To the Duke, With Love--The Rakes of St. James

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To the Duke, With Love--The Rakes of St. James Page 19

by Amelia Grey


  His expression of awe settled into a look of disbelief as his eyes narrowed. “You really believe that?”

  “I think it’s possible,” she said evasively. “Have you ever met the man?”

  He shifted in his chair, shrugged, and finally said, “No, and I have never wanted to.”

  Loretta really had no idea whether or not a woman wrote the book, but there was something infinitely delightful about dueling with the duke in a tit-for-tat way. She believed she could do it all night and not grow tired. “Do you know anyone who has ever met him?”

  “I can’t say I do. I didn’t have a fondness for the man’s book so I didn’t go around asking about the fellow. Especially considering the uproar going on in Society at the time I was reading it. The person who actually wrote the book was of no importance.”

  “I’m sure that was true.”

  “To say the least. I had all but forgotten about the book until Miss Honora Truth’s Weekly Scandal Sheet brought it to everyone’s attention again last year, when the Duke of Griffin’s sisters made their debut. But you have given me cause for thought on this. I may have to ask about him when I return to London. You’ve now made me curious about Sir Vincent Tybalt Valentine and”—he paused—“other things.”

  From the corner of her eye, Loretta saw that Mrs. Philbert had started listening to them again, so she wasn’t about to ask what other things he was talking about, but she would have if they’d been alone.

  Instead, she abruptly changed the conversation. “Tell me, Your Grace, do you dine with such elegance every night?”

  “Never when I dine alone in London, but always when we have guests at Hawksthorn.”

  “But,” Mrs. Philbert added as she looked at the duke, “if you don’t mind me joining your conversation again, Your Grace?”

  He acknowledged her question with a nod.

  “I wanted to tell Miss Quick there are times when we are less formal here as well. When it’s just the three of us. We dress for dinner, of course, but the food is not as elaborately prepared with so many courses and the table not quite so majestic. When the duke is away, which is often”—she gave Hawk a passing glance—“Lady Adele will, on a rare occasion, say she doesn’t want to dress for dinner, and she has the freedom to have something delivered to her room for her.”

  Hawk kept his attention on Loretta, but said, “Thank you for clarifying that for Miss Quick, Minerva. Now, if everyone is finished, I think it’s time for a brandy.”

  He rose and stepped over to help Loretta with her chair while Paxton hurried to the other side of the table to help Lady Adele and Mrs. Philbert. Hawk deliberately let the backs of his fingers press against her shoulders as she stood. A delicious shiver of pleasure rippled through her at his brief touch. It intensified as he bent close to her ear and whispered, “I’ll see you in the drawing room later.”

  “You won’t be too long, will you?” Lady Adele asked her brother.

  “I promise we won’t be,” he said indulgently.

  “See that you aren’t.” She gave him a smile and then a kiss on his cheek. “It always seems to take you longer to have a brandy than for ladies to have a cup of tea.”

  “That is because you drink your tea fast because you don’t want it to get cold. We don’t have that problem with brandy.”

  “Come along, Miss Quick,” Lady Adele said and marched from the room.

  Loretta, Lady Adele, and Mrs. Philbert started making their way back to the drawing room. Lady Adele talked while Loretta once again looked at all the beautiful things she’d seen when she’d first entered earlier that evening. Life-sized portraits, mirrors, and paintings of flowers, horses, and dogs hung on the plaster-covered walls. Large urns had been placed in all the corners, and on both sides of the fireplace stood regal-looking suits of armor that included swords and pikes. Clocks, music boxes, and figurines of varying styles, sizes, and shapes had been arranged on handsome pieces of furniture.

  The drawing room was extravagantly furnished with gilt-washed wood chairs and dark-wood settees upholstered in elegant-looking fabrics dyed in rich colors and soft hues. Some were floral, others striped, and two matching armchairs near a window were covered in a material that looked as if it could have been made from gold thread. Baroque-styled woodwork trimmed the ceilings and frames, and fancy-topped lamps burned brightly to show it all.

  Loretta had always thought the Earl of Switchingham’s home was the most impressive manor house she’d ever seen. That was of course, before she’d walked into the Duke of Hawksthorn’s home. This was just the kind of house she’d imagined the duke growing up in. She could see a little boy running from room to room, darting around the side table and away from his tutor, laughing as he hid behind the heavy velvet draperies. And the duke’s children would grow up here one day, too, she thought with a sigh of longing.

  “Would you mind playing something for us, Minerva?” Lady Adele asked. “I’d like to visit with Miss Quick.”

  “Not at all,” Mrs. Philbert said, and headed for the pianoforte at the far end of the large room. “Did you have something special in mind that you wanted to hear tonight?”

  “Thank you, Minerva, and no, you decide. Come sit by me on the settee, Miss Quick. Right here.” She patted the cushion. “I want you to tell me more about your brother.”

  “All right,” Loretta said, making herself comfortable on the small sofa beside her hostess. She would have thought that by now Lady Adele had asked Paxton everything possible under the sun. Loretta couldn’t believe there was more she wanted to know about him.

  “He never stops smiling,” Lady Adele said and then turned to her cousin. “Not that one, Minerva. It’s simply too slow and makes me feel sad. I’d rather you play a lively tune. Do you mind?” Mrs. Philbert immediately changed the tempo of the score without saying a word or even looking up from the pianoforte. “Thank you,” Lady Adele said to her cousin and turned back to Loretta again. “So I want to know, is happy his true disposition or is he putting on an act for me?”

  “It’s not an act, I assure you. I’ve never known him to be given to bouts of melancholy, and it’s just not in his nature to be disagreeable. I think your brother will attest to that, as well.”

  “Hawk did make mention of that. Mr. Quick is quite handsome, too. That’s something else our brothers have in common, don’t you think so?”

  “Yes,” Loretta agreed. Hawk was most pleasing to look at.

  “Does Mr. Quick ever get angry and raise his voice to you?”

  “Certainly not,” Loretta said, appalled Lady Adele would ask such a question and as casually as if she were talking about the weather on a sunny day.

  “You would tell me the truth about him, wouldn’t you?”

  “Yes, of course,” Loretta argued, not appreciating the way the conversation was going. If there was one person who didn’t need defending for any presumed wrongs, it was Paxton. “I would tell you or anyone for that matter the truth about anything asked. If Paxton has a fault, it’s that he finds it difficult to take his time and be serious-minded. Even when there is a concern of great importance that should be treated with critical attention, he sometimes handles the matter too carelessly.”

  “Good,” she said, seeming satisfied with Loretta’s answer. “I don’t see that as a problem, Miss Quick. There is always someone around here who can handle a serious situation for us.”

  “Then you are well cared for,” Loretta said, thinking she’d prefer to handle her own difficulties and settle them herself.

  Wanting to change the subject, Loretta asked, “I’m wondering why you’re considering an arranged marriage and not attending the Season when it’s hardly more than a month away.”

  “I’ve heard it can be quite alarming.”

  “The Season?” Loretta frowned. “In what way?”

  “Minerva says that all the young ladies are on constant display for all the gentlemen to look at and talk about, and if they so wish, they can dally with our tende
r affections at no cost to their reputations at all and possible dire consequences to our own.”

  Loretta had never heard the Season described in such an unflattering light. “I would never want to contradict your cousin,” Loretta said, glancing over to the woman who sat straight and stiff on the pianoforte stool, and played with excellent skill. “But while some gentlemen might be so boorish and crass, not all are, I’m sure.”

  “Too,” Lady Adele continued as if Loretta hadn’t spoken, “it’s the gentlemen who have to ask for our hands. All we have to do is look beautiful, flutter around like a butterfly, and wait for them to do it! And what if no gentleman does?” she asked, a horrified expression on her face. “Minerva said many young ladies who haven’t been asked to make a match by the end of their first Season are completely devastated and never get over the rejection. Why go through that if you have a brother such as mine who knows all the gentlemen so well and can pick the best one for me?”

  Loretta wondered if Mrs. Philbert’s opinion had been formed from personal experience about how her own first Season had been, or if perhaps she’d had an arranged marriage, too, and was only spouting rumors she’d heard years ago concerning the famed marriage mart. In any case, as far as Loretta was concerned, Lady Adele’s cousin had a jaded view of the Season that needed a counter. Most young ladies she knew looked forward to it.

  “But you are lovely, intelligent, and the daughter of a duke,” Loretta said, speaking softly, not wanting her words overheard by Lady Adele’s cousin. “There would be many fine and worthy gentlemen who would seek your hand. What Mrs. Philbert spoke of simply wouldn’t happen to you—unless you wanted it to. I’d venture to say that most young ladies wouldn’t be bothered at all to be left on the shelf a year or two if it meant the right match was made in the end.”

  “Do you truly believe that?” she asked emphatically.

  “I told you I would always tell you the truth. I believe the number of devastated ladies would be very few. I attended some of the Season before my—well, I talked with ladies who couldn’t wait for the parties and balls to begin so they could be courted by the handsome gentlemen. They were eager for each new Season to begin, because they enjoyed the company, the attention, the dancing, the rides in the park, and the tea and card parties in the afternoons.”

  Lady Adele’s expression turned quizzical. “But you had an arranged marriage, did you not?”

  “At my uncle’s wishes, yes. An engagement, though, I’m sure you’ve heard it didn’t end in a marriage.”

  “Yes, of course.” She placed one hand over Loretta’s briefly as concern suddenly etched her face. “I hope it’s not too difficult for you to talk about?”

  “Not at all. It’s well past, and I seldom think about it.”

  Lady Adele turned toward her cousin. “Please change to a different melody now, Minerva, that one has become tiresome.” She waited until Mrs. Philbert changed to another score and said, “Yes, that’s a lovely one. I remember it well. And you play it so gracefully.”

  Facing Loretta again, she continued, “But it is easier, an arranged marriage, isn’t it? To let someone you trust pick the best person for you? Then you don’t have to go through meeting all the gentlemen who want nothing more than to measure you against all the other young ladies. Is she prettier, is her dowry as plump, does she have all her teeth?”

  Loretta and Lady Adele laughed at her last comment.

  “It’s true, is it not?” Lady Adele asked when their laughter subsided. “They look us over as if we were an expensive race horse they wanted to purchase.”

  Loretta blinked a couple of times over that statement. “That’s an interesting way of thinking about it, I guess. Keep in mind, if you attended the Season you would be looking them over, too, and making your own judgments about each one of the gentlemen. Some you will enjoy more than others. Some will make you laugh, some may bore you to tears. One or two may even make you angry. But then, there might be one who will make you breathless just to look at him. Make you feel as if a stallion is racing in your chest every time he looks at you. You’ll lie awake at night thinking about him, wondering when you will see him again, if you’ll see him again.”

  Abruptly, Loretta stopped. She realized she was telling Lady Adele the way she felt about Hawk.

  “Oh, my.” Lady Adele seemed to study on what Loretta said as she pulled at a ribbon on the neckline of her gown. “What a dreadful thing to happen. I mean, who would want to stay awake all night thinking about anything? Do you really think it’s possible for someone to make you feel that way?”

  For some reason Lady Adele didn’t seem to comprehend what Loretta was trying to say about how a man could make a young lady feel. Loretta hadn’t understood, either, until she met the duke.

  “I do,” she said and knew that if Lady Adele had to ask, it meant she hadn’t felt that way about Paxton, and Loretta didn’t know yet how Paxton felt about Lady Adele.

  “I’ve had a little opportunity to be in the company of gentlemen,” Lady Adele commented. “We usually have a Christmas ball each year here at Hawksthorn, and I’ve been allowed to attend. Not for the entire evening, of course, just briefly, because I’ve not curtsied before the queen, but I will when we go to London next month. I’ve seen a few gentlemen whom I think would make fine husbands. Some handsome, some not, and some Hawk said absolutely not.” Lady Adele laughed again, clasped her hands under her chin thoughtfully, and said, “I think I would absolutely adore marrying the Duke of Rathburne, but Hawk won’t let me consider him. He’s such a rake. And of course Hawk would know all about them because he is a rake himself.”

  “You know about your brother’s reputation as—”

  “One of the Rakes of St. James?” Lady Adele finished for Loretta. “Everyone does. That’s one of the reasons I trust him to pick a husband for me. He knows all about men. The good ones and the bad ones. Speaking of gentlemen,” Lady Adele continued, “I wonder where Hawk and Mr. Quick are. They certainly are taking their time over their drinks and talks, aren’t they?”

  Loretta stared at Lady Adele’s green eyes. It had not been more than five or six minutes since they left the gentlemen. So not long at all.

  “It’s Hawk’s wish, as well as mine,” Lady Adele continued, “that I be happy in my marriage, and I trust him to pick the very best gentleman for me. And if that person turns out to be your brother, I will trust Hawk made the right choice.”

  Loretta had thought her uncle would be the best person to pick a husband for her, too, until she attended the Season and realized there were gentlemen she enjoyed being with much more than Viscount Denningcourt. That had been a shocking realization for her and one of the reasons in the end that she didn’t marry the viscount.

  “If you were to ask me, I would suggest you wait and meet all the gentlemen who attend the Season. To find the man who makes your heart beat faster and your breath grow short every time you look at him. And if Paxton doesn’t do that for you, keep looking. I do believe you will find one who does.”

  “But what if I don’t? I am not foolish, Miss Quick. And I do like what I see in your brother. He suits me very well. Enough talk of gentlemen,” she said suddenly. “It’s making my head hurt and it’s really quite boring, is it not? To waste so much time talking about men. Would you like to see my dog’s new puppies?” Lady Adele asked, completely changing the subject. “Miss Wiggins had a litter. Mr. Quick saw them this afternoon while you took a walk with Hawk.”

  It was difficult for Loretta to understand Lady Adele’s simple way of looking at life, but she must have been the same way when she was eighteen. She had allowed her uncle to choose a husband for her. She couldn’t fault Lady Adele, only try to help her. Maybe it was that now Loretta knew more about life, feelings, and men and she didn’t want to see either Lady Adele or her brother be unhappy with their decisions.

  “Yes, I’d like that very much. I haven’t seen a puppy in years. What kind of dogs are they?”

 
Lady Adele rose from the settee. “Spaniels. A small breed and they are all so adorable, but of course I have a favorite already. Minerva, we’re going to see the puppies. Do you want to go with us?”

  Minerva stopped playing and stood. “If you don’t mind, I’ll take this time to go upstairs for a few minutes. I’ll meet you back down here by the time the gentlemen come in.”

  “Of course. I know you don’t really care to look at the puppies again.” Lady Adele looked at Loretta and smiled. “She must see them at least five or six times a day. I hate to stay away from them.”

  “Have you ladies finished your tea?” Mrs. Philbert asked. “I can have the tray removed.”

  “Yes,” Lady Adele said. “And take your time. We are quite able to care for ourselves for a few minutes.”

  Loretta saw the untouched tray sitting on the table in front of them, and smiled as she rose from the settee. Lady Adele had been so busy talking, she’d never even thought to offer the tea.

  The duke’s sister took Loretta to a small storage room at the back of the house. There were chairs, tables, sofas, and other pieces of furniture stacked in the room. Near a window, fenced in by wooden crates, she saw three little fur balls in the makeshift pen. One was trying to sleep and the other two kept running over him.

  “Miss Wiggins isn’t here,” Lady Adele offered. “I guess she has been let outside for a few minutes, which means we have come at the right time. She’s a bit jealous and doesn’t like for me to hold them.”

  They knelt and Lady Adele reached down, picked up one of the puppies, and held it up for Loretta to see. “This one is my favorite. See how she has no white patches on her anywhere. Her coat is so many shades of brown and tan that she reminds me of dried chocolate mixture before the milk is added to it. Isn’t she the most beautiful creature you have ever seen?”

  Loretta smiled at the squirming puppy. One side of her face was blond, tan, and light golden-brown tufts of fur, and the other side was more chocolate and chestnut coloring. “She absolutely is.”

 

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