Last Night with the Duke

by Amelia Grey

  Lady Sara and Lady Vera screamed.

  Suddenly arms and hands were flung wide, cups, tarts, and parasols were thrown into the air as the squealing continued. Lady Vera jumped up and stumbled over the duke’s legs, trying to get away. He caught her before she hit the ground. Lady Sara bolted to her feet, immediately tripped over her skirt, toppled over the chocolate container and the basket, and fell on top of Esmeralda while screeching like a banshee.

  In a blur of dresses and flying limbs, Esmeralda’s dress flew up past her knees as the force of Lady Sara’s fall knocked both of them to the ground with a swoosh and a grunt. Napoleon gave a playful growl and woof before jumping into the fray.

  Lady Sara screamed again before the duke could shoo Napoleon away and catch his sister’s flailing arms and help her to stand. Esmeralda scrambled to lower her skirts to her ankles and right herself. With the twins screeching and hanging on his arms, Griffin reached down to help her to stand too. She gladly accepted his assistance.

  “Are you hurt?” he asked.

  Esmeralda appreciated the concern she saw in his eyes. “No, no, of course not. I’m fine,” she whispered, straightening her bonnet on her head. “Please take care of your sisters.”

  “They’re fine too.”

  “What is that thing?” Lady Sara asked, using the duke’s body as a shield to keep her away from the frog.

  “It doesn’t matter what it is,” her twin hissed. “Get it out of here.”

  Esmeralda was horrified. The last thing she needed was another calamity involving Josephine. Esmeralda wouldn’t be surprised if the next thing they said was that they wanted Josephine and Napoleon out of their house immediately.

  “Josephine, for the love of heaven!” Esmeralda said in an exasperated voice, brushing at the dark stain of chocolate on her new skirt. “Put that thing down right now and let it hop away. Can’t you see you’re scaring the twins with it?”

  “It’s just a frog,” Josephine said, holding it up for the twins to see again, obviously oblivious to the true state of the duke’s sisters’ state of mind. “It won’t hurt you.”

  That explanation didn’t satisfy Lady Vera, and she screeched again. “Throw it away. I don’t like it.”

  “What’s wrong?” Mr. Lambert asked, rushing up to see if he could help. “What happened?”

  He wasn’t the only person who’d heard the commotion and screaming. Three other men were coming up right behind him to give aid to the ladies if need be.

  The duke ran a hand through his hair in frustration. “Nothing is wrong, Mr. Lambert, gentlemen,” he said with a nod of greeting to all. “As you can see, it’s just a frog that has frightened my sisters. No harm has been done to anyone.”

  Mr. Lambert looked down at Josephine’s defiant expression and the firm hold she had on the middle section of her large amphibian captive. “That’s a mammoth frog you have there, young lady.”

  “I know,” she said proudly. “I don’t think I’ve ever seen one this big. It took me a while to sneak up on it and catch it. It kept hopping away.”

  She held the beast up to her face and looked at it. It made a noise that sounded like a deep manly burp, and Josephine started laughing. “See, it’s not scary.”

  Esmeralda, Mr. Lambert, and the duke all chuckled too. So did the other people who had gathered around. Lady Sara and Lady Vera didn’t find anything about the frog amusing.

  “It’s horrid,” Lady Vera said again, making sure she made eye contact with her brother, Esmeralda, and Mr. Lambert. “And it’s certainly not comical. Make her take it away, Griffin.”

  After a forced cough to clear his laugh, the duke said, “You’re right, Vera. A frog can look frightening when you’re not used to seeing one up close.”

  Seizing the moment to impress Lady Sara, Mr. Lambert stepped closer and said, “I’d be happy to take care of it for you, Your Grace. That is, if you don’t mind and the miss will hand over the frog.”

  “Yes, give it to him,” Lady Sara said.

  “Thank you, Mr. Lambert,” Griffin said. “But I have everything handled. No need to trouble yourself.” Griffin looked at the other people who’d wandered over to see what the screaming was about. “It was kind of you to look in on us, but as you see, all is fine. Please go back to your picnics and enjoy your afternoon.”

  “Of course, Your Grace,” Mr. Lambert said with a smile. He gave Lady Vera a passing glance, then let his gaze linger on Lady Sara. “My ladies, I’ll see you at the ball tomorrow night. I’d be pleased if you’d both save me a dance.”

  “Of course, we shall,” Lady Sara answered quickly for herself and her sister. “Thank you for coming over to make sure nothing was wrong. That was very kind of you.”

  “It was my pleasure,” Mr. Lambert said with a nod, letting his eyes linger on Lady Sara again before turning away. The others followed behind him.

  “Now that I look at it from a distance, I guess it’s not that scary-looking,” Lady Sara said, “but I don’t want to touch it.”

  Lady Vera was not as forgiving, “I don’t know how you can allow Josephine to touch something like that, Miss Swift. I’ve heard it said that those things cause warts, bumps, and all sorts of horrible things to appear on your skin.”

  “If they did, Josephine would have warts all over her hands by now. She has been touching frogs for years. I admit I have no desire to hold a frog, but Josephine has never been afraid of anything, be it bugs, beetles, or butterflies.” Esmeralda looked at her cheeky sister and, though she saw the humor in the incident, felt compelled to say, “Josephine, that wasn’t a nice thing for you to do.”

  Josephine’s expression remained impish and unrepentant. “What did I do wrong? How was I to know they were scared? It’s just a frog. They don’t bite.”

  Esmeralda had no idea what Griffin was going to say to her. In truth, he had reason once again to dismiss her from his employ. That thought made her stomach quake. But no, she insisted to herself, lifting her shoulders straighter. She had resolved not to live in constant fear that she or Josephine were going to do something that made Griffin remove her from her position as the twins’ chaperone. She must have confidence that she would see this challenge to the end and earn her payment—and the promised bonus if possible.

  “But they don’t look or sound very nice,” Esmeralda said calmly, wanting to smooth over the incident quickly. “Now apologize to Lady Sara and Lady Vera for scaring them.”

  Griffin put his hands on Josephine’s shoulders and looked at Esmeralda with a soft expression. “No apology is necessary.”

  Her gaze flew to Griffin’s. He wasn’t angry.

  “She didn’t intend to frighten Sara and Vera. Come on, Josephine, I’ll go with you to take the frog back where you got him.”

  “You want to hold him?” Josephine asked as she lifted the frog up to Griffin.

  “Why not?” he said with a grin, taking hold of it with one hand as he and Josephine walked away.

  Esmeralda’s heart softened. The duke always surprised her. He didn’t have to be so understanding. She never expected him to be, yet he always was. Maybe all peers weren’t as coldhearted as her uncle had been to her mother.

  She looked down at the skirt of her new dress. Once cleaned, the chocolate stain wouldn’t look so bad on her dark gray dress, but it had completely ruined the twins’ pastel dresses. Lady Evelyn would probably have something to say about that.

  Esmeralda’s gaze swept down to the blanket. It was a mess of stomped-on tarts—Napoleon was happily scarfing up the last of the crumbs—spilled chocolate, an upended basket, and scattered cups, saucers, and napkins.

  She remembered the shrieks and expressions of horror on the twins’ faces when they saw the fat frog with bulging eyes and dangling legs hanging from Josephine’s hands. Lady Vera had stumbled, Lady Sara then tripped and fell on top of her, and Esmeralda’s skirt went flying up to her knees. What an embarrassing catastrophe that had been.

  Suddenly Esmeralda tur
ned her back to the twins and started laughing. Silently. Her shoulders shook but she remained quiet except for an occasional sniff that errantly escaped. Kneeling on the blanket, she started cleaning up the debris from the incident.

  Josephine was right. Why was anyone afraid of a frog?

  Chapter 17

  Do take a man at his word no matter how muddled that word may be.

  MISS MAMIE FORTESCUE’S DO’S AND DON’TS FOR CHAPERONES, GOVERNESSES, TUTORS, AND NURSES

  Griffin stepped into the warmth of White’s, and peeled off his leather gloves. Frustration had become an all too familiar feeling. Not only was he constantly thinking about who might want to upset the twins’ Season, the very tempting Esmeralda was consuming his thoughts as well. She claimed to know nothing about men or kissing, yet for all her proclaimed innocence in the ways of seduction, she had somehow managed to beguile him. She also challenged him, intrigued him, and made him desire her all the more each time he saw her.

  There were many beautiful ladies in London that Griffin could long for. Perhaps should long for. Some young, beautiful, and innocent—like the young gels looking to make a match. Others older, but well trained in the art of pleasing a man. And there were lovely widows seeking nothing more binding from him than a night in their bed.

  He didn’t want any of them.

  Yet Esmeralda, the one forbidden, the one he had to keep at a distance, was the one who heated his blood like no other, leaving him thirsty for a taste. She was the one he wanted with a yearning he’d never experienced before. It was maddening and challenging at the same time.

  He had seldom denied himself anything he wanted, and there was no denying he wanted her. And more than that. Her enjoyed being with her. He liked her banter, her boldness, and her sensitivity. He even liked her sister and their dog. And every day he had to remind himself he couldn’t touch her. Not yet. But there would come a time when he could. When he would.

  Griffin handed off his hat, gloves, and cloak to the attendant and forced Esmeralda from his thoughts. He strode toward the taproom, nodding at a gentleman he passed along the way and stopping to speak to another. All Griffin’s efforts to find out who might have designs to ruin his sisters had failed. He had some suspicions, but that’s all he had. They were flimsy at best and a poor substitute for facts.

  That’s why on this early evening he was back to the source: Sir Welby.

  Griffin had been spending more time at White’s in recent days. In the taproom, the billiards room, the reading room, all in hopes of hearing a comment, a word, something that might help him figure out who had been talking about him and his sisters that night. He usually had a keen sense and could pick up on the slightest inkling when something felt suspicious. But no one was talking. According to his aunt, even the gossip sheets had fallen silent on the subject.

  Rounding the doorway, Griffin saw the old man with long, thinning gray hair sitting at his usual table right by the entrance. His shoulders and back were as straight as men half his age, though much thinner. His eyesight might only be a hazy blur of images, but there was nothing wrong with his hearing. Above the chatter of the patrons, the thud of tankards, and the clink of glasses being placed on wooden tables, Sir Welby had heard Griffin’s approach and turned around. He always smiled, knowing whoever was walking in would speak to him as they passed.

  Griffin stopped by his chair and said, “Evening, Sir Welby. Do you mind if I join you?”

  “Your Grace,” he said and immediately grabbed hold to the edge of the table to help him stand. “I’d be honored.”

  “Keep your seat,” Griffin said, placing a hand on his shoulder to keep him from rising. “Your glass is almost empty. I’ll order another for you.” He glanced over at the bar and saw Holsey.

  The man bowed.

  Griffin nodded.

  “No, no,” Sir Welby said. “No more for me. I have enough trouble finding my out of here and out to my carriage in the evenings. I don’t want to be blind and staggering too.”

  Griffin laughed as did Sir Welby. One of the servers approached, but Griffin waved the man away.

  “I wanted to ask if you’d remembered anything more about what you’d heard about my sisters,” he said, sitting down opposite the man.

  Sir Welby’s brown eyes squinted. His bushy gray eyebrows twitched. It looked as if he were trying to focus on Griffin’s face but couldn’t quite manage. “No, no, I can’t say that I have. Not a thing more.”

  “You sit here most every evening. Have you since heard any of the voices from that night?”

  He stared at Griffin blankly. “No, no. I’m sure I haven’t. I-I would have sent word to you immediately just like you asked if I had.”

  “That’s puzzling. Everyone stops to speak to you when they come into the taproom.”

  “No, no. Not everyone speaks, but I’d say most of them do. Some are in too much of a hurry to be polite,” he grumbled. “I told you, Your Grace, I’m not sure I’d recognize them again if they did. I don’t know everyone who comes in here like I used to. There were too many voices that night. They all blended together just like I said.”

  “All right,” Griffin said. “Has anyone mentioned this to you and questioned you about it?”

  “Yes, yes,” he answered, suddenly looking excited. “Most everyone who stops by to speak asks me if I’ve heard anymore from the blades. I tell them the same thing I’m telling you. It was only the two of them. I haven’t heard another word, and don’t think I will. I don’t think they want to say anything else around me for fear I’ll tell everyone that too.”

  That was odd. Griffin rolled his shoulders. “Earlier you said it might have been as many as three, four, or more.”

  “Yes, yes, that’s right. Two to four. It was dark. I’m not sure.”

  The man seemed to be certain the last time he spoke with him. Griffin glanced around the taproom. The lamps had been lit. It was dim but not dark.

  “Have you not found out any indications as to who the young blades might be?” the old gentleman asked.

  The last thing Griffin wanted was Sir Welby telling everyone he had narrowed his suspicions down to Sir Charles Redding and Mr. Albert Trent. It would be fine if Trent and Sir Charles suspected he might be watching them, but he didn’t want them to know for sure. What still baffled the hell out of him was that no one was talking. London Society wasn’t known for keeping secrets.

  Griffin shook his head. When he realized that Sir Welby probably couldn’t see the gesture, he said, “Not yet.”

  “I’ll ask around for you,” he said eagerly. “And see what I can find out.”

  “It’s good of you to offer, but I’d rather you didn’t say anything more about this to anyone.”

  Sir Welby gave him a questioning look, then said, “That’s probably for the best. It could be that whoever was doing the bold talk that night has decided against putting their words into action since it’s been written about in every scandal sheet in London. Not to mention they’d be downright foolish to try anything with a duke’s sister.”

  “That’s what I’m hoping, but we both know there are some men willing try anything.”

  Chapter 18

  Do make the best of any unpleasant situation put before you.

  MISS MAMIE FORTESCUE’S DO’S AND DON’TS FOR CHAPERONES, GOVERNESSES, TUTORS, AND NURSES

  The old and magnificent Grand Hall had been favored with the first ball of the Season since it was built over half a century ago. This year was no exception for the famed building, which had been honored with the presence of kings, queens, emperors, and nobility from countries all over the world. When Esmeralda stepped inside, she’d gasped at the opulence of the décor. It far exceeded anything she’d ever seen.

  Keeping in the grand style of elegance, the vestibule had gilt-covered chairs with plush, rose-colored velvet cushions lining the walls and filling the beautifully appointed, scalloped alcoves. It was the perfect area for patrons wanting a reprieve from the music, c
hatter, and laughter of the guests. Couples could steal away for intimate conversations or gentlemen could conduct business discussions in privacy while the festivities continued in the main room.

  The ballroom glimmered with flickering candles that threw pale yellow light from corner to corner, windows to doors, and back again. A wide archway leading into the gathering place, where guests stopped briefly to be announced, had been decorated with greenery and pale blue, yellow, and violet flowers. Twelve Corinthian columns trussed with flowing ribbons hanging from their gilt-topped capitals were evenly dispersed around the spacious hall and appeared to be holding up the massive ceiling, which had been painted blue with floating white clouds to resemble a sky.

  Throughout the room, tall urns, short vessels, and small vases overflowed with spring’s most gorgeous blooms. Someone had somehow managed to produce a spectacular stone waterfall in the center of the room about the height of a man. It had also been adorned with flowers. On one side of the spacious area, the musicians were clustered closely together playing a lively tune. The dance floor was crowded with beautifully gowned ladies and splendidly dressed gents swinging, twirling, and clapping in time with the music.

  Along the back wall stood four white linen–draped tables. One was filled with sparkling glasses and what looked to be endless bottles of champagne and wine. The other three were laden with food. Gleaming, tiered silver trays were filled with such delicacies as stuffed mushrooms, smoked oysters, quail eggs, and small slices of ham and lamb. A variety of cooked vegetables, fruits, and breads topped another table. The fourth and largest overflowed with pastries, pies, tarts, and other mouthwatering treats for those wanting a taste of something sweet.

  The aromas of food and candle wax, sounds of the loud music, the drone of humming chatter and laughter, and the breeze whistling through the open doorways made everything about the room a feast for all the senses. Esmeralda found it impossible to take in the spectacle of it all at once.