“Who?” he asked defensively.
Tom smirked.
“The lady who has created this hell on earth.”
Edward regarded him cautiously. “What makes you think it is a woman?”
Tom barked out a harsh laugh. “Isn’t it always?”
Edward chuckled. “Yes, I suppose it is.”
“So, are you going to tell the gory details?”
“Are you?” Edward shot back.
Tom smiled. “Touché cousin.”
They made the rest of the journey in contemplative silence.
CHAPTER SEVENTEEN
The next day dawned bright and clear and Rebecca leapt from bed, a sense of excitement bubbling in her stomach.
Last night, they’d enjoyed a quiet but excellent dinner with Hartridge and Mr. Crawdon. Though Rebecca had been a bundle of nervous anticipation, she’d actually thoroughly enjoyed the night. The food had been delicious, the wine delightful. And though she had been sure she would feel uncomfortable in the duke’s presence, he had been a witty and entertaining visitor. Between them both, Edward and Mr. Crawdon had managed to keep them entertained with funny anecdotes about each other’s past escapades.
The strong relationship between them was evident in their banter and Rebecca had been relaxed for the whole evening. The only time she’d had a wobble was when the duke had been taking his leave and had once again kissed the back of her hand. The now familiar longing had shot through her and she’d felt the urge to stroke his raven hair between her fingers as he’d bent over her hand.
Still, she hadn’t, thank goodness, and now she knew she could spend some time in his presence with equanimity.
Maura bustled into the room with Rebecca’s morning chocolate and started pulling garments from the drawers and wardrobe.
“What would you like to wear today, my lady?” Maura was in fine spirits, filled with excitement at being in the city at last.
“I do not know what the dowager has planned, I believe she mentioned something about shopping so perhaps one of my new afternoon dresses.”
“How about the pale lemon muslin, my lady?” Maura asked, pulling the beautiful dress from the wardrobe.
The colour showed off Rebecca’s dark colouring to perfection and it was ideal for a clear spring day. Rebecca nodded her approval and looked forward to wearing the new gown.
It wasn’t long before Maura once again worked wonders with Rebecca’s hair, gathering most of it at the back of her head and leaving a few curling tendrils to frame her face. The style was simple but extremely flattering and Rebecca felt more than ready to take on her first day of the Season.
As they broke their fast, the dowager confirmed her plans to take the girls shopping and so it was agreed that they would leave at two o’clock and go directly to her grace’s favourite mantua maker. The girls had bought no more than one or two evening gowns in Dublin after the duchess’ insistence that they wait to meet Madame Elodie Barousse.
Madame Barousse was famous throughout England for her talent in dressing ladies of the ton. She was difficult to secure an appointment with and even more difficult to convince to actually make gowns for the ladies who came to see her. But Madame had long since been patronised by the Duchess of Hartridge so the dowager was confident that the girls would be well attended to.
“She will, I am sure, be delighted to dress two such beautiful girls,” the dowager told them excitedly as they approached Madame’s shop later that day. “Dressmakers always want to show off their clothes on a beautiful face and form.”
Rebecca and Caroline waited with some trepidation for the footman to lower the steps so they could alight from the carriage. Maura had told them the servants’ gossip about the famous Madame. Apparently only last week the daughter of the Duke of Bandon had been seen running out in tears as the volatile dressmaker had hurled insults at her.
Caroline had then spent a goodly part of the morning begging Rebecca to be quiet, calm, not rise to any bait and conduct herself with quietness and decorum. “In short,” finished Caroline after a lengthy sermon, “just do not be yourself.” Lovely.
Rebecca was the first to exit the carriage and stood taking in the sights and sounds of the busy shopping street while she waited for the other ladies.
So much busier than Dublin, which she had thought to be bustling, London seemed fast paced and relentless. So many carriages and people, she thought. Her eyes scanned the crowd taking in the elegant ladies and handsome gentlemen. She froze suddenly as she spotted a man watching her from across the street. An icy dread filled her. No. It could not be he!
“Rebecca.”
Rebecca yelped as a hand touched her arm.
“Goodness, what is the matter? You look as if you’d seen a ghost.” Caroline, who had touched her to draw her attention, was frowning in concern.
Rebecca spared her a quick glance but then turned back. He was gone. She scanned the street both ways as far as possible but there was no trace. Perhaps she’d imagined it?
“Rebecca. Truly, what is wrong?”
“It is nothing, Caro. I thought I saw someone I knew that is all.”
Caroline seemed appeased and turned to enter the shop. Rebecca, however, was uneasy and felt a little ill. She could not speak to Caroline about what had frightened her so, since Caroline had no idea that the man had caused Rebecca any problems.
No, there was only one person, Edward, who knew and even then he was not aware of her last nasty meeting with that man.
For standing across the street watching her had been Mr. Simons.
But how and why was he here? Rebecca resolved to speak to Edward as soon as she could. He was the only person who could advise her on what was best to do. Besides, he made her feel safe and right now she felt anything but.
It could, of course, be an unhappy coincidence. But an Irish country farmer had no business in London during the Season. And he had been watching her so closely…
The sooner Rebecca could speak to Edward about this and figure it out, the better.
Entering the shop proved a welcome distraction. Indeed, Rebecca thought one could not help be distracted on entering this shop.
As soon as they were inside a young girl approached to welcome them. She recognized the dowager at once and immediately led them to comfortable seats then scurried off to fetch Madame.
The booming voice was heard before the person was seen. Barking orders like a military general it was deep and loud and definitely caused the girls to be nervous. They shared a look of alarm before the curtain parted and Madame Barousse stepped into the room.
Madame Elodie Barousse was certainly a sight to behold. As big as her voice had indicated, in both stature and height, she towered above the ladies who rose to greet her.
“My dear duchess. How wonderful to see you again,” Madame boomed in her thick accent. “Who have you brought to me today? Let me have a look.”
She reached out and grabbed each of the sisters in a vice-like grip, dragging them to stand in front of her while she squinted and inspected them closely.
After a few moments silence, and a couple of circles around their bodies, Madame clapped her hands together causing them to jump.
“Magnifiqué,” she declared, “They will do my creations justice. I will dress them.”
Madame began watching them with the squinty expression again. Rebecca wondered if they were supposed to be doing something.
“Bien,” she shouted, causing them to jump yet again, “I will start with the blonde. I have just the thing.”
Some hours later, the ladies left Madame Barousse’s with their smiles bigger and their allowances lighter. They had commissioned Madame to make several evening and ball gowns each, along with the accompanying slippers and wraps. Each girl had purchased an utterly exquisite gown for the end of Season ball, which was put on by the dowager every year. It was the social event of the Season. Everyone would be there and so it was imperative that the girls had something special.
They could not wait to see what Madame created, having seen samples of fabrics that she intended to use. The dresses themselves, she informed them, would be surprises. But having seen some of her gowns they knew they were in the hands of a genius.
They stopped off for ices to regain their strength and then headed straight back into the fray, coming away from each shop with new fans, bonnets, ribbons and decorations for their hair, gloves, slippers and plenty of other things they did not need. The dowager was a very persuasive shopping companion and had, in fact, purchased several items for the girls as gifts.
When they objected she clasped them both by the hand and said, “Please, girls. Allow me to do this. I never had a daughter that I could share these things with.”
The girls had thanked her and offered no more objections.
Finally, after hours of exhausting but thoroughly enjoyable shopping, the ladies were ready to return home. There ensued a complex few moments of arranging the various purchases in the carriage, with some of them having to be stored on the seats inside. The footmen managed it however and the ladies were just getting ready to embark when a shout sounded behind them.
“Ah, mother. I see you’ve been buying up Bond Street yet again.” Edward smiled indulgently and Rebecca felt her heart warm at the sight of him.
He peered into the carriage at the excess boxes.
“Good heavens! It seems your cohorts share your talent for shopping.”
“They do indeed,” answered the duchess enthusiastically. “We have enjoyed a very successful afternoon.”
“I hope there is something in there for the March’s dance this evening. It is your first event, is it not? You must make sure to draw attention.”
Rebecca watched Edward as he chatted and smiled, his demeanour friendly and easy-going. She rather liked this side of him, usually being only privy to the arrogant ‘duke’ side.
“Oh do not worry on that score my son,” the dowager answered, “The girls will have marriage-minded young men beating down the door by as early as tomorrow, I warrant.”
Her words fell like rocks into the jovial mood of the group. Rebecca had quite forgotten her assertion that she was here to find a husband, though her sponsor had clearly not.
Edward’s face went from smiling to thunderous in a second and he shot a dark look at Rebecca before pulling his features yet again, into his haughty ‘duke face’.
“But of course, eyes on the prize, eh ladies?” he asked sarcastically.
Rebecca felt her hackles rise but she bit back a retort and instead smiled sweetly at Edward.
“Did you not promise to escort us, your grace, so that you may help us to pick suitable husbands?”
Edward’s jaw clenched so tightly, she thought rigor mortis had set in. But he soon recovered his composure enough to bow slightly and answer, “Of course, my lady. I should be delighted.”
“If that is delighted, I dread to think what your unhappy face looks like,” she quipped.
The dowager burst out laughing. Caroline stepped on Rebecca’s toe.
“You’ve seen it, my lady, when we’ve been interrupted,” Edward answered scandalously, wanting to get one up in this verbal sparring, his smouldering eyes reminding her of the incidences he was talking about.
Her own eyes widened at his audacity. What on earth was he doing, saying such things to her in front of his mother and her sister? Had he run mad?
There was a pause in the conversation as Caroline and the dowager thought about what he’d said. Rebecca did not want to give them a chance to start speculating so she began shooing, shooing, the Dowager Duchess of Hartridge into her own carriage.
“Come now, your grace, we should be returning to ready ourselves for the dance tonight.”
The dowager looked a little shocked at being manhandled but allowed herself to be escorted into the carriage. Caroline shot daggers, again, at Rebecca before following the dowager.
Rebecca spun to face Edward, her eyes glinting with anger.
“How could you? Do you not realise they will start supposing things with your cryptic remarks?”
Edward merely grinned unrepentantly.
“What is there to suppose but that I have been happy in your presence Rebecca? And I have been happy. Very, very happy.”
To Edward’s great amusement, Rebecca swore quietly but profusely.
“Come now, do not upset yourself. I promise to behave like the perfect gentleman from now on.”
Rebecca should not have felt a pang of disappointment at his promise. But she did. And it obviously showed since Edward’s face broke into a wicked grin.
“In company of course.”
She should not smile, should not encourage him but he was incorrigible and she was more drawn to him by the day.
“Then I shall just have to make sure we are not alone together.”
“And I shall have to make sure we are.”
The air crackled between them.
“Are we to stand around all day then?” came the dowager’s voice from the carriage, “Lady Rebecca seemed in rather a rush to go.”
Rebecca’s face flamed as she apologised to the dowager and made to enter the carriage. Edward grabbed her hand and kissed it wantonly; Rebecca gasped as she felt sure his tongue had just darted out. But his face was expressionless as he rose up again and handed her into the carriage.
“Good day, ladies,” he said as he closed the door, “Until tonight.”
Though he spoke to the group, his eyes remained on Rebecca.
CHAPTER EIGHTEEN
The door sounded downstairs and Rebecca knew it must be Edward come to escort them. She had completely forgotten to ask to speak to him earlier so that she might share her concerns, fears rather, about Mr. Simons. But perhaps there would be an opportunity tonight.
Maura had just put the finishing touches to her hair and was retrieving Rebecca’s wrap from the wardrobe.
“Now, my lady, let’s have a final look at you before you go down.”
She turned Rebecca toward the looking glass and sighed happily. “You really are a picture.”
Rebecca looked over herself with a critical eye, needing to make sure that she looked her best tonight. She did not want to let her father down now.
She had chosen a cream silk evening gown for tonight’s festivities. The square cut neckline was a trifle low, though not as low as some she’d seen. A row of tiny pearls had been sewn along the neckline. The cap sleeves were lined with the same pearls. Yet another row was sewn onto the empire line of satin ribbon before the dress fell in folds to her feet.
Cream satin slippers and white evening gloves completed the picture. At her neck and throat she wore the diamonds that her parents had gifted her for her sixteenth birthday and Maura had cleverly dotted diamonds throughout the curls piled on her head. An elegant cream fan and satin wrap were the finishing touches, handed to her now by Maura.
“You will cause an absolute sensation, Lady Rebecca,” exclaimed Maura happily.
“I just want to be sure to live up to my family name, Maura,” answered Rebecca a little nervously.
“Sure and why would not you? You will be the belle of the ball.”
“I hope so,” answered Rebecca quietly, looking once more at her reflection. Her cheeks were flushed from excitement and nerves and her eyes glistened with anticipation. It was now or never. Rebecca gave Maura a quick hug and swept from the room.
Edward stood in the hallway and awaited the arrival of the ladies of the house. His mother was not exactly renowned for her punctuality. Lady Caroline, however, seemed far too well mannered to keep a gentleman waiting and indeed within moments of his arrival, the lady began to descend the stairs.
She really is very beautiful, Edward thought. Strange how her beauty failed to move him.
“Lady Caroline,” Edward bowed to her as she reached the foot of the stairs, “may I say how beautiful you look tonight?”
Lady Caroline smiled graciously and
thanked him. She wore a gown tonight the colour of the sky in spring and it suited her very well. It made her eyes seem bluer and her hair brighter. Her jewels were sapphires and she looked so well put together Edward knew that she’d be fighting them off in droves.
He wondered if he should enlist Tom’s help in keeping the wolves at bay.
His mother arrived on the heels of Lady Caroline looking resplendent in deep purple velvet. She was still a woman of beauty and Edward was pleased to see how happy she looked. It did her good having the Carrington girls stay with her. He felt a little guilty that he did not visit more often.
He’d purchased his own townhouse a few years ago after it became apparent that his mother was trying to marry him off. He’d grown tired of bevvies of debutantes laying siege on his house and had judged it best and safer, really, to remove himself to another equally beautiful but mercifully debutante free household.
His mother was far from lonely, being one of the leading ladies of the ton. But to see her excitement now made him resolve to spend more time with her. And he really should think about providing her with those grandchildren she so desperately yearned for.
It seemed an odd sort of coincidence that Lady Rebecca should choose the moment he thought of grandchildren to make her entrance. His heart stopped. Simply stopped dead in his chest. This woman would be the death of him.
He watched her descent with eyes wide and jaw open. She looked like Aphrodite, Goddess of Love and destroyer of the souls of men everywhere.
The cream silk of her dress caressed her body lovingly before falling in folds to the floor, hiding what he knew to be utterly gorgeous legs. He swallowed convulsively as she came to stand in front of him and bent into a curtsy.
Still he remained unmoved.
“Edward,” his mother’s voice sounded more than a little amused, “bow to the lady. And close your mouth.”
Edward snapped to attention at his mother’s voice.
“Lady Rebecca,” he said though it sounded embarrassingly like a squeak, “you look –”
There was a pause as he tried to form a coherent sentence.
An Unlikely Duchess Page 17
