An Apple Pie for a Duke (5 page)

Dominic
never lost at anything – not his most popular trait – but he did
not care about being popular. He cared about winning.

Coeur
de Lion was a horse without equal, but strong and wilful. Only the
best horsemen in England could reign such a forceful animal as the
duke's black stallion. Of course, the duke counted himself among them
and justly so.

He
was, indeed, the first to arrive at the meeting point, leaving
Viscount Lackerby far behind. Lackerby, an excellent horseman
himself, rode up on his light-footed thoroughbred mare that had given
her best to compete with Coeur de Lion. But Dominic had calculated
his horse's strength better than Lackerby had. The mare was wet with
sweat and her pumping nostrils proved that she was thoroughly out of
breath.

“
She's
a good girl,” Dominic granted.

“
Yes,
yes.” Lackerby grinned, although his attractive face showed signs
of strain. “She's a fighter, but against your black monster,
there's nought to be done.”

Dominic
chuckled but he did not feel merry.

He
felt angry. Angry with himself for being out of control. Angry with
the world for testing him so.

Nothing
he did was without an ulterior motive anymore.

He
had asked Lackerby to ride with him because he liked Lackerby, yes;
he had done so ever since they had been at Eton together. They often
went to the races together. They frequented the same clubs and they
even had certain female friends in common. Lackerby was a wealthy
man, if only a Viscount. He was one of the few who could afford to
share Dominic's exquisite tastes.

Yet...
on this grey English morning, Dominic had not asked Lackerby out for
sport. It was only a ruse. No. He had other motives.

Some
years ago, Lackerby had been fighting in the war against Napoleon.
Later, his older brother had died of a fever, so Lackerby had
inherited the title. Still. He had been to France and Flanders under
General Cartwright's command.

In
the past Dominic had never wanted to hear the wartime stories, they
made him feel secretly ashamed of himself for not having
participated. Of course, a Duke of Surrey with no heir could not risk
his life in battle as much as he would have wanted to.

“
Didn't
you bring her from Brussels as a filly?” Dominic started his
inquiry.

“
This
mare?” Lackerby frowned. “'Course not, Surrey, she's hardly five
years of age. Surely, you must've seen that!”

“
Really...?”
Dominic tried a different approach. “Thought I'd heard something
like it. Must've mixed it up. Heard about some general of yours being
quite the enthusiast for thoroughbreds...”

“
Ol'
Carty, you mean?” Lackerby smirked. “Man had an eye for a horse,
I tell you. Eye for a woman too. Wife's an absolute stunner, you
wouldn't believe it... he's quite an old boar, he is. Made hundreds
of thousands of pounds in the war. All booty. But an eye for a horse
he has. Would keep all the good ones to him self. I believe he breeds
them somewhere in the remote provinces nowadays. Why? Want to get in
touch? Bet ol' Carty owns some nice mares who wouldn't mind to have a
filly sired by your Lion...”

“
Perchance...
I've been looking for a worthy partner... for my horse,” Dominic
stated, pretending a certain disinterest. “What's he like that ol'
Carty. Nice enough fellow?”

Lackerby
laughed. “Who? General Cartwright?” He laughed even more.

“
Was
it such a funny question?”

Lackerby
drew a deep breath and smiled confidently. “No, no. He's quite
alright. A little rough around the edges as these military types tend
to be, but if you know how to take them, like I do, you're getting
along just fine. Never had any trouble with Ol' Carty, not me --- but
I have to tell you about this redhead I met, a new dancer at the
opera, marvellous creature! Not as beautiful as Ol' Carty's wife. Now
that's a different story...”

Dominic
saw no reason to push Lackerby any further. Obviously, Darlington had
mixed something up when had told the duke how Lackerby had always
spoken so fearfully of Gigi's father.

Gigi.

Tonight,
he would see her again.

For
the first time in his life he would go to a ball for debutantes.

He
had instructed his valet Markston to lay out his finest suit, hat,
handcuffs and other manly ornaments.

Never
had a duke looked more ducal than
he
would at Lady
Winston's insipid ball!

Eugenia
simply had to faint into his arms upon seeing him in all his manly
splendour.

He
pictured her sighing, falling! He would carry her across the
dance-floor, out into his waiting carriage, drawn by eight black
horses.

Lackerby
had not noticed his companion's dreamy expression and proceeded to
chatter about Lady Cartwright's beauty. “That wife's a stunner.
Some countess she was, but don't ask me names...”

***

They
reached London in the early afternoon.

Dominic's
heart beat violently as he ran up the stairs into his dressing
chamber.

A
bath. He needed a bath!

He
rang bells and shouted through the house until the servants brought
the tub and filled it with hot water. After he had stewed for almost
an hour, he shouted again.

This
time, Markston showed up with a razor and a few other devices for
grooming His Grace's most eminent person.

At
six o'clock, Dominic's preparations were completed.

He
critically inspected himself in the looking glass and found faults
beyond counting. Markston did his best to remedy these and by seven,
the duke could not think of anything else to be improved.

He
helped himself to one or two, maybe three glasses of brandy and
shouted for the carriage.

On
his way to Lady Winston's he strengthened his ducal resolve. He sat
up straight. He practiced his manliest voice and his most charming
smile.

The
carriage briefly stopped to pick up Darlington at his Mayfair
residence.

“
Surrey,
you blind me!” Darlington exclaimed.

“
Shut
your mouth or I'll do it for you,” Dominic growled. “Do I look
alright?”

“
You
could look like an old divan, Surrey, nobody would mind! You're
Surrey, ‘
fter’ll!
”

Dominic
nodded and meditatively repeated to himself that he, indeed,
was
Surrey.

At
Lady Winston's house Dominic languorously wafted past the footman at
the door who was left standing there with his mouth hanging open.

“
He’s
Surrey,” Darlington explained laconically.

Inside,
Dominic instantly began to browse through the crowd like a panther
would browse through the jungle, stalking its prey. He saw several
familiar faces but he could not be bothered to greet anybody. As
always, Darlington was in charge of being polite to other people.

Dominic
did not even notice the outcries of surprise at his arrival, the
exclamations of delight by mothers and daughters alike, the whispered
“Surreys” and “dukes” behind his back.

Finally
he spotted Lady Cartwright and Lady Tarly deep in conversation with
another lady of whose identity Dominic was ignorant and intended to
remain so.

Luckily,
they were standing next to a wide column so Dominic positioned
himself behind it to eavesdrop.

“
She's
exquisite. Exquisite. She'll find a husband in no time,” the
unknown lady babbled.

“
Quite.”
Lady Cartwright agreed without appearing to actually do so.

“
Oh,
but little Flora Parker will have a hard time. She is pretty, yes,
nice blue eyes, dark curls, but tiny! I hear her character is not the
best either.”

Lady
Tarly fanned herself energetically. “Yes, Delilah, it
is
as you say! But
Mary's daughter seems to find her remarkable. They've been
inseparable since our picnic at Windsor three days ago. They pay long
visits to one another and neglect everything else in the world.”

The
woman named Delilah arched her brow. “Mary, Mary. Now your daughter
is by far the best looking girl this season but she's not fetching!
She's pushing the young men away. She is scaring them off! Nobody can
actually be
as
bored as
she
pretends to be.
Instead of plotting mischief with Miss Parker she should be dancing
and smiling. Nobody wants a grumpy wife. Well, it's not as if you
needed the money, from what I hear you husband has prospered---”

“
We're
doing perfectly fine, thank you Delilah,” Lady Cartwright
interrupted with an insincere smile.

“
Cartwright
is coming to London,” Lady Tarly informed the other woman.

“
Oh,
is he?” Delilah was evidently not sure what emotion to convey.

“
Yes,”
Lady Cartwright smiled. “His letter reached me this morning. We're
expecting him and Mr. Wimple on the morrow. Mr. Wimple's in an awful
temper when Eugenia isn't around. My husband couldn't endure it
anymore and decided to take him to London. Sometimes I think Mr.
Wimple's master in my house.... Nevertheless, it'll be a wonderful
surprise for my daughter. She's been mourning Mr. Wimple's absence
ever since we left Yorkshire.”

Mr.
Wimple! Again, this Mr. Wimple. I'm going to drown Mr. Wimple in the
Thames! She swore on his life that she'd marry ME if I ever proposed,
but she won't even have to make the sacrifice because that fine Mr.
Wimple will be in the ground already!

Dominic
stepped away from the column to recover from an overwhelming feeling
of jealousy. He took a glass of champagne from a tray and gulped it
down. Three brandies had not been enough to mellow him. At least not
enough to endure a
laudatio
on Mr. Wimple.

He
scanned the guests. Eugenia Cartwright was nowhere to be seen.

It
was sheer luck when he eventually discovered her. In fact, somebody
else had spotted her before him. Several somebodies. At one point,
Dominic noticed that rather a lot of young men were conspicuously
gazing out onto the lit terrace, all of them focussing on the same
spot. Dominic, like all men in love with a woman, believed that all
other
men
were in love with that same woman, too.

It
was only logical to him that these lechers were staring at his
beloved Gigi.

He
advanced towards a window and found he was right.

Gigi
the pirate was sitting in an alcove, surrounded by flowers. There was
some other girl with her whom Dominic did not trouble himself to look
at.

He
had eyes only for her.

She
was even more supreme, more divine, more
everything
than before!

How
could this ball take place around her, when all mankind should do was
praise her?

Dominic
checked himself.

He
had sworn he would behave properly, no extravagant displays of drama
were asked for, only calculation. He had always been able to keep a
cool head in the most difficult situations and now this ability was
needed more than anything.

The
duke straightened himself once more and surveyed the ballroom.

How
could he create a chance meeting with his adored Miss Cartwright? She
would have to get out of that alcove sooner or later, would she not?

Yes,
I'll stand over there by the door to the garden, looking into another
direction. Once she comes back in again, I will, quite by accident,
collide with her and she'll faint and I'll carry her into my
carriage... which is only drawn by four horses today and none of them
black. Never mind. I shall devour and punish her naked body for the
rest of time in my dark and gloomy castle at, err, Grosvenor
Square...

Dominic
carefully manoeuvred himself to his strategic post.

Immediately
women, young and old, were pushing towards him. Suddenly there were
only
women within a radius
of thirty feet, arching their necks, lifting their cleavages,
fluttering their lashes and smiling, smiling, smiling.

It
was at times like these Dominic was most grateful to be the Duke of
Surrey.

Nobody
dared to address him, not even people to whom he had been introduced.