The Duke Dilemma (20 page)

“Look there, Freddie.” Augusta nudged her brother, who stood next to her in the reception room of Drysdale Place that evening. At present, she studied the interactions of her father with the other guests. She’d watched him the moment she’d set eyes on him less than an hour ago. What seemed odd to her was that he appeared to pay court to every lady whom he chanced to come upon as if she were the sole inhabitant at the gathering.

“What?” Freddie roused with a small shake of his head as if he had been disturbed during some contemplation or sleeping while on his feet. “What is it you say, Gusta? Oh, yes, you look quite enchanting this evening, absolutely breathtaking!”

“Oh, do pay attention. I did not ask for your opinion of my gown.” Although she did think her new peach confection quite splendid, with its pleated, puffed sleeves and the satin-stitched embroidery detail along its scalloped hem. It seemed to Augusta younger brothers never grew up. They were in a perpetual state of always being younger—
puerile
was what she actually meant. Did they ever take anything seriously? “Look there—do you not see? Papa attends Mrs. Dumont.”

“Oh, that ain’t right,” he commented in a near drawl, thoroughly disapproving, and brushed the wrinkles from the sleeve of his dark brown Bath superfine jacket. “He would not bother to encourage that dried-up old stick.”

“That wasn’t exactly what I was thinking but, no, I cannot imagine he would wish for her admiration.” What could have happened to the Duke for him to have altered his behavior so?
He had always been the epitome of politeness and elegance, but to shower such an excessive amount of attention upon a female such as her…something was truly amiss.

“Unless, of course, one of our relatives put her forth as a candidate?” Freddie swiveled his head to glance at his sister from the corner of his eye. “Why would either of our aunts encourage an association between Mrs. Dumont and His Grace?”

“There is no need to introduce them, ninny.” Augusta directed her most leveling glare to reprimand him. It was a technique that worked on her young children but seemed to have no effect upon her brother. “They have been long acquainted, but I cannot understand how Papa would ever consider marriage to that widow.”

“Gad! The Dumont woman may be his age but she don’t look it. She seems much, much older,” Freddie remarked rather unkindly. “Reminds me of an old, wizened aunt.”

“Freddie, please!”

“
I
do not have such a relative.
My
aunts are beyond lovely.”

“Oh, you rogue!” Augusta’s brother could be quite trying. “I cannot think Papa could have any amorous designs regarding the widow, I can almost assure you.”

As always, he was splendidly dressed by his valet, Sturgis, in a dark blue jacket, white-and-gold-striped waistcoat, and exquisitely cut pantaloons, but something about His Grace’s demeanor had changed this evening. Although he might appear as if he were interested in his company, to Augusta he seemed more remote than usual. The tightness around his eyes and his mouth had made it apparent he offered only a facade.

Augusta observed that her father had showed no preference for any female in attendance. He merely paid them polite attention. How lowering for the very best women in Society who tried to be noticed and for him to pay not the least bit of real interest.

“What’s going on, then?” Freddie murmured in a tone that would not be overheard.

“I’m not certain.” She studied her father more closely.

“It is times like this when our Muriel’s talent for
eavesdropping
would come in handy,” Freddie said, referring to their youngest sister’s ability to decipher words while watching a conversation at a distance. Yes, Augusta had to agree. Since they did not have that luxury, they needed to do what they could to learn what was occurring.

“Follow me,” she whispered and stepped into the room, navigating her way toward her father.

“I can state with some conviction there will be dancing sometime during this evening,” the Duke assured Mrs. Dumont and continued on to say, “Lady Drysdale insists upon it, and Lord Drysdale cannot do without a card room.”

“I do not care for dancing, Your Grace, but I fancy cards.” Mrs. Dumont’s countenance brightened at the mention of gaming.

Augusta had slowed but kept moving, making it seem as if they were merely crossing the room.

“Then may I suggest you exit through the door on the left”—the Duke pointed across the room—“I believe you’ll want the Etruscan parlor. Give my best to Lord Drysdale when you see him, will you?”

“You won’t be joining my table, Your Grace?” She sounded disappointed.

“No, I’m afraid not,” replied the Duke.

“Very well. I suppose I will see if Lady Luck will sit alongside me this evening.”

“I certainly hope she does, ma’am.” He inclined his head. “I bid you good evening, ma’am, and
bon chance
!”

“Thank you, sir.” Mrs. Dumont made a curtsy and departed, presumably to find the card room.

The Duke took a few steps before stopping at Mrs. Raley.

“I’ve heard enough.” Augusta sped up her pace and moved away from her father, still with her brother in her wake. “He makes the effort to speak to them but says nothing.” She turned to look upon her parent. “I half suspect we have been found out.”

“No, I don’t think so.” Freddie glanced in their father’s direction. “If that were true, I don’t expect he would have bothered to attend.”

“I am still not certain what is amiss, but something is decidedly different about him. He does not appear able to find any lady who can capture his interest.”

“Perhaps
she
does not attend this evening.” Freddie gazed from one side of the room to the other as if searching among the females in attendance. “As you say, he is already acquainted with the guests. Why would he form an attachment now because you think it time he should take a new wife? I expect, if such a female exists, the attraction would be an instantaneous one.”

“
Instantaneous?
” Augusta repeated in a mocking tone. “I can attest to the falsehood of instant attraction.”

“Just because it was not your experience does not make it so for everyone.” Freddie did not, in Augusta’s estimation, know what he was going on about. “Perhaps for some of us a single acquaintance may be enough. For the rest of us, it may take as long as a second or third encounter.”

CHAPTER TWELVE

“Ah, Frederick, you’re here, finally.” Edward laid his pencil next to the notepad he’d been working on for the last hour and half and rose from his desk. “I’ve been hoping to have a word with you.”

“Sorry, been busy, you know.” Frederick strolled into the room toward the massive desk where his father had been seated. “I have a confession to make. The ladies aren’t the only interest I have this Season.”

“Yes, I do know.” The Duke moved to the coffee tray across the room. The pleading to help him find a wife placed him on the top of the list. Oh, how Edward was ashamed to admit how he had been taken in by the claim. He had even put off matters of Parliament since the arrival of his son. “May I offer you some coffee?”

“No, thank you. I just finished breakfast.” Frederick stepped toward the sofa near the fireplace. “Do you mind if I ask you something?”

“If you wish.” Edward lifted the pot and paused before filling his cup at his son’s entrance.

“Why were you conversing with all those women last night?” Frederick shrugged. “I was amazed that every time I looked in your direction, it seemed you were in the company of a different lady.”

“Was I?” The Duke could have guessed what his son was thinking, but Frederick would have been wrong. Edward was not seeking out any woman for any purpose.

“Spending an inordinate amount of time in chatting with Lady Whitlow? Lawks! What could that be about? And you did nothing short of leading Mrs. Dumont to the card room. I thought you were going to partner her for a rubber or two. Then I come to find you taking a turn about the room with Mrs. Raley? Can’t imagine you’d find anything about her interesting.”

“Mrs. Raley is an acquaintance of your aunts. She is just out of her widow’s weeds and is returning to Society.” Edward addressed him rather harshly. Did his son have no compassion, no manners at all? “I cannot imagine you would frown upon showing her a bit of kindness.”

“Well, no. I would not.” Frederick’s flippant manner ebbed, soon falling into an uncomfortable silence. He perched on the corner of the desk and glanced about the surface. “What are you working on here?”

“I’d like to think I’m crafting a well-thought-out response to the argument against the Corn Laws for the Prime Minister this afternoon. I am finding it uncommonly difficult to concentrate.”

“This afternoon? I thought you might come along with me to—”

“That’s what I wish to speak to you about. I’m afraid I shall be attending to business at the House.” Edward replaced the coffee pot upon the tray.

“I see.” Frederick sounded unhappy with his father’s agenda. “It does not seem to me you are as enthusiastic about accompanying me as you were a mere week ago.”

“I am not convinced of your sincerity to find a wife, much less marry.”

“My sincerity?” Frederick appeared shocked but could not have been, as far as Edward was concerned. “I’ll have you know, Your Grace, my ambition of finding a wife is utmost on my mind.”

“I have no doubt you think it important.” What bothered Edward was his son did not specify whose wife. He finally got around to pouring himself a cup of coffee, dark and strong. It resembled his current outlook.

“Do you mean to tell me you refuse to…to lend me your support in this matter?”

“It is not my support I rescind, it is my presence. I shall no longer accompany you for an afternoon in the Park or balls in the evening. If you continue to pay court to any young ladies, you will have to do so alone.” Edward meant every word.

“Very well, if that is your final say on the matter.” Frederick’s posture stiffened. The news did not please him.

“It is. You may depend upon it.” Edward set forth across the room to return to his work. “I will finish my remaining obligations, which continue to the end of this week, and I shall henceforth limit my activities to the running of this country and to visiting my own family members. If you will excuse me, I’d best be getting back to my speech.”

“I bid good day to you, sir.” Frederick lifted a pad from the desk and regarded it. “The Prime Minister, eh?” He glanced toward his father and remarked, “I would rate Lord Liverpool a handsome gentleman, but I do not believe he is in possession of eyes quite this lovely.” He allowed the pad to fall before making his exit.

Eyes?
What was Frederick going on about now?

Moving to his desk, Edward retrieved the pad, the one his son had only just discarded, the one he thought he had been
drafting his speech upon…and there they were, a beautiful set of eyes sketched onto the paper.

Of course
he
must have drawn them. How could Edward have thought he was working on a speech! And to whom, he wondered, did they belong?

It was permissible for females to shop on Bond Street before noon. Augusta had arranged for Lady Vernon to accompany her to search for a pair of much-needed long gloves. Heavens, Augusta’s old ones were years old, purchased before she had married.

“I thank you for your company, Lady Vernon. Shopping alone is sadly dull.” Augusta pulled off her gloves, preparing to try on some new pairs. “It’s been an age since I’ve attended the opera.” She gazed compassionately at Louise, hoping she could somehow persuade her friend. “Will you please reconsider attending?”

“What of your sister?”

“Char accompanies her relatives in her own box, and necessity deems I must join them, but I cannot attend alone. I do not wish to contemplate what an evening with Miss Orr and Lady Margaret might entail. It would be so much more comfortable to have the two of us share Papa’s box.”

“And what of His Grace or your brother? Can either one of them accompany you?”

“Heavens! Freddie at the opera?” Augusta could not imagine. Lady Vernon had yet to meet Freddie. After she had the pleasure she might better understand. “No, I don’t expect you’ll ever see him attend willingly, at least not to hear the music. As for Papa…I believe he is already occupied for the evening.”