like a glorious lifetime, and even if she had yet to attend one of the famous Balls at the Upper Assembly Rooms (Ferdy’s health still being somewhat precarious), card parties and small soirees had more than made up for it.

  The patronage of Her Grace and Lady Seraphinia had guaranteed them a ticket into Bath society, leading to introductions with some of the most interesting people she’d ever had the chance to converse with.

  “But why such interest in India,” Mrs Jones had said, perplexed at her questions during one morning at the Pump Room.

  “It’s so different to Bath, let alone my home town,” she’d tried to explain. “Your husband mentioned how very hot it can be, and that people can ride on elephants, and that the food contains more spice than I’ve had in my life, and that the Sultans wear outfits more sumptuous than anything you could see at the Royal Court in England!”

  Mrs Jones had raised her hands and laughed. “You ask more questions than my own daughters do about my home! Don’t you think, Lady Seraphinia?”

  “I think Miss Scott has a bluestocking bent to her mind, which should be encouraged,” the Dowager Baroness had replied with something approaching a smile. “Tell her about Shah Jahan, and how he loved his wife, Mumtaz Mahal, so much that he built her a mausoleum that rivals any building in Rome.”

  She’d been entranced by everything Mrs Jones had told her about India, while her husband, Mr Jones, was happy to regale Cassie with tales of his misspent youth around the world. Their widowed daughter, the delightful Mrs Anna Clyde, was as entranced as she by the stories, and by their second
meeting, they had decided to become fast friends.

  While their relatives enjoyed time conversing in the Pump Room – Ferdy with Her Grace and Lady Seraphinia, and Anna’s stepdaughter under the watchful eye of Mrs Jones – the two of them had taken to strolling about together, sometimes wandering out into the town to take advantage of the nice weather days.

  After all, Cassandra could not spend all of her free time talking to Devenish, just as Anna could not devote all her attention to the gregarious Lord Arthur.

  Lady Seraphinia would scold them horribly if they did, although it had not escaped Cassandra’s attention that Miss Lindon was allowed to walk about the Pump Rooms with Lacey as much as she wished.

  “I think moving to Bath was the best decision I ever made,” said Anna as the two of them walked arm in arm down Milsom Street.

  “How strange, I was just thinking the exact same thing myself,” replied Cassandra with a broad grin. “The marchpane alone would be enough to convince me, but so many interesting people from so many different places!”

  “I’m sorry to say that my parents had rarely talked about their life in India before we came here, but as Lady Seraphinia insists on speaking to mother in Hindi, it’s forced her to acknowledge her youth and share her stories with us at long last,” said Anna. “It’s wonderful to learn more about the place I was born.”

  “They have so many interesting stories,” agreed Cassandra. “In fact, so many of the people I have met here do! The Colonel introduced me to a violinist, Mr Bridgetower, who was such an interesting gentleman! He grew up in Poland, but his father was a Barbadian prince, which was why the Hungarian Royal Family took an interest in him. I wish I could have talked with his father as well; I don’t know anyone from Barbados.”

  Anna shook her head as she laughed. “Only you could be disappointed in having conversed with one of England’s premier virtuoso violinists!”

  “I did say I thought he was very talented,” said Cassandra, only a little defensive. “But I’ve been so little exposed to real musicians that I think they all sound exceptional.”

  “Does nothing about Bath disappoint you?” laughed Anna.

  Cassandra gave the question some thought before answering.

  “The hills,” she said eventually. “It’s awfully inconvenient for Ferdy when he has to use his chair, and for a town that caters to the sickly it has an awful lot of steps.”

  This was not enough for Anna, however, who insisted they find things to be irritated by as they made their way to Mollands.

  The confectionary shop was quickly becoming a favourite place for Cassandra, smelling as it did of chocolate, coffee and icing sugar. There were a few tables free, and in silent agreement, the two ladies chose one closest to the window before briefly being diverted by the range of cakes and treats on display. Eventually they ordered the same thing, feeling that their similarity in taste was indicative of the strength of their fledgeling friendship.

  Anna, however, was not about to allow Cassandra to avoid answering her question about things that caused her some irritation. By the time their refreshments – naturally consisting of the famous marchpane coupled with cups of steaming chocolate – arrived, Cassandra had been forced to admit that she was heartily bored of the restrictions being an unmarried woman placed on her, and the disapproving looks she sometimes got from the matchmaking mamas of young debutantes.

  “Even Lady Seraphinia warned me that I should perhaps not laugh so loud in the Pump Rooms,” she complained, “and she commented that I needed to update my wardrobe. Lady Seraphinia, of all people. The woman who still wears robe d’anglais in painted silk and a leghorn hat over her grey hair.”

  “She is an eccentric,” conceded Anna, “but believe me when I say that her meddling is evidence of her favour. She has plans for you, I think.”

  “Good grief, I hope not,” replied Cassandra, seriously alarmed at the idea. “I don’t know how Miss Lindon manages her!”

  “Probably the same way you manage your brother,” smiled Anna, without a trace of malice in her words. “Poor Arthur was flummoxed by Mr Scott! He hasn’t the slightest interest in his brother’s historical pursuits, you know, but he’ll most certainly come through and introduce Lexborough to your family.”

  “You can have no idea how happy that will make Ferdy. He’s accepted that travel and actual excavation are beyond him now, but that hasn’t dulled his interest in the antiquaries! I’d asked His Grace, Devenish, if he’d introduce us to His Grace, Lexborough…” she paused for a moment. “Lord, what a mouthful! How do you refer to two Dukes in the same sentence? Their Graces? His Grace and His Grace?”

  Anna blinked. “Do you realise that I have absolutely no idea; I hardly thought I would be acquainted with one Duke, let alone two! We’d better ask Arthur when he arrives, or else betray ourselves as bumpkins before the better born.”

  “Is it true that the two of you are engaged?” asked Cassandra before taking a bite of her marchpane. The taste of almonds filled her mouth, and it was all she could do not to moan with pleasure.

  Anna went pink in the cheeks. “Not quite! We’re courting, I suppose, and it’s become a game for Arthur to see how outlandish a proposal he can make. Were you here when all those minstrels played in Sydney Gardens?”

  “That was for you?” gasped Cassandra. “You could hear them playing in the whole of Bath! How romantic of him; surely you accepted his proposal after that?”

  “No,” admitted Anna, looking sheepish. “Mother says that I’ve waited long enough, especially since we spent Christmastide with the Lexboroughs, but I’m afraid that he might stop making such romantic gestures if I say yes.”

  Cassie reflected on her brief acquaintance with Lord Arthur, and the story Devenish had told her about the confiscated parrots.

  “I don’t think Lord Arthur would be capable of stopping such activities,” she said with perfect truth. “I did hear Devenish threaten to horsewhip him if something happened to a horse called Spartacus, though, so perhaps you might want to put an end to his hijinks?”

  The soft look on Anna’s face indicated that she’d never want to prevent Lord Arthur from doing anything he wished, no matter how scandalous.

  Cassie felt a pang in her chest. That Lord Arthur Weatherly and Anna Clyde were desperately in love was hardly a secret in Bath, and she’d heard from Lacey that there were betting books running to predict the day they would finally become engaged. She wondered what it felt like, to be so in love with someone that the world was dimmer whenever they were gone.

  Her thoughts turned to Devenish, and she wondered if he’d ever experienced a love like that, or even believed it existed. The Duke did not strike her as someone who would put up with parrots, minstrels and midnight serenades, even from the keeper of his heart.

  “Now who are you thinking about to make you smile like that?” asked Anna.

  Cassandra pulled a face. “I wasn’t thinking about anyone in particular, why would you think that?”

  “Because in my experience, people only smile to themselves in that way when thinking about someone dear to them.”

  “Then I must be your exception, I’m afraid. I’ve never felt anything close to love, despite my best efforts. I tried very hard to fall head over heels with Lord Terence when he was staying with Lady Climping, because all the other girls swore he was every inch the perfect man.”

  “Did it work?”

  She gave a heavy sigh. “I could not get past the way he ate soup, and his being a Baron worth five thousand a year did nothing to lessen how repugnant I found his slurping.”

  Anna pressed a hand to her mouth, as though she was trying to stop herself from giggling.

  “Was that his only defect in your estimation?” she asked when she was suitably composed.

  Cassandra gave a sad shake of her head. “He treated his horses abominably, you know, and tended to laugh a great deal at his own jokes. Oh, and although I will own that he was handsome enough at the correct ang
le, he had an awful habit of sneering at everyone he disliked. Unfortunately, he disliked Ferdy a great deal, and his remarks about invalids were enough to make anyone of good conscience wish to box his ears.”

  “Then why on earth did you try to fall in love with him?”

  Asked Anna, looking bewildered.

  “Did you not hear? He was a Baron worth five thousand a year.”

  Anna, who had made the mistake of taking a bite of her marchpane just as Cassandra answered, laughed so hard she choked on the mouthful of sweet. Springing to action, Cassie thumped her new friend hard on the back, causing the poor woman to splutter out half-chewed cake onto her plate.

  “Cassie… I should kill you!” Anna said, her voice hoarse. She swallowed a few mouthfuls from her cup of chocolate, her cheeks flushed with embarrassment.

  “I’m sure no one noticed,” lied Cassandra as she pretended none of the other customers were watching them, or that one of the Molland’s staff was approaching their table with a cloth and a disapproving stare. “Shall we make our way back to the Pump Room?”

  “Immediately!” said Anne, looking torn between horror and laughter. “Oh dear, adding this to the incident with Governess, and it will be a miracle if I’m ever allowed in a confectioner’s again!”

  Cassandra, who had already had the dubious pleasure of meeting the ugly pug that belonged to Anna’s stepdaughter, winced.

  “Let’s hope they forget it was us,” she said in a loud whisper, before the two of them hurried out of the shop.

  By the time they had passed Northumberland Place the whole incident seemed rather funny, and had solidified their friendship in a way nothing else could have. They continued their walk in the best of moods with each other, and re-entered the Pump Room with such an air of mischief about them, that no one present could have said they made anything but the most delightful of pictures.

  “Now what can have occurred to bring such colour to your cheeks, my dear Miss Scott?” said Devenish , intercepting her moments after Lord Arthur had claimed Anna’s attention. “Shall we promenade about the room together, or are you heartily sick of walking?”