Four Dukes and a Devil

by Cathy Maxwell

  Four Dukes and a Devil

  Cathy Maxwell

  Elaine Fox

  Jeaniene Frost

  Sophia Nash

  Tracy Anne Warren

  Contents

  The Irish Duke

  Cathy Maxwell

  About Cathy Maxwell

  The Duke Who Came to Dinner

  Elaine Fox

  About Elaine Fox

  Devil to Pay

  Jeaniene Frost

  About Jeaniene Frost

  Catch of the Century

  Sophia Nash

  About Sophia Nash

  Charmed By Her Smile

  Tracy Anne Warren

  About Tracy Anne Warren

  Other Books by Cathy Maxwell, Elaine Fox, Jeaniene Frost, Sophia Nash and Tracy Anne Warren

  Copyright

  About the Publisher

  The Irish Duke

  Cathy Maxwell

  Chapter One

  But what about love?" Miss Susan Rogers had anticipated Lady Theresa Alberth’s question. It was the mental inclination of young women nowadays. She understood because she’d also once believed love was the only true concern when it came to marriage. But now, at six-and-twenty and firmly established as a spinster, she knew differently.

  Lady Theresa was Lord and Lady Alberth’s only child. They sat on chairs next to their daughter and turned to Susan as if they, too, needed an answer.

  Susan set her cup and saucer on the side table next to her chair. She knew her role. It was to convince Lady Theresa to obey her parents’ wishes.

  “Love is important,” Susan agreed, very certain of herself and her message. After all, she’d given this lecture numerous times over just the last week as anxious parents with willful daughters had sought out her services. “But is it more important than compatibility? Than security? You will have children someday, Lady Theresa. What do you hope for them?”

  A small frown line appeared between Lady Theresa’s brows.

  “I’m not going to tell you,” Susan continued, “that it is as easy to love a wealthy man as it is a poor one. Or that you have obligations to your family line. I’m certain your parents have already told you all that.”

  Lady Theresa nodded, her expression tense. Lady Alberth had confided in Susan earlier that their daughter believed herself in love with their land steward’s son, a Mr. Gerald Grover. They were hiring Susan to convince her differently. They wanted a good family for their daughter, and a title.

  “What they say is true,” Susan said matter-of-factly. “However, that doesn’t change how one feels when one is in love.”

  “Yes,” Lady Theresa agreed, half-sobbing the word.

  Susan leaned forward, reaching for Lady Theresa’s hand. The girl gave it to her. “I’m going to advise you to remember that love must be tested. It can be a liar, a thief.”

  Lady Theresa shook her head, but Susan pressed on. “Let me tell you my story. I was once in love. I would have willingly sacrificed everything for him. He said he loved me, too, and we were to marry. One week before the wedding, both of my parents died in a coaching accident.”

  “Oh, dear,” Lady Alberth said. Her husband’s expression had gone grim. Lady Theresa listened, that frown between her brows deepening as she placed herself in Susan’s position.

  “My two younger sisters and I were alone,” Susan said. “The estate went to a cousin, who did not want the responsibility of us. My betrothed had told me he loved me. It was only natural I turned to him in this difficult situation. He said everything would be fine, but on the day of our wedding, he didn’t appear for the ceremony.”

  “You were left at the altar?” Lady Alberth asked.

  Susan nodded. “Publicly humiliated.” The words no longer embarrassed her. She’d said them too often…to other girls…in front of other parents. “You see, my gentleman had been informed an hour before we were to be wed that my cousin refused to pay my dowry. He had other plans for the money.” She gave Lady Theresa’s hand a squeeze. “Don’t be foolish as I was. Is it so much for your parents to ask you to participate in one Season? Is your love so fragile it would not survive a few parties, a couple of balls?”

  Lady Theresa looked to her parents. “Does that mean I may marry Gerald if I go through a Season?”

  “The lad is unsuitable—” her father started.

  “You must follow my guidelines,” Susan said, directing her comment to Lady Theresa but boldly cutting her father off. No good came from arguing with a young woman who thought she was in love.

  To his credit, Lord Alberth shut up.

  “If you believe in love, then this young man—what is his name?”

  “Gerald,” Lady Theresa said.

  “If Gerald is the one, nothing will sway your love for him, but you will be certain,” Susan assured her. “There is much at stake. I’m certain you wish to please your parents. And you don’t want to look back in life and wish you’d had the fun and excitement of at least one Season. Just one.”

  Lady Theresa nodded solemnly. The frown line was still there.

  Susan smiled. “So, will you join me? Just for this Season?”

  Again, Lady Theresa nodded.

  “You will enjoy yourself immensely,” Susan promised.

  “I shall endeavor to try,” she said, directing her vow toward her anxious parents. “I will.”

  “That’s all we can ask, kitten,” her father said.

  Lady Theresa stood. “If you will excuse me?”

  Her parents nodded. Lady Theresa gave a graceful nod to Susan and left the room.

  “Well done,” Lord Alberth said, when his daughter was out of earshot. “We’ve been attempting to bring her to this conclusion for weeks.”

  “She is very much ‘in love,’” Susan observed.

  “They all are at this age,” Lady Alberth said. “I blame myself for not having been more vigilant over her when she was around Gerald Grover.”

  “They played together as children,” her husband said dismissively. “You couldn’t have seen it coming. After all, we thought we’d raised her better than this.”

  “Is Mr. Grover a bad sort?” Susan asked.

  “No, he isn’t. But he’s not suitable,” Lord Alberth said, and that was that. He changed the subject. “You handled her very well, Miss Rogers. And you come to us highly recommended. However, I do have a concern about your fee.”

  “My fee is not negotiable, my lord. Over the past four years, I have seen not only to the marriages of my sisters to respected, highly placed men—” She did not need to add the word “wealthy.” It was assumed. “—But also the marriages of several of your peers’ daughters. Lady Theresa is not the first girl to be in love with an unsuitable man at the beginning of the Season and wed to a suitable man by the conclusion of it. With my guidance, of course.”

  “Of course,” Lord Alberth said, still sounding unconvinced.

  “And Miss Rogers knows a great deal, my lord,” Lady Alberth chimed in, “that not even we know. Matters I wouldn’t have thought of.”

  “Such as?” he asked.

  Lady Alberth shot Susan a bright smile. “Tell him about the Irish Duke.”

  The “Irish Duke” was turning out to be a very fine selling point for Susan’s services. It exhibited her complete knowledge of the Rules of Society. Several weeks ago she’d discovered an odd bit in the Order of Precedence, the list that determined ceremonial importance for the peers of the Realm.

  She now explained to Lord Alberth. “You would be pleased if your daughter married a duke.”

  “Very pleased.”

  “But what if I told you not all dukes are the same? For example, in the Order of Precedence, the Irish Duke will always be at the end
of the line.”

  Lord Alberth frowned. He had the same frown line between his brow as his daughter.

  “For state dinners,” Susan assured him, “the Irish Duke and his duchess will sit at the foot of the table if there is no one but dukes in attendance. They will be the last to enter to pay their addresses to the King and the last to be admitted to any ceremonial function. Is that what you wish for your daughter, my lord? To be last?”

  “Of course not.”

  “I thought not,” Susan agreed. “And that is where my services are most appreciated. I will steer your daughter away from the Irish Duke. I will keep her safe from his attentions.” She didn’t add that there were only two Irish dukes in the world and both safely tucked away in Ireland. Besides, one’s title had been attainted for plotting rebellion and the other was so old, a wife would have been useless to him.

  “Let us also remember how good Miss Rogers was in handling Theresa,” Lady Alberth reminded him.

  Susan could see his reluctance and held her breath. The very well respected Lord Alberth was not a man who liked to spend money. But with a commission from him, there was no telling what wealthy doors might open to her. She might finally be able to afford a small house on Beech Street and a few other creature comforts—

  “Yes, very well,” his lordship said. “Didn’t know about the Irish Duke. I don’t want my daughter last at anything. Besides, I’ve never been fond of the Irish. Keep the fellow and that dratted lad Grover away from my daughter,” he ordered, rising.

  “I will, my lord,” Susan said, also coming up to stand. Keeping unwelcome suitors away from precious daughters was all part of her services. “Thank you for your trust in me.”

  Lord Alberth grunted a response and left the room. It was left to Lady Alberth to clap her hands, and say happily, “I can’t wait to tell Claire Bollinger that we, too, have hired you. She thought she was so special, but now, we’ll see which daughter marries first.”

  She and Susan finished the arrangements. Her fee would be paid at the end of the Season, with a bonus if Lady Theresa married a “suitable” gentleman.

  Susan was quite pleased with herself when the butler escorted her to the door, and she went out into the damp February afternoon—until she saw the coach and footman waiting for her.

  For a second, Susan was tempted to go the other way, but knew it would be useless. The coat of arms on the door told her it was her sister Ellen this time.

  Susan went down the steps and walked to the coach door a footman held open for her. She climbed in, not surprised when her sister launched into her without preamble.

  “What were you doing at Lord Alberth’s? Susan, don’t tell me you were peddling yourself to the Earl of Alberth?”

  “Fine, I won’t.” Susan reached for the door handle.

  Ellen grabbed her arm. They were three years apart, Susan being the oldest. They were both honey blondes who looked enough alike with their gold-brown eyes for people to think them twins, except that the cut of Ellen’s clothes was far more expensive than Susan’s.

  “I didn’t mean it that way,” Ellen snapped.

  Susan shrugged.

  Her brows coming together in consternation, Ellen said, “You must stop this. You mustn’t keep going around amongst people of Dodgin’s set and offering yourself for hire.” Dodgin was her husband, Lord Dodgin. He was some twenty years older than Ellen and a rather strict man. Susan hadn’t realized how strict when she’d arranged Ellen’s marriage to him. She’d feared Ellen would be miserable. Instead, Ellen had turned out to be just like him.

  “I have no choice, Ellen. I must support myself.”

  “We’ve offered you room.”

  “In the country,” Susan objected. “And with the role of playing companion to Dodgin’s eldest sister. No, thank you.”

  “I can’t believe you are so ungrateful—”

  “I can’t believe you’ve forgotten everything I’ve done for you. I sold everything we had to bring you and Jane to London. I took care of you. Without me, the three of us would still be penniless in Little Hereford.”

  “And we do appreciate you,” Ellen assured her. “If I could return the favor, I would. However, Dodgin doesn’t want my spinster sister idling around. You know how he is.”

  “I’ve learned. And I’ve learned how Jane and Sir Alec are, too. I refuse to be a charity case in my own family. I value my independence, Ellen, and you’d best warn Dodgin to become accustomed to hearing my name in his circles. This Season will make me a success, especially after I find a husband for Lord Alberth’s daughter, and you’d all best come to peace with it.”

  “We’ll do everything we can to stop you,” Ellen answered.

  “You may try your best,” Susan responded, and opened the door. She climbed out of the coach, refusing the footman’s hand, and marched down the street, head held high for the first time in years.

  Chapter Two

  Two weeks later…

  It’s the Irish Duke.”

  “What’s he doing here?”

  “I don’t know. I was certain Bollinger told me he was not invited.”

  “Ummm, the Irish Duke.”

  Susan heard the rush of excited whispers around the ballroom floor. They were saying something about an Irish duke, but she wasn’t certain she was hearing correctly because she was far too preoccupied searching for Lady Theresa.

  The girl was a trial. Her beloved Gerald had followed her to London, and he was most adept at sneaking his way into every social occasion. The only time Susan hadn’t caught sight of him was when Lady Theresa and several of her other charges were presented at Court—and that was probably only because Susan wasn’t there herself.

  He wasn’t completely unrespectable. In fact, he was rather handsome and had a charm about him. It was also obvious he was madly and completely in love with Lady Theresa.

  Gerald had shown up at the ball this evening. Last night at the Barrington ball, the young couple had wanted to dance, and it had taken all of Susan’s persuasive powers to convince them a public spectacle would only make Lady Theresa’s father angrier. Reluctantly, they had agreed she was right, but Gerald wouldn’t leave until he knew he could spend a few minutes with Lady Theresa sometime over the next few days. Before Susan knew what she was doing, she found herself agreeing to chaperone Lady Theresa for a rendezvous.

  It was a devil of a promise and one Susan knew she’d have to renege on. She’d feel bad for doing so. She liked Lady Theresa, and Gerald seemed the sort of man who would make a good husband. If only he had money or prestige—

  A tingling at the nape of her neck brought her thoughts to a halt. Some inner sense warned her that something was amiss. She didn’t experience it often, but when she did, she paid attention. She prayed it wasn’t a disaster with Lady Theresa or one of her other eight charges.

  Susan turned, looking around the crowded room for the reason her every sense had gone alert—and then she saw him.

  For a second she could barely think, let alone move.

  A tall, dark-haired man with a square, masculine jaw, broad, broad shoulders was staring at her with such intensity it was as if his gaze reached across the distance between them and touched her. He was the most handsome man she’d ever laid eyes on.

  She knew she should look away, but she couldn’t.

  Feelings she’d long thought dead to her forever, feelings of desire and lust and yearning, reared their ugly heads and reminded her she was still young, still alive.

  And it wasn’t just his looks that attracted her. There was a presence about him that seemed to make all other men fade in comparison, a presence that made her feel vulnerable, something she’d vowed she’d never let happen again—

  “Miss Rogers, please don’t be upset with me, but it was my brother who brought the Irish Duke to the ball. Miss Rogers? Miss Rogers, are you all right?”

  Susan had to give herself a little shake to make Miss Arabella Riggins’s nasal voice make sense. The young
woman, a slender, fluffy blonde who often acted completely helpless, stood before her, hands clasped in worry.

  “I’m fine,” Susan said, knowing she sounded a bit dazed. “I just had something else on my mind. What were you saying? Something about someone’s coming to the ball?” She glanced over her shoulder and was disappointed to see that the dark-haired gentleman no longer stood where she’d last seen him, and there was no time to search for him because Miss Arabella was prattling on again.

  “The Irish Duke, Miss Rogers. I didn’t know Archibald was going to bring him, or I would have warned you.”

  The Irish Duke? Susan shook her head. “Miss Arabella, please don’t worry. There is no Irish duke here tonight.” Because there is no Irish duke in England.

  “Oh, but there is,” Miss Arabella assured her. “I know because he is a friend of my brother.”

  Susan thought Miss Arabella a bit of a silly goose, but making up an Irish duke was behaving beyond goosey.

  And then their hostess, the silver-haired Lady Bollinger, skillfully slid up to Susan to say, with a smile on her face but desperation in her eyes, “I had to admit him. He and my husband are friends. I pray you to forgive me. I didn’t send him an invitation, but he is here all the same.”

  “Who’s he?” Susan asked, confused.

  “The Irish Duke,” Lady Bollinger said, the purple plumes in her hair shaking with her agitation.

  “You mean, there is an Irish duke?” Susan said.

  “Of course there is,” Lady Bollinger answered. “You knew that. You told us about him. The Duke of Killeigh. You’ve warned all of us against him.”

  “We’ve attempted to do everything we could to avoid him,” Miss Arabella said. “But he is on a hunt for a wife. Lady Elizabeth had to run from the room last night at Lord and Lady Barrington’s ball or else she would have been forced to take the floor with him.”

  “Run from the room? Away from a duke?” Susan was stunned. That was shocking behavior. Her charges should not behave that way, but then where had she been last night when all this was going on—?