The Duke of Daring (The Untouchables Book 2)

by Darcy Burke

  Which was fine with Lucy. Aquilla, however, wanted a husband.

  “I’m sure it will be a valuable tool in your husband hunt,” Lucy said. “How are things progressing?”

  They corresponded nearly every day, but Aquilla hadn’t said much on that front.

  She gazed out the window and sighed. “Dismal, I’m afraid.”

  “You told me last week that you’d had invitations to dance.”

  “Yes, but they never lead to anything else. I think they’re just favors to Lady Satterfield or the Duchess of Kendal. That and they want to ask me if I know the Forbidden Duke and Duchess.” She rolled her eyes. “Can you believe that nonsense?”

  Lucy chuckled. “Yes. We were in awe of Nora when we first met her, if you’ll recall.” Nora was the Duchess of Kendal, who was also known as the Forbidden Duchess. The nickname came from her husband who disdained most of Society in favor of his family and his dukedom. He’d cultivated a reputation for being detached and unapproachable—forbidden, as it were. Or, as Nora called him, he was an Untouchable. Like the Earl of Dartford.

  Aquilla giggled. “I suppose we were rather intimidated. I’d forgotten since I’ve become so comfortable.” Her gaze flicked down over Lucy’s costume. “You should come shopping with us. It’s been ever so long since you’ve had a new gown.”

  And it would likely be an eternity still. “I’m afraid I cannot.”

  Aquilla frowned. “Why not? We used to like to shop for ribbons and things.”

  That was true. They’d squandered many an afternoon that first year they’d met. Lucy smiled faintly at the memory. “I’m afraid there’s no money for me to do that. I’ll barely make it to the end of the Season, and then Grandmama is moving to Bath.”

  Aquilla’s eyes widened. “What happened? You’ve never mentioned this before.”

  “It’s a new development. There just simply isn’t any money. You know how deep in debt my father was when he died.”

  His entailed holdings, along with his baronetcy, had reverted to the crown, and they’d had to sell off everything they could. The bulk of the proceeds had settled his vowels, leaving just enough to live on these past seven years.

  Aquilla nodded sympathetically, her gaze stricken. Empathy was another of Aquilla’s strengths. “Bath isn’t terribly far. We can visit each other.”

  “Assuming I go to Bath with Grandmama. Right now there isn’t enough money to support us both. Grandmama is insisting I find a husband.”

  Blue eyes wide, Aquilla gaped at her. “But you don’t want a husband.”

  “No, I don’t.”

  Aquilla pressed her lips together. “Perhaps you should revise your opinion. There has to be a gentleman out there that you can tolerate. Not all men are like your father or your grandfather.”

  Selfish, dissolute men who’d led their lives without a whit of responsibility or a care for their wives or children. They’d both left their families in debt and, in Lucy’s case, with no prospects for her future, save what she could manage for herself. No, she wouldn’t put her faith in any man.

  For some reason, she thought of Dartford. Not because he was marriage material, but because she supposed she had put her faith in him. And so far, he hadn’t let her down. She reminded herself that their acquaintance was young. There was plenty of time for him to disappoint her in spectacular fashion.

  “Or like Caruthers,” Aquilla said softly.

  They hadn’t spoken of him in a very long time. A young buck, he’d paid Lucy attention during her first Season. He’d led her to believe he wanted to court her, and Lucy—naïve fool that she’d been at twenty—had thought she’d broken her mother’s and grandmother’s curse when it came to men. They’d shared dreams and chaste kisses, had talked of their future. And then he’d disappeared. A month later, she’d heard he’d eloped to Gretna Green with an heiress.

  He’d broken the curse, all right. He’d ensured Lucy wouldn’t take a husband at all.

  “Let’s not mention him,” Lucy said. “In hindsight, I should’ve packed Grandmama up back then and moved to Bath.” They could’ve saved a great deal of money if she’d avoided the past several Seasons. “Anyway, I’m not the one we should be focusing on. You’re the one who wants a husband, and with Lady Satterfield’s help, I daresay you’ll find one.”

  “I don’t know, but both she and Nora are so optimistic. I don’t want to disappoint them.”

  Lucy shook her head. “You mustn’t think of it like that. This is about you and your happiness, not theirs.” But how like Aquilla to think of them first. “I’m confident your new alliances will bear fruit. You just have to be patient.” Lucy knew how terrible that sounded. Aquilla had already been waiting five years. And she never complained.

  Determination lit Aquilla’s eyes. “You’re right. Nora says I’ll marry an Untouchable like she did. I’d be happy with a vicar or even a lawyer.”

  An Untouchable. Dartford’s handsome visage floated through her mind again. It was a shame he wasn’t interested in marriage. Lucy might have encouraged him to pursue Aquilla and vice versa. Inexplicably, a jolt of distaste sparked through her.

  Aquilla moved closer and spoke softly. “Tell me what you’re doing about your money situation.”

  Lucy couldn’t bring herself to speak the truth, not even to her dearest friend. But at the same time, she wanted to tell her about Dartford and about shooting at Manton’s. That was a memory that would make her smile for a long time, probably forever.

  “Will you trust me when I say that I have a plan and it’s coming along nicely?” She’d have the money she needed soon. Just a few more nights out with Dartford.

  Aquilla narrowed her eyes. “That sounds rather cryptic. Why the secrecy? You know you can tell me anything.”

  Yes, she did. For all that Aquilla liked to talk, she didn’t break confidences. Even so, Lucy didn’t want to tell her about it until she was finished. Maybe she was just being superstitious since she’d been quite lucky so far. “I know, and I shall. Soon. It’s…complicated.”

  Aquilla exhaled. “I’ll pretend I’m not insulted.”

  Lucy winced. “That is certainly not my intent. I’ll share everything with you soon, I promise.”

  A figure came toward them. It was Nora, the Duchess of Kendal. She smiled and greeted them both warmly.

  “How have you been, Lucy?” she asked. “I haven’t seen you since my mother-in-law’s ball.” She laughed. “Which isn’t surprising, since I rarely go out. I’m fortunate to see Aquilla when we come for dinner once a week, and of course, she’s been to Kendal House.”

  “We haven’t been out often either,” Lucy said. “My grandmother isn’t quite as spry this Season.”

  Nora nodded. “I understand. I daresay the same thing is happening to Lady Dunn. We haven’t seen her as much this Season, and she’s not here today. I shall have to pay a call.”

  “I’ll come with you,” Aquilla said. “I’d love to see her and Ivy.”

  Ivy Breckenridge was Lady Dunn’s companion and the final member of their spinster-wallflower trio. That reminded Lucy of something. “I’ve been thinking that we need our own name, like The Untouchables.”

  Aquilla’s eyes lit. “We do! Do you have something in mind?”

  “I do, but it might be too pretentious—The League of Invincibles. Because nothing keeps us down.”

  Nora grinned. “That’s not pretentious at all. It’s splendid.”

  “And accurate,” Aquilla agreed. “I’ll come up with a special handshake.”

  “May I be a member even though I’m married?” Nora asked.

  “Marriage has nothing to do with membership,” Lucy said. “Of course you can be a member.”

  “Excellent. And anyway, you won’t be unmarried for long. Aquilla’s Season is going swimmingly, and I have high hopes for Lady Colne’s ball tonight.” Nora looked at Lucy. “Your grandmother indicated that you wanted to go and has arranged for Lady Satterfield and Aquilla to pick you u
p.”

  Lucy wanted to groan. She did not want to go. Furthermore, they hadn’t been invited. Yet it seemed that Grandmama had neatly maneuvered an opportunity for Lucy to attend. She might be slowing down physically, but her acumen was as sharp as ever.

  Aquilla angled toward her. “It will be just like Seasons of old.” Her blue eyes sparkled with anticipation, and Lucy couldn’t help but be swept up in her enthusiasm. Just because she didn’t want a husband didn’t mean she couldn’t help her friend find one. Besides, she missed adorning the wall with Aquilla.

  “Yes, it will.” All of Lucy’s ball gowns were from last Season and the one before, but that wouldn’t matter, not when she would spend the evening in the shadows.

  The conversation turned to Nora’s two children, and soon Lucy’s grandmother was ready to leave. When they were settled in their small carriage, Lucy didn’t prevaricate. “I see you organized my evening for me.”

  Grandmama patted her hand. “Indeed I did. You can’t be expected to find a husband if you aren’t out. I spoke to Lady Satterfield about this at length. She will take you along with her and Miss Knox, since I am not able to keep up today.”

  It was even worse than just tonight. She’d organized Lucy’s entire Season. How was she to maintain her plan with Dartford if she was out with Lady Satterfield and Aquilla? “Thank you. But don’t be disappointed when I am still unwed at the end of the Season.”

  Grandmama pursed her lips. “My dear, I hope not. Your time is running out. It’s now or never, I’m afraid. You know what’s at stake.”

  Just their entire livelihood. They could live, but it would be a pale imitation of the life they currently enjoyed. It was going to be an adjustment, but one that Lucy was more than prepared to make.

  “I do,” Lucy said quietly. She wanted to tell her grandmother what she’d told Aquilla, that she was working on a solution. But she wouldn’t even say that much. Once she had the money in hand and could set the move to Bath in motion, she’d tell both of them that they needn’t worry.

  Her next appointment with Dartford couldn’t come soon enough. In the meantime, she’d suffer through tonight and do whatever she could to help her friend’s cause. Aquilla wanted a happily ever after, and she would have it.

  Lucy would settle for comfortable ever after.

  Chapter Five

  Andrew arrived at Lady Colne’s ball fairly early, but not too early. He was instantly besieged by those of his acquaintances who attended these sorts of events. And then he was assaulted by matchmaking mamas parading their daughters in front of him as if he were at Tattersall’s surveying horseflesh. It was more than a little discomfiting.

  He was pleasant but noncommittal, and his attention was divided between those seeking his company and the woman he was looking for but wasn’t sure he could find. Since he had no idea what she really looked like.

  He supposed he did have at least an idea—the shape of her face, her height, the tilt of her head. Her eyes. Those lush, expressive eyes that reminded him of the forest at Darent Hall, his country seat. If he could just hear her speak, he’d know her for certain.

  Because he’d dreamed she had dark blonde hair, that was what he found himself searching for. He could be wrong, however, so he told himself to study every face and form for a hint of his friend Smitty.

  A tall, regal woman approached him. “Lord Dartford, how charming to see you here.” The woman was vaguely familiar, but he wasn’t completely sure how he knew her. She seemed to understand his consternation, bless her, for she said, “I’m Lady Satterfield. I was a friend of your mother’s when we were in our first Season. I came to Darent Hall a few times, but you were only a boy.”

  And just like that, Andrew’s heart began to pound. Cold sweat dappled his neck. He didn’t want to feel this. Not here. Not now.

  He tried to summon a pleasant response but only managed, “Yes, I remember you.” He didn’t really, and now he understood why. He generally shoved everything to do with his family as far away from his mind as possible.

  She cocked her head to the side. “It’s quite all right if you don’t.” She took his arm. “Come, walk with me a moment.”

  The irony of being rescued from the herd of matchmaking mamas by another matchmaking mama wasn’t lost on him. Was she a matchmaking mama? “Where are we going?” he asked.

  “I thought you needed rescuing. You don’t come to many balls anymore. Perhaps you underestimated the vulturelike atmosphere.”

  He laughed, surprised that his emotions could veer so swiftly, but exceptionally glad. The tension she’d provoked by mentioning his mother eased. Her touch was surprisingly comforting. “Thank you. I had forgotten.”

  She led him to the edge of the ballroom. “I must confess I’d hoped to introduce you to my ward, but I can see you need a moment to regain your equilibrium.”

  He marveled that she’d noticed his discomfort. “I’m fine, thank you.” He was now. “I’d be delighted to meet your ward.” It was the least he could do to repay Lady Satterfield’s kindness, even if she was the one who’d caused his momentary distress.

  “All right. She’s over here with her friend.”

  They skirted the wall until they came upon a pair of young women. Both were dark-haired, one with corkscrew curls grazing her temples, the other with a more severe style.

  The one with the curls was facing him. Her bright blue eyes connected with Lady Satterfield first, acknowledging her, then moved to Andrew. She smiled warmly.

  The second one was angled away from him, but now she turned. The familiar moss and earth tone of her luminous eyes shot straight into his chest. His breath hitched.

  It was her.

  She wasn’t blonde. But she was stunning. Not classically beautiful, but far more attractive than the pale misses who’d clustered around him when he’d arrived.

  Lady Satterfield let go of his arm. “May I present Lord Dartford?” She gestured toward Miss Parnell’s companion. “This is my ward, Miss Aquilla Knox, and her friend, Miss Lucinda Parnell.”

  Miss Knox curtseyed. “Pleased to meet you, my lord.”

  He bowed. “The pleasure is mine.” His gaze moved to Miss Parnell. “Miss Parnell.”

  “Lord Dartford.” Her voice was as dusky and seductive as he recalled. In fact, it was even more alluring now that he had her feminine features to go with it.

  “May I have the next dance?” he asked. Belatedly he realized he should’ve asked Miss Knox to dance, but he feared Miss Parnell had stolen his wits.

  She narrowed her eyes slightly and didn’t immediately respond. Instead, she glanced at her friend.

  Miss Knox gave her an easy smile, and Andrew knew she must do so often. Not like Miss Parnell, who kept her emotions very close. At least when she was dressed as a man. Would she behave differently now that she was without her disguise? What was she really like? Andrew longed to find out.

  She was utterly lovely, with a strong but feminine jawline and supple lips that made him wonder how she could ever pass for a man. The sideburns, which he didn’t miss in the slightest, completely changed her face, he realized. She’d been smart to don them.

  He was glad, however, that she wasn’t wearing them now. And that she’d disposed of her padding and her men’s costume. She was lithe and lean, with subtle curves and long legs. He imagined her riding a horse with ease. If she could shoot like a man, he suspected she probably rode like one too.

  “The next set is starting soon,” he prompted. She still hadn’t responded to his invitation.

  She continued to hesitate, and her friend delivered an elbow to her side. Andrew stifled a grin as Miss Parnell tossed a glare at Miss Knox.

  “Go!”

  Andrew couldn’t hear the word but read Miss Knox’s lips, and the glower she delivered Miss Parnell gave the utterance its exclamation point, at least in Andrew’s mind. Miss Knox gave her a little push for good measure.

  Miss Parnell frowned but moved forward. Andrew offered his arm
, which she took—in a clearly reluctant fashion if the slowness of her movements were any indication.

  Andrew bowed to Lady Satterfield and Miss Knox. “Ladies.”

  He led Miss Parnell toward the dance floor. “Why didn’t you want to dance with me?”

  “Don’t take it personally. I don’t like to dance with anyone.”

  He glanced down at her. “Not a very good dancer?”

  She sucked in a breath and then laughed. He liked that sound. Almost as much as he liked watching her animated face. “I’m an excellent dancer.”

  He arched a brow at her. “I’ll be the judge of that.”

  She rolled her eyes. “I suppose you’re superior on the dance floor. You don’t seem to have any deficiencies.”

  He grinned, enormously pleased with her observation. “I’m so glad you noticed.”

  The set finished, and the music started for the next dance. A waltz. Andrew couldn’t believe his good luck.

  Miss Parnell’s nostrils flared. It was a slight reaction, but Andrew caught it.

  “What’s the matter?” he asked.

  “I haven’t waltzed very much. I wasn’t paying attention to the sets, otherwise I would’ve told you I couldn’t dance this one.”

  He lightly clasped her waist and took her hand. “I thought you said you were an excellent dancer.”

  She scowled at him as she curled her fingers around his and placed her hand on his shoulder. “You are most ungracious.”

  He laughed again, enjoying her immensely. “Come now, surely if you can shoot a gun with deadly accuracy, you can’t let a waltz defeat you?”

  She squared her shoulders, which drew his attention to her chest. Though she wasn’t well-endowed, she was nicely formed for her frame, and the bodice of her raspberry silk ball gown fit her to perfection.