What a Devilish Duke Desires (11 page)

Once again the orchestra played a short introductory tune, and the crowd hushed.

“Thank you,” Mrs. Norcliffe said. “Now, our master of ceremonies, Mr. Wilson, will announce the dances. Gentlemen, as usual you will ask a lady to dance, but unlike the old rules, you will partner with that lady exclusively this evening.”

Voices rang out. More than a few matrons were shaking their heads in apparent shock.

“Gentlemen, choose your partners well,” Mrs. Norcliffe said, “for you will be competing with other couples. Each week, the gentlemen will choose either the same partner or a new one. The patronesses will judge and score the dancers on a scale of one to ten. Those who exhibit elegance and grace will earn the privilege of competing again next week. At the end of eight weeks, we will tally all scores.”

Harry thought Bellingham might have been right about his mother and the sherry.

Lady Castlereagh stepped forward and held up her hand. When the din of voices gradually lowered, she said, “All of the patronesses will judge the couples on their dancing skills. Each week, the winning couples will advance to the next level. Be sure to step lightly, gentlemen and ladies. When the competition ends, we will award the prize…five hundred pounds to the best dancing couple.”

The crowd erupted and voices rang with excitement. Harry turned to Lady Bellingham. “Do you know what prompted this turn of events?”

“Attendance at Almack’s dropped dramatically last year,” Lady Bellingham said. “Or rather the attendance of gentlemen. When was the last time you attended?”

He frowned. “More than three years.”

Lady Bellingham leaned closer. “I heard the patronesses were growing desperate. It seems our gentlemen prefer the clubs to Almack’s.”

Bell looked astounded. “So they came up with an incentive to ensure the gents attend?”

She nodded. “That is my understanding.”

Old Lord Houghton, who was at least eighty, slowly walked forward, leaning heavily on his cane. “Do I get the girl afterward?” he said in a strained voice.

Harry fisted his hand against his mouth, but his shoulders were shaking with laughter.

“Oh dear,” Lady Bellingham said.

Lady Cowper rose. “Lord Houghton, you cannot dance with a cane.”

He lifted the cane above his head and shuffled his feet. “Does that count?”

Houghton’s young heir rescued him and led him over to a chair.

“Mr. Wilson,” Mrs. Norcliffe said. “Will you announce the first dance?”

“It is the quadrille,” he said. “Gentlemen, find your partners.”

Bell grinned at Harry. “Well, what are you waiting for?”

“Good point. I’m off to the gaming room.”

“Too late,” Lady Bellingham said. “Your mother is bearing down on you as we speak.”

“Good luck,” Bell said, grinning as he walked off with his wife.

Mrs. Norcliffe brought over a plump matron and a very young lady. “Harry, you remember my particular friend, Mrs. Osterham.”

He bowed. “Yes, of course,” he lied.

Mrs. Norcliffe smiled. “I wish to introduce you to Mrs. Osterham’s eldest daughter, Miss Hortense Osterham.”

He would have to ask the young miss to dance, and that meant dancing with her all evening. Harry swore he would never set foot in Almack’s again. “It is a pleasure to meet you, Miss Osterham. May I have the honor of this first, er, all the dances?”

“Yes, y-you do m-me a great honor,” she said.

The poor girl couldn’t be much above seventeen. He offered his arm and realized her hand was shaking. Harry drew her aside. “Miss Osterham, I cannot help noticing that you’re trembling. I don’t bite, you know.”

He’d been certain she would laugh, but she bent her head. “It is m-my f-first ball.”

Damn and double damn. He was thirty-one, far too old for the girl. “If you focus on the dance steps, all will be fine.” He wasn’t certain that it would, but he’d no idea what else he could do to help her.

“Th-thank you,” she muttered.

As he led her toward the dance floor, he searched his brain, trying to find some way out of having to spend the entire evening dancing exclusively with Hortense. It appeared more than a few men had found themselves caught in the same net. Harry feared his mother and Mrs. Osterham meant to pressure him to court the girl. First it would be the dance. Next his mother would suggest he take her for a drive, and from there, the two mamas would hint at marriage.

A wheezing sound made him stop. Hortense was gulping in air very fast. Fearing she would swoon, he took her to a chair. Fortunately, her mother rushed to the girl’s rescue and applied her fan.

“My lord,” Mrs. Osterham said. “I’m sure Hortense will recover shortly.”

All of the color had drained from Hortense’s face. Poor girl. “I’m s-sorry,” she said.

Harry bent down. “You mustn’t worry. It’s all a bit overwhelming.”

Hortense hung her head. “Forgive me, Mama.”

Mrs. Osterham looked at him. “Oh dear, I think she only needs a moment.”

Harry bit back his anger for the girl’s sake and took Mrs. Osterham aside. “I believe your daughter is embarrassed. I’m sure it would be a kindness to take her home before others remark upon her discomfort.” He shouldn’t have had to make the suggestion to the foolish woman.

Mrs. Osterham fanned her daughter. “She does look pale. My sweet girl, of course I will take you home to rest.”

“That seems the best course of action,” Harry said.

Mrs. Osterham plucked at his sleeve. “You are very welcome to call upon my daughter, Your Grace.”

“How kind of you,” he said noncommittally. “My best wishes to you and your daughter.”

He bowed and strode off, relieved to have escaped dancing all night with the poor girl.

How could his mother even think of pairing him with her? He was nearly twice her age.

Now that he’d resolved the dancing issue, Harry strode into the gaming room where gentlemen were getting up a game of vingt-et-un. The Earl of Hawkfield and the Duke of Shelbourne joined them.

Hawk shuffled the cards. “Shelbourne, I’ve not seen this much gossip in the scandal sheets since your bridal courtship.”

Shelbourne laughed. “I must admit I never thought anything would top it, but the patronesses have succeeded in stirring up more trouble in the scandal sheets than my wife.”

One hour later, Bellingham and Colin entered. “Harry, we came to see if you’re up for billiards.”

“I am.” Harry bowed out of the card game and joined his friends in the billiard’s room.

“We yawned one too many times. Our wives chased us off,” Colin said.

“Thank the devil,” Bell said. “I couldn’t make myself watch the dancers any longer.”

Bellingham sighted the ball. “Blue one, right rear pocket.” When he took the shot, the white ball ricocheted and fell into the left pocket.

“Bloody hell,” Bell said. “I’m rusty.”

Harry sighted the red ball. “Right rear pocket.” He eased the stick over his hand, hit the red ball, and sent it spinning into the right rear pocket.

“Whoa,” Colin said. “You’ve been practicing.”

Harry grinned. “A single man can spend long nights in the club at the billiard’s table.”

“True,” Bell said, “but you can’t take a cue stick to bed.”

Harry handed the stick to Bell. “This from the man who swore he would never wed.”

Bell grinned. “I’m glad I did. You are the last bachelor among us. Don’t feel any pressure from us.”

“I’ve no intention of remaining a bachelor for life. It’s just too soon after losing my uncle. A mistress would suit me for now. I just have to find one who has a brain and doesn’t drench herself in perfume.”

“Oh Lord,” Colin said. “There’s a story there.”

“Good luck with a mistress,” Bell said. “My last one turned the town house into a pagoda museum, and set the sheets on fire in the street, and the fire brigade had to come put it out.”

Harry and Colin guffawed.

“Whose turn is it?” Bell said.

“Yours,” Colin said.

Harry propped his cue stick while Bell lined up the balls. After sighting them, Bellingham took his shot and every single one fell into pockets.

“Some things never change,” Colin said. “How the devil do you do that?”

Bell shrugged. “It’s all about the right amount of force.”

“That’s helpful,” Colin muttered.

“You’re up, Colin,” Bell said.

Harry cleared his throat. “I’m off to get something to drink, however tepid it may be.”

His friends laughed as he quit the gaming room and headed to the refreshments. He walked past the tables, examining the food. The plain cake and buttered sandwiches looked unappetizing. He meant to get a cup of tea, but an elderly lady advised him not to drink it, as it had grown cold. With a sigh, Harry turned to the other table, and his heart kicked hard.

Lucy stood behind the table dressed in an apron. A cap covered all but one wisp of her red hair. She handed a glass of lemonade to a matron. When the lady walked away, Lucy lifted up on her toes. Evidently, she was watching the dancers.

He strolled over to her table. “Lucy?”

Her green eyes widened. “What are you doing here?” she said under her breath. A blush stole over her cheeks. “Sorry, that was foolish.”

“No, it wasn’t. I escorted my mother and cousins…I didn’t expect to see you here.”

She wouldn’t be here if she didn’t need the coin, but she couldn’t be earning more than a pittance.

“You are working?” he said.
Brilliant, you just sounded like a complete idiot.

“Yes, isn’t it obvious?”

He smiled. “Well, yes. You are well?”

“I am,” she said. “And you?”

“A few minutes ago, I would have said tolerably well, but then I saw you and brightened considerably.”

“Flirting again, Your Grace?”

“Who me?” he said, putting his hand to his heart.

She looked over her shoulder and returned her gaze to him. “You had better go.”

He looked behind her.

“What are you about?” she said.

He grinned. “One of your curls escaped the cap.”

She attempted to tuck it in.

“Don’t,” he said. “It’s rather fetching.”

“Please go. I cannot afford trouble.”

“No one is paying attention to us. May I have a glass of lemonade?”

“Of course.” She poured and handed the glass to him.

He took a sip and puckered his mouth. “It’s terrible, but I should have expected it. Almack’s is well known for its lackluster refreshments.”

“One would think the ton would serve decent food and drink.”

“Believe me, no one comes here for the refreshments,” he said.

“Except
you
?” she said in a teasing tone.

He laughed. “I saw you watching the dancers. I wish you could dance with me.”

“I’m working.” She glanced over her shoulder again. “You had better leave before someone notices you’re talking to me.”

He glanced out at the crowd. “No one is paying the least bit of attention. Everyone is focused on the dancers.”

“Why aren’t
you
dancing?” she said.

“I would if you were free.”

“If you wish to flirt, I advise you to choose a lady of leisure. I must work.”

“I wish I could dance the rest of the night with you. I can’t, so I won’t dance at all.”

She shook her head. “I’m not the reason you’re avoiding dancing,” she said. “I know the patronesses changed the rules.”

“Yes, and I narrowly escaped dancing all night with a young lady out in her first season. I felt sorry for her. She couldn’t be a day over seventeen, making her much too young for the likes of me.”

Her eyes narrowed. “Aren’t you expected to dance?”

“I don’t care about expectations.”

She met his gaze straight on. “I wager your family does. I know courtships take place primarily on the dance floor.”

“When I decide to court a lady, I will choose the time and place. I make my own decisions, and I answer to no one,” he said.

She arched her brows. “Perhaps a higher power?”

He smiled. “Or a lower one.”

Her mouth twitched in a slight smile. “Does that make you a devilish duke?”

His shoulders shook with mirth. “Clever.”

A rotund maid walked out. “Lucy, give the gentleman a glass of lemonade and be done with it.”

Lucy winced and poured a glass. “Yes, Mrs. Thompson. I’m sorry.”

“It’s not me you owe an apology.” Mrs. Thompson regarded him. “She’s new, but that’s no excuse.”

He’d made trouble for Lucy, and he’d better undo the damage. “Mrs. Thompson, I beg your pardon.” Harry gave her his best flirtatious smile. “The lady did try to discourage me. I take all the blame. Do forgive me.”

Mrs. Thompson’s eyes grew as round as carriage wheels and her face turned pink. “Imagine me forgivin’ you. Carry on, Miss Longmore,” she said, and walked off.

Afterward, Lucy leaned toward him. “Please go now. I can’t risk losing my job.”

The devil. He shouldn’t have teased Lucy. Her words worried him, because she couldn’t be earning much. That only made him wonder how she was managing.

He wandered past the other tables, stopping occasionally to watch her. She and her grandmother lived in a rough neighborhood. That fact only increased his curiosity and his concern. Most likely, she held more than one job, because she couldn’t possibly survive on whatever pittance she earned serving lemonade.

When she caught him eyeing her, she averted her gaze. A lady approached, and Lucy served her a glass of lemonade. Afterward, Lucy looked out at the crowd as if determined to avoid him.

Once again, he was struck by the contradiction of her. He told himself to walk away and forget her, but he couldn’t. She was a riddle, one that he itched to solve, but that was not all. In truth, that one kiss had only made him want more. He wanted to pull her up to her toes and kiss her senseless. He wanted to hold her in his arms. He wanted her to surrender everything to him, but he mustn’t rush her. That one kiss had assured him she was an innocent.

The orchestra ended the tune with a flourish. The master of ceremonies called for silence. The guests moved closer en mass toward the dais where the patronesses sat.

Three ladies inside the refreshment room hurried out to join the throng. Harry consulted his watch. It was half past eleven. He turned around. Lucy was alone.