An Unlikely Duchess (5 page)

Strange, though he could see that she was much more attractive than he first thought, he felt completely unmoved. Perhaps because he was so enraptured with the imp standing beside him.

“I am, your grace, I thank you.”

“Am I to receive an introduction to this beautiful young lady then?”

Tom’s voice floated from behind Edward’s shoulder. He watched in consternation as Rebecca’s eyes lit up with mirth. He was sure they hadn’t lit like that for him. The thought did nothing for his mood.

This time, his mother, who’d been watching his face intently for the entirety of the exchange and had a sort of bemused expression, was the one to carry out introductions.

“Tom, my dear. Allow me to introduce you to Lady Rebecca, Lady Caroline’s younger sister.” She had a shrewd glint in her eye and watched in satisfaction as Tom bent over Rebecca’s hand.

It seemed to Edward that he held onto that hand longer than was necessary. He felt like ripping Tom’s arm off and beating him with it.

“Lady Rebecca, an honour to finally meet you. A shame we did not meet sooner.”

The twinkle in his eye drew a responding smile from Rebecca. This was much easier, much less complicated. Here was a nice man, making light of the situation. Handsome, pleasant, wealthy presumably. And she felt nothing. No tingle. No hammering heart. Nothing. What a pity.

“I apologise Mr. Crawdon. I was somewhat indisposed this afternoon.”

His answering grin sparked one of her own and Rebecca felt herself relax even more. She could quite enjoy having this lively gentleman around, even if it meant having to put up with her feelings for his cousin.

CHAPTER THREE

Shortly after, Murphy announced dinner and the assembled guests began to make their way in.

Rebecca found herself seated to Tom’s right. Being the youngest and therefore lowest ranking female member of the party, she was seated at the end furthest from Hartridge. She could not help the twinge of disappointment.

What on earth was wrong with her? This is how people sit. Always. Besides, she could still see him. And his cravat.

“My lady,” Mr. Crawdon’s voice drew her attention.

Rebecca turned to meet his gaze and automatically leaned in closer to him when he began speaking in low tones, meant only for her ears.

“Never have I been so entertained in the first thirty minutes of a visit in my life,” he began.

“Oh Mr. Crawdon, I beg of you, please do not bring it up again. What must you think of me?”

“I think you are delightful,” he answered sincerely.

Rebecca smiled shyly, a little surprised at the rather forward compliment. She did not know Mr. Crawdon well enough to know if he had a wicked sense of humour or not so she thought it best not to comment.

Turning back toward her plate she glanced briefly up the table to where the duke sat and found, to her shock, that he was staring quite murderously at her. Her gaze caught in his and she found that she had no will or desire to look away. What on earth was he angry about? She could not possibly have offended him in the short time since they’d left the drawing room.

Rebecca could see that her father was talking to him and she tilted her head ever so slightly to indicate that he should listen. Her father could talk for Ireland and there was no doubt that the duke would be missing out on a rather large amount of conversation.

He blinked as if coming out of a trance and issued her a small smile before turning his attention to her father.

She could not help her mouth forming a smile of its own. Really, the man was far too handsome for his own good. Or hers. When he smiled, his entire face lit up and he looked younger, more carefree, and even more beautiful!

She caught Caroline’s eye at that moment and her spirits plummeted. Caroline was glaring at her. And by the venomous look and the way her eyes darted between the duke and Rebecca, Caroline had seen their little exchange.

But it was perfectly innocent,
thought Rebecca in consternation. Caroline was still shooting daggers and Rebecca knew better than to try to placate her now. She would not listen. A mule was less stubborn than Caroline when she thought the conventions of society were being threatened.

So Rebecca turned her attention to her plate and there it remained for the remainder of the meal.

After the last course had been served and done justice to, the ladies retired to the drawing room while the men enjoyed their port and cheroots.

Rebecca trailed rather miserably behind the other ladies and took a seat on one of the chairs furthest from Mama and Lady Catherine.

Caroline immediately came to sit beside her and Rebecca prepared for the upcoming lecture on propriety, how a lady should act and each variance of these themes in between.

What she wasn’t prepared for was Caroline’s eyes welling up with tears. Rebecca gaped but could not help it. The last time Caroline had cried was when she still wore her hair in pigtails. If she remembered correctly, it had been because Rebecca had accidentally —no matter what Caroline tried to claim— dropped a basket of apples on her head.

“Caroline,” she leaned forward in concern, “are you well?”

“Rebecca” —Caroline seemed to be trying to gather her composure— “I do not pretend to know what your reasons are, but please desist from trying to win the duke’s affections. You know he is intended for me. That I am to be the duchess.”

Rebecca was so shocked she could not form a coherent word. After spluttering for a while she managed to croak out a disbelieving “What?”

“You heard me perfectly,” responded Caroline coldly, her composure well and truly back in place and her spine once again stiff enough to snap in two.

Rebecca could feel herself getting angry. What in the blazes was Caroline talking about anyway? She could not remember having a more ridiculous conversation than she was having right now, including the time she tried to explain to young Martin that his chances of catching a real leprechaun were extremely slim.

“And what part of my behaviour gave you the idea I was bent on seducing your precious duke, Caroline? Was it when I threw myself into the pond perhaps? Swore in front of him, because we all know that is sure to secure a gentleman’s affection! Oh, I know, it was when he was trying to compliment us both earlier and caught me mocking him.”

Rebecca was so angry that she was shaking. She hated having to summarise her disgrace to prove she wasn’t duke snatching.

“I cannot begin to imagine what it is that so attracts him, Rebecca,” muttered Caroline icily, “but given that he has been staring at you like he wants to gobble you up since he watched your little circus in the gardens, I would say that whatever it is you are doing is working. So stop it.”

Rebecca would much rather Caroline had continued to cry. At least she appeared human then. This frigid anger was horrible to endure. Their tempers were so vastly different. Rebecca went up like a torch when baited, her temper rising to fiery and gargantuan proportions.

Caroline, in contrast, became even more cool and calm, her tone biting as she delivered merciless set downs.

“That is preposterous,” Rebecca cried, drawing the attention of Mama and Lady Catherine.

“Rebecca,” her mother scolded, “do try to keep it down dearest.”

Rebecca had enough. This entire situation was grossly unfair. She stood up and made to storm from the room. What insanity to say she had any ulterior motive toward the duke. Her conscience pricked guiltily but she shoved it aside. She did not purposefully find him attractive and had certainly given no indication of her feelings.

And as for Caroline claiming that he looked at her like – like –

Well it was ridiculous. Utterly ridiculous.

She decided to take some air on the balcony that ran around the side of the house and made for the doors leading from the drawing room and out into the summer night’s air.

Still in a temper though, she could not let her true feelings about their guests go unsaid so she marched back towards Caroline, leaned down and whispered fiercely, “Even if I was in the market for a husband, which I am NOT, I think your way of going about getting one is insane. I understand the contract was made before you were even born but my God Caroline, you know nothing about him save his wealth and title. He could have been the most ill-mannered, self-absorbed rake who ever walked in the world and you’d
still
want to see this through.”

“But he is not, is he?” Caroline’s soft question brought her up short. No, he did not seem to be any of those things.

“Do you dislike him so very much then?” asked Caroline.

Rebecca hesitated before answering.

“I do not know him so how can I dislike him?”

“Rebecca, you’ve always allowed your head to be filled with ridiculous, fairy tale notions of love, romance and heroes. But that is not how the world works. I must marry and marry well. The contract is made. We are both aware of what our duty is. When Charles inherits Father’s title and estates, do you really want to be a spinster sister? Living off the kindness of him and his wife?”

“Well of course not, who wants to live with her big brother forever? But I am hardly in my dotage. There is plenty of time for me to meet someone whom I love, and who loves me.”

“And where will you meet this wonderful man, hmm? Certainly not here. And you are refusing to have a Season–”

“So are you,” Rebecca responded hotly.

“I am not
refusing
I merely pointed out how unnecessary it is for me, when I am betrothed to a duke. After all, I cannot very well hope to do better can I?” she asked smugly.

Her constant references to her engagement, and to the Duke of Hartridge were feeding Rebecca’s anger and bringing it to a fever pitch.

She chose not to examine the reason why too closely.

“What happened to you, Caroline? When did you become this Ice Queen?” she bit out.

As soon as Rebecca said the words, she wished she could take them back.

A look of pain flashed across Caroline’s face before she schooled it into impassivity once again. It tugged at Rebecca’s all too feeling heart.

“I am sorry Caroline. I should not have—”

“Your problem, dearest, is that you have yet to grow up,” Caroline interrupted Rebecca as if she hadn’t even been speaking. “You think that your beauty alone will be enough to excuse your ridiculous behaviour.”

Rebecca flinched as if she’d been slapped. In truth it felt like she had been.

“Our whole lives you’ve been the funny one, the pretty one, the wild one and it was acceptable when we were young. It is even somewhat acceptable now that we’re hidden away here on the estate. But you would bring utter disgrace down on our name if you were let loose in society. Why do you think our parents have not pursued the subject? And as for the idea of you being a duchess, well it is madness.”

“I never said I
wanted
to be a duchess,” Rebecca insisted hotly.

Why she chose this one detail of Caroline’s softly spoken tirade to hotly deny was beyond her. She was livid, past the point of reason. But it felt terribly important that Caroline knew she had no feelings toward the duke.

At least then one of them might believe it.

Rebecca could not bear to listen to any more. She and Caroline had been at odds for years but the venom coming from her sister now seemed excessive. She did not realise Caroline held her in such contempt. And, whilst she had always suspected that her family was embarrassed by her antics, it hurt more than she was willing to show to have it spelled out to her in such a manner.

She’d never set out to hurt them.

Rebecca could feel tears beginning to sting her eyes but she would be damned if she’d let them fall in front of Caroline.

Without a word, she turned on her heel and fled to the balcony.

****

Edward leaned back against the wall and closed his eyes, enjoying the peace and quiet. He meant to enjoy his solitude before having to join the ladies and deal with his raging hormones. He had enjoyed the reprieve with the earl and Tom but, when talk turned, not very subtly, to marriage he made his escape promptly.

Until he spoke to his mother all he had were suspicions, but he could almost guarantee that they were planning on him leaving here engaged to Lady Caroline.

They would be disappointed, however.

He had no intention of marrying.

And whilst he could admit that Lady Caroline was very much duchess material, it would be deuced uncomfortable taking her up the aisle when his entire being was preoccupied with taking up her sister’s skirts!

He began to think about returning indoors when a noise to his left caught his attention.

He said noise, but it was really a curse. And a very audible one at that.

He had to bite back his laughter as he realised that the chit was once again swearing like a sailor and unaware that she was doing so in his presence.

“Devil take him anyway. He is not even that handsome.”

His ears pricked up. To whom was she referring? It could not be him, he thought rather smugly, he was quite the catch.

She groaned next and he moved nearer to get a better look.

He found himself conveniently hidden behind a huge potted plant, yet still perfectly able to see her.

“Perhaps he is handsome. Well, there is no perhaps. He IS handsome, blast it.”

Was it odd that he found her endearing whilst talking to herself?

“How dare she? I could care less about Society. And I certainly am not trying to seduce the duke.”

He froze.

Her ranting suddenly became a lot more interesting to him. Though not nearly as interesting as the idea of her seducing him.

He nearly groaned aloud himself at the mere thought. He could not help feeling slightly proud that she found him handsome.

As he watched she kicked out at a defenceless plant then slumped against the balustrade looking very young and very defeated.

His heart clenched and he desperately wanted to reach out to her. Oddly enough, to comfort her and not even think about the idea of her seducing him… well, perhaps a little, he was still human–