The Regency Season

by Ann Lethbridge

  She would do her duty to the dukedom, as she always had done her duty. But no force on earth could make her show anything but martyrdom as she did it. A problem looming on the horizon. The woman’s negativity would lend the perfect excuse to Minette’s diffidence about the wedding. Something he would have to work hard to counter, when he hadn’t yet managed to overcome his fiancée’s objections.

  Meanwhile, he needed to find out who else was clumsily trying to put a hand on Moreau’s collar. He didn’t want the Home Office or anyone else queering his pitch.

  He had been surprised by Minette’s acceptance of his word that it was not him or his men stomping around and poking their noses into finding Madame Vitesse’s brother. He had discovered the man’s last name. Every foreigner who entered the country had to register with the Department of Aliens and one Henri Latour was no different. But that was all they had done or would do—unless Madame Vitesse did not provide the information she’d promised.

  To his relief, the ladies were ready and waiting in the drawing room at Gabe’s town house.

  ‘You recall Lady Priscilla and Miss Bernice,’ Minette said, the light of mischief in her eyes.

  ‘How could I ever forget you, Lady Priscilla?’ he said, bowing, ‘or you, Miss Bernice.’

  ‘Too kind,’ the companion murmured with a quick nervous glance at his face.

  ‘I am grateful you were able to indulge us this afternoon and become one of our party or we would have had to cancel,’ Freddy continued. ‘Since I understand Lady Mooreshead had another engagement.’

  ‘One of long standing,’ Minette said.

  Long-standing as of the day before yesterday. It mattered not one whit who accompanied Minette, provided he had an opportunity to spend time in her company and convince her that she desired to be wed. As long as those occasions were in places where he wouldn’t be led any further astray by his lust for the woman. Uncontrolled desire came with unfortunate consequences, like children.

  ‘Are we ready?’

  ‘Nicky wondered if we should put up a picnic basket,’ Minette said.

  ‘All looked after.’

  Minette gave him a brilliant smile, and he found himself wanting to nip at her full bottom lip as a reminder to keep that smile only for him. Damn it all, when had he ever been possessive about a woman?

  Not with any other woman. The thought echoed in his mind. He decided to ignore it. Their engagement wasn’t about possession or about passion and it would be wrong to let her think it was anything more. It would be not only dishonourable but cruel. He’d been acquainted with the cruelty of false hope all his life.

  He helped the ladies into his carriage, seating the Sparshott party facing forward and Minette next to him on the opposite side.

  ‘Oh,’ said Miss Bernice, clearly dismayed. ‘I should change places with Miss Rideau. It is not right for me to face forward.’

  ‘Nonsense,’ Minette said. ‘I understand you do not travel well.’

  ‘You are too kind,’ the governess said, ‘but I feel I really should insist.’

  Freddy looked down his nose at the young woman in his best imitation of duke bored to death. ‘I can assure you I have no ungentlemanly intentions towards my fiancée, Miss Bernice.’

  The poor woman gasped.

  ‘Freddy,’ Minette said admonishingly. ‘Take no notice, Miss Bernice. He is putting you to the blush because he is trying to be nice to you.’ She gazed up at him. ‘Isn’t that so?’

  ‘When did you become an expert on my intentions?’ Then he smiled at the governess. ‘Miss Rideau is correct. But you can blame her for my consideration. When she wrote to tell me of your acceptance of my invitation, she mentioned your affliction. And while it may be more proper for you to sit beside me in the polite world, I prefer you not be made unwell, with all its attendant difficulties.’

  ‘Enough, Freddy,’ Minette said. She smiled at Miss Bernice. ‘Please, make yourself comfortable, ma’am. It is only a very short journey and I will not speak of our unusual arrangement if you will not.’

  Lady Priscilla beamed. ‘Poor, dear Bernie. She really is the worst of travellers. And she is very grateful for your kindness.’

  The woman gave up with good grace. ‘You are very kind, Your Grace. Thank you.’

  ‘Have you ever attended a cricket match, Miss Rideau?’ Lady Priscilla asked.

  ‘I played once,’ Minette said. ‘On the lawn at Meak one summer. I have to admit I had trouble understanding the rules.’

  ‘I expect His Grace will instruct you,’ Miss Bernice said.

  ‘Will you, Freddy?’ Minette asked, her eyes full of laughter.

  ‘I think between us, Lady Priscilla, who has three brothers, and myself, we should be able to make things clear.’

  ‘Three brothers?’ Minette said.

  ‘I know,’ Lady Priscilla said with a sigh. ‘Such a trial. They are so overprotective.’

  ‘Were they concerned about you coming with me today?’ Freddy asked, the darkness inside him rising up.

  ‘Oh, no. They trust Bernie to keep me in line, don’t they, dearest?’

  The little woman shoved her glasses up her nose, looking terribly unsure.

  If they thought a timid companion could handle him, Freddy thought grimly, they were idiots. Which they weren’t. He’d met the Sparshott twins and their older brother. He had no doubt at all that he’d find them at Lord’s Cricket Ground, glowering at him in case he put a foot wrong with their sister.

  The carriage pulled up, and he jumped down. ‘This way, ladies. I have bespoken chairs for us.’

  Being a duke carried responsibility, but it also had advantages he had, up to now, not utilised. Partly because the opportunity had not arisen, given his current line of work, and partly because he always felt like an impostor. A fraud. No matter what his mother thought, he hated having inherited his brother’s title. He’d been set for a career in the army but once he had become heir to the title, his father had made sure no colonel would accept him. Losing one son was enough. If it had been because he’d been worried about Freddy, it might have mollified him, but it had only been out of concern for the succession. Mother, on the other hand, would have been very happy to send him off to war, never to return.

  Knowing that, if not for Gabe’s offer of employment he might have enlisted as a common soldier, he’d hated the ducal duties so much. The paperwork. The political manoeuvring. The criticism when he failed to live up to his brother’s memory.

  He shut the door on those useless thoughts. On the past. As time had progressed he’d come to understand that he would never be forgiven for being the one left alive. He’d learned to enclose his pain and guilt in a layer of ice.

  He was Falconwood. For as long as he lived. And awaiting him and his guests were tables and chairs set beneath a shady tree with attendant footmen. ‘You should have a good view from here,’ he said as he seated the ladies. ‘Champagne?’

  ‘Yes, please,’ Minette and Lady Priscilla said together.

  ‘Oh, dear,’ Miss Bernice said. ‘I really don’t think—’

  ‘How about tea for you?’ He gave her a gentle smile.

  Her frown turned into an expression of heartfelt gratitude. ‘Thank you.’

  He signalled to the footman, who smartly went about the business of catering to the ladies’ wishes.

  ‘I don’t see The Beau,’ Minette said, scanning the field.

  ‘No,’ Freddy said. ‘Hampshire is at bat.’

  She wrinkled her nose, staring at the two men at the crease in what he was becoming to think of as a kittenish expression. It made him want to kiss her every time she did it.

  ‘He is playing for Hampshire county cricket team and he is in the clubhouse,’ Lady Priscilla elaborated further. ‘Only two people are at bat at any one time.’

  Minette seemed satisfied with the explanation and sat back to watch, with the occasional explanation from either Lady Priscilla or himself when terms like ‘bowled’ and ‘stumped�
�� came up.

  The buzz of insects, the crack of the bat, the shouts of ‘Huzzah’ and polite applause of the ladies washed over him in a wave of nostalgia. It was such a familiar scene. He and Reggie had played on the local village team that last year. Happy memories he hadn’t recalled for years.

  And if it hadn’t been for his engagement, he might never have experienced them again, so focussed had he become on the darkness of what he did. He glanced at his betrothed, at her lively, beautiful face as she listened to something Lady Priscilla was explaining, and felt wonder at the feeling of the rightness of the day. Perhaps he could have this for the rest of his life.

  Deserved or not.

  Once he had served the ladies, the footman handed Freddy a glass of champagne. He lowered himself to the ground, his back to the tree, and settled in to enjoy watching his fiancée try to understand the rules of play.

  ‘Oh, well caught, sir,’ he called out, along with several others at a particularly good catch.

  Minette glanced over at him with a smile. ‘You like this game.’

  It wasn’t really a question, but he answered anyway. ‘I do.’

  ‘Do you also belong to a team?’

  It was an innocent enough question, but it meant more than she might have guessed because she didn’t see any reason why he might not belong to a team. The villagers hadn’t minded his lameness, either. He may not have been a fast runner but he could hit, and had a good eye when it came to catching. He grinned at her. Yes, he was actually grinning. ‘Dukes have their dignity to maintain, you know.’

  She laughed. ‘Lazybones.’

  Out of the corner of his eye he noticed the companion twitching anxiously. Looking as if she felt the need to set the record straight, to defend him from the accusation of laziness and attribute it to his lame leg. His grin died.

  ‘Oh, look!’ Minette said. ‘That is Monsieur Brummell. I really thought it was a tease to get me to come with you today.’

  Brummell strode out onto the pitch to a round of applause and a few catcalls. As usual he looked cool and elegant.

  ‘How on earth did they convince him to take part?’ Lady Priscilla asked. ‘I heard he hates any form of violent exercise.’

  They watched in silent awe as the arbiter of fashion made run after run, reaching a grand total of twenty-three before he was finally caught. The man was good. He bowed to the applause that broke out as he left.

  During the interval, the servants served delicacies designed to please the ladies—cucumber sandwiches and little cakes, along with more champagne and a fresh pot of tea.

  ‘It is all so very English,’ Minette said, glancing over at him with a challenging look.

  ‘Is that good or bad?’

  ‘Très bon,’ she said in a decided way that gave him a sense of great contentment he found unexpected. She frowned. ‘There is a man over there, he keeps looking this way.’

  He kept his voice low, for her ears only. ‘He’s probably wishing he was here instead of me, given my lovely companions.’

  She sat up a little straighter. ‘Are you flirting with me, Freddy?’

  ‘Is it not the duty of a fiancé to flirt with his intended?’

  The kittenish look reappeared. ‘Now you really are teasing.’ She smiled at him, and something inside him contracted.

  It wasn’t lust, though there was always an undercurrent of that whenever she was nearby, it was about liking. Not something he had ever expected. On a day like today, it was too easy to imagine living this sort of life of easy companionship, mutual respect perhaps even— No. That was too much to ask. This marriage was all about maintaining the proprieties and keeping Gabe’s friendship. It would only ever be one small facet of his life, of necessity.

  ‘He’s coming over,’ Minette said.

  Arthur. A cold fist settled in his gut. He rose to his feet. ‘Cousin,’ he said as the man reached them.

  ‘I hear congratulations are in order,’ Arthur said, his expression sour.

  ‘Thank you, cuz. I did not expect to see you here today.’

  ‘Liz’s idea,’ his cousin said, kicking at a tuft of grass.

  Ah, yes. Liz would have been shocked to her toes at the news. Freddy couldn’t help feeling a little twinge of satisfaction. Not that his impending marriage would alter the line of inheritance at all, but it might shake Liz out of her complacency.

  ‘May I introduce you to my betrothed, Mademoiselle Rideau, her friend, Lady Priscilla, and her companion, Miss Bernice? Authur Stone. My cousin.’

  Arthur bowed low over the two young ladies’ hands and gave Miss Bernice a brief nod. It was without question the appropriate greeting, but Minette bristled. Once she knew Arthur, she would understand that his cousin had little or no self-esteem and, therefore, establishing the order of precedence was of prime importance.

  ‘It is delightful to meet a member of Freddy’s family,’ Minette said, dipping a curtsey. ‘You are the first.’

  ‘I was at Gosport’s ball,’ Arthur said with a disapproving frown, ‘though it did not seem quite the right time for introductions.’

  Minette raised a questioning brow.

  Arthur rocked on his heels, his ears turning pink. ‘I had another engagement.’

  No doubt he had scuttled off to confer with his wife.

  Minette smiled and said nothing.

  ‘Are the boys here?’ Freddy asked, looking around. ‘And Liz?’

  ‘No. I am here with a friend.’ He winced. ‘Didn’t expect to see you here, old chap, cricket not being your sort of thing.’ More foot-shuffling. ‘Do you think we can have a word in private?’

  ‘It looks as if the match is about to start again,’ Lady Priscilla said.

  The players were striding onto the field, talking and laughing, with Beau Brummell in their midst. They separated to take up their various positions. With the attention now focussed on play, Arthur leaned closer. ‘About this engagement of yours. Do you think it is such a good idea?’

  ‘I don’t think it is any of your business, actually,’ Freddy said, smiling.

  Arthur flinched. ‘There is the business of the accident.’ He glanced around and lowered his voice still further. ‘New information might come to light at any time. No statute of limitations, and that sort of thing.’

  Freddy turned to face him square on, his anger icy in his veins. Arthur had always sworn he’d seen nothing of the accident. ‘Have you regained your memory, then?’

  The other man turned back to the game. ‘I was a boy. I panicked. But in hindsight there are things I remember. Perhaps.’

  Freddy’s hand curled into fists. This was Liz’s work, no doubt. ‘Go to hell, Arthur. Whatever scandal arises will taint you, too, you know.’

  Arthur shrivelled in on himself. ‘You should think about it, though,’ he said. ‘That’s all. Think about it.’

  Freddy wanted to strangle him. Or Liz. Or both of them together. But they were his family. And he’d already been the death of one member of it. ‘Tell Liz she has nothing to fear with regard to the succession.’

  A shout went up and he turned his head to see a ball heading straight at his party. An excellent hit over the boundary. He stretched out a hand and caught it to a burst of applause.

  ‘Well caught, sir,’ someone yelled.

  He threw it back to the bowler, who bowed his thanks. Meanwhile, the batsman was awarded six runs.

  He glanced around. Arthur, the sniveller, had taken the opportunity to scuttle off and was now talking to a group a little distance away, but he must have felt Freddy’s gaze on him because he half turned and gave a terse nod of understanding. It seemed he was content to accept Freddy’s word, for now.

  ‘Freddy,’ Minette said, smiling at him over her shoulder. ‘I cannot believe you caught that ball. They will surely ask you to join their team.’

  The bitterness inside him escaped his control. ‘No. They won’t. I can’t run.’ And everyone knew it. Half of them had been at school with him.

/>   Her expression of shock at his harsh words followed quickly by the look of pity in her lovely brown eyes only made him feel worse.

  Damn it all. He never whined about his foot. ‘And as I told you, dukes are far too important to be playing silly games. I invited you because you need to know about one of England’s most important institutions.’

  The ice coating his voice must have reached her as her back straightened. The smile disappeared. ‘You are right.’ She turned away from him and addressed a remark to Lady Priscilla.

  He didn’t hear what she said for the angry rush of blood in his ears.

  Curse Arthur. If he really knew something, why had he never mentioned it before? He was bluffing. Applying pressure.

  And with that sort of thing in the wind, the thought of Minette meeting Mother made him feel physically ill.

  Chapter Eight

  While Freddy had maintained an outward calm and the rest of the afternoon had been enjoyable, it was perfectly clear to Minette he had withdrawn inside himself. Leaving only a walking, talking, icy shell.

  The guilt of her careless words weighed her down, but it wasn’t until after they had deposited Priscilla and her companion on the Sparshott doorstep and the carriage had moved off again that she dared to broach the subject. ‘I beg your pardon. When I said about you joining the team, I forgot about your leg. I did not mean to cause you embarrassment.’

  ‘You didn’t.’ His voice was shards of ice grating down her spine.

  Oh, the man was too infuriating. ‘Then why are you being so distant?’

  He blinked. And something more humane appeared in his dark blue gaze. ‘I apologise. I was thinking about something someone said.’

  A flash of light went off in her brain. ‘Your cousin. He said something that upset you, didn’t he?’ She pressed a hand to her stomach to still the sense of unease she felt.

  His expression shuttered.