Say Yes to the Duke (11 page)

One duke who came with a warning from a source she wasn’t sure she could trust yet?
Or one life that went nowhere, that drifted aimlessly and desperately until she faded
away?

Janice knew which risk she’d take her chances on.

“No, I tell you.” Her eyes glittered with resolve.
“No.”

That was better.

She headed downstairs to the red drawing room, prepared for battle.

Chapter Nine

Everything was different now. Janice was different. Other than Ladies Opal and Rose,
which of the occupants of the drawing room—none of whom apparently wanted Janice there—knew
the rumor about her and Finn? Who believed it? Who didn’t?

It was such an overwhelming question, she actually couldn’t care. What could she do
about it anyway? The ugly tittle-tattle, it seemed, had unlocked a place in her that
had always feared the worst—that she wouldn’t be liked, that she wasn’t good enough.

She still couldn’t believe that unbeknownst to her, she’d been the victim of gossip.
Of a spurious story.

Yet she’d survived, thanks to her family’s good name.

And she’d continue surviving—but now it would be because she took an active role in
her own future.

In the corner by the fire, a lovely woman, no more than twenty-five, sat quietly stitching.
She wore a modest pale lavender muslin gown and matching lavender paisley shawl, the
colors of light mourning. But the garments couldn’t disguise the luxuriousness of
her hair—a rich walnut hue—or her beautiful cream-and-rose complexion.

The other members of the house party were gathered in their usual spots around the
low table.

The men stood when Janice arrived.

“I trust you’ve settled in?” There was nothing beyond politeness in the duke’s question.

“Yes, very well, thanks,” she told him.

The lady by the fire directed an endearing smile Janice’s way. She had bright, intelligent
eyes, and Janice immediately got the feeling that at least
she
wanted her there.

Halsey introduced them. “This is Mrs. Friday, a widow, former schoolteacher, and your
new chaperone. She recently moved in with her sister, whose husband is one of our
farmers.”

“Thank you for coming to stay,” Janice told her, “and I’m so sorry for your loss.”
She couldn’t imagine how Mrs. Friday was feeling.

“It’s been a little over a year now.” Mrs. Friday smiled a sweet half smile. “And
I’m glad to be here, if only to get some peace. My sister has three young boys. It’s
a happy household but a loud one.”

“I hope your sister can do without you.” Janice smiled back. “I have three brothers,
so I know what havoc they can wreak.”

Mrs. Friday laughed. “She’ll do well, I promise you. The boys assure me they’ll take
fine care of her.”

They both grinned at that.

With some hope in her heart that she might have acquired a friend as well as a chaperone,
Janice took a seat next to Miss Branson. When the duke’s male friends sat down again,
Janice didn’t even attempt to guess what they were thinking, although Lady Rose’s
earlier insistence that they wanted her gone, too, gave her reason to tilt her chin
up a fraction of an inch more than usual.

“Good evening,” she told the company.

They had no idea what they were in for. But as resolute as she was to proceed as she’d
planned, fear over what she was about to do made her severely mute.

The Duke of Halsey was an excellent conversationalist. Lord Yarrow and Lord Rowntree
made the occasional bland remark, reinforcing her impression that they weren’t very
distinguished themselves, and the questionable women—Lady Opal, Lady Rose, and Miss
Branson—interjected fairly amusing comments as well.

But the duke steered the topics and set the tone. Janice stayed quiet, murmuring only
a few words of agreement.

But she would have to change that.
Now.
She took a deep, quiet breath and in the back of her mind hoped that Mrs. Friday,
at least, would be happy with what she was about to say.

“Your Grace”—she noticed that Mrs. Friday looked up from her stitching with a warm
smile of encouragement—“I enjoyed meeting your grandmother very much. In fact, rather
than leave when the roads clear and my carriage wheel is fixed, I’ve decided to stay
the full month as she requested I do in the letter, as long as Mrs. Friday can spare
the additional time away from her sister.”

“Of course I can.” Mrs. Friday’s enthusiasm was touching.

The duke hesitated only a fraction of a second. “Oh, but that won’t be necessary,
Lady Janice. You’re very kind, but we have plenty of people in the household to provide
my grandmother company.”

“Oh? According to Her Grace’s nurse, no one but you has been to visit her, Your Grace.”
Janice looked round at the other guests. “Since some of you have been here at least
several weeks, I made the assumption that you’d have done so by now had you intended
to.”

There was a brief pause.

“I’ll be happy to go see her,” said Miss Branson. “I
like
old ladies. I simply forgot about her. I never
see
her, for God’s sake.”

Janice was tempted to smile. She did enjoy Miss Branson’s over-the-top speech.

“We’re only following doctor’s orders,” the duke said on the heels of Miss Branson’s
colorful remark. “My grandmother needs peace and solace. But perhaps the occasional
visit won’t be untoward.”

“I’ll go,” said Lady Opal. “I’m sure we’ll find something to talk about.”

“We’ll all go together, shall we?” Lady Rose spoke as if she, her sister, and Miss
Brandon would be entering a tiger’s lair rather than an elderly woman’s bedchamber.

“Damn tootin’,” said Miss Branson.

Lady Opal nodded vigorously in assent.

Janice wished she could be happier about their enthusiasm, but she saw, of course,
that this was their way of helping her leave the house party and return to London
while they maintained guilt-free consciences.

“I’m sure your grandmother would enjoy seeing Lords Rowntree and Yarrow as well.”
Janice looked at them expectantly.

Lord Rowntree cleared his throat. “I-I’ll be happy to visit Her Grace.”

“As will I,” said Lord Yarrow.

“Wonderful.” She couldn’t help smiling at the two men, who looked stonily back at
her. “All these visitors will do her good.”

“True, my lady,” said the duke. “Which means that when the roads clear, you may return
to your family with no worries about Granny.”

Janice didn’t know if she should laugh or cry at how blatant His Grace was being about
wanting to be rid of her, but she decided she’d find greater satisfaction in focusing
on her new plan instead: making him want her to
stay.

“
No,
Your Grace,” she said lightly but firmly. “But thank you for your thoughtful offer.
I intend to follow through on my promise to the dowager and stay the entire month.”

Janice gazed at him without blinking and smiled graciously, as she’d been taught by
Mama to do. For a few seconds, the only thing she heard was the snap of a log in the
fireplace and the ticking of the clock on the mantel.

“Lady Janice,” he said in serious tones, “you do yourself credit by volunteering to
stay. But I must insist you go. My grandmother never should have written you. It’s
all an unfortunate mistake, and you shouldn’t have to pay the price for our lapse
in not better overseeing her activities. Go back to London. Enjoy the Little Season.
Be frivolous. A girl your age shouldn’t be burdened with the needs of an ill old woman.”

Janice inhaled a light breath through her nose. “No, thank you, Your Grace. Nothing
shall change my mind. I’m a guest of the dowager.”
Not your guest
was her distinct implication. “I’ll remain the month, per her wishes.”

She felt the weight of every eye in the room on her, all of them disapproving, save
for Mrs. Friday, who still watched her as if she found her interesting and even likeable.

“Well, then.” The duke cocked his head at her and shot her another half smile that
didn’t quite reach his eyes. “You shall stay.
Granny,
I’m sure, will be delighted.”

His implication? That he wouldn’t be.

Touché.

She would give him that paltry success.

Little did he know that soon he’d be begging her to stay himself.

Their gazes locked, and although there was no shift of power, she saw a glimmer of
interest—
real
interest—in his eyes. However cool it was, it was better than his previous indifference.

The women exchanged uneasy glances while Lord Yarrow stroked his chin and watched
her. Lord Rowntree’s mouth curled in what could only be termed a light sneer.

Move on while you’re ahead,
Janice told herself. This was a game. A giant game. And she intended to win.

“From what I saw of them this afternoon,” she told the duke, “your stables appear
quite filled with prime goers.”

It wasn’t much, but it was something.

“They are, indeed.” He had a lazy yet demanding way of speaking that made one feel
in the presence of a powerful man, which he was, of course. “Speaking of the stables,
is your coachman well?”

“He had a fainting spell.” Ironically, it had happened
after
Janice told the fib that Oscar was ill. “But he’s doing better, thank you.” She wanted
to go again to the stables to see him and the puppies—
and Mr. Callahan,
a wicked portion of her brain taunted her. “I think I’ll check on him later tonight
to ensure that he’s back to his old self.”

“Very good.” The duke crossed his legs nonchalantly and took a sip of something golden
in his glass. “And tomorrow you’ll take a tour of the stables and choose a horse to
ride when the weather improves.”

There he went, ordering her about again.

“Just ask the head groom to show you around,” the duke added. Because
he
certainly wasn’t interested in escorting her there, she knew. “I assume you’re a
good rider.”

Again, it wasn’t a question.

Janice gave a soft shrug. “According to my brothers, I am, Your Grace, and they’re
tough critics.”

“Ah.” He took a sip of his drink. “The young men of the Brady household. I’ve seen
them at Tattersalls. All excellent horsemen themselves.” His indifferent gaze wandered
to a piece of lint on his boot, which he flicked off with his index finger. “When
the weather improves, we’ll ride out together to the dower house. I stop by once a
month. You’ll want to see the stove house where the exotic flowers are grown.”

That sounded lovely! And then she remembered the dowager’s advice.…

“No, thank you.” Janice was kind but firm. Her heart was going so fast, she was sure
everyone could see it.

“Really?” The duke’s brow furrowed. “Why not?”

Her mind raced as she looked around at the other guests, all of whom were watching
her most curiously, including Mrs. Friday. “I-I don’t mind riding out with women.”
She hoped she sounded calm and collected. “But not men.”

Oh, heavens. That sounded so peculiar.

“Why?” asked Lord Rowntree, his brow furrowed deeply.

She didn’t know why. But she’d had to think of
something
to resist the duke’s wishes. “I-I find I want to challenge men to races and quite
lose my temper if I lose.” Actually, she’d done this on several occasions with her
brothers, so it wasn’t really a lie. “You see, I become too hoydenish, at least according
to my brothers Peter and Robert.” She chuckled, feeling more confident as she called
upon amusing memories to fill out her elaborate explanation. “So I simply avoid those
circumstances. Not for my sake. But for others’. I can be quite frightening, the boys
tell me.”

She smiled and shrugged. Let them think what they would. She was done with being agreeable
all the time.

“You? Frightening?” asked Lord Yarrow in astonishment.

“I think so,” she said brightly. “Perhaps you need to be a brother of mine to believe
it possible.”

“And you enjoy losing your temper?” asked Lady Opal.

Janice thought about it a moment. “I never realized I did until now, but yes. I believe
I do. But it doesn’t happen very often. Perhaps I should lose it more.”

She said the last part playfully, but there was another silence. The duke watched
her intently, his mouth curved slightly at one corner.

“Ladies,” Janice forged on, “when the weather improves, I’ll be happy to ride with
you to the stove house, and the men can follow later. Would you consider it?”

Mrs. Friday moved the needle through the frame with such regularity that Janice found
her presence comforting. Now she looked up. “Of course,” she said, smiling.

But winces of various degrees appeared on the faces of the other women.

“Without the men?” said Lady Opal. “I think not.”

“No, thank you.” Lady Rose stared at Janice as if she were mad.

“Over my dead body,” said Miss Branson with a huff, then looked at His Grace. “And
I thought we Americans were the brash ones.”

“What a shame.” Janice took a slow sip of ratafia, astonished that she didn’t feel
foolish for turning a ridiculous lie about not wanting to ride with men into the semblance
of the truth. She
was
a bit competitive in the saddle. “Perhaps you ladies can ride out with the men then.
I’ll stay behind with Mrs. Friday and the dowager.”

What did the duke think of her outrageous speech? She wished she could tell.

He uncrossed his legs and leaned forward. “I’ve a solution, Lady Janice. We’ll go
while there’s snow on the ground. We’ll ride in two sleighs. That way you’ll have
no chance of being hoydenish around men on horseback and we can all arrive together.
We’ll bring a picnic of strawberries and sparkling wine.”

She was somewhat taken aback, but she kept a calm smile glued to her lips.

Strawberries? Sparkling wine? Those were rather whimsical picnic items.…