Dusky Duke and the Gypsy Pirate Princess (4 page)

“We are going to do this slowly, understand. If you cannot follow directions, you will lose your turn.”

The young man nodded solemnly as Grey lightly tapped the reins to the back of his matched pair. The phaeton sprang forward. Grey held the reins around True’s hands and glanced at Abby worriedly as she bounced up and down in the seat next to him. “Sit still, young lady.” Grey instructed. Just glared at her. Abby calmed down to a little bounce.

True did very well with the driving instructions and then Just took his turn while True handled the little girls. Soon they arrived at the entrance to Buckingham Palace. As the Williams reassembled and unloaded the picnic baskets from the back of the phantom. Greyson had a conversation with the guard master at the gate. The guards saluted as he strolled past with the Williams. Greyson smiled again, they did not have a clue that the reason they were allowed easy access was because he was a Buckingham.

Once in the gardens, they shook out the picnic blankets and settled down in the grass. Greyson watched Honesty directing her siblings as fruits and chicken were passed around. He couldn’t remember a day he had enjoyed more.

After an hour the baskets were repacked, and stored under a nearby tree. They moved to the center of the garden. A giant maze consisting of ten foot high hedgerows planted in wide pathways. “Remember if you get lost put your hand on the wall and don’t let go. You will eventually find your way out. Try not to get separated from us; we don’t want to have to hunt for you all night.”

The Williams quickly divided; each older one taking charge of a younger one before they entered the maze. The next two hours were filled with the delighted laughter of children as they traipsed up and down corridors in search of the center gazebo. Greyson held the wiggling, heavy toddler as he pulled Honesty by the hand farther into the maze. He could easily imagine them just so with their own troop of children in the future. At the very heart of the maze, the children threw pebbles in the pond and chased the ducks. All too soon, Honesty called for them to return to the coaches. Greyson showed them a shortcut out and all arrived at the front gate without mishap.

Greyson handed Honesty up the thirty-pound, sleepy baby into her coach, before sitting between the younger two boys on the seat of his phaeton. The driving lessons with the younger boys were more difficult than the older boys, but the young girl, Vickie, seemed to catch on quickly.

Once back at 34 Toppens Street, the children thanked him profusely before thundering into the house. Greyson jumped forward to help Honesty with the sleeping baby and the bag of items she had brought.

“I really enjoyed today, very much. Thank you for taking us. I don’t think the children will ever forget it.”

“What about you?” Greyson asked.

“I . . .” he thought she meant to say something else, but instead she added, “I won’t either.”

Greyson smiled. “Tomorrow,…?

But Honesty shook her head, “We are packing tomorrow, and will be gone by the next.” She sounded regretful. “It has been so nice to meet you.” He could hear the good-bye in her words.

“Will you allow me to write to you or permission to come visit you?”

“I guess you may write, and don’t know about the visiting part. But I guess we could write.”

She left him on the steps of the townhouse. Greyson looked up and down the street. He still could not believe that she and her sister had not put two and two together yet.

He had learned so much from the children throughout the day. From Abby and Maggie, he had learned that Pretty and Mama had gone to the dressmakers today for the last fitting before the season finale at Castle Long. From Vickie, he had learned that Honesty had been presented for a season five years before. That her father still complained about the money it had cost him. Honesty and her mother ( stepmother) – because Honesty’s mother died when she was three – had left them home for the season, but five weeks later something happened, Vickie didn’t know what, and Honesty and their mama had returned to the country. The mama had been two months along with Abby at the time. And now according to True, Honesty watched the kids and Pretty and Mama went to the parties so that Pretty could meet someone to marry. But Just didn’t think she was going to, and Val said their dad was going to be smoking hot over the money the whole thing cost him and the fact that they all had been gone so long. Courage thought the reason Honesty didn’t go to the parties was so she wouldn’t attract all the eligible men away from the shy sister. And Val said she should have gone so she could introduce Pretty to guys cause she was too shy to talk to them on her own. And Abby had said that if Honesty went to the parties who would watch her and Maggie and Blue and sing them bedtime songs. True said Honesty never had a beau, Just said she wasn’t interested in guys that much, Val said she loved to dance, Courage said she was ready to go home, Vickie said Honesty liked to ride horses, but not with a side saddle, and Abby told him Honesty liked chocolate and Maggie said Honesty didn’t like to sleep alone.

Greyson grinned at what one could learn from children in one day. Blue hadn’t told him anything yet, and Greyson still wondered why Pretty had lied about who Honesty was and why she didn’t want her mother to know they had been at the masque. Life was definitely interesting to say the least. Now they just had to talk the Williams into coming to Devonshire instead of returning to Conway.

Two days later, Greyson joined his grandmother for a late bunch on the veranda. “Were you able to meet with Mrs. Williams yesterday,” asked Greyson as he pulled up a chair and sat down.

His grandmother frowned down at her plate, “Yes, I did. She and Miss Williams came for tea yesterday and I did exactly as you requested. I practically begged her to come to our extended season, promised her coach service to and from, listed all the eligible men who will be present, including yourself, and personally demanded that the entire family attend. Do you know there are ten children in all? Ten – can you imagine.”

“And did she agree?” His grandmother could see he was holding his breath.

After a long pause she replied, “Yes.”

His quick smile of delight concerned her.

“Greyson,” she said cautiously, “Are you sure about this girl . . . that she is the one . . . that she is right for you?”

“You don’t like her family?” Greyson’s eyebrow went up.

“Oh, no,no,” clarified his grandparent quickly, “the Williams are of suitable bloodlines and a respected family of the ton, but . . .”

“But what . . .”

“It seems a bit fast don’t you think,”

Greyson chuckled; he knew his grandmother had taken one look at his grandfather and then processed to spend the next six months convincing him to see things her way.

“What I mean is that you don’t know her very well, and I’m not sure that this Williams girl is a good fit.”

Greyson looked at his grandmother in confusion. “How can you say that?”

SarahBeth Buckingham wrung her hands in despite. She had never been one to keep her opinion to herself. “She seems well . . . mousey, I guess is the word.”

Greyson looked at his grandmother in surprise and then in mysterious amusement.

“What do you envision my future wife and duchess as?”

“Well, if you must know . . . someone with a bit more spirit, an ability to organize, to at least engage people in conversation, she needs a sense of humor, and a positive outlook on life . . . oh, I don’t know . . . someone who can teach you to have fun again. . .”

“You think I’m stuffy?”

“Well, . . . yes, if you must know.” His grandmother looked at him in dread, afraid that she had gone too far.

“What about someone who speaks her mind, someone who doesn’t always follow the rules exactly, who will love me for myself and not my title,” added Greyson.

“Exactly,” agreed his grandmother.

Greyson stood up having finished his meal, “And that, my dear lady, is why I am have every intention of marrying Miss Prudence William’s,” he paused dramatically, “big sister, Honesty.

He strolled away chuckling as his grandmother called to his back, “What, . . . come back here and explain yourself immediately.” Greyson headed for his study to make sure his papers were packed for the trip to the country.

♣♣♣

Honesty shifted forward in the seat slightly trying not to disrupt the three sleeping children leaning against her. The carriage was well sprung and swayed gently as it rumbled through the countryside. Honesty’s gaze moved from the tangle of sleeping bodies of her brothers lying in the floor of the carriage to the countryside outside the small window.

Honesty tried to adjust her position to make it easier to breath within the confirms of her corset. Mama had insisted that she wear one today as they would be expected to be dressed appropriately when they arrived at the castle this afternoon. She tried to imagine what a castle would look like. Her mother was beside herself in glee at Prudence attracting such an eligible suitor. She had talked of nothing else since her and Pretty had returned from the tea with the Duchess. Honesty frowned. The more mama crowed the more Pretty seemed to withdraw. Honesty could tell that Pretty was not happy about this extended trip to spend more time with this duke. Honesty almost thought that Pretty seemed to be a bit afraid of this strange man, but with all the packing and moving Honesty and her sister had not had a chance to really talk about anything that had happened recently. Honesty could tell without being told that Pretty was very upset about Lord Byron not having ask for her hand. Honesty frowned; what did the girl expect? – after all it had taken the poor boy all season to get Pretty to agree to even one simple dance. And that had been because Honesty had been her usual pushy self.

Honesty’s thoughts jumped back to that perfect night, the perfect waltz with that perfect stranger. Well, he wasn’t exactly a stranger now . . . and she was still evaluating the perfect part. Honesty smiled as she remembered his forward behavior on the bridge. Grey was so tall and handsome, not that she knew that much about him. She didn’t even know his last name or where he was from.

A smile lifted her mouth. The children had loved the day at Buckingham Palace, and the boys and Vickie had talked of nothing but driving the phaeton through the streets of London. It had been the perfect end to a long spring.

Honesty pulled Abby’s sleeping head back up onto her lap as the child slid toward the edge of the seat. Mama had talked of all that duchess had said. The Duchess had insisted that the whole family come. She had listed a multitude of reasons for the Williams children to be included in the invitation: the ocean air, horseback riding, making friends with other children of prominent families, the list had gone on and on. Honesty tried to not worry about how she was going to handle eight high-strung children in a castle of all places.

Her mind wandered back to Grey. Well, when he wrote – if he wrote – she would find out more about him. She wondered how long it would be before he wrote. She sat up in concentration. She had given him her home address, and now they were on their way to Devonshire for the next month so that Pretty could secure her duke. Even if Grey wrote she won’t be able to answer him any time soon. Honesty frowned in debate with herself; maybe she could have her father forward any letters that arrived.

They would arrive at the castle soon thankfully. Honesty shifted Blue against her front and tried to adjust the top of her uncomfortable corset. She couldn’t breathe.

♣♣♣

Greyson looked out the window of the salon at the long drive. Where were they? He shifted on his feet uncomfortably as his grandmother watched him from her chair. Many of the others had already arrived and had joined them in the salon for refreshments. His sisters were off busy settling their children in the nursery with their nannies. Grey was glad his grandmother had thought far enough ahead to hire extra nursery hands for the arrival of the Williams bunch. He knew his grandmother was watching his every move. He had not been forthcoming with any more information on his intended or his intentions despite her best attempts. Grey’s eyes were drawn back to the long, empty driveway.

Had Honesty learned of his identity by now? What had been her reaction to the news? Were they late because she had convinced her mother not to come?

If she didn’t know his identity yet, how was she going to take it when she found out? Greyson wrestled with his conscious. He should have told her himself. Yet, if he had she would have had a chance to back out. He knew she would react badly to his using her mother’s hope for a title to get her here.

Greyson stiffened as the telling dust trail appeared on the horizon. Well, for better or worse, the time had come. Greyson stood unmoving until the coach’s driver was in plain view before turning from the window. His grandmother stood behind him watching. “They have arrived,” Greyson said his voice flat.

The Duchess looked up at him, her eyebrow raised. She knew her grandson well enough to know that he had done something he knew was wrong and was preparing for the consequences. Intrigued she followed him out of the salon to the front hall to greet their arriving guests.

The carriage rolled to a slow stop. Greyson paused on the stairs and waited as the step was set and the door was thrust open. SarahBeth Buckingham blinked as children’s bodies poured from the carriage. Their voices rang loud off the stone arches of the entryway of Devonshire Castle. The children continued to bounce as luggage was handed down, and two blonde ladies stepped out of the coach. The Duchess recognized Mrs. William and her daughter Prudence. Then she caught sight of the tall, lovely girl with dark hair and green-eyes that her grandson had described. The girl struggled out of the carriage holding a still sleeping toddler. The group merged and then parted as the children caught sight of Greyson.

“Grey, Grey,” they shouted in delight. The younger ones swirled around him pulling on his arms in greeting.

The duchess gasped her amazement. “Grey?” she demanded in surprise.

“Children,” Mrs. Williams ordered in a loud stern voice. “I’m most sorry, Your Grace, I have no idea what has come over them.”

The children froze immediately at their mother’s tone, but looked between him and their parent, uncomprehendingly.

“Your Grace?” squeaked True in the high pitch of a boy who’s voice was changing.

“Your Grace?” gasped Honesty. Greyson watched her face as the truth slowly sank in. The duchess watched this exchange with interest.

Mrs. Williams apologized again as the children moved in confusion away from Greyson and formed a line near their mother.

“Your Grace, may I introduce my children.” The Williams bunch bowed and curtseyed as practiced.

The duchess moved forward and told them how happy she was that they had arrived safely and that the footman would see them to their room to freshness up. The older woman watched as the young lady, Honesty, refused to look in Greyson’s direction, but stiffly followed her family up the stairs and away from the duke.

The duchess also noted the gasp of surprise from Miss Prudence when she recognized the young Lord Byron standing to one side of the entryway. She watched her grandson’s expressionless face as he watched the Williams family disappear up the stairs, and shook her head at young love. “Oh, the tangled webs we weave when first we practice to deceive,” she recited softly for her grandson’s ears only.

He nodded slowly, “You are always right,” he whispered back, “What I need in my life is more Honesty.” His mouth tilted up ruefully at his own sad humor. His grandmother chuckled at his bad pun, and left him to sort out his mess.

♣♣♣

Honesty slammed closed the lid of her trunk. The nerve of that man. He had deceived them. Her whole family. Call me Grey he had said. How about Greyson Buckingham, the fourth duke of Devonshire. Head of one of the richest families in all the England. Forgot to mention that part. She should have realized sooner. She should have understood the clues. The well cut clothes, the matching pair that pulled his phaeton, the entrance into Buckingham Palace. Buckingham Palace! Of course, he could go to Buckingham Palace anytime he wanted and have a picnic packed for ten – He was a Buckingham after all. Honesty’s anger rose another degree hotter. He had asked to write to her when he had known all the time that they would arrive here shortly. How dare he show intentions toward her sister and flirt with her at the same time. She would roast him alive. She would. . . . She couldn’t think of anything that was bad enough just yet, but she would soon, and when she did she would . . . He would be so sorry he was ever born. Honesty opened the trunk and then slammed it shut again.

She tried to suck in a breath, but the too tight corset made it impossible. Honesty glanced over at her sister, and blinked in confusion. Pretty was sitting on the edge of the bed with a dreamy expression on her face. Honesty paused. Was her sister that taken with the duke? Had she been mistaken in thinking that Pretty was afraid of him? Not that Honesty could understand anyone being afraid of Gr – the duke – the children loved him. Honesty swallowed; she could understand her sister being star struck by Grey - the handsome duke. She blinked her eyes to hold back the angry tears.

“Did you see him?” Prudence asked dreamily.

Honestly jerked her head in a yes.

“I can’t believe it. Maybe there is still a chance.” Prudence’s eyes begged her sister to confirm that there was still hope.

“Yeah, well, that’s why we were all invited.” Honesty failed to keep the bitterness out of her voice.

Prudence smiled and jumped off the bed, “What shall we wear to dinner? Something impressive.”

Honesty frowned and gritted her teeth. If this was what Pretty wanted . . . Well, maybe she had just misread the duke’s intentions. Maybe he had just been checking out the Williams bunch to see if they could be safely invited to the castle. .. He hadn’t exactly done anything improper except flirt a bit, but that was probably before he had met Pretty.” Honesty tried to make herself swallow the hurt and the anger, but she was failing. An image of Grey holding Blue in one hand and hers in the other flashed across her mind. He could have told her. It would have been so easy. He could have just said, “Hello. I’m a duke, and I am interested in your sister." But he hadn’t. He had lied to her. She stomped to the trunk again and pulled out the light-blue gown. It was the only one that actually fit her.

“Do you think he will be at dinner?” Pretty asked.

Honesty cut your eyes to her sister’s at her silly question. “Well, it is his house.”

“No, No. Not the duke. Lord Byron.” She said his name in a breathy sigh.