The Devilish Duke: Book eight in the Regency Romps Series

by Elizabeth Bramwell

  “You credit me with more kindness than I deserve, my dear girl,” he said, with a sigh. “I’m not so selfless! I find that, given the choice, my heart would rather be with you.”

  She gave an appreciative chuckle. “Careful, Your Grace, or I’ll start to believe you want more from me than friendship.”

  It was a moment before he could trust himself to speak. It seemed he could not keep his silent war from his face, for Cassie’s expression changed from teasing to genuine concern.

  “Devenish? Is everything well with you?” she asked, her eyes so full of honest friendship that he had to glance away. She placed her bare, cold fingers to his cheek, and time froze as he tried to remember a time anyone other than a family member had shown him such a simple show of affection.

  “Cassie – Miss Scott, I mean. I…” he began, his heart jumping to speak before his rational brain had a chance to silence it.

  “Perhaps you need to sit down,” said Cassie, her brow furrowing. “I do hope you have not contracted a fever; dreadful things, you know. I almost lost Ferdy to one last August, and I know they are not to be taken lightly. Should I send for Lacey? He was only going to visit another Doctor, so I’m sure he won’t mind being interrupted.”

  He caught her hand as she went to move it to his forehead.

  “I promise you that I’m perfectly well, my dear, it’s just that I wish to ask you something rather important,” he said.

  “I see,” she replied, although her expression made it clear that she had not the slightest clue what he was talking about. “What is it, then?”

  Before he could speak, however, Devenish had been distracted by the sight of a familiar red carriage being drawn by two of the most splendid horses it had even been his privilege to handle. The dashing young Lady handling the ribbons, dressed in a magnificent pelisse that matched her phaeton, was a sight so unexpected that he did not know how to feel about, nor about the well-dressed gentleman at her side.

  Cassandra turned her head to see what he was staring at.

  “How beautiful!” she exclaimed with real appreciation. “I can hardly imagine driving about in such a magnificent get up – Ferdy will be in a jealous rage when I tell him about it. Do you know the driver? I think she might know you, you see.”

  He could not answer, for his eyes had locked with the driver, whose mouth had fallen open into a delicate ‘o’ as she took in the sight of Devenish standing on the middle of a Bath street, far too close to a bedraggled young woman whose bare fingers was still clasped in his own.

  Without thinking, he stepped back from Cassandra and released her hand.

  “I know her very well,” he said as the red phaeton tooled on past them without slowing down so much as a wit. His gaze followed the back of the driver, the ostrich plume bouncing at the side of her beaver hat. “Lady Henrietta Cottingham, and what the devil she’s doing here is anyone’s guess.”

  CHAPTER SEVEN

  Bayley’s confectionary shop was located at number 81 Milsom Street, so at the opposite end of that thoroughfare than Molland’s. As neither Mrs Clyde nor Cassandra felt inclined to eat marchpane again any time soon, they had both chosen French pastries to eat, accompanied by their cups of chocolate. Lord Arthur, who had found the story of their mishap hilarious, tucked into large serving of marchpane, washing it down with some coffee.

  “I wouldn’t worry too much, Cassie,” said Anna after considering the tale she’d just been told. “I’ve always found His Grace to be on the reserved side, and it’s very difficult to tell if you’ve offended him, or if he’s merely bored.”

  “Nonsense, it’s easy to tell when Devenish is bored,” said Lord Arthur. “He either yawns, or just wanders off mid conversation.”

  “He does not, surely,” said Cassandra, unable to contain her disbelief.

  “He jolly well does, part of why he’s considered devilish,” said Lord Arthur. “Of course he’s allowed to get away with it, what with his being a Duke and all. My brother isn’t much better when you think about it, although Kate – that’s his wife, the Duchess – keeps his worst tendencies in check. My father was the same, come to think of it. As for the Royal Dukes; well they’re nothing but a bunch of loose screws, and that’s the polite way of putting it!”

  Anna and Cassandra shared a look.

  “Are you saying that it’s normal for Dukes to be… rude?” said Cassandra as gently as possible.

  Lord Arthur gave an enthusiastic nod, his mouth full of cake preventing him from speaking.

  “The more I learn, the more glad I become that I was raised in the way that I was,” said Anna with a shake of her head.

  “It’s not all that bad,” said Lord Arthur after swallowing. “Well, Alex is, but then I’m biased against him.”

  Cassandra pushed a piece of her cake about the plate with her fork. “I’m so out of my depth when it comes to the Ton.”

  “Arthur will help you,” promised Anna. “Won’t you, Arthur?”

  “Anything for you, light of my heart,” he replied, real affection in his gaze as he looked upon Anna. “Will you marry me?”

  “When you propose properly,” she retorted. “But this isn’t about us, it’s about Cassie. I’m all at sea when it comes to the Ton as well you know, so you may as well include her in our lessons.”

  Lord Arthur gave a dramatic sigh, and turned a pair of imploring eyes onto Cassandra.

  “Do you see what she puts me through? I shall stand your champion, Miss Scott, but I beg of you to intercede with your friend on my behalf. Tell her I will grant her anything her heart desires if only she will accept my hand!”

  “I will do so,” she said solemnly, although it was difficult not to laugh in Lord Arthur’s company. He had such a ridiculous joi de vivre about him that appealed to her own natural state of happiness.

  “Not a monkey,” said Anna, her tone hard and serious. “If he tries to bribe my mother again, tell him that I-”

  “How was I to know that Governess would take the creature in such dislike?” said Lord Arthur, looking wounded. “Besides, your father is exaggerating about the damage done to his breeches during the altercation. There were only three tears, not seventeen.”

  Cassie giggled. “I should have dearly loved to witness that.”

  “You dearly would not have,” said Anna with a shudder. “If anything was to convince me that perhaps Lord Arthur and I will not suit, it was that terror of a monkey!”

  “We are not here to discuss our future, my love,” said Lord Arthur with great dignity. “We are here to help Miss Scott with her problem. Now, my dear, tell me everything.”

  Now faced with the opportunity to seek advice, Cassandra found that she was not sure how, precisely, to voice her concerns.

  “I am just not sure if I have offended His Grace,” she eventually settled on. “We still have an invitation to attend the Duchess’ soiree tomorrow, but they have been absent from the Pump Room, and he has not called. Her Grace did drop a quick note to Ferdy to thank him for recommending a new shoemaker to her, but beyond that, nothing.”

  “How long?”

  “Three days,” she replied. “I know that does not sound very long, but before this we had seen Devenish almost every day.”

  Anna and Lord Arthur shared a look.

  “Did you quarrel?” asked her friend while Lord Arthur took a sip of coffee.

  “No… Yes… oh I don’t even know any more!” said Cassandra, dropping her fork to her plate in defeat. “We had that silly disagreement over the Fitzburghs, and then I accidentally offended him again after he offered to introduce me to his friends.”

  “Who?” asked Lord Arthur.

  Cassandra frowned. “I hardly remember… a Lady Loughcroft, I think. Maybe Gloucester?”

  Lord Arthur gave a thoughtful nod. “You’d like them. Especially Abby! Flew in a balloon once, although we’re not supposed to talk about it.”

  “But it hardly matters for we had become friends again, and then afte
r he kissed me, we-”

  “He kissed you?” squealed Anna and Lord Arthur in unison. Cassandra winced, pointedly looking about them to remind the couple they were in public.

  “Not that sort of kiss,” she explained. “It was no different to the first time, in that he was just making fun of me.”

  Anna stared at her, wide eyed and silent. Lord Arthur tugged at his neckcloth and cleared his throat several times.

  “Um, the thing is, Miss Scott… well… men like Devenish don’t go about kissing girls for sport.”

  She stared at him blankly before realization dawned. “Oh, it was nothing like that, I assure you! He didn’t suggest anything improper, and was otherwise a perfect gentleman. Besides, he can hardly compromise me in the street.”

  Lord Arthur went bright red and started coughing again. Anna glanced about them, making sure that no one was listening in on their conversation before she started to speak in a hushed tone.

  “Cassie, you don’t understand. Arthur is trying to tell you that His Grace would never kiss you unless he was serious in his attentions.”

  Cassandra made a rude noise. “Don’t be ridiculous – the first time he’d only just met me, and we’d quarreled almost the entire time.”

  “Heaven help me,” moaned Lord Arthur, suddenly looking as though he wished he was anywhere but in the confectioner’s.

  She frowned, the seriousness of their suggestions finally starting to take root in her psyche. She leant forward over the table, dropping her voice to a mere whisper. “Do you… do you mean to tell me that Devenish… His Grace, the Duke of Devenish… might be… might be courting me?”

  “I’ll introduce you to Kate, she’ll help you with the ways of being a Duchess,” said Lord Arthur with an encouraging smile.

  Cassandra sat back, unable to decide what to do with her hands. Her mind was filled with an odd buzzing that sounded awfully like the word Devenish being repeated over and over, and in the process it robbed her of the power to think.

  Anna and Lord Arthur consumed their cakes and drinks in silence, as though they were both aware of the space she needed to digest this impossible, incredible, ridiculous and wonderful piece of news.

  Wonderful.

  Her brain latched on to that one word, and she let out a silly, girlish giggle.

  “He’s courting me,” she whispered, looking at her friend.

  Anna grinned back. “As an expert in that topic, I feel that he may well be doing so.”

  Cassandra indulged the wonderful thought for almost twenty seconds before reality set in, and the happiness drained from her heart.

  “No, no we must be mistaken. He has not declared himself in any way.”

  “He kissed you twice,” spluttered Lord Arthur, as though no further clarification was needed.

  “Jests, I am sure of it,” lied Cassandra. “Besides, it’s not that. Not really. You see, he knows I would never leave Ferdy’s side, and I cannot see him abandoning the Duchess, either. Can you?”

  “Miss Scott, Cassie, Devenish is possibly the fourth richest man in England,” said Lord Arthur. “Taking care of his loved ones, or the loved ones of his wife, would hardly be an effort.”

  “That’s not what I mean,” sighed Cassandra. “It’s difficult to explain unless you are living it, but Ferdy comes first for me, and always has. His illness, and his resulting temper may seem like a burden, but they are nothing for me compared to what he has to carry. How could I abandon him, or even relegate him to second, or even third place in my heart?”

  “You are a very good sister,” said Anna quietly.

  Cassandra shook her head. “Not in the least. If marrying Lord Arthur meant that Lily would suffer in some way, even if she was perfectly willing to do so to secure your happiness, would you allow him to court you?”

  Anna hesitated, and there was real pain in her eyes as she locked her gaze with the man she loved.

  “No. I would never abandon Lily.”

  “I’d never ask you to,” replied Lord Arthur, and he reached over to grasp her hand.

  Cassandra had never before wished to be wrong. “So you see, even if you are correct and the Duke does have feelings for me, he would never consider marriage.”

  Lord Arthur, however, refused to be convinced. “I don’t pretend to be one of the Duke’s cronies, my dear, but any man who publicly threatens to horsewhip me must be considered a friend. You should give him a chance to lay his case and his heart before you. Perhaps he has answers you have not considered; the man has a monstrous intellect.”

  “That’s very true,” said Cassandra, something like hope flickering in her chest. “But why would he stay away from me for so long if that’s the case?”

  “Perhaps he believes you indifferent to his suit, and is away nursing a broken heart,” said Lord Arthur. He considered his words for a moment, and then shook his head. “No, that’s not his style. I mean, he did leave London after Lady Henrietta chose to marry Cottingham, but that may have been coincidental.”

  “Who married who?” said Cassandra, her heart thundering in her chest.

  Lord Arthur hesitated, evidently concerned by her reaction to his words. “Lady Cottingham. She was Lady Henrietta Cartwright back then, and there were bets on when Devenish would make her his bride. Not that he did, obviously, for she chose to marry James Douglas, the Baron Cottingham, instead.”

  The name Douglas seemed familiar, but it barely registered with her conscience before the words of Lady Fitzburgh came back to her, and the significance of Devenish’s reaction to the woman he’d seen on the street hit her like a basket of bricks.

  “Lady Cottingham… does she drive a cherry red carriage? Happens to be very stylish, and very pretty to boot?” said Cassandra.

  Lord Arthur pulled at his cravat again, his eyes as wide as those of a startled rabbit. He made a kind of strangled noise.

  Anna blew out a huff of annoyance. “Don’t be ridiculous, Arthur. Answer Cassie.”

  “Yes,” he croaked out, and promptly picked up his coffee to take a noisy slurp of the liquid.

  “That’s the lady who passed us by,” said Cassandra, frowning down at the half-eaten cake on her plate. “When he saw her, he dropped my hand, then made his excuses to leave. That’s the last time I saw him.”

  “Perhaps it stirred unpleasant memories,” said Anna, although she didn’t sound convinced.

  Cassandra shook her head. There was the oddest sensation stirring in her chest, an anger that made no sense to her at all.

  “No, that wasn’t the reaction. Not at all,” she replied. She picked up her fork and stabbed, hard at the cake, skewering it with a single motion that made Lord Arthur jump.

  There was silence between them for several minutes.

  “Cassie?” said Anna in the tone of voice one might use when trying to calm a cornered wild cat. “Cassie, what are you going to do?”

  “The only thing I can think of,” she replied after chewing up the cake with more vigour than necessary. “Do you know of someone who could cut my hair a la victim?”

  Anna smiled, but Lord Arthur positively beamed.

  “That’s the spirit, Cassie! And while we’re at it, there’s a dressmaker you need to visit at once.”

  *

  “I’m sorry to have missed Devenish,” said Lady Henrietta Cottingham as she sat on the sofa opposite Emily, throwing a look over to her husband in the process. “I saw him a few days ago, but we have not had the opportunity to speak.”

  “He left his card,” added Lord Cottingham, “but we were out at the time. My brother, you know. He’s in Bath, so we came down to meet him and… and his friend, Monsieur Gautereau. From Montreal.”

  Emily smiled at the both.

  “You do not owe me an explanation for your presence in Bath, my dears,” she said, although she was secretly very interested to learn that Cottingham’s younger brother had made the long trip back from Canada so much sooner than expected. “It is a delight to see you both. I hav
e missed the Literary Gatherings, you know, and I am sure Beatrix will be over the moon to see you.”

  This drew a smile from Henrietta. “I had hoped to keep our presence in Bath a secret, if the truth be known, but I could not resist calling to see her!”

  “Driving your carriage through the streets of Bath was not the best idea if you had hoped to remain unknown,” said Emily, not unkindly.

  Henrietta blushed, which only served to enhance her beauty, while her husband was looked rather handsome with his lazy grin.

  “Precisely what I told her, Your Grace! There was no need for her to come at all, you know, but she insisted on it. It took all my powers of persuasion to convince her to leave the baby at home, or else she’d have brought the entire household.”

  “Hart will be fine with your mother for a few days,” Henrietta replied, glaring at Cottingham, “but as this concerns my family far more than yours, of course I was going to come!”

  Cottingham coughed, and pointedly looked at Emily. Henrietta went a deeper shade of crimson, and looked down at her hands.

  How curious, thought Emily. A mystery involving the Cartwrights!

  She longed to dig for more information, but had more pressing concerns of her own to deal with.

  Like Devenish.

  “My son had to return to London unexpectedly,” she told her young guests. “A business matter I believe, but he will be home late this evening.”

  “Please let him know I called,” said Henrietta. The use of ‘I’ was not lost on the Duchess.

  “I can do one better,” she replied. “I have a few friends coming to a small soiree; why don’t the two of you attend? I would love to see your brother again, Cottingham, and naturally his friend, Monsieur Gautereau, is invited as well.”

  “We cannot possibly put you to the trouble of adding four guests,” said Henrietta.

  “That’s very kind, we would love to attend,” said Cottingham in the same moment.