What a Devilish Duke Desires (21 page)

“I fear you will think me a wanton,” she said.

He held her tightly in his arms. “No, Lucy, quite the opposite. Every night in bed I think about you, and I find myself wishing you were with me. I will make you mine, sweet girl.”

“I cannot allow this to happen again,” she said. “There is too much at risk.”

“You risk nothing,” he said. “I would never wound you or risk your reputation. I swear to you,” he said.

“It isn’t you,” she said. “Well, it is you.”

“Whew. For a moment I feared I had a rival.”

She’d never thought she would be susceptible to desire. It frightened her.

“What are you thinking about?” he asked.

“Consequences.”

“Consequences can mean many things,” he said.

He’d spoken carefully.

“I’m thinking of the imprudent sort. It frightens me.”

“What do you fear?”

She shivered. “That I will succumb to these powerful feelings and let matters go too far. The consequences would be disastrous.” She knew what happened to servants who were discovered to be with child. They lost their positions.

“Well, I’m heartbroken,” he said. “I must set aside my wicked designs on you and settle for squiring you about at my mother’s dull Venetian breakfast.”

She laughed a little. “You are fortunate I’m willing to allow even that.”

When the carriage rolled to a halt, she searched for the bonnet. He found it on the floor of the carriage and grimaced as she put it on.

“What is wrong?” she asked.

“It seems a shame to cover your beautiful red hair.”

She pulled a face. “You like it?”

He laughed. “Very much.”

“I must go now,” she said.

“You will allow me to escort you, and I will not listen to any arguments. Save your breath.”

“Yes, master,” she said.

He laughed. “Oh, I like that.”

“I might have known,” she said, rolling her eyes.

When they reached her door, he lifted her hands and kissed them. “I will call for you at two o’clock on Saturday.” Unable to help himself, he drew her into his arms again and kissed her deeply. He slid his hands to her bottom and drew her soft curves flush against him. A small feminine sound escaped her. When he tore his mouth away, they were both breathing faster. “Until Saturday,” he said. When she disappeared inside her lodgings, he ran down the stairs and started toward his carriage. The distinctive clop of hooves on the street alerted him.

A yellow curricle approached. Harry cursed under his breath as he recognized Castelle, but he would give away nothing.

“Granfield, what brings you to this dilapidated neighborhood?”

He’d no intention of answering. “Smart curricle. Is it new?”

“Indeed, I acquired it only three days ago. I’m planning to race on Monday. You should come.”

“I might.”

Castelle regarded him with a crafty expression. “Visiting your mistress?”

Harry retrieved his watch. “You will pardon me. I have an appointment.”

“More than one, eh? I envy you, Granfield.”

Harry doffed his hat, climbed into his carriage, and knocked his cane on the ceiling. The carriage lurched into motion.

Harry’s heart still hammered in his chest. It had never occurred to him that anyone he knew might travel in this neighborhood. While Castelle had irritated him, Harry had prevaricated. The important part was that the man had not seen Lucy. Of course, there was nothing wrong with him calling at her home, but Castelle had immediately assumed he was calling on a mistress. In the future, he would ensure there was no one he knew driving in her neighborhood before he assisted her out of the carriage.

Thank God Castelle had not seen her. It was unlikely that any of his other acquaintances would travel in this rough neighborhood. In truth, he wanted to move Lucy and her grandmother to a safer neighborhood, but he had no say.

He could have a say, though. It would take only a ring and a vow, but he knew Lucy’s fears. If he pushed too soon, she would balk. Fortunately, his mother’s party would prove to be the perfect venue to ease her into society. It would be the perfect way to introduce Lucy to his friends and their wives. Bellingham and Colin would lend their support no questions asked, and he knew their wives would take Lucy under their wings.

But the incident with Castelle still bothered Harry. He’d come very close to exposing her in a compromising position. The devil. The consequences would have been bad. He must be vigilant and ensure that she was protected at all times.

Buckley stood in the shadows beneath a dilapidated stairwell across the street from Lucy’s lodgings. His right ankle still ached like the devil. He took out a bottle of laudanum and swigged from it as he watched the toff walk Lucy to her door. Buckley swiped his filthy glove over his mouth, and then his eyes nearly bugged out. The toff plastered her against him and stuck his tongue down her throat. She stood on her toes and clung to him.

The swell’s fancy carriage and cut of his clothing marked him as a rich man. No doubt the little bitch was spreading her legs and reaping the rewards of fancy gowns and jewels.

She’d cost him his livelihood. All of his former clients had instructed their butlers to shut the door in his face when he begged for an audience. No doubt, Lucy had spread ruinous lies about him. She’d probably told Mrs. Vernon that he’d been drinking. So what if he had a nip of gin with his laudanum in the morning? He needed it for his bad ankle, thanks to that bitch Lucy.

How dare she cut him out of his living? He’d given her a chance. Nobody else had wanted her, but he’d taken her on as an assistant. What had she given him in return? Less than nothing. She’d robbed him of his reputation and his clients, but he’d make her pay soon enough. He’d catch her unaware one night when the toff wasn’t around. He’d grab her and sell her for six pence to dozens of men every night.

Buckley pictured himself collecting coins as men stood in a queue waiting to defile her. Oh yes, she’d pay dearly for double-crossing him.

He would wait for the right opportunity, and then he would snatch her off the street.

When Harry’s carriage stopped on Petticoat Lane, he got out and instructed the driver to keep a sharp lookout for criminals. The neighborhood was exceedingly wretched. Just the thought of Lucy venturing in this rough place made his gut twist.

As he walked toward the building, he thought about Lucy’s heartbreak and desperation the day she’d taken her mother’s pearls to this seedy place. He doubted the pearls would still be there, but he would make the effort on the slim chance they were.

He walked inside, and a rancid smell nearly made him gag. A hulking, hunchbacked man eyed him. “Can I help ye, Governor?”

“A redhead came here recently and pawned a pearl necklace. Do you still have the pearls?”

The man regarded him warily. “I’m not a fence, Governor.”

“I didn’t ask if the pearls were stolen. I asked if you have them.”

“Lots of folks come and go. I can’t be bothered rememberin’ all of ’em.”

Harry glared at him. “I daresay this establishment would not withstand a thorough search by the watch. Now answer my question.”

“Aye, she come in one mornin’. I paid her, Governor.”

After issuing a threat to alert the watch, Harry realized his mistake. The pawnbroker would tell Harry what he wanted to hear to keep the authorities at bay.

It was entirely possible the man was lying about the pearls, but Harry decided to take a chance. “Let me see them.”

The pawnbroker pulled out a blue velvet pouch and deposited a necklace on the counter. Harry picked it up and ran his fingers over the smooth pearls. Damnation, he knew nothing about jewelry. For all he knew the necklace was paste.

“What’s it gonna be, Governor? I ain’t got all day.”

Harry left it on the counter and strode across the grimy shop. He would buy her a new one, because he didn’t believe for a second that it was Lucy’s necklace. When he opened the door, the pawnbroker called out, “Wait, Governor.”

Harry paused and looked over his shoulder. “Well?”

“There’s somethin’ you might have overlooked,” the pawnbroker said.

Friday, early evening

Y
our Grace,” Madame Delanger said, and curtsied as Harry entered the shop. “My seamstresses are almost finished fitting Miss Longmore.”

“Excellent,” he said. Lucy had requested the fitting after the regular shop hours to avoid seeing any former customers who might recognize her. She’d wanted to avoid any awkwardness.

“Your Grace, please make yourself comfortable on the chaise,” Madame Delanger said.

“Thank you,” he said, stretching out his legs.

Earlier, he’d persuaded Lucy to let him take her up in his carriage to the dress shop so they could transport the gown in his carriage. After leaving Lucy in Madame’s care, he’d taken himself off to White’s for a brandy and read the papers.

He retrieved his watch. Poor Lucy. If the experience was anything like his recent visit to the tailor, he pitied her. All that measuring, trimming, and pinning was sheer torture to him. Then again, maybe ladies liked it. Lord knew his cousins were always discussing fashion.

Madame Delanger regarded him with a shrewd expression. “Lucy is fortunate to be in your good graces.”

He suspected Madame thought he’d made Lucy his mistress and meant to disabuse the woman of the idea. “On the contrary, I am the fortunate one,” he said. “I look forward to introducing her to my family and friends.”

Madame’s brows lifted. “Indeed, she will be elevated to a great degree.”

He regarded her with a bored expression. “Lucy needs no elevation.”

“Indeed, Your Grace. I quite agree,” Madame said. “Ah, here she comes now.”

Harry set his hat aside and stood. Lucy blushed as she walked out in a white gown with short, puffed sleeves decorated with pretty blue ribbons. The same ribbons were on the bottom part of the gown. She wore a close-fitting bonnet with a wide blue sash.

“Turn around slowly,” Madame said.

Lucy blushed as she complied. Harry saw the artistry behind the simple style, for a wide blue bow with a long sash at the back drew the eye immediately. When he met Lucy’s gaze, he realized she was a little uncertain of herself.

“You are stunning,” he said.

“You approve?” Lucy said.

“Definitely.” He regarded Madame. “The gown is almost as beautiful as Miss Longmore.”

“Yes, Your Grace,” Madame Delanger said. “Now, Lucy, there are gloves, slippers, and a parasol to finish the ensemble, but now you must change clothes so that Evelyn can box up everything.”

Mary accompanied Lucy to the screen. Several minutes later, Lucy emerged and Mary helped Evelyn box up the items.

“Lucy, I will come to your lodgings tomorrow to help you dress,” Mary said. “You looked beautiful in the gown.”

“Thank you, Mary,” Lucy said. “Thank you, Madame and Evelyn.”

Madame bowed. “It is my pleasure.”

Once the boxes were stowed in the carriage, Harry helped Lucy inside and sat next to her. Afterward, he knocked his cane on the roof. “You’re quiet,” he said.

“I’m a bit nervous about tomorrow.”

“You needn’t be. I will be there, and so will Mina, Helena, and Amelia. They’re anxious to see you again and have talked endlessly about the dance lessons. Apparently you managed to put everyone at ease, even with others watching.”

“If only I could be at ease tomorrow. I fear I’ll have nothing to contribute to the conversations.”

“I disagree. My sisters assured me the Almack’s competition is much talked about. Others will want your opinion.”

“That reassures me.”

She didn’t look reassured at all. “I promise I won’t hover over you tomorrow, but I’ll not stray too far.”

“Tell me again what to expect. Will there be many guests?”

“Yes, my mother’s annual party is always a crush. There will be tents for the refreshments. The other patronesses will be there, of course. I’ll introduce you to my friends and their wives.”

“You are so kind to me, but I find myself wishing I’d never agreed.”

He took her hand. “I’m thankful you did. You’re the reason I look forward to it.”

The way he looked at her took her breath away, and it was an exhilarating experience to have all of his attention centered upon her.

“Don’t worry,” he said. “You will relax once we are there.”

She lowered her eyes. “I fear I’ll inadvertently make a faux pas and embarrass you.”

He wrapped his arms around her. “You won’t, but I will make this promise. If for any reason you are uncomfortable, we will leave.”

“No, I can’t do that to you. I’m just anxious. I’m sure all will be fine tomorrow.”

He kissed her lightly on the lips. “I know you’re a bit nervous, but you will enjoy the party.”

When the carriage rocked to a halt, Harry got out and looked around, but there were no other vehicles traveling on the street. Then he assisted Lucy on the carriage steps and escorted her upstairs to her home. He gave her a quick kiss. “Until tomorrow.”

She waved at him, and a moment later he heard the bolt slide home.

Harry ran down the steps again and strode to his carriage. He heard a scrabbling sound as if someone were trying to gain their feet. It seemed to come from the lodgings across the street. He retrieved his knife from his inner pocket and strode beneath the stairwell to investigate, but he saw nothing there. He approached the carriage and queried his coachman. “Did you see any suspicious persons?”

“I saw a limpin’ man walkin’ under the stairwell across the way. That was all, Your Grace.”

“I don’t like this neighborhood,” Harry said.

“Not the safest, Your Grace.”

“I’m going to check the stairwell on the other side,” he said.

Harry walked beneath the stairwell. Broken glass crunched beneath his boots. The neck of a broken bottle lay on the ground. Someone had spent time here. After his mother’s party, Harry meant to discuss safer lodgings with Lucy. He would be honest with her about his fears for her safety and that of her grandmother.

Buckley’s ankle throbbed from moving too fast. It was still swollen, but not broken. When he’d seen the toff with Lucy, he’d had to hide quickly in the shadows. He figured the coachman had seen him limping to the stairwell. When the nob walked inside with a blade in his hand, Buckley had started shaking and managed to scrabble out the other side. The nob was no fancy man; he was big and muscular. It had been a close call, but Buckley had seen the nob carrying boxes tonight. Obviously Lucy’s nob was buying her gifts in recompense for serving him.

He removed an apothecary bottle and tipped it to his lips, but only the dregs of laudanum remained. Tonight he’d have to pick pockets, a dicey business. If caught, he’d swing from the Tyburn Tree.

He wouldn’t be in this sorry state if not for Lucy. She’d betrayed him, taken away all his clients, and now she was probably spreading her legs for the rich nob. But her man had taken himself off in his elegant carriage, and Buckley meant to take advantage of the opportunity. When he got to the stairs, he winced because his ankle ached. He made it halfway up the steps and sat. He pulled out a rag he meant to use to gag her, not that anyone in this neighborhood would care about a squawking female. He took a deep breath and shouted, “Help!” Once he had her pity, he’d snatch her.

Sure enough, her door cracked open. Lucy scowled at him. “Go away.”

“I’m hurt. Help me.”

She hesitated.

“You owe me, Lucy. I gave you your start. You wouldn’t turn away an injured man.”

She shut the door. A bolt slid home.

“Bitch.” He swore he’d rough her up badly when he caught her.

After Lucy bolted the door, she leaned her back against it. Her heart hammered, but she mustn’t hide it.

Grandmama held her hand to her heart. “What was that?”

“Buckley. He fell and wanted my help. I suspect it was a trick.”

Grandmama worried her hands. “What does he want?”

“He claimed he was injured, but it was likely nothing more than a sprained ankle. He probably wants to ask me to be his assistant again.”

“Oh dear. I don’t like this at all,” Grandmama said.

“Eventually, he’ll tire of the damp fog and go away.” Unfortunately, she doubted it would be the last time. He must be desperate. She hated having to carry her blade in her basket, but she must be wary of Buckley. He might be injured, but he blamed her for his misfortune. Buckley might want retribution, but she was far cleverer than him. She wouldn’t let him within a foot of her ever again. That meant she must be aware of her surroundings at all times. She’d learned her lesson the night the thief had tried to steal her basket, and she couldn’t afford to be caught off guard ever again.

Late Saturday morning

Mary arrived midmorning to put Lucy’s hair up and help her dress.

Lucy looked in the mirror. “Mary, you have a real talent for styling hair. You could be a lady’s maid.”

“I never thought of it,” Mary said. “I guess I just followed in the same shoes as my mother and sisters. Do you think it would be easier than sewing?”

“I don’t know for certain, but sometimes you have to take a leap of faith. It never hurts to inquire.”

Mary inhaled. “I’ve never had any confidence.”

Lucy rose. “I think we all have to look deep inside to find faith in ourselves. I suppose I should take my own advice. I’m a bit anxious,” Lucy confided. That was a colossal understatement. She never, ever should have agreed to attend this party.

“Step into the gown,” Mary said, and then she drew the bodice up. “You look beautiful. Like a princess.”

“Hardly that,” Lucy said. Who was she trying to fool? She would never fit into his world. “Mary, I can’t go. I can’t.”

“Of course you will go,” Mary said.

“You do not understand. They will look at me as if I’m unworthy to be in their presence.” She paced her small bedchamber. “Why did I ever agree to attend? I will be completely out of place and embarrass Harry. I’ll not be able to contribute to the conversations.”

“Stay still.” Mary tied the tapes of her gown. “Harry, is it? That sounds promising.”

She’d let his Christian name slip. “Mary,
I admit I have tender feelings for him, but I know his family would never accept me. Frankly, I’m terrified about this party.”

“You won’t let your man down,” Mary said. “He’s ever so handsome, and I wager he’ll be very proud to escort you to the Venetian breakfast.”

“Is that not the silliest name for an afternoon party?” Lucy said.

Mary smiled. “Well, perhaps they’ll have gondolas.”

Lucy laughed. “Oh, what would I do without you and Evelyn?”

“You’re our friend, Lucy, but today, you will be the most beautiful belle at the party.”

“No, I’m quite sure I won’t. I only hope that I can make it through this day without a mishap of some sort.”

“I saw the way the duke looks at you,” Mary said. “He’s in a fair way to falling in love with you, if he hasn’t already.”

“I know he cares for me, but I have to be realistic. Our affaire de coeur will likely end quietly when he returns to his property in the summer. It’s inevitable.”

“You don’t know that,” Mary said.

“Mary, my jobs are here in London. When the season ends, he will return to Havenwood, his property in Wiltshire. I want to spend as much time with him as possible before that day arrives, but I must prepare myself for the day he leaves.”

“Lucy, do you love him?”

Her eyes welled. “I tried not to fall in love with him, but I did.”

Mary gave her a handkerchief. “Don’t cry. It will spoil the party for you. For today, you are a lady attending a Venetian breakfast with a very handsome duke. Don’t let anything spoil this special day for both of you.”

“Thank you, Mary.”

“What troubles you?” Mary said. “I can see it on your face.”

“I think his mother means to put me in my place. Why else would she invite me?”

“Perhaps she wants one of her nieces to win the Almack’s dancing competition.”

“Undoubtedly that is true, but I do not think I’m wrong about Mrs. Norcliffe’s intentions.”

“Try to think positive,” Mary said. “No matter what happens, you have a wonderful beau.”

“Mary, he’s not mine. He never will be.”

“He is today,” Mary said. She bit her lip and hesitated a moment.

“What is it?” Lucy said.

Mary set the soft shawl over Lucy’s shoulders. “I would give anything to be in your slippers.”

Lucy hugged her. “You will find someone who adores you.”

“I hope your day is magical,” Mary said. “Now I must go.”

“Meet me and Grandmama at the park tomorrow.”

“I have to sew, but next week for sure,” Mary said. “I’ll bring Evelyn.”

“I’ll hold you to that promise.” Yet she knew the decision was all in Madame Delanger’s hands.

Lucy walked with Mary to the door. “Thank you.”

“You must describe it all to me when next I see you,” Mary said.

“I will.”

“Good-bye, Mrs. Longmore,” Mary said.

After Lucy closed and bolted the door, Grandmama said, “Come sit with me.”

Lucy joined her. “I wish you were coming with me today.”

“We’ve already discussed that,” Grandmama said. “Granfield will be here soon. There are a few things I wish to say before he arrives.”

Lucy’s stomach clenched. “Is something wrong?”

“No, but I worry about your relationship with him.”

Lucy wet her dry lips. Had her grandmother guessed she’d allowed him liberties?

“Do not mistake me. He seems a good and caring man. You know I like him very well. I do not believe he would deliberately wound you, but I advise you not to lose your heart to him.”

She was scared because it would hurt when they must part.

Grandmama sipped her tea. “I’ve thought about this a great deal since he confessed he was a duke. His family will expect him to marry among his own kind.”

“I know,” she said. “I have no illusions about a future with him.” Sometimes she imagined the three of them living in a small house and a hearth blazing with a warm fire. She shook off the foolish image, but she felt a little hollow inside knowing the image was nothing more than a daydream.