Say Yes to the Duke (35 page)

The duke scoffed. “Those Irish.”

She nearly kicked him in the shins. “You’d be lucky, sir, to have a little Irish in
you. Perhaps it would make your heart softer. How you could ever wish to coerce a
woman into marriage is beyond me.”

His eyes flashed with irritation. “Outside, madam. We’ll see what’s what.”

She stood on tiptoe to see her friend. “Mrs. Friday?”

Janice’s chaperone looked up, her face alight with interest. “Are we ready? I can’t
wait to meet the family.”

“Yes,” said Janice. “And you’ll love them, I’m sure. Please don’t be intimidated by
them, even when they talk over one another. They mean well.”

Mrs. Friday laughed. “I’ll be sure to give everyone the benefit of the doubt.”

The duke was pouting. He still appeared regal and commanding, but there was a noticeable
crease on either side of his mouth as they walked outside. Janice didn’t care. He’d
been warned.

In the hall, she remembered that Isobel would like to be there greeting the family,
and she assumed Oscar already knew out in the stables. So the butler sent a maid to
the room off the kitchen to retrieve Isobel, where she was keeping the puppies and
Esmeralda company.

Janice, Mrs. Friday, and Halsey made it to the bottom of the front steps just as the
carriages rolled up to the door. Thankfully, numerous footmen had already stationed
themselves outside to greet them. The ubiquitous hounds poured out the front door,
baying, but with one snap of the duke’s fingers they sat quietly near him, their haunches
quivering in excitement.

Janice refused to wonder what Luke was doing. No doubt he’d help with the horses.
But it was his own fault if he came over to assist and she didn’t look at him. Let
him wonder what he was giving up.

Once again, she was overcome with relief from her anxiety when she saw everyone getting
out of their vehicles. Much of her family were here: Mama and Daddy; Marcia and Duncan
and their three children, Joe, Caroline, and Suzanne, all of whom must have been in
London visiting; and Janice’s siblings Peter, Robert, and Cynthia. Gregory was still
living in Paris with his Pippa and their darling Bertie, but that was all right. They
were due to arrive back in London in a few days for a visit.

Janice was glad to see that Marcia and Duncan had brought a special guest with them,
too, the Duke of Beauchamp, who was practically a member of the family. His ruddy,
expressive face looked up with such delight at seeing Janice, she laughed out loud.
One never knew if Beauchamp was going to be in a good mood or bad, but he never hid
his emotions and even when he was in a bad mood he was somehow charming.

One always knew where one stood with him. Perhaps that was one reason he was a compelling
figure—that and the fact that his own brand of ducal authority was so much more substantial
than Halsey’s, Janice realized now. It was because Beauchamp had a heart—a loving,
big heart—whereas Halsey appeared to have none.

Funny, Halsey and Luke were alike in some ways: neither had grown up with much love,
it appeared. Halsey had had his grandmother and mother to a limited extent. And Luke
had had his mother for a short time and the nuns. But Luke, although he shied from
relationships, was capable of tender feelings.

Why wasn’t Halsey? Was it born in him to be so hard? Or was it a choice he’d made?

Of course it was a choice, she told herself. He didn’t deserve pity. And she wouldn’t
give it to him. Neither, of course, did Luke, although she’d told him she’d pitied
him today to rile him. He would hate that she did.

She hoped her so-called pity would give him pause.

Janice, of course, had eyes only for her parents as the crowd merged together and
came toward her.

Mama threw open her arms, and Janice ran to embrace her.

“Mama.” She squeezed her hard. “I’m so glad you’re here.”

Janice’s sweet-smelling mother pulled back and smiled at her broadly. “Darling, how
fast things have changed!” She looked Janice up and down. “You’ve become a woman in
love! I can see it in your eyes, dearest.” She gave her a kiss on the cheek.

Janice’s heart broke once more hearing Mama say that. She
was
in love—with a man she couldn’t have.

“Mama, there’s so much I need to explain. Look for Mrs. Friday—she’s my chaperone.”

“So the duke told us in his letter. The dowager was unable to serve in that role?”

Janice nodded.

Mama’s eyes grew large. “Whyever not?”

“She—she’s addled,” Janice said. “She thinks she’s the Queen.”

“My goodness.” Mama’s face paled. “The duke didn’t mention that.”

“But it’s not all the time,” Janice assured her. “And she’s quite all right, once
you get to understand her.”

Mama regained her usual brisk manner. “Well, I’m sure you did a beautiful job sorting
it all out, and I can’t wait to hear all the details.”

Daddy, too, hugged Janice as if she’d been gone for ages rather than a few weeks.
“We’ll need to talk,” he murmured in her ear. “I won’t give a word of consent unless
this is what you truly want. I don’t give a rabbit’s foot that he’s a duke.”

“But I thought you and Mama were anxious for me to marry him if I could,” she said
back.

The hubbub was making it easy for them to speak up without really having to whisper.

“Oh, parents can get a little too set in their expectations, sometimes,” Daddy said.
“You know we only want what’s best for you, darling girl.”

He looked straight into her heart with those big Irish eyes. She hadn’t planned to
tell him until later, when they could be alone.

“Janice?” he asked with such love, she swallowed hard.

“I don’t want this, Daddy,” she said in a ragged whisper. “Help me get out of it.
Please.”

“I suspected as much,” he said.

“How?”

“You could have gotten a letter to us, too, but you didn’t.” He squeezed her arm.
“Consider it done. We’ll talk after it’s all over.”

“I love you,” she managed to say before she was pulled away by her younger siblings,
Cynthia and Robert, who insisted on showing her Robert’s black eye, which he’d received
in a terrible fight he’d gotten into at Tattersalls with another young man who’d accused
him of poor taste in horses.

“Robert,” Janice chided him, although in the back of her mind she was still back there
with Daddy, “you believed him?”

“No,” Robert said in his light Irish accent, “but I was looking for a good excuse
to fight. So was he. It was a grand one, too.”

Cynthia rolled her eyes. “Men are so uncivilized.”

Janice couldn’t help thinking of Luke and his knuckle boxing. She’d heard him discussing
it with Aaron. “I hope you kept your shoulders down,” she told Robert. “That way you
have greater power behind each punch. If you hunch up, you’re going to lose.”

She showed him how when he pivoted from the waist with his punching arm at the ready
the leverage behind his punch was far greater when he kept his shoulders down.

His eyes widened. “What’s happened to you?”

Cynthia asked the same thing.

“Nothing.” Janice shrugged, and with an inward smile went to greet the rest of the
family.

No one mentioned anything about her unofficial engagement. Not even Cynthia and Robert.
They knew that Daddy had yet to have a private meeting first with Janice and then
with the Duke of Halsey.

The small children were hugged and fussed over by Janice and then taken upstairs for
their own tea with Isobel. Oscar, who’d come jogging over to greet Janice’s parents
and the rest of the family he called his own, returned to the stables, well satisfied
that all had arrived without mishap, including the horses.

Janice, of course, noticed with a heavy heart that Luke never appeared in front of
the house to take any horses with the other stablemen, three of whom she’d seen assisting
Oscar.

But she wouldn’t think of Luke. She simply wouldn’t, although her back was sore, her
breasts tender, and the V between her thighs still tingled at the memory of what they’d
done together in the cellar.

For the rest of the party, tea was served immediately in the drawing room, along with
thin slices of buttered bread, tender roast beef, and fine cheese. Beautiful iced
cakes were available, too, along with strawberries, grapes, and sparkling wine. Halsey
was at his best, Janice noticed: formal but polite, witty on occasion, and even slightly
warm. He was well able to carry his own with Daddy and the Duke of Beauchamp. He never
appeared to be overwhelmed by the loud buzz of conversation.

Mrs. Friday, too, seemed at ease, which Janice was so pleased to see.

“And how is Her Grace?” Mama asked in the first lull of conversation, which didn’t
occur until everyone had their cup of tea in hand.

Janice knew that Mama was extremely curious about what had happened to the dowager.

“Well, thank you,” said Halsey, “as much can be expected for someone in her condition.”

Everyone was too polite to ask him for more details.

Janice rushed in. “She’s such a dear, and she’s in a new bedchamber now—we moved her.
I felt she was too cooped up—”

“By her own choice, of course,” said Halsey. “Your daughter, Lady Brady, reminded
Her Grace that there
is
a world beyond the confines of her room, for which I’m grateful.”

Mama looked well pleased.

“A man doesn’t always notice these things,” Halsey went on. “I tend to hole up in
my library, hunt, or hang about the stables when I’m out in the country. Speaking
of which, I need to get you men out there to tour them.”

“That’s a fine idea,” Daddy said with his usual affable charm, but behind it Janice
could sense him taking the man’s measure.

Sitting next to him, she could even
feel
the way Daddy was ready to protect her. It was his favorite thing, to look after
his family, and he excelled at it.

“How’s the estate faring?” the Duke of Beauchamp asked Halsey.

“Tolerably well,” he said. “I’ll be happy to show you around. We’ve made some improvements.”

“Those are always good,” Duncan said with a friendly smile. “We’ll have to compare
notes sometime.”

“And backing up my father, I’m keen to see your stables,” said Peter, who was horse
mad, as all good Irishmen were.

Looking about the room, Janice was vaguely alarmed. Everyone seemed to
like
Halsey. Marcia and Cynthia were already beaming at him as if he were their new brother-in-law.
Good God, everyone but Daddy was beaming, not just Janice’s sisters.

Halsey took it in as if he expected it.

Which he did, of course.

Janice was so relieved that she’d already spoken to Daddy, or she’d have felt very
alone. It was going to be extremely difficult to disappoint this entire room of people.

“You wrote to us of your grandmother’s orchids,” Mama said to Halsey. “Do we have
time to see them today?”

“Mama’s been talking of nothing else,” said Marcia, “and I confess, I’d love to see
them, too.”

“Peter and I can stay behind,” said Robert, “to tour the stables. Would you mind,
Mama?”

“Not a bit,” she said. “In fact, let’s break up—the women shall see the orchids, and
the men may go see the duke’s horses.”

Halsey agreed that this was an excellent plan, although Beauchamp overrode it and
said he’d prefer to stay behind and visit with the dowager. Another cacophony resounded
as everyone spoke at once.

“We’ll find a moment to talk,” Janice overheard Halsey tell Daddy.

“Of course,” Daddy replied.

Janice sighed, dreading the eventual conflict. She hoped Halsey would bow out gracefully,
but she doubted it. He’d promised a good fight, but if he was clever he’d see that
Daddy was no man to roll over and give up if he had something at stake.

Which he did—Janice’s happiness, as he’d reassured her.

She would trust in his skills as patriarch of the family.

Meanwhile, she had to think about when to tell Mama and her sisters. She dreaded the
carriage ride to the stove house and the inevitable questions about her whirlwind
courtship with the duke.

Chapter Thirty-two

Janice needn’t have worried about the ride to the stove house. Cynthia told her all
about her latest shopping activities in London, and then Marcia outlined all the details
about the upcoming Christmas pageant at Oak Hall, which they began preparing for months
in advance. Mama even had a story to share about one of the servants, who had married
a servant from a neighboring house.

It was all very breezy and comforting.

When the carriage passed the Oriental gazebo and Cynthia rhapsodized over it, it was
Janice’s first uncomfortable moment. The memories she associated with that gazebo
weren’t at all fond ones.

But she maintained a cheerful expression anyway, especially when they arrived at the
dower house and were greeted warmly by the house staff. After Mama graciously declined
tea on all their behalfs, they strolled down the stone path—now clear of all traces
of snow—to the stove house, where the elderly gardener welcomed the ladies with his
usual good cheer.

The introductions were made, and he rubbed his hands together in obvious delight.
“You’ve caught me at a good moment,” he told them. “I’m potting quite a beauty.”

“Show us,” said Mama.

“An orchid man always likes an enthusiastic visitor,” he told her.

“No one is more keen to admire and learn about orchids than my mother,” Janice told
him.

Marcia and Cynthia followed behind and looked about the stove house in wonder.

“Isn’t it amazing?” she asked them.

“Yes,” they both said together.

All of them listened in rapt attention while the gardener told them how difficult
it had been to grow the variety of orchid he was working with in that pot. “Let me
show you what it looked like a month ago.”

“How will you?” Mama asked him.