Super Summer Set of Historical Shorts

by Laurel O'Donnell

  Suddenly his mood lifted, and, for the first time since his imminent return to London, he was looking forward to the next social engagement.

  Chapter 7

  Tabitha finally returned to her room after sending the dowager duchess’ dinner ensemble upstairs with her maid. It was an unassuming yet quietly attention-grabbing arrangement for the woman — a deep burgundy gown with a matching ostrich plume and a few strings of pearls. Mrs. McEwan had been beside herself in approval and had quickly shooed Tabitha away to prepare herself for dinner.

  Now, as Tabitha stood in front of the full-length mirror in her room and studied the woman in the reflection, she was suddenly unsure she would be able to manage what was tasked to her. She hardly recognized herself. The gown was exquisite and fit her perfectly. It was a sapphire blue with lace detail on the neckline and bodice. Mrs. McEwan, a bit of a master hairdresser herself, had swept Tabitha’s honey brown locks up into a beautiful knot at the back of her head and had quickly curled a few tendrils around her face.

  “Lovely,” she had murmured on her way out as Tabitha blushed. She was not exactly used to compliments and she certainly was not used to preening like a bird in the mirror.

  The matching gloves felt foreign to her as they stretched up to her elbows. She never wore gloves to dinner. What a fancy affair this “non-formal” dinner must really be.

  Giving herself one more glance, Tabitha giggled at the costume and reminded herself that it was all for a good cause.

  “One foot in front of the other,” she said gently to herself as a knock sounded at the door and she opened it.

  It was Anita.

  The maid smiled as she took in Tabitha’s transformation.

  “Lord Rutland is waiting for you, Miss,” she said, leading her down the hall to the small sitting room where Alexander stood.

  “Tabitha!” he exclaimed. “You are a vision.”

  “Thank you,” she said blushing.

  When they reached the dining room, they were announced and Alexander led Tabitha straight to the beautiful older woman currently wearing the very outfit Tabitha had painstakingly arranged earlier in the afternoon. Tabitha marveled at her work as Alexander spoke.

  “May I present to you, Miss Tabitha Kenmore, daughter of my father’s second cousin, Baron Charles Kenmore?”

  Tabitha curtseyed and held the Dowager Duchess of Stowe’s gaze as the older woman smiled politely.

  “It is wonderful to meet you,” the woman said kindly. “Any family to Alex is family to us. Are you settled in comfortably?”

  Tabitha nodded.

  “Yes, Your Grace, thank you for your hospitality,” she said as she stood. “Your home is lovely, and I appreciate you having me.”

  “And you have met my cousin, the Duke of Stowe,” said Alexander as the dark-haired Adonis bent over her hand.

  “Yes, it is a pleasure, Your Grace,” said Tabitha. “Thank you for inviting me into your home.”

  “I did not exactly invite you, Miss Kenmore,” he said, his eyes boring into hers. “But I thank you for joining us.”

  “Shall we settle in for dinner?” Alexander prodded, pulling Tabitha away from the duke and settling her in a seat beside the dowager duchess. He placed himself on the other side of her as more guests were arriving to be seated.

  Everyone else was already an acquaintance of the duke and the dowager duchess and no more introductions were necessary.

  “I’ll introduce you to all of the key players tomorrow as necessary,” Alexander whispered beside her. “Fortunately Lady Banon and her daughter Sabine will not arrive until later this evening, after dinner is over. For now, keep your eyes open and listen.”

  Tabitha nodded and did just that.

  * * *

  Nicholas climbed the stairs to his familiar bedchamber. His mother still occupied the rooms of the duchess, and Nicholas had not the heart or the desire to ask her to move so he could take up his father’s former residence. Before he could feel at peace in there, he would have it completely redone, shedding it of the pretentious decor his father had preferred and replacing it with the deep, rich colors with which he’d had his home in France redecorated.

  He was beginning to undress when the door creaked open.

  “I do not need your services tonight, Smith,” he said, assuming his manservant had come in to attend to him. “I shall be fine on my own.”

  It was not Smith, however.

  He spied a lady’s slipper teasing the door open, as long narrow fingers curled around the doorjamb.

  “Surprise,” came the coy whisper.

  “Sabine!” Nicholas exclaimed as she let herself into his bedchamber. “Whatever are you doing here?”

  “I’m here for the party, Your Grace,” she said, her eyes lowered as she looked up at him. “My mother and I arrived not long ago, and I thought perhaps we could have a private party of our own this evening.”

  “Sabine, please leave at once before you are discovered and your reputation ruined.”

  “Would that really be so bad?” she asked as she stepped up to him and began to run her fingers up his chest. “What could be the worst that could happen? You would have to marry me? We came close to that once, you know.”

  Nicholas caught her fingers in a firm grasp before they could progress any further.

  “That would be the worst that could happen, Sabine,” he said. “I had my reasons for breaking it off with you before leaving for France, and my reasons are unchanged. Now please go before you embarrass yourself any further.”

  With a pout, she turned at the door, pausing before opening it.

  “I shall see you in the morning, Your Grace,” she said, her flirtatious grin back. “Sleep well.”

  Nicholas sighed once she left. That woman would be the end of him — his reputation, his life should he have to marry her and spend it with her. Thankful he had gotten rid of her tonight, he vowed to stay as far away from her as possible come the morning.

  As he finally drifted off to sleep, it wasn’t Sabine he thought of, but a woman with violet eyes, honey brown hair, a waist he ached to wrap his hands around, and a face he pictured opening up to his with longing and curiosity.

  * * *

  Tabitha was reviewing the selection of the dowager duchess’ dresses before she went to bed, so she could determine the best accessories for the morning. With a sigh, she decided she was too exhausted from the day and the lack of sleep leading up to her stay at the Fairchild home, and began the walk back to her chamber.

  She was passing through the hallway when she heard the deep, rich voice of the duke. This must be his bedchamber, she thought. But whoever would he be talking to? She shrank back into the shadows as a door creaked open. Out came a young woman, her frosty blonde hair highlighted by the candles on the wall. She had a sure grin on her beautiful face as she slinked down the hallway, like a feline cat.

  So, Tabitha thought to herself, the duke hadn’t reformed his carefree ways after all. She was surprised at the prick of disappointment she felt as she continued down the hall. He had barely spoken a word to her — or anyone but his mother — throughout the dinner, sitting there stoically observing the guests. Determined to push thoughts of rakish dukes out of her mind, she found her chamber and looked forward to sleeping well in her plush surroundings tonight.

  Chapter 8

  Anita knocked on the door and had Tabitha up early the next morning to sort the dowager duchess’ wardrobes.

  Today was the big day.

  There was a brunch garden party at noon and a tea later in the afternoon. Tabitha had to survive two fancy parties and then she would likely be home back in her workshop, her stepmother hopefully none the wiser, by dinnertime.

  It could work. It would work. It had to.

  Hurrying through the hallways that led to Mrs. McEwan’s office, Tabitha guessed she and Anita were two of the only people awake in the house. The dresses in Mrs. McEwan’s office were on the hooks as usual, and Tabitha set to wor
k arranging and rearranging the perfect look for the dowager duchess. It had come to her as she drifted off to sleep.

  Brunch required less fuss and more simplicity, while still screaming status and class. Tabitha chose a sage green dress with daffodil yellow accents along the short sleeves. For the dowager duchess’ hair, Tabitha decided at the last minute to come up with a comb that would hold sprays of lace and small blossoms she had seen in the garden yesterday. Glad she’d had the forethought to bring a few of her supplies along with her, she snuck through the still-sleeping house toward the doors that led to the gardens. The sun was peeking through the horizon as she moved quietly through the plants in search of the very same delicate blossoms she’d spied the afternoon before.

  It took a few twists and turns before she arrived at the bench that Alexander had sat upon. Next to it, she found the small bush of flowers with the yellow petals she was looking for. Careful not to prick her fingers with the plant’s thorns, she got the flowers she required and dashed back toward the house.

  She was coming in through the garden doors when she collided with a solid figure. Arms came up to keep her from falling over, and her head snapped up, her eyes catching those of the duke.

  “Your Grace!” she exclaimed. “My apologies. I was — that is, I was just…”

  “Picking flowers from my garden?” he asked, his face serious but his eyes laughing.

  “Yes, I…well, that is…”

  “They would look lovely on you,” he said, “Pick as many as you like.”

  “Thank you, Your Grace,” she said. She turned to reenter the house when she could not stop herself from asking, “Did you sleep well, Your Grace?”

  “I did,” he replied with a look of question. “And you?”

  “Yes, thank you,” as she hurried around him, back through this house, feeling his gaze boring into her back.

  What a stupid thing to ask him, she thought to herself. What did it matter to her what he did with his nights? So the reformed rake was not reformed. Of course she found him attractive. So did every other female who laid eyes on him. At least, in her case, she knew better than to imagine anything further than a few exchanges of words. She rolled her eyes at herself and let her thoughts go as she prepared for brunch.

  * * *

  Dragon Woman was a better title for Lady Banon, Tabitha mused as she sat across the table from the woman herself and her preening, sharp-eyed daughter, Lady Sabine. Tabitha had to catch herself from showing any reaction to Sabine, whom she’d recognized immediately as the woman leaving the duke’s room the night before. She hoped for the dowager duchess’ sake that Sabine did not end up in the family.

  The introduction had been brief. Thankfully, Alexander had not wanted to interact with the duo any more than Tabitha had, but even in those few moments, Tabitha had been overwhelmed by the air of haughtiness and disdain the two carried themselves with. It was almost oppressive, and she was grateful for the chance to take her seat and sip her tea — anything to put as much space and household items between them and herself.

  Beside her, Alexander had struck up a conversation with an older gentleman whose name Tabitha had promptly forgotten, leaving her without a distraction and in the direct line of sight of Lady Banon. The woman was good looking, to be sure, but with the heavy application of powder and lip coloring, it was clear that she was trying desperately to hang on to the bloom of her youth instead of embracing the graceful aging a life well lived gave women like the dowager duchess.

  Hester Banon had graying hair that was poorly masked by dark powder that had congealed at her roots. Her flinty eyes danced from person to person seated at the table like a dagger while they all waited for the Duchess Gemma and her son, the Duke of Stowe.

  Tabitha winced at the memory of her grand introduction to the Duke of Stowe and their interaction this morning. What an amazing presence she must have come across as, skulking in dark corners and carrying around all manner of twigs and foliage from the outdoors.

  “Chin up, cousin,” Alexander said beside her. “Our hosts have arrived.”

  When the dowager duchess and the duke entered the dining room, everyone stood and waited for the Duchess Gemma to take her seat a few spaces beside Tabitha. The duke, it turned out, took the seat directly beside her, and she had a moment of panic in which she considered asking Alexander to switch with her. Granted, there would be no way to do such a thing without causing a scene, but the very presence of the imperious, scowling yet handsome man beside her was making her rethink her decision to be here at all.

  A few more hours, she reminded herself. Just a few more hours and she could return to her own life, where the villains were well known and obvious to her. In present company, it seemed one could never be quite certain who was friend and who was foe.

  “And where did you say you were from, Miss Kenmore?”

  Lady Banon wasted no time as soon as her hosts were present to start looking for the weakest victim in the crowd. Well, Tabitha was a lot of things, but she was not a victim. Her years with her stepmother had taught her that.

  “I did not say, actually, Lady Banon,” Tabitha replied with a sweet smile before turning her attention to a dish of vegetables Alexander was attempting to serve her. She didn’t miss the gasp of shock that the woman let out at being dismissed like that. However, she had no recourse because Tabitha’s attention was no longer on her, and she might appear desperate if she kept poking for information. Instead, her conversation turned to the duke.

  “Did you have a good time on the Continent, Your Grace?” She batted her eyelashes and clumps of makeup powder drifted down to the tablecloth. It was all Tabitha could do not to make a face.

  “Yes,” he said before piercing a piece of meat with a fork and stuffing it in his mouth. Tabitha waited for him to elaborate, but he obviously didn’t feel the need to. Suppressing a smile, she concentrated on her own food.

  “Dearest Duchess Gemma,” Lady Banon said with a cluck of her tongue. “What an extraordinary ornament in your hair. It is quite lovely.”

  The conversation paused as the diners glanced at the very comb that Tabitha had constructed earlier in the morning. It had turned out quite pretty and in the dowager duchess’ reddish brown hair, the blooms were striking.

  “Thank you, Hester,” the duchess replied kindly, but Tabitha saw the strain in the corners of her eyes.

  “But,” Lady Banon continued, knowing she had the table’s attention where she wanted it. “Those are not primrose blossoms, are they?”

  She chuckled at her own private joke, though most of the table wasn’t following.

  “Primroses, they say, represent folly,” Lady Banon continued to laugh. “What a silly thing to put on your head, do you not say?”

  Tabitha watched the color drain from the dowager duchess’ face at the insult and didn’t miss the tightening of the duke’s jaw.

  “Actually, Lady Banon,” Tabitha blurted out without thinking it through entirely. She did not really want to be in the woman’s crosshairs any more than she already was, but the old bat was just being mean. And this was, essentially, her reason to be here. “I believe those are a very rare blossom from the golden snowdrop. Which, as you obviously would know, symbolize a rebirth and a reawakening after a time of dormancy.”

  The allusion to coming out of a time of mourning had not been lost on Tabitha when she selected the flowers earlier, and if this baroness thought she knew flowers better than a milliner’s daughter did, she was sorely mistaken.

  The dowager duchess’ face brightened and the smile she gave Tabitha warmed her all the way to her toes. Why anybody, Dragon Woman and her dragon spawn included, would want to hurt her in any way was beyond Tabitha.

  Beside her, she watched the duke’s hands flex at his side, as though he were struggling to control his temper. His jaw ticked and flexed and his chest rose and fell as he looked at the women across the table from him. Tabitha didn’t know what to make of it given what she had seen last nigh
t.

  Lady Banon protested a bit too loudly at being incorrect and begged Duchess Gemma’s forgiveness with a little too much effort — all as fake as her heavily made up face. Tabitha also didn’t miss the icy glare Sabine gave her from the corner of her frosty blue eyes.

  Tabitha did her best to keep her smile hidden as she sipped at her soup.

  “Well played, cousin,” Alexander whispered beside her with a nudge of his elbow in her side. “Well played, indeed.”

  She chanced a glance at the duke and found him to be watching her with sudden fascination, as though she were the only person in the room. She smiled lamely and turned back to her soup.

  Brunch ended without further incidence and Alexander walked Tabitha back to her rooms.

  “Lady Banon and Sabine seem very fond of you,” Alexander said with a grin as he looked down at her. “Their disdain means you are doing your job well.”

  “Ha,” she scoffed. “I will never understand people like them. How bringing others down makes one feel at an advantage, I will never know. Alexander, you said the duke was not interested in Sabine…”

  “Yes?” he said, looking down at her quizzically. “Why would you think that he is?”

  “Well, last night, I was returning to my chambers and I—” She paused. Maybe it would be better not to say anything. “Never mind. It is none of my business.”

  “No, please, continue, I insist.”

  “I — I happened to see Sabine leaving his bedchamber. I do not mean to be a gossip but I feel that protecting the Duchess Gemma would mean keeping someone like that from her family. Please, Alexander, do not say anything.”

  Alexander surprised her by laughing.