Dusky Duke and the Gypsy Pirate Princess (8 page)

She shook her head no.

He then asked her the name of her favorite book, and held out his hand under the cover of the table so that she was the only one who could see it.

She frowned at his hand, and then sighed and slipped the chain into his palm with reluctance. The others did not notice this exchange. Honesty’s mouth took on a determined look and she opened her mouth to start the questions in reverse, but Lord Charles interrupted her and asked questions of her instead. As she answered them, she realized that if Greyson had not taken the trinket then Lord Charles would have. She smiled at Charles and answered truthfully that she did not have the token. He sighed in regret and moved on to the topic of French wines.

Honesty smiled and asked Greyson, “Did you have a nice day?

Greyson smiled at her game, and replied, “I had a long day. The roof fell in on the one of the parish churches. It will have to be replaced.”

“I am sorry to hear that. Is it going to be difficult?”

“No, just take more time than the town want it to.

“But you can get it fixed soon?”

Greyson smiled and shook his head. “I don’t have it.”

Honesty’s eyebrow went up.

“Honestly,”

Honesty had sat in confused puzzlement for a while before her eyes lit on the very guilty looking young Lord Charles. Greyson saw Honesty gauging the situation. Charles was sitting next to Miss Sarah Goodman. Honesty smiled at Charles.

“How was your day?”

“Marvelous,” Charles said.

“What did you do today?”

“Oh, we went riding down to the shore. It was a good time.”

Honesty watched as Charles handed the necklace back to Greyson. Her smile grew wider.

Greyson watched as the wheels turned in his angel’s head. He could see her going through the plays just like she had the night before when playing chess. She was so adorable with that look of concentration on her lovely brow.

“I have been wondering, Miss Honesty, where did you learn to play chess?”

“We live near Lord Simpson and Tagen Manor. He is a widower whose only child is married and lives in Scotland. He has a large library that he allows my family access to. It is his rule that to borrow a book, one must play him at chess. It is his favorite game.”

“He is a master player?”

“Yes, he used to belong to the Royal Chess Club in London when he lived here.”

“And do you win in your games with Lord Simpson.”

Honesty chuckled, “Not often, but True has begun winning several of their matches here lately. Pretty thinks that it is because Lord Simpson is getting older, but I think True is just that good. I haven’t won against True for at least a year now.” Greyson’s eyebrow rose at this revelation. He tried to imagine the young blonde boy standing in the sand dunes with a wooden pirate sword in his hand, hunched over a chess game winning in a game against the best chess player he had ever played. And where had she learned so much about French wines? She seemed very knowledgeable as she was talking to Lord Charles.

Greyson concentrated on his food as the conversation moved around him. He smiled when he realized that Honesty had for a time let the game with the locket drop.

At the end of the meal, Greyson stood and asked for an accounting of the token. The girls all looked in Honesty’s direction in expectation. Honesty ducked her head and refused to return their questioning gaze. After a moment when everyone started looking at each other in puzzlement, Greyson held the locket up and let it drop and swing from its chain.

“Nowhere in the rules, did it say that the opposite group must know when the token changes hands?” The young girls gasped at his possession of the prize. “But I would suggest a new rule – the token is not allowed to change hands at the dinner table. It limits the token holder and makes it impossible for them to retain possession.” Greyson could see the girls understood that Honesty had no choice but to have handed it over. “Any other suggestions?” He paused a second and then leaned forward and told Lord Charles something that was for his ears only. Lord Charles stood up, and Greyson moved his hand over Charles and dropped the necklace into his cupped hands. Charles grinned mischievously, and chuckling left the room. The others followed quickly. Greyson watched Honesty follow her mother from the room.

The Duke moved to his grandmother’s side and escorted her to her rooms.

“I invited Mrs. Williams and Lady Collins to help me with the plans for the masque ball. They will be helping me for only an hour each day for the next two weeks. . . I do hope you remember this when I want something in return.”

“Yes, Grandmother.” Greyson knew she was adding this favor to the tally she kept in her head.

“There is something you could do for me.” Greyson waited. “This game you have started is marvelous, but the eligibles are still in separate groups. At least the groups are talking to each other now.” She sighed and shook her head, “I just wish that was some way to move them along to speaking as individuals. I have never seen a more timid group of girls in my life. We only have two weeks left. They are so silly.”

“Yes, grandmother. That is why I haven’t participated in one of these retreats in almost ten years.”

His grandmother’s eyes twinkled, “I know. And the speculation among the guests – especially Claire your sister - is utterly delightful. Although, I think Teresa knows.”

“I am sure Robert told her. You know he has never been able to keep anything from her.”

“Well, keep the rest of them guessing, dear, it is more fun that way.”

“Good night, grandmother.”

Greyson leaned against the smooth wood of the paneled hallway and waited. He had taken the time he was standing in the corridor, to contemplate his next move. He stared at her door. Was she in there? Or was she in the nursery? If he knocked on the door, Pretty would most likely answer, and his presence would undoubtedly cause her to faint. It wouldn’t look right, for the duke to be checking in the nursery at midnight. Hummmm. He didn’t know how much longer he could chance waiting here. And then he heard the soft click of the nursery door far down the corridor and footsteps started in his direction. He didn’t step from the shadows until he could see her face clearly in the moonlight.

“Grey,” she hissed at him in the near darkness. “You must stop doing this.”

He stepped forward and blocked the path to her door. “Hello, darling.”

“Why are you here again?”

Greyson voice smiled as he moved closer. Honesty stepped back. He noticed that she was still wearing her dress from dinner and not the tantalizing nightgown of the night before. “I needed to return something of yours.”

“Couldn’t you have waited until morning?” Her back touched the wall.

“Oh, no, Darling, this needed to be returned to its rightful place as soon as possible.” Moonlight glittered off the silver chain as he held it between his hands and reached to clasp it behind her neck. The locket was still warm from the heat of his hands. Honesty sucked in a disconcerted breath as he moved closer and slid a hand against the skin of her neck to pull her dark curtain of hair through the chain and then let the hair fall in a cascade down her back.

Honesty now understood Lord Charles look at the end of the meal. Greyson had not actually given him the necklace. It was a sleight of hand.

Greyson stood looking at Honesty for a minute, not moving.

“Well, goodnight. . .” Honesty started too slid along the wall.

His hands planted on either side of her head in a move that Honesty was beginning to become familiar with. She stopped. “Since we both know this is where the locket belongs, and you refuse to accept it as a gift, what if we make a wager?”

“Another wager – I did not do so well with the last one.”

Greyson shrugged, “We will wager on the outcome of the token game.” The fingers of his right hand slid along the chain on the side of her neck, touching only the chain. “If the ladies win, you keep the jewelry, fair and square.” He watched as her eyes darkened to emerald. He leaned closer. His breath mingled with hers. “But if the ladies do not win, I get one kiss.” His fingers slid back up the chain. Her breathing quickened. “One kiss from you,” he added softly. He didn’t want her to be able to find a loophole in this bet.

“But the girls are playing the game so badly?”

His fingers made the return journey. “Oh, I agree,” Greyson added in a distracted tone, as he watched mesmerized as his fingers slid back and forth along the chain. He could feel her heartbeat accelerate. “To bad you don’t have a chance,”

“The guys are only up by two,” Honesty breathed trying hard to keep her mind on the right topic.

“Oh, but I doubt you could turn that around in the next two weeks.  Those girls aren’t even big enough to hold a conversation by themselves without at least three other girls to help.” His finger glided down the chain farther toward where it dipped into her cleavage. “Little girls should never bet against men. You do not stand a chance,” his chuckle was a challenge.

He felt his angel stiffened in indignation at the insult aimed directly at her.

Her eyes sparkled, “We will win, just you wait and see.”

Greyson smiled down at her in victory, “Wager accepted. Good-night, Darling.” And then he was gone in the shadows of the hallway. The only sounds were his footsteps as he strolled away.

Honesty released her pent up breath. What had he just done to her? How had she let him talk her into agreeing to another wager? One she couldn’t win no matter the outcome. She couldn’t accept the necklace even if it were the result of a wager. She touched the jewel around her neck. There was no way she could let him win a kiss. Oh, how did she get herself into these messes?

♣♣♣

After visiting the children the next day in the nursery, but finding no sign of Honesty, Greyson challenged True to a game of chess where he was soundly beaten in only a few minutes. True had shot him a very cocksure smirk before offering to play him again for favors. The duke returned the grin as he realized that the young man must have heard about the game for favors Greyson had played with his sister. Greyson declined, but promised to take the young buck driving later in the week.

After he had excused himself from the children’s play rooms, he was surprised to be approached in the hall by Mister Sinclair. Greyson recognized him as one of the tutors that worked for his family.

“Your Grace,” the older, stately man addressed him.

Greyson nodded his permission for the gentleman to speak.

“Your Grace, I was wondering if you knew of the William’s circumstance? In particular regards to the oldest boys’ education.”

“No, why do you ask?”

“Well, Sir, I know that your family has long been a supporter of the community, and have been known in the past to sponsor sons of parishioners to Eton.”

Greyson nodded his head. When someone in their towns showed great promise his family had been known to spend them to Eton, an elite boy’s school. “And you would suggest True Williams?”

“Yes, Sir, and his younger brother, Just. They are very intelligent and their education to this point may have been unique, but their basics are strong – except for the lack of Latin, which they will have to learn – I should think that they could succeed there quite well.”

“What do you mean - their education has been unique?”

“Well, Sir, from what I understand they have had no formal training except for instruction from their elder sister and access to a scholar’s library.”

“Thank you for approaching me in this matter. I will think on it.”

“Good day, Your Grace.”

♣♣♣

After lunch, Greyson approached Mrs. William and Miss Prudence. “I was wondering if Miss Prudence would consider taking a turn around the gardens with me before it gets too hot outside.”

Mrs. Williams assured him that her daughter would be delighted indeed, and smiled at the other matrons like a cat who had swallowed the canary. Miss Prudence donned a large hat to protect her fair skin and so did her mother. Just as they reached the veranda, the duchess called across the room and reminded Mrs. Williams of their intended meeting. Greyson watched Mrs. William’s face as she waffled between her duty and the privileged honor his grandmother had placed upon her. “Do not worry, we shall stay within clear sight of the house.”

Mrs. Williams nodded her consent and hurried to the duchess’s side.

Greyson took Miss Prudence’s arm and escorted her into the gardens. He observed her from the corner of his eye as she watched him like a scared rabbit watches a fox right before it become dinner.

“One of the tutors in the nursery approached me today about advancing your brothers’ education. I wanted to ask you what subjects they had studied.”

He saw a flicker of intelligence behind the large blue eyes. Even in her fear, she recognized a chance to help her brothers. She licked her dry lips and nodded.

“They are very smart.”

“But being intelligent and being able to catch up at fifteen with what is expected of a boy at Eton . . .”

Pretty’s eyes widened at the slight promise of his words. “We have all studied the classics, and sciences, and history, plenty of history.”

“We . . . you mean yourself also?”

Pretty nodded uneasily sensing the trap that was about to spring. “Yes, Your Grace.”

“So let’s see what you know – if you are up for the game.”

He could tell that she really didn’t want to, but could find no way to detour him.

“The capital of Egypt?”

“Cairo”

The standards act?

“A political bill before the house currently to standardize weights and measures.

The generals of the Napoleonic Wars?

Petty’s brow knitted in concentration, "Surely, you can’t expect me to remember them all… oh, well…. Napoleon, of course, and Ney, right? And that other guy, Mmmm, something.”

The best French wine to serve with pheasant?

Pretty tilted her head at him in amused confusion and answered, “Bordeaux red is acceptable.”

Greyson smiled, “How would one find if a house is true to square?”

Pretty bowed her head, “Oh, you would have to ask me a numbers question. Honesty is always nagging on me about my arithmetic.”

Just then they rounded a hedgerow in the garden to find Lord Byron sitting nervously on the bench. When he saw them, he jumped to his feet.

Greyson explained, “I am afraid Miss Prudence that you are the victim of an intrigue. My dear friend, Lord Byron, has wanted to ask you to walk with him, but lacks the nerve to ask himself. I am, but a poor messenger sent to deliver you to his arm, if you will allow? If not, I shall escort you back to the house. Which would you prefer?”

Pretty glanced back it the house uncertainly and then smiled tentatively at Lord Byron.

“As myself and Miss Prudence have been talking I realize that you are right Lord Byron she is indeed intelligent as well as beautiful. I approve of your interest.”

Both Lord Byron and Miss Prudence blushed to the roots of their hair.

Greyson turned to Pretty, “When your mother inquires to your being escorted by Lord Byron, tell her we met up in the gardens with Lord Byron and then I was called away.” He turned to Lord Byron. “Mrs. Williams should be engaged for an hour. Keep to the far gardens and try to avoid being seen by the other matrons.” The two men shook hands and Greyson quickly disappeared.

As Greyson slid into his chair behind the desk in his study, he pondered what he had learned. Honesty had not only educated herself, she had taken on the task of educating all of her siblings. So well that a learned tutor believed that Truth and Justice – he grinned at their names – could successfully compete at Eton. Quite a feat. But he smirked to himself; she wasn’t perfect after all. She didn’t know Latin.

♣♣♣

Honesty looked up from her book as Pretty waltzed into the room. From the dreamy look on her face, Honesty could say that Lord Bryon had deemed to look in her direction at some time that morning.

“What have you been up to?”

“Oh, I had an utterly perfect day. You will never believe what happened – the duke asked me to go for a walk with him in the gardens.” Pretty twirled around in circles her arms outspread.

Honesty frowned at Pretty’s words and her actions. Could she have been wrong about her sister’s feelings toward the duke? Her chest tightened, but her sister continued. “Mama was occupied by the duchess, and the duke walked with me in the garden, we ran into Walter.” Pretty waltzed the other direction.

“Walter?”

Pretty flashed her eyes at her sister with a knowing glance, “Lord Walter Byron,” she explained.

Honesty’s chest loosened and she sucked in a breath. “Oh, so you are on a first name basis now.”

Pretty giggled. “You know they planned it - The duke and  Walter,” as she said his name she sighed dramatically. “The duke says I am intelligent as well as beautiful, and he approves of Walter’s,” the sigh again, “interest.”

Honesty frowned. Maybe Grey’s open approval of the match would be enough to edge mama into accepting the match. No, she knew better. Mama wanted Pretty to marry the duke. She had her mind set on it.

“Pretty,” Honesty sat forward, closing her book, “Mama .”

Her sister flopped across the foot of the bed, “I know, I know. .. but Honest, I want to marry Walter. How do we convince mama that I don’t want to marry the duke? Although, he is not as scary as I thought, and he was so nice to Walter and myself today. Do you know that he has arranged for mama to be busy with the duchess for a whole hour each afternoon between now and the masque?” Pretty rolled over and looked at her sister intently, “and what is this is hear from True and Vickie about the duke spending time with you at the beach? You know that mama expressly forbid you to have anything to do with him again after she found out about the trip to Buckingham Palace.”

Honesty ducked her head and tried to find a way to explain the situation to her sister and best friend. She tucked on the emerald locket as she thought of a way to start.

Pretty’s eyes grew wide as she recognized the trinket, and scrambling up next to her sister, she pulled the necklace away from her neck and held it, trapping her sister by the chain. “Where did you get this?...” At her sister’s blush, Pretty knew, “You got it from him. What?” Pretty finally put the pieces of the puzzle together. “It is you he is interested in. When he first approached me it was you he was trying to find. And I didn’t tell him, but he figured out who you were anyways.” Honesty cut her eyes away from Pretty’s accusing stare, “You better start at the beginning and tell me everything,” she demanded.