School For Heiresses 2- Only a Duke Will Do (3 page)

“Then they are very secret indeed.” The damned female had acted as if he were any bloody gentleman she might meet at a party, instead of the first man to ever kiss her. “I certainly saw no sign of them earlier.

”

“You will. Put that charm of yours to work. God knows you’re more eligible now than ever, after your heroic actions at the Battle of Kirkee.”

He sucked in a harsh breath. “Yes, wasn’t it heroic of me to close the stable door after the horses had escaped?”

The king eyed him with a curious gaze. “You acted on good intelligence. No one blames you for what happened at Poona.”

No one but himself. Because no one but him recognized the enormity of his misjudgment. He might have prevented the razing of Poona if only—

But going over and over it did no good. He had learned from it, and now he meant to make good use of what he’d learned. And to make amends for his error. That was only right.

“The point is,” the king went on, “Louisa still cares for you—I’m sure of it. And if you got her to fall in love with you once, you can do it again.”

The tantalizing appeal of that alarmed him. He did not need the likes of Louisa North in his life right now.

“Ah, but I don’t want to do it again.”

“Even if I make sure you’re the next prime minister? Liverpool needs to resign after the mess at St. Peter’

s Field. Even the other ministers acknowledge that it would soothe the populace to see him step down.”

And the other ministers were even worse than Liverpool, but they could be dismissed if Liverpool was gone. Judging from the MPs Simon had spoken to, the general feeling was that the entire current government needed dismantling.

Perhaps change was finally in the wind. Perhaps the time had finally come to sever the dead wood before it brought the English oak crashing down.

But that didn’t mean Simon could trust George with the axe.

“And what will you do if Louisa refuses to marry me or claims I broke her heart a second time?” Simon asked. “No. I will not risk my career yet again.” He stalked toward the door.

“At least take time to think about it,” the king said. “If you do this for me, I swear you won’t regret it. And if you don’t…” George trailed off meaningfully.

Bloody hell, the king still had the power to make a great deal of trouble. But why would he resort to threats over Louisa marrying? It made no sense.

Perhaps Simon should learn more about the situation before he burned any bridges. “I will consider it.”

At least until he learned the king’s motives.

Since he clearly would not get the truth from George, that left only one other source—Louisa. Perhaps she knew what prompted the king’s concern.

Whether she would tell him was another matter. He would have to be careful in his questions, but he would get answers. Because he dared not proceed with his own plans until he knew exactly what the king was up to.

And how the tempting and dangerous Louisa North played into the equation.
Chapter Two

Dear Charlotte,

I have never heard anything but rumor about what happened between Miss North and Foxmoor. And what gentleman would dare ask the duke about it, after the Battle of Kirkee? Any man whose words can incite a tiny force of sepoys to fight and triumph over a vast enemy is no one I’d want to tangle with. Quaking in my boots,

Your Cousin Michael

S o the Duke of High-and-Mighty was still causing trouble. That did not surprise Louisa in the least. The monkey, however, was something of a shock. And who on earth brought a monkey to a social affair? Only someone arrogant and sure of his welcome, someone who liked to pay compliments that would make any woman blush—

“How bad is it?” asked a plaintive voice.

Louisa jerked. She was supposed to be examining Lady Trusbut’s head, which presently lay in her lap. “I haven’t found it yet.”

She and the baroness sat in Castlemaine’s drawing room. Surprisingly, after recovering from her faint, the woman had put herself entirely into Louisa’s hands, even lying down on the damask sofa when they’d entered so that Louisa could look at her scalp while a servant fetched Regina. Given this unexpected opportunity to make her case to the woman, Louisa should not be woolgathering about Simon. Good heavens, she mustn’t think of him as “Simon” either. He was the Duke of Foxmoor to her now, nothing more. If she’d had any sense seven years ago, she would have realized it then, no matter what dribble he spouted about her eyes and her hair and how he felt—

Felt, hah! The man had no feelings. Those were reserved for lesser mortals than the great duke. She’d been a fool ever to believe otherwise.

But she really ought to thank him. Because of him, she’d taught herself to be wiser, modeling her behavior on that of Regina and the ladies at court. These days the duke wasn’t the only one who could hide his true feelings behind an unreadable smile. Though it had taken Louisa years to learn how to restrain her volatile emotions, she’d done it, by heaven. And tonight she’d triumphed, handling the mighty duke himself with ladylike reserve.

Now if only her hands would stop quaking and her insides quivering and her blood raging through her veins.

She scowled. It wasn’t fair. How could that manipulative scoundrel still heat her up with just one unsettling glance from those searing blue eyes? She didn’t need this. She’d finally gained her chance to speak privately with the skittish baroness, and that lying devil wasn’t going to ruin it for her.

“I can’t find the wound,” Louisa said. “And the monkey seems to have left some odd-looking bits of chaff.”

“That’s birdseed, dear,” the baroness twittered.

“Birdseed?” The woman had birdseed in her hair, for heaven’s sake!

“My birds are messy eaters,” Lady Trusbut said as if that explained everything. “But at least they don’t attack people for no reason.”

“Yes, birds make lovely pets.” When they weren’t depositing their feed in one’s hair.

“Do you keep birds?” Lady Trusbut asked, brightening.

She kept cats. They liked to eat birds. Probably not the best thing to mention. “My brother keeps swans,

” she hedged.

“No one ‘keeps’ swans, my dear,” Lady Trusbut said disparagingly. “They’re ornamental, and ill-tempered, besides. But a pretty canary will entertain you with song for hours with nary a complaint. Or there’s the finch, with its…”

As Lady Trusbut waxed poetic about her friendly flock, Louisa picked her way through seed chaff and wondered how to steer the conversation back to the London Ladies Society. She didn’t want to frighten the baroness off, after all.

Louisa finally found the source of the blood and dabbed at it with her handkerchief. “Your wound isn’t very bad. Just a scratch.”

“It hurts like the dickens,” Lady Trusbut protested.

“I’m sure it does,” Louisa said soothingly. “As soon as Regina comes, she’ll put ointment on it. She volunteers at Chelsea Hospital, you know.”

“I shall probably catch some vile disease from that odious monkey.”

Louisa stifled her impulse to point out that Lady Trusbut could catch something just as easily from her birds.

“You were very brave, my dear. I wouldn’t have made it out of the melee otherwise. How clever of you to tempt the creature with punch! I could never have thought of it. I’m not quick on my feet. My canaries always say so.”

“Your canaries talk?”

“Don’t be silly—they’re canaries. But that doesn’t mean I can’t understand what they think.” Louisa was still trying to decipher that, when Lady Trusbut added, “I’m sure they would agree that your capture of that willful beast was magnificent.” Lady Trusbut tilted her head to peer up at Louisa. “Did you learn that sort of quick thinking from your little group?”

At last, the chance she’d been waiting for! “I’ve learned many things from the fine and dedicated women of the London Ladies Society.”

“How long have you been a member?”

“Three years. I was the one who established the group.”

Lady Trusbut made a tsking sound. “A young lady like you should be thinking about marriage, not reform.”

Louisa tensed at the familiar criticism. “I think about both. But since I can only find time to do one, my conscience dictates that I choose the latter.”

Her conscience…and her raging terror. Although it was true she could do more good as a reforming spinster than as some overbearing lord’s wife, it was really the thought of what marriage wrought that kept her from it.

Childbirth. Doctors. Blood and horror.

After what her beloved half sister, Princess Charlotte, had endured…she could never live through that. No matter how often she told herself that women bore children safely every day, the bloody birth she’d secretly witnessed preyed on her mind. If even a princess could die in such agony, surrounded by the best doctors, anyone could suffer the same, including her.

A shudder wracked her. No man was worth that, even—

Louisa scowled. He was certainly not worth it, the scheming scoundrel. Fiercely, she renewed her efforts with Lady Trusbut. “If you should hear the call of conscience yourself, the London Ladies would be honored to have you.”

“Isn’t your group affiliated with that Quaker Association I hear about?”

“Yes, the one run by Mrs. Elizabeth Fry.”

Lady Trusbut shook her head. “I don’t approve of Quakers. Edward says they despise anything with feathers.”

“Edward” was Lord Trusbut, who’d apparently found the perfect way to discourage his eccentric wife’s participation. “They merely disapprove of extravagant dress. I doubt they dislike feathers in particular. And the London Ladies Society doesn’t just have Quakers. Mrs. Harris is a member, as well as several of her graduates and ladies of rank.” She reached into her reticule. “I have here a list of women who—”

“Mrs. Charlotte Harris? Headmistress of the School for Heiresses?”

Louisa bit back a smile to hear the popular nickname for the school where she’d once given aid. “Well, it

’s actually the School for Young Ladies.”

“Mrs. Harris keeps birds, doesn’t she?”

Good heavens, the woman had only one note. “She recently acquired a parakeet, I believe.”

“Parakeets are delightful, very chatty.” Lady Trusbut hesitated, as if thinking, then smiled up at Louisa. “

Very well, I shall donate funds to your group. ’Tis the least I can do after you saved me from that imp from hell.”

Money. Louisa sighed. “We’ll be most grateful for the donation, madam, but we’d be even happier if you

’d join us.”

“Oh, I don’t know. Edward would disapprove.”

Before she could answer, a male voice spoke from the doorway. “Nonsense. Surely any gentleman would approve of Miss North’s charitable organization.”

Startled, Louisa glanced up to find her nemesis watching them. Oh no, why was he here? And how long had he been standing there?

As she went to tuck her list into her reticule, her curst hands started shaking and the list floated to the floor.

Simon bent to retrieve it, then scanned it swiftly. “An impressive roster of ladies you have here, Miss North. Members of your group?”

Refusing to answer, Louisa held out her hand. “If you would please—”

“Certainly.” A smile touched his lips as he handed her the list.

He was probably laughing at her for her clumsiness. Simon would never be clumsy, oh no. Not the clever duke.

When his gaze fixed on her with the unerring instinct of a tiger scenting prey, she had to struggle not to blush like the girl she’d once been, swept off her feet by a dashing scoundrel. Until she’d discovered there was nothing “dashing” about having the Duke of Foxmoor dash one’s heart against the rocks.

“As you can see,” Louisa said tartly, “Lady Trusbut is fine now, so we won’t keep you from the party.”

“I don’t mind,” he said. “I came to apologize for my pet’s behavior.”

Lady Trusbut sat up and smoothed her skirts. “Kind of you to think of me, Your Grace.”

“It’s the least I could do.” Taking her hand, he brushed a kiss across the top. The courtly gesture brought a smile fluttering across the woman’s lips. Louisa stifled a groan. Apparently Simon had this annoying effect on every woman. How she’d prayed that he would return to England worse for wear—sunken-eyed and gaunt, with skin burnt a leathery brown by the harsh Indian sun. Instead he looked every inch the conqueror arriving home to widespread accolades. His perfectly tailored evening attire accentuated his lean and muscular frame, and his days in the sun had tinted his skin a golden hue perfectly complemented by his sun-streaked blond hair.

“Allow me to explain Raji’s actions,” Simon went on. “You see, he loves toy birds, so he could not resist the chance to pet yours.”

“P-pet it?” Lady Trusbut squeaked. “H-he wasn’t trying to mangle it?”

“Absolutely not. He considers birds, real or toy, to be his playmates.” Simon arched one eyebrow. “He prefers canaries, though I am not sure why.”

Sly devil. He must have heard Lady Trusbut gushing over her birds. Lady Trusbut cocked her head, pigeon-like. “Canaries are delightful, very amiable and sociable. I happen to own several.”

“Do you? Raji would certainly enjoy seeing them.”

“Then perhaps you should bring him to call on me sometime. If you’re sure he won’t hurt them.”

Simon bowed. “He will be on his best behavior, I assure you.” He shot Louisa a conspiratorial glance. “

But I hope you will allow me to bring Miss North, as well. Raji seems to respond better to her commands than mine.”

Louisa blinked. What in heaven’s name was he up to now?

Before Lady Trusbut could answer, he added, “I forgot, that’s probably impossible, since your husband disapproves of Miss North’s charitable efforts.”

“I-I didn’t say that,” Lady Trusbut protested, looking confused.

“I assume that if he would disapprove of your joining her group, then he disapproves of their charitable work.”

The way he kept pounding the word “charitable” gave Louisa pause.

And flustered Lady Trusbut. “Well, no…I mean…my husband is a good man. He does believe in Christian charity, but the Association is so very political, you see, and he doesn’t think that politics is a woman’s purview.”