An Apple Pie for a Duke (9 page)

Why
does she even listen to his gibberish? His horse tells him stories!
Bedlam's calling!

“
That's
what my horse believed, at first. But it turned out to be a
book-club.”

“
A
book-club?” Again, Flora had not managed to keep her mouth shut.

The
Duke proceeded unperturbed. “Yes, charming little get-together with
cider and apple pie, rolling around in the straw, dramatising the
content of the book in question. An excellent apple pie, my horse
insists.”

“
Your
horse joined the book-club, then?” Flora asked with a tinge of
sarcasm.

“
Oh
yes, oh yes. The pirate was very welcoming. Only when he found out
that the horse was in fact
my
horse, he was
terrified!”

“
Aha?”
Lady Cartwright pursed her lips.

“
Yes!
That pirate had, so it seems, encountered me in one of my less
decorous moments and hence feared retribution. Must've been at a
place called Hayford where I'd threatened to finish off the heir.”

“
HAYFORD?”
Lady Cartwright gasped.

The
duke nodded gravely.

“
Retribution?”
Lady Parker asked. “But what for?”

“
For
corrupting the equestrian diet, of course. This horse is an athlete,
you understand. Sugary pies are not at all beneficial to him. The
pirate was very knowledgeable on the subject and justly feared my
wroth. Unspeakable punishments I would administer, he was sure of it.
The poor pirate would dwell in eternal agony. He dramatically offered
himself to be my slave for the rest of his life if it saved him from
the gruesome penalties awaiting him in my dungeons.”

“
Oh,
did he?” Lady Cartwright had stopped patting Eugenia and looked at
her with raised eyebrows.

Eugenia
bit her lip and nodded, her skin a dark shade of violet.

“
Well,
I couldn't vouch for the accuracy of my horse's account. If any horse
could be accused of verbosity, it would be mine. --- But forgive me,
I can't linger, I have an appointment in the city.”

He
looked at Eugenia gravely for a while. Then he drew a deep breath. “I
shall call on you tomorrow afternoon, Miss Cartwright. I hope to find
you recovered from your illness, by then. As far as I understand, a
certain Mr. Wimple's life may depend on it. You'd better inform him
of the imminent danger to his person.”

He
clicked his tongue and the magnificent stallion sped away.

Eugenia
breathed out with a loud “pah” and remained in just that
position, her mouth hanging open.

“
What
was all that about?” Flora asked.

Eugenia
stared at her seemingly unable to operate her jaws.

Lady
Cartwright leaned back and closed her eyes. “Smelling salts,” she
pleaded.

Flora's
mother immediately obliged. “There, there, dearest Mary. I
understand you must be disturbed by the news. And your little girl so
confused, too. There you thought it was only a digestive problem and
here comes the duke with some unhinged story about a talking horse
and all of a sudden he tells you your beloved Mr. Wimple may be
terminally ill! But even if his demise should be at hand, my dear,
you must always remember he's had a long and happy life. I only saw
him once but I found him an exceptionally charming dog.”

13.

Halfmoon
Street, one hour later

“
I
believe you're safely in the nursery! Instead you're reading
hair-raising adventure novels with Lizzy. In the stable! How did you
get hold of that shameful scribbling anyway?”

He
wants to marry me. But he doesn't want to get married. He said so, I
heard it myself!

“
I
suppose you found it somewhere in the house. I guess it was a gift by
some old hag from the village. --- My, my. I thought I'd arranged it
all myself, shoving you into his carriage. I thought I'd reeled in
the greatest catch of the century. No! Far from it! My sheltered
daughter did it all by herself masquerading and behaving like a
slattern! I still can't believe it. We're very lucky the duke is a
man of peculiar tastes, my dear. I don't think anybody else would
have married you.”

He
wants to marry me? But he doesn't want to get married!

“
What
happened in that carriage?”

He
said: “I don't have the slightest intention of getting married.”

“
Never
mind. I'd hoped to comprise him into marrying you anyway. He's the
most handsome man in England, vastly rich and cultivated. He owns a
beautiful castle in Italy where I plan to move once you father is no
more.”

Maybe
he's playing a trick on me to punish me for my terrible behaviour in
the carriage.

“
When
he stormed into the bookshop that day I thought it was a gift from
heaven! I couldn't have known you'd already volunteered to be his
slave and he only came in to claim you...”

“
Mother,”
Gigi cried for the umpteenth time. “I didn't know he was there!”

“
One
must always expect the unexpected, child, always! --- To swear on Mr.
Wimple's life. Shame on you! The poor beast. As if he weren't
afflicted enough by his digestion! --- It doesn’t matter. His Grace
hasn't proposed yet. He might be heading for a ship to cross the
channel this very instant. Why have you never told us you'd seen the
duke at Hayford? I would've arranged for you to meet him much
earlier. We've been wasting precious time!”

The
door opened and Gigi's father entered the drawing room.

Hard
on his heels came, as always, Mr. Wimple.

The
enormous basset hound waddled over to Lady Cartwright. She hoisted
him onto the divan with some travail. “Nobody is going to murder
you, my love,” she purred. “If that duke-man isn't nice to you,
we'll murder
him
.”

General
Cartwright kissed his wife on the cheek. “Good afternoon my flower.
What's with a duke? Have we captured some poor blighter already?”

“
Yes,
indeed. The Duke of Surrey at that! But your daughter did it all by
herself. I can't claim any of the glory. Such a shame. I only have
one daughter! There won't be another chance! Well, perhaps I did
contribute a little.”

“
Really?
Eugenia? A duke? How did the child accomplish such a masterpiece?”

Maybe
he really does want to marry me.

Lady
Cartwright sighed and gave a detailed report of the recent events.

“
Assailed
her in a bookshop?” General Cartwright lightened his pipe. “You
base your endeavours on shaky grounds, my love.”

“
Oh,
but I'd seen how smitten he was. I knew I had only
to
mention Lady Winston's ball and he'd be there. To my own disgrace, I
grabbed the wrong book and handed him
The
Birds of Cheltenham Gardens.
I
had several sleepless nights over it. I feared he might take Eugenia
for a lack wit. That book is revolting!”

If
he doesn't want to marry me, I'm going to die. But if he really wants
to marry me, I'm also going to die. I'm dead already. Farewell,
world.

“
I
saw a copy of that novel just the other day in a gutter near St.
James' Park, in case you're interested,” Gigi's father grumbled.

“
No,
I'm not,” Lady Cartwright frowned. “Thank the Almighty his horse
liked the apple pie. What would we've done otherwise?”

“
Don't
tell me you had a hand in that too,” the general implored.

“
No.
But I wish I had!”

14.

Bond
Street, the next morning

Dominic
and Lackerby saw heavily armed guards as they entered Monsieur
Duval's boutique for handmade jewellery. That was only necessary
considering the values stored within.

The
famous goldsmith Claude Duval had left France after the Revolution
since, for reasons well known, there were few necks left for his
jewels to adorn.

For
many years now, his establishment had been counted among the most
renowned in England.

The
boudoir where Monsieur Duval welcomed his customers was large and
elegantly styled in red velvet and gold. Necklaces, bracelets and
earrings were placed almost negligently throughout the room as if
forgotten.

“
We're
only trinkets,” the jewels seemed to whisper, “just take us
along, it doesn't matter. You can afford it.”

You
don't fool me, you shiny little seductresses.

Dominic
knew, as did every gentleman in London, that a piece of jewellery at
Monsieur Duval would cost him at least a thousand pounds.

Lackerby,
untroubled by the surroundings, kept elaborating on his newest
conquest – the red-haired opera dancer bearing the promising name
of Desirée.

“
You
should see the way she moves her hips, Surrey, it's hypnotic! She
could make millions with it. In that state of trance I'd give her all
my money and yours as well, if she only consented to move her hips on
top of me.”

“
Oh,
shut up, Lacks. Help me find something suitable for my bride. If
she'll have me.”

I’m
doubting it.

“
Come
on, Surrey, she's not going to say no, whoever she is. You're making
quite the secret of it, by the by. I wonder why, actually? She ugly?”

“
No,
she's the most beautiful girl in the world.”

“
Aren't
they always?”

Apart
from Surrey and Lackerby there was only one more customer in the
boudoir.

That
other customer was lounging comfortably on a vast couch, with his
back towards the two lords. Oddly, he wore a tricorn.

Dominic
smiled to himself. He thought it quite droll that a tricorn would be
present when he bought his first gift for Gigi the pirate.

“
It'll
have to be something unique, Lacks. Something truly beautiful. This
is cheap rubbish. She'd throw it into my face.”

No,
she'd probably strangle me with it.

“
Quite
a demanding young lady, your future wife. Are you quite sure about
her?”

“
Yes.
Shut up and look.”

Nothing
Dominic had seen so far had pleased him. Duval would have to bring
out his hidden treasure boxes with the more expensive pieces; in
fact, Duval was at that very moment busy presenting a collier of
emeralds and diamonds to the man wearing the tricorn from just such a
box.

That
would be more to my taste.

“
Look
at that!” Lackerby lifted a necklace of sinfully red rubies,
surrounded by smaller stones of black jet. “It looks exactly like
the nightgown Desirée wore last night, I'm going to buy it for her
and the her hips will---”

“
LACKERBY!”
A voice filled the boudoir with the sound of rolling thunder.

Lackerby
was at once pale as a sheet. No, he was green!

“
Still
spending all your money on harlots,” the voice rumbled on.

Lackerby
began to stutter. “N-no, S-Sir, the, la-la-la-dy is just a
f-riend.”

“
Aren't
they always?”

It
was the man on the couch!

“
Sir,”
Dominic said crisply. “It is particularly discourteous to address a
gentleman without facing him. Whatever business you have with the
Viscount should at least be worth a proper greeting.”

The
man laughed throatily. Then he got up and turned.

It's
a giant!

The
man was almost seven feet tall. His shoulders were broader than those
of an ox and an enormous white beard covered his face.

It's
Jupiter!

All
the while Lackerby stood unmoving by Dominic's side.

“
Well,
boy, here I stand, looking at you.” The giant stepped out from
behind the couch. He carried an uncanny iron walking stick, which he
surely did not need to keep him on his feet.

Is
that a skull on the pommel?

“
Pardon
me, Sir, but I don't think we've been introduced and I dislike your
manner of speaking,” Dominic insisted coldly. No matter how
intimidating that man was, he did not fear him. He was Surrey.

“
Do
you, boy? --- Eh, Lackerby? Shouldn't you also be getting married
like your foppish friend here? Could do you a hell of a lot of good,
m'lad!”