Redemption of the Duke

by Gayle Callen

But he couldn’t have her.

  After spending the morning on Lady Duncan’s correspondence, Faith was thrilled to retreat outside to the gardens surrounding Rothford Court. Lady Duncan sat in the shade, reading a book, while Faith weeded, talked to the gardener, and simply enjoyed the cool but lovely day. It was too early in the year for flowers outdoors, but oh, things were beginning to bud.

  She let relaxation wash over her, and tried to forget her encounter in another garden with the Duke of Rothford. She had to trust in his self-control, because this position was perfect for her. She felt needed by Lady Duncan.

  Why he’d touched her hair—why he’d changed things between them, she didn’t want to know.

  Lady Sophia joined them, along with her niece. Frances remained skittish on nearing Faith, as if waiting for Faith to reveal her night outing. Faith simply smiled at her and handed her a little shovel.

  “Would you like to help weed?”

  Frances spotted the gardener, then gave Faith a strange look, but at last, she let Faith show her the difference between weeds and spring greenery. Lady Sophia sat quietly and talked to her aunt.

  After about twenty minutes of following Faith’s example, Frances hesitantly said, “What’s wrong with your gown?”

  “Did I get dirt on it?” Faith asked with a laugh.

  “No, it’s wrinkled and looks too big on you.”

  Faith looked around dramatically and lowered her voice. “Please don’t tell, but my maid is new to her position, and she’s still learning. I don’t want to hurt her feelings.”

  “My mother wouldn’t stand for that.”

  “But your mother is a great lady. I am not.”

  “I asked Aunt Sophia, and she said we must not hurt the feelings of someone less fortunate than ourselves, that not everyone can afford fine new gowns.”

  Faith hid a smile. “That’s very true. Surely in London or the countryside, you’ve seen many different kinds of women in many different gowns.”

  Frances nodded seriously. “Are your feelings hurt?”

  “Not at all!” Faith said, smiling, even as she touched the girl’s shoulder. “You are only asking honest questions.”

  “Is . . . is your maid inexperienced at styling hair, too?”

  Faith laughed aloud, and finally, Frances gave her a timid smile in return.

  After a while, she let the girl continue on without her, and went inside to fetch some lemonade and iced cakes to refresh the ladies. Frances had some, then was soon back on her knees in the dirt.

  Faith winced and glanced at Lady Sophia. “Will her mother mind a little dirt?”

  “She might, but I brought her to the gardens, so please do not worry about it. You two were having an intense conversation.”

  “Well . . . Lady Frances is worried about my unskilled maid.” She gestured to her gown.

  “And I understand her concern. Ellen has been with us for over three years. I never would have thought—”

  “Please, Lady Sophia, do not worry about it. I am handling it, even though it might not look it.”

  “If you will not let me speak to her or Mrs. Morton, then let me offer another suggestion that will help. I want you to have some of my gowns.”

  Faith inhaled and frowned. “Oh, no, Lady Sophia, I could not possibly—”

  “They are my older gowns, if that makes you feel better. My mother would probably resent me parting with newer ones.”

  She shared a smile with Lady Duncan, but Faith could not feel light.

  “Lady Sophia, I am employed in your home. It would not be seemly to—”

  “I want to.” The young woman reached out and touched her hand. “And before you assume something negative, I have not been embarrassed, nor has anyone in the household mentioned it to me. I am simply so fortunate to have a wonderful brother who forces me to spend far more on myself than I normally would.”

  “Forces?” Faith said skeptically.

  Lady Duncan chuckled. “As if I have to drag her to the dressmaker all the time.”

  Faith glanced at Lady Duncan. “Are you certain this would be proper to accept such a gift?”

  “It would please me to see you in nicer clothes, Faith. You are a pretty young woman—you don’t need to hide it.”

  Yes, I do, Faith thought, remembering the moonlit conservatory, and how her heart had pounded in her rib cage when the duke had simply touched her cheek. There was something wrong with her that she was so easily swayed by men.

  Soon Frances’s governess came to take her away for her lessons. Faith expected the other ladies to grow tired of the garden, but they didn’t move. Lady Sophia seemed pensive, and Lady Duncan appeared to be waiting for whatever her niece needed to say.

  When Lady Sophia said nothing, Lady Duncan at last lifted her monocle and looked through it at the young woman. “You did not seem pleased to see Mr. Percy yesterday.”

  Two splotches of red appeared on Lady Sophia’s cheeks, but she said nothing.

  “He is a young man very conscious of his place in Society,” Lady Duncan continued gently. “You are a young woman who doesn’t believe such things matter, because at your station, you’ve never had to face that dilemma.”

  “He is a gentleman, son of a gentleman,” Lady Sophia burst out heatedly.

  Faith was rather shocked at the emotion hiding beneath the woman’s calm, friendly exterior.

  Lady Sophia gave her an apologetic glance. “Do forgive me, but . . . I find his attitude and behavior so frustrating. I do not care that he is a vicar, but he certainly does.”

  “And he’s right to care, my dear. He is not the sort of man your mother expects you to marry.”

  “I thought things would be different when Adam returned—he won’t force me to marry against my wishes.”

  Faith was too curious about what the duke might do.

  “No one will force you into anything,” the elderly woman chided. “Even your mother. Your brother is concerned for your happiness, not what property a potential groom brings to the union. You are blessed in that regard, because most men feel otherwise.”

  “I know!” Lady Sophia said, slamming her fist down on her thigh. “And Mr. Percy is one of those! It is so infuriating!”

  “You have discussed marriage?” Lady Duncan said, obviously surprised.

  “He will not, of course. He is too proud for that. But he has made it clear that he feels himself beneath me, and will not pursue anything more than friendship. Are my wishes so unimportant?”

  Lady Sophia turned imploring eyes on Faith, who was surprised to be included in this family conversation.

  “Of course your wishes are important,” Faith began cautiously, “but if he has strong opinions and beliefs, it might be difficult to alter them.”

  “But not impossible?” Lady Sophia said with hope.

  Faith gave Lady Duncan an imploring glance, but her employer only gestured with her hand.

  “I do not know, my lady,” Faith finally said. “Are not men like us in many ways? Some men can be reasoned with and others will always hold firm to their first convictions.”

  Lady Sophia sat silently for several minutes, sipping her tea. “Very well, I will hope that Mr. Percy can be reasoned with.”

  “Do you plan to persuade the man to ask for your hand in marriage?” Lady Duncan asked, one eyebrow climbing toward her turban.

  “No, not at all. But I will make him see that he cannot do without me.”

  “And how can you make that happen?” Faith asked, trying to hide her skepticism. “Because if he does not call on you . . .”

  “Oh, he doesn’t need to call upon me. We see each other often enough when he is in town. And next time, he will see me showing my interest in another man. Perhaps jealousy will combat his ridiculous clas
s-consciousness.”

  “And what about the man you falsely flatter?” Lady Duncan said, frowning. “You have not given that enough thought.”

  “Oh, don’t worry, I will talk to Lord Shenstone about it. We understand each other well. He will go along with me in the ruse.”

  Faith did not think it all a good idea to court another man in public, especially not someone as jaded as Lord Shenstone seemed to be, but it was not her place to judge Lady Sophia. She’d never judge anybody.

  She waited for Lady Duncan to object, but the older woman simply cocked her head and spoke mildly. “Give this deep thought, my dear. You don’t want to do something that might hurt your family—or yourself.”

  “I certainly won’t hurt anyone,” Lady Sophia insisted. “And why would I hurt my brother, newly returned from a situation he won’t even discuss with me?”

  And it was obvious who was hurting in that sibling relationship.

  The young woman again turned to Faith. “Your brother was in the army. Did he talk to you about it?”

  Faith was surprised as sadness and frustration warred inside her. Lady Duncan’s eyes went wide with sudden sympathy, even as Lady Sophia gasped.

  “Oh, my dear Miss Cooper, I cannot believe I asked that of you. Do forgive me.”

  “Please, there’s nothing to forgive. It was an honest question. But in truth, my brother and I weren’t close, and his letters from India were infrequent at best. So no, he did not discuss anything important with me.”

  “But if he’d have come home to you, he might have.”

  “I don’t believe so, but then again, my brother is nothing like yours. He did not care about my opinion. But I do know that some men will not bring up tragic memories for fear of hurting the ones they love.”

  “I know. I tell myself that, but . . . I believe he’s hurting himself keeping it all bottled inside.”

  And there was nothing to say to that. Faith knew his secrets, knew his guilt, knew why he didn’t speak of it. It was strange to know more about the man than his own sister.

  She knew too much about the Duke of Rothford. She hoped it wouldn’t put a strain on her relationship with the rest of his family.

  Chapter 10

  Two nights later, the duchess hosted her first dinner party since Faith’s arrival, and Faith was forced to wear a gown of Lady Sophia’s, since the young woman had already gone to the trouble of having several quickly altered by her dressmaker.

  Faith stared at herself in the full-length mirror in her room and felt far too revealed. Oh, the top of the bodice was a decent height, and the peacock-blue damask was modest, but it had been more than a year since she’d allowed herself to be so . . . displayed. She’d gotten used to the layers of petticoats that hid her waist, the old-fashioned cut and bulk of extra material like armor. Lady Sophia’s “old” gowns were simply from a season or two ago, and they hugged the newer, lighter corset she insisted Faith use. The young woman had been so delighted with the effect, even had her own lady’s maid style Faith’s hair as a learning moment for Ellen, but Faith could not rejoice.

  She didn’t want the duke to look at her, to wonder if she was displaying herself for him after the way he’d touched her. She’d been avoiding him, and she sensed with relief that he was doing the same.

  At last, she could delay no longer and made her appearance in the drawing room to await their dinner guests. Lady Sophia clapped her hands together upon seeing Faith, who would have gladly shrunk back out the door at drawing notice.

  “Oh, do come here, Miss Cooper!” Lady Sophia cried. “I knew that gown would look wonderful on you.”

  The duchess glanced at Faith briefly, then looked away again with her usual bland indifference. Faith couldn’t even be offended; the woman treated everyone but her children the same way.

  “You know Frances would love to see you arrayed so prettily,” Lady Sophia continued. “You really should run up to the nursery.”

  “Excuse me?” Lady Tunbridge said coldly, eyeing Faith. “My daughter is not to be disturbed so late in the evening because of a companion’s fancy. She needs to learn to treat servants with the polite and appropriate distance.”

  “Faith is not a servant, Marian,” Lady Duncan stressed with exasperation. “And it wasn’t her idea, was it?”

  Faith wished she could step right back out of the room. She didn’t like calling attention to herself. She hovered in the doorway, wondering how she could get out of the evening, almost wishing she were back at the Warburtons washing Adelia’s underthings.

  “Good evening, ladies,” said the duke, right behind her.

  She froze, glancing back over her shoulder. He was too close, so tall and broad, and she felt overly exposed with her fashionable gown. His arrogance might let him think she’d dressed up for him. If he looked over her shoulder, could he see down her—

  She quickly stepped to the side to allow him entrance, and although he gave her a second glance, all he did was nod in passing and greet his mother with a kiss on the cheek.

  Faith let out a shaky breath and wished for a corner to hide in. But the guests started arriving as if on cue, including Lord Shenstone. She saw Lady Sophia sizing him up, preparing to propose her scandalous attempt to make Mr. Percy jealous. The young woman was only distracted by the arrival of her friend, Lady Emmeline.

  The dinner went well, and the men seated on either side of Faith treated her much more respectfully than at the last party she’d attended in her dowdy clothes. Though the duchess had made certain all knew she was Lady Duncan’s companion, they still conversed with polite interest, and she tried to relax.

  The duke glanced her way once or twice, but he seemed a master at portraying indifference. And perhaps it was indifference. She’d made it clear he was to keep away from her—maybe he was unused to such rejection and was now dismissive of her. It was as it should be. But her stomach was tight with nerves and even disappointment, which made her terribly disappointed in herself.

  When the gentlemen joined the ladies in the drawing room after dinner, she was sitting near Lady Duncan and her friends, safely out of the way. She was able to watch Lady Sophia move easily through the men, bantering, laughing, and all of it without seeming like a flirt. She had a gift for putting people at ease that Faith admired. Lady Emmeline, aided by the duchess, remained within Rothford’s circle, lovely in pink silk, looking upon him with an expression of happiness, if not outright worship.

  But there was one gentleman, Lord Fillingham, who even Lady Sophia had a difficult time enjoying. He drank to excess, commented too loudly on subjects he should not, and began to pester the duke about how the army had improved his fencing.

  “Shenstone says you quite defeat him every time,” Lord Fillingham said, his dark hair falling over his forehead untidily. “I can understand that, of course, being that Shenstone does not have a high degree of skill.”

  Lord Shenstone was talking with Lady Sophia, but he heard this and looked over her head. “Fillingham, you and I have never had the pleasure of fencing,” he said with faint sarcasm. “How disappointed I am that you are so quick to judge.”

  Lord Fillingham ignored him. “Come, Rothford, tell us of your prowess with the sword.”

  “I am a cavalryman, Fillingham,” the duke said coolly. “I need not explain my skill. But perhaps it’s time to call for your carriage.”

  People were looking at them both, whispering together in low voices.

  “My carriage?” Lord Fillingham said, gesturing widely. “Why, the night is young, is it not? I think you want to distract all your guests from my challenge.”

  “There’s a challenge in there somewhere?” Rothford asked, his lips quirked in a smile that never touched his eyes.

  Faith saw Lady Duncan stand up, bracing herself on her cane as if to march toward her nephew’s adversar
y. Faith hurried to her side.

  “My lady, perhaps you should let the duke handle this,” she said in a low voice.

  “Yes,” Lord Fillingham said, rounding on her, “let’s let the duke handle this.” Over his shoulder, he said, “I’m challenging you to practice your skills on me, Your Grace.”

  But he kept looking at Faith, which she found confusing and embarrassing.

  “Then come to my fencing academy tomorrow. We have all the equipment we’ll need, and all the space to exercise, will we not?”

  “No, not tomorrow, tonight. Do you not agree that it would liven up a dull dinner, Miss—what is your name again?”

  She took a deep breath. “Miss Cooper.”

  “Of the barrel-making Coopers?” he asked, laughing at his own joke.

  She heard Lady Duncan draw in an angry breath, but Faith put a hand on her arm.

  “My ancestors probably did make barrels, my lord. And they bettered themselves to become gentlemen. So I have deep pride in my name.”

  And suddenly the duke was there, standing between her and Lord Fillingham as if the man had threatened her with bodily injury instead of attempting an insult.

  “Very well, I accept the challenge,” he said, mixing both affability and steel beneath his words. “Let’s roll back the carpets and delight our audience.”

  She opened her mouth to stop him, but suddenly realized she had no authority to do so and should certainly not call any more attention to the fact that he’d been offended on her behalf. It was a minor slight—he should have ignored it. Now he had the members of his family frowning their bewilderment at him, and Lady Sophia glanced at Faith in confusion.

  The other male guests started talking in happy tones as they stripped off their coats to move furniture and roll back carpets. The duke returned from somewhere with a set of blades, which he held out to Lord Fillingham.

  “Your choice, sir, even though you challenged me.”

  “And I’ll take you up on that, Rothford.” He chose one and slashed it through the air, making Lord Shenstone step back. “Ah, the safety tip already buttoned on. You’re taking no chances.”