Charming the Duke (2 page)

“No, I don’t, Matilda. Men must be handled so delicately. Far more expeditious to find the proper one and then slowly take the marriage in the direction you desire. In the life you desire. No need to tip your hand at the outset, my dear.”

Matilda had heard this speech before and knew its conclusion. “All the while allowing him to think he has retained the upper hand.”

Ethel nodded vigorously. “Yes. Exactly. And this foray into charitable works may be seen as terribly independent. As well as unfashionable.”

“And therefore unacceptable in a wife.”

Ethel leaned forward in her chair. “Find a suitable match and then proceed with this orphanage. Certainly there’ll still be orphans a few years from now.”

Matilda considered her grandmother’s words. Wise words, she admitted. It would be interesting to experience what softened the hard frame of Ethel Sheldon’s face. But frankly, Matilda admitted, she’d be far too old to enjoy much of anything if she waited for a husband.

“I am determined, Ethel, to begin this project straight away. I see no need to wait for a man who won’t materialize and can’t mourn what I’ve never felt. These children, on the other hand, have heavy grief at their doorstep this very day. No. I shan’t wait to train a husband.”

Ethel Sheldon folded her hands in her lap and stared at Matilda. “Have you all the necessary funds at your disposal?”

Matilda felt a surge of triumph. “Not quite. But it will come, I’m sure of it.”

Chapter Two

T
he Duke of Thornsby bellowed.

The House of Thornsby’s long-trusted solicitor quaked in his shoes and the papers he held shook. “It is all here, Your Grace.”

Frederick Wilcox, the current Duke of Thornsby, grabbed the parchment from the man’s hand. How many scullery maids had a will? He glared at his sister seated quietly in the corner of his study. “I see your hand in this, Athena.”

Athena Wilcox tipped her head. “As you wish.”

“I wish my sister would control herself is what I wish.” Thornsby read to the last line. At least his solicitor was not the name scrawled. He would have fired the man in an instant for indulging in his sister’s independent nature. “What am I to do with the accursed creatures?”

Athena rose and bid their family solicitor farewell. Not a hair out of place from the tight bun that held her waist-length hair. When the door clicked shut, she turned on her brother. “Creatures, Freddy? Really. They are children. Martha Gilbert has worked for us since she was able, taking over for her mother.”

“Fine. She was a loyal servant. My hearths were excessively clean under her command. That does not mean I wish to be guardian to her children. I have pressing issues . . .”

Athena’s brows rose. “Pressing issues? No doubt some pale actress awaits you. Or a race needs to be run.”

Thornsby glared. “As you know, there are certain conditions to my inheritance. Our inheritance, I might add, considering you seem to have no interest in any household but mine.”

“Go on.”

Athena Wilcox was determined to be an old maid. She took no issue when he threw it in her face as he was doing now. Made him feel quite the cad to do it, but sometimes, well, desperate circumstances called for action. “To avoid listening to you harass me to no end, I, um, failed to tell you the particulars,” Thornsby replied.

Athena’s eyes narrowed. “Particulars?”

“As you know, Father expressly wished I would marry before inheriting.”

“When Father died, you became the Duke. Whatever do you mean? I thought you had solved it all,” Athena said.

Thornsby edged around the desk to place the six foot of gleaming cherry wood between himself and his only sibling. “The title came to me on Father’s death.” He tapped the quill on the felt pad. “But not the money.”

All the blood drained from Athena’s face.

“I must marry.” Thornsby continued as he looked up. “Soon, I might add, to receive the Thornsby wealth.”

“How long?”

“By my thirtieth birthday.”

“And you have known this since Father’s death?” Athena asked.

When his sister spoke in the muted tone as she was doing now, Thornsby usually headed for the stables, or anywhere she wasn’t. He nodded.

“Have you any prospects?”

“There. You came right to the crux of the problem. This very weekend I intended to join a house party at Maplewood. The seat of the Earl of Bisset. I have been told he has two daughters of marriageable age. That is why I cannot be saddled with the scullery maid’s children on this particular day.”

Athena’s eyes widened. “The Sheldon girls! Dear Lord, Freddy. They are as stupid as your boots. Although the parents surpass even that. Would you tie yourself and me, as well, with a woman who hasn’t the wherewithal to spell her own name?”

Thornsby tilted his head, remarkably like his sister had done just moments before. “I’m twenty-nine-years old, Athena. The only chits on the market were sixteen. A stupid wife is one thing. A child, a very different thing. Apparently the oldest, Juliet, is twenty-two. The youngest eighteen. Young, still, but maybe the older one will not oppose my suit.”

“Oppose your suit? You could have married any number of young women since Father died. They fall at your knees, for God sakes, Freddy,” Athena shouted. She paused and asked quietly. “What have you done?”

How well his older sister knew him. Fortunately, she didn’t go out into society often enough to hear of all of his escapades. “The marriage mamas have seen fit to not let their daughters within a hundred yards of me.”

Athena smiled that tight-lipped smile he hated.

“And why, pray tell, is that?” she asked.

“It wasn’t me, Athena. It was all Smithly’s doing.” His sister’s nostrils flared on the mention his best friend’s name. “He was out kissing some debutante, and I only went to warn him, I tell you, just to warn him that the chit’s brothers were searching high and low.”

Athena leaned over the desk. “And when the brothers found you and Smithly, I suppose the girl was in some state of undress.”

Thornsby nodded. “If Andrew had had a title, he’d be married as we speak. But in the end the brothers didn’t deem him a fit husband for their sister, and rather than shooting us on the next dawn, set out to make sure every mama was on her guard. And a fine job they’ve done.”

“Why do you suppose the Earl has not heard this story?”

Thornsby smiled. A smile so daunting, he knew that even a cold-hearted wench like his unmarried sister softened just the slightest. She wasn’t cold-hearted, Thornsby knew, but damn independent and clever. “You said yourself, Athena. The parents are stupider than the daughters.”

“Humph,” Athena said. “There are three girls, Freddy. I met them all a few years ago.”

“Three? That increases my odds considerably.” He could see his sister warming to the idea, even knowing the personality of the girls. “Why don’t you come with me this weekend since you’ve made their acquaintance? It would help immensely.”

Athena shook her head. “Heavens no! I’ve made plans with the housekeeper to do the annual inventory. I hate those kinds of parties anyway.”

“You would risk us being thrown in the street to count the silverware?”

“Really, Freddy? Don’t confuse me with the Sheldon girls. I have enough money of my own to keep a roof over our heads till our death.”

Thornsby affected a deep sigh. “I suppose you’re right. I certainly feel badly though about not being able to tithe all those charities you’re so fond of.”

Athena turned from the desk and swept to the door in a cloud of brown silk. “What day do we leave, Freddy?”

“Tomorrow.”

Chapter Three

M
atilda watched from her bedroom window as the line of carriages discharged their passengers and continued on to deposit the trunks, valets, and maids at the servant’s entrance for the weekend house party. Matilda had slipped away earlier that day in the midst of the hustle and bustle to inspect a house she was most likely going to purchase. She’d filed the necessary papers through a solicitor of her grandmother’s choosing, who was shocked she had access to her fortune. If Ethel hadn’t accompanied her, she doubted the man would have believed her.

The house was situated in a nice, although not posh section of town, and had huge bedrooms and an enclosed garden in the back. The servant’s quarters would do nicely for whomever Matilda employed as the housemother as well as a cook and a man of all trades. She had inspected the brown stone from top to bottom and felt it would serve her purposes aptly. The price was in the range she could afford, most certainly because the house had fallen into some disrepair. Windows needed scrubbed or replaced. Walls needed patching and painting, and carpets needed a sound beating. But all in all it was everything she’d hoped for.

Matilda crept in through the kitchen of Maplewood and made her way to the staircase when her mother saw her. Frances Sheldon brushed dust from Matilda’s cape, kissed her cheek and told her to hurry along. Guests were arriving that very minute.

Matilda supposed she’d best tell her family very soon about her plans. She brushed her hair, braided two long tails and donned her dress while waiting for the maid to pin up her hair.

“Why aren’t you wearing the pink confection, mademoiselle?” Mimi tittered as she swept in the room.

“I hate pink, as you know, Mimi. Now hurry and pin this coronet.”

Mimi tossed her head, hands on her hips. She waited until she caught Matilda’s reflection in the vanity mirror. The French maid threw up her hands in disgust.

“Your sisters are like a rainbow of colors. And here you are in the dullest blue. You are beautiful, mademoiselle. Why do you try to hide it?”

Mimi worked Matilda’s long braids in circles around her head. “I won’t be in the ballroom long. No use making much of a fuss. Nor am I beautiful, Mimi. I’m not as easily duped as my sisters.”

“Hiding behind those dreadful glasses in dull colors. You hide your beauty. Why?” Mimi asked.

“I’ve no interest in these guests,” Matilda replied.

“No gentleman has caught your eye then, mademoiselle?”

Matilda snorted. “My catching a gentleman’s eye and his catching mine are two different things. They are for the most part boring.”

“You are too good for them, then, eh?”

Matilda smiled a little smile and said nothing else. She wasn’t really a snob, was she? She just preferred to blend with the wallpaper. Much better than being compared to Juliet and Alexandra. Much less chance of spilling wine or tripping while one was among the ferns. Snob or coward. Either way, Matilda was not pleased with herself. Both descriptions were unacceptable.

Matilda waved away Mimi’s insistence on lip rouge and inspected herself in the full-length mirror. The flat blue-gray of her dress hung straight with not a ribbon or button to be had. Plain sleeves ended mid forearm. The pins holding her hair in place dug into her skull. She scratched her scalp between two massive braids. Mimi flew forward, scowling, and thrust a loosened pin back in place.

“Oh! That hurt!” Matilda said.

The petite French woman shook her head as she walked out of Matilda’s bedroom. “Beauty is pain, ma petite.”

* * *

“Now you must contrive to talk a bit, Freddy, if you are to make a match. Women don’t particularly find an impending forty years of silence to be an inducement to marriage.” Athena frowned and looked out the window. “The Gilbert children are being cared for by Mrs. Plumsbly for the next few days. But you must make some decisions shortly.”

“May hap Mrs. Plumsbly will decide to keep the children. That will solve it all,” Thornsby said to his sister.

Athena turned. “Mrs. Plumsbly is sixty-years-old. She raised her children years ago. And don’t act as if you didn’t hear me about the other. Brooding silent types may attract more experienced women, but these girls will expect some conversation.”

“He has nothing to say to them, Athena. Quit your nagging,” Andrew Smithly replied from across the seat.

Athena’s eyes opened wide. “Nagging? Of all the outrageous statements. I do not nag.”

Smithly stretched out his legs. “Nag, nag, nag. No wonder no one will marry you.”

Thornsby was more than accustomed to Athena and Smithly’s arguments. They snipped at each other constantly. Quite a shame, his sister and his best friend detested each other. “Be quiet the both of you. My problems far outsize either of yours.”

“Won’t be such a change, Freddy. Just pick one of the girls, drag her to the minister, bed her and be on your merry way. Can’t inconvenience you for more than a month or two. Violet will wait,” Andrew said glibly.

“Smithly!” Thornsby said in a low voice, “for the love of God. My sister is present. Mind your tongue.”

Athena raised one brow and tightened her lips. “I am hardly a child out of the school room, Freddy. Although crudely put, I imagine, Smithly is right.”

Athena was Thornsby’s only family other than some distant and rather unusual cousins. Her disdain for him was clear on her face. “If you agree with Smithly, then why the scowl?” Thornsby asked.

“Her face is set that way, it is. Hardened like plaster,” Smithly said as he stared out the window of the coach.

Thornsby glared at Andrew. “No need to malign . . .”

“Oh, do be quiet. The both of you. I hardly need your help with Smithly. He is such a bit of a man.”

“The scowl, sister?” Thornsby prompted again.

“I just, well . . .” Athena began. “Oh, never mind.”

“Tell me, Athena. And do promise you won’t call me Freddy this weekend. What were you going to say?”

Athena looked out the window. “It’s just that Father and Mother had such high hopes for you. They both prayed you would find a mate worthy of you, who loved you. Whom you could love, like they loved each other.” Athena flitted her hand. “But you have wasted your time away, playing the bachelor. Well, enough.”

“Wasted his time being a bachelor. Heigh ho. I would hardly call what Thornsby’s been up to a waste. Nay, I’d say,” Andrew continued.