An Unlikely Duchess (18 page)

***

“Paul.” Josephine had been leaning forward in her carriage seat since they had turned through the gates and onto the long driveway leading to Hawthorn House. She appeared quite unaware of the amused, affectionate glances of Mrs. Hennessy and the somewhat envious ones of Caroline. She had spotted Mitford standing in the courtyard with Mr. Hennessy. “Paul.”

She waited only as long as it took a footman to lower the steps, and she was out and tripping across the cobblestones in quite undignified haste, her face lit up with eagerness. It did not appear at all strange that the duke opened his arms to her, and not at all improper that she ran straight into them and raised her face for his kiss. Truth to tell, the proprieties had never been farther from her mind.

“Paul,” she said, her words all in a rush to escape at once. She was clinging to his neck. “You would never guess. Not in a million Sundays.”

“Wouldn’t I?” he said, his hands fitting themselves comfortably to her waist. “Did you do all your shopping?”

Mr. Hennessy was laughing heartily. “Well, Livy,” he said to his wife, who was only then descending from the carriage, “do you not have such a wifely greeting for me?”

“Oh, Harvey!” she said, laughing and viewing the newly married pair with complacence. “What nonsense.”

“We ran into Mr. Porterhouse in Ammanford,” Josephine said, her hands busy at the lapels of Mitford’s coat. “And he was quite perfectly polite and charming, and he had never in his life heard of jewels.”

“A most amiable young man,” Mrs. Hennessy said. “And staying with Lord Parleigh, Harvey. Doubtless you will meet him at the ball. Did you send to the Park?”

“I did not,” he said, “having decided to ride over there myself, Livy, now that I have completed my morning’s business. But I shall certainly mention the fact that we have visitors, and Parleigh will doubtless extend the invitation to them too.”

“Oh, Jo.” Caroline clapped her hands. “You are to come to the ball at Deerview Park with us. Lord Parleigh’s balls are always splendid occasions, I do assure you. There are always visitors staying there. Mr. Porterhouse is surely the most handsome gentleman I have ever seen, Papa.”

Her father chuckled and set an arm about her shoulders. “I believe our presence here is
de trop
,” he said. “Come along, chicken, you shall show me what you bought and tell me what bills I am to expect.”

“Oh, I say,” the Duke of Mitford said, removing his hands from Josephine’s waist.

“Oh, I do beg your pardon,” Josephine said, simultaneously dropping her hands from the duke’s lapels.

But the Hennessys seemed only to delighted to leave them alone together.

“We had better walk away from the house and talk,” Mitford said, offering Josephine an arm and turning in the direction of a wide lawn. “Did Porterhouse insult you or harm you in any way?”

“The villain!” she said vehemently. “When I demanded my jewels, he looked very puzzled and concerned. And when Mrs. Hennessy and Caroline came out of the dressmaker’s shop, he was as amiable and as charming as he used to be when he was at the Winthrops’—gracious, was it only a week ago? I am not at all surprised that I took him for a kind gentleman. But what will he do, sir? Will he run away again now that he knows we have tracked him down?”

Mitford sighed. “It is hard to say,” he said. “What I would do if I were he is stay and continue to deny all knowledge of your jewels. To flee would be to own his guilt. And we have no proof that he took them.”

“But he did!” she said, swinging around to face him. “I know I brought the box with me, and I know it had disappeared by the next morning. Who else could have taken them?”

He held up a staying hand. “You know that,” he said, “and I know it. But there is no proof, for all that.”

“Well,” she said, bristling
.
“I am going to ride over to Deerview Park this instant and confront Mr. Porterhouse. And I shall tell everyone else there what he has done. That will be fitting embarrassment for him.”

“You will do no such thing,” Mitford said hastily. “It would be highly improper for a young lady to ride onto a gentleman’s property unaccompanied. And I could certainly not accompany you. Your brother and sister are there.”

Josephine stared at him open-mouthed, rendered speechless for the moment.

“They were hot on our trail, it seems,” Mitford said, clasping his hands behind him and rocking back on his heels. “A friend of mine thought to do me a favor and lead them astray. He brought them to Deerview Park, where I suppose they decided to stay when they heard that Porterhouse was one of the guests.”

“Oh, dear,” Josephine said ineffectually. “Bart and Sukey?”

“I understand they are also looking for a Mr. Paul Villiers,” Mitford said. “I am afraid I gave a different name this morning and pretended to be staying in a different place from this house. So I cannot accompany you to Lord Parleigh’s, you see, without their realizing that something strange is in the wind.”

“Bart and Sukey,” Josephine said. “Bart can lecture almost as well as Grandpapa, you know, when he is given a good enough excuse to play elder brother. And Sukey can look as sorrowful as Papa when she thinks that something I have done is not quite the thing. Oh, dear, whatever am I to do?”

“What I should have done,” the Duke of Mitford said, “was take your brother aside and confess all to him. Then we could finally be free of the terrible scandal that has been threatening you.”

“Are you mad?” she asked, staring at him as if she really thought he might be. “Bart would kill me. And he would kill you, which would be considerably more unjust. They must not find us. Nothing is clearer than that.”

“Besides,” he said with a sigh, “how can we confess the truth now, when we have accepted the hospitality of the Hennessys? The scandal would kill your reputation forever.”

“Anyway,” Josephine added, “if Bart found me, he would drag me off home and I would never recover my jewels.”

The Duke of Mitford scratched his head and rocked back on his heels. “I am going to have to confront Porterhouse tomorrow without delay,” he said, “and force the jewels from him. Then, Miss Middleton, it will be home with you as fast as horse can travel.”

She opened her mouth to protest.

“There is no point whatsoever in arguing,” he said. “You cannot go yourself for a variety of reasons, not the least of which is that your brother and sister would see you.”

Josephine shut her mouth again.

The Duke of Mitford frowned and stared into her eyes, deep in thought. “I have an idea,” he said.

She brightened perceptibly. “What?”

“I must leave here alone,” he said. He rubbed his chin and thought more. “Sickness in the family. My sister’s confinement. I will think of something. Something to convince the Hennessys. After I leave here, I will get your jewels, see that they are delivered to your brother, and take myself off. Then you can discover somehow that your brother and sister are at Deerview Park and be restored to them. You can persuade them of the necessity of keeping quiet about your true marital state. But your ordeal with be over, to all intents and purposes.”

“But I would go with you,” she said, “if you were called away. We are newly married and deeply in love.”

“But I would not risk your safety in an urgent ride by curricle to London,” he said. “I shall receive a summons from my sister’s husband tomorrow morning.”

“But I would go,” Josephine said. “She is my sister-in-law, remember, and I am not at all afraid of curricles.” She met his eyes. “Well, not when you are at the ribbons, anyway.”

The Duke of Mitford rocked on his heels. “Would you kindly remember, ma’am,” he said, “that we are not really wed? And if you choose, you can be a little afraid of curricles. And if I choose, I can be insistent that I not put your life in danger. You owe me obedience, after all.”

“But I have just been told to remember that I am not your wife in reality,” she said. “I owe you nothing, sir.” They glared at each other for a moment until Josephine flushed. “Except for a great deal of money,” she added. “I bought the most dreadful dresses, Paul, and a whole lot of accessories besides.”

“You owe me nothing,” he said, reaching out to touch her cheek with his fingertips. “Only this one thing, please. Allow me to free you from the tangle we have got into together. I know you would like to confront Porterhouse yourself, and I know you have the courage to do so, but you must remain here with Mrs. Hennessy and her daughter and play the part of complacent wife.”

Josephine wrinkled her nose. “Well,” she said, “by tomorrow perhaps we will have thought of another idea.” She brightened. “Perhaps we will. Though, of course, it will be far better for you if we do not. Tomorrow you will be free of me and on your way to where you were going. You will be glad of that.”

He slid his fingers down her cheek and beneath her chin.

“Where were you going?” she asked.

“Somewhere I did not want to go,” he said, “to meet someone I did not want to meet.”

“A lady?” she asked.

He nodded.

“You were to make her an offer?” she asked. “Perhaps she would not have been so bad after all. And she will doubtless be disappointed that you did not arrive.”

He smiled. “I doubt it,” he said.

“I don’t.” She touched one hand to the front of his coat and removed it gain. “I would be disappointed.” She flushed quite painfully.

“Would you?” he asked. “But you were not disappointed to have avoided your own suitor.”

“That is different,” she said. “He is toplofty and handsome. And a rake.”

“And on whose authority do you have all this information?” he asked.

“Mr. Porterhouse’s,” she said. “Mr. Porterhouse knows him.”

“Ah,” he said. “Then we know for a certainty that the information must be reliable.”

“Yes.” Josephine looked doubtful. “But why would he have invented those things?”

The duke raised his eyebrows.

“Oh, dear,” Josephine said. “Do you think he lied? Do you think the duke might be a decent man after all? But he cannot be. We must never forget his Valet.”

“Of course,” the duke said. “Foolish of me to have forgotten that irrefutable evidence of his grace’s depravity.”

“Yes,” she said, obviously still in doubt and still deep in thought. She raised her face absently for his kiss.

And the duke, who had a hand beneath her chin, could hardly refuse the invitation, though it was not consciously given. He kissed her, flickering his tongue once across her lips. But he did not prolong the embrace. And he was flushing when he looked up.

“We are in sight of the house,” he said. “It is as well to give the impression that we are having a lover’s conversation.”

“Yes, of course,” Josephine said, blushing too.

Chapter 11

Mr. Porterhouse had been rather amused to meet Josephine Middleton in Ammanford. Surprised, certainly, but amused too. He had not expected her to follow him. For one thing, she had seemed to have no means with which to do so, stranded as she would have been when he had left with his carriage. For another thing, he had expected that she would be too afraid to pursue him, since she was but a young and weak female to whom he had made his intentions quite clear. Besides, he would have thought that if she did decide to follow, she would have gone in the direction of London, which any sensible person would have thought to be his destination.

However, it seemed that Miss Josephine Middleton was a far more interesting lady than he had thought. She had found a way to follow him and had done so, arriving in the vicinity of Deerview Park on the same day as he had done so himself.

She was quite a lady!

What amused him more than anything else was the manner in which she had made her pursuit. She had suddenly acquired a husband, it seemed, a Mr. Villiers. Mr. Porterhouse did not know any gentleman of that name. But who else could it be than the man who had come to her rescue at the inn? That great mountain of a man who had come bursting through the door without even opening it and had succeeded in besting him, though he was handy enough with his fives to daunt any ordinary adversary. Of course, he had been taken by surprise at a time when his mind had been on other matters entirely. And the little spitfire of a lady had lent a hand too.

Mr. Porterhouse was perhaps just a little alarmed by the knowledge that the powerful adversary of the inn was with Miss Middleton and had come, presumably, in order to get the jewels for himself. Though perhaps the man would be as disappointed as he had been if he ever got to see the pieces. But on the whole he was not unduly alarmed. The box had been disposed of, and the jewels themselves were well hidden among the belongings in his traveling bag.

It would be difficult for anyone to prove anything against him. Besides, even that uncouth giant who had attacked him would probably think twice about doing so at Deerview Park in the middle of a house party.

And of course he had a powerful weapon of his own, a certain piece of knowledge that Miss Middleton would not wish to be made public—the knowledge that she was not married or otherwise related to the Mr. Villiers with whom she was traveling. Yes, that was a powerful weapon, indeed.

Mr. Porterhouse returned to Deerview Park when he had finished his business in Ammanford without a qualm of real fear. He felt a little uneasy, it was true, when he alighted from his carriage outside the stable block of the house and caught sight of one of the grooms there—a great bald fellow whose body seemed to consist almost entirely of bulging muscles. The fellow looked familiar and aroused uneasiness in Mr. Porterhouse. But he could not place the man and could think of no reason for his uneasiness. It must just be that he had acquired a wariness of brawny males in the past week. He shrugged and made his way to the house.

Although it was only the middle of the afternoon when he arrived, most of the guests were about their own business or pleasure. It was not until he entered Lord Parleigh’s drawing room prior to dinner that he saw two faces that were definitely familiar.

“Middleton!” he said, smiling and extending a hand as he crossed the distance between them. “And Miss Susanna. What a very pleasant and unexpected surprise, to be sure.”