Duchess 02 - Surprising Lord Jack (14 page)

“Mama is never wrong about these things,” Jack said.

“Exactly!” Her Grace actually grinned.

Frances felt as if she were drowning. Why were these people so determined to drag her into London society? There must be some excuse she could use to get free of them—of course. It was weak, but perhaps it would work.

“I can’t stay here, Your Grace. Daisy, my poor horse, went lame on my journey, and I had to leave her at an inn along the way. I need to go back and fetch her.”

“Oh, don’t worry about that.” The duchess dismissed her excuse with an easy wave of her hand. “We’ll send a groom down to bring her to London or take her back to Landsford, whatever you like. Though taking her to Landsford might be the best plan. I can’t advise riding a horse in Town that’s not used to London, and in any event you need to let your aunt know that you are safe. She is probably beside herself with worry.”

It was hard to imagine Viola being anything other than furious. “But . . .”

Apparently the duchess was done with listening to Frances’s ineffectual protestations. “The first thing to do is to get you a new wardrobe,” Her Grace said. “I must take Ellie, our son Ned’s betrothed, to the dressmaker’s anyway; it will be no problem at all to take you along as well. In fact, I’m sure Ellie would be happy for the company. I must tell you her wardrobe is almost as sad as yours.” She examined Frances again. “Well, that would be impossible. Hmm. Now that I think about it, I believe we should have Madam Celeste come here.”

“But . . .” Why wouldn’t Jack’s mother listen to reason?

“You would be wise to capitulate now, Miss Hadley,” the duke said. “My wife is very tenacious and, much as I do hate to admit it, generally right.”

“Yes,” Jack said. “That’s why I wrote to Mama, Miss Hadley. I have complete confidence that she’ll bring us about.”

“And please remember this does affect Jack’s reputation as well as yours, my dear,” Her Grace said. “You must take pity on him and help him maintain his position in society.”

Jack nodded. “Yes, Miss Hadley. You’d be doing me a great favor if you will do as Mama asks.”

“But . . . oh, very well.” With Frederick married, she needed to plot a new course anyway, and if the cost of her new wardrobe depleted the estate and Frederick’s future funds, well, she couldn’t find it in herself to care very much.

Jack looked up from the newspapers he’d spread over the desk when he heard someone come into the study. “Ned—and Shakespeare!”

Shakespeare barked a welcome and came over to allow Jack to scratch his ears. It had certainly taken him no time at all to make himself at home in Greycliffe House. “Where’s Ellie?”

Ned sat in the chair across the desk from him. “Where do you think she is? Braxton was on the watch for us and snatched her from me the moment we got back from walking Shakespeare. He said an army of dressmakers is waiting for her in one of the sitting rooms.”

“Not an army—Madam Celeste and two of her assistants plus countless bolts of fabric. It took Richard and William three trips to the carriage to bring everything in.”

Ned frowned. “I don’t know why Mama is in such a hurry.”

“Well, you have yet to meet Miss Hadley, but, trust me, her need for a new wardrobe is rather an emergency—and she is not terribly cooperative. We will just have to hope Mama’s presence will keep her from leaping out a window or stabbing Madam Celeste with her own scissors.” Jack grinned. “And much as I’m sure Ellie would prefer to spend her time with you, you have to agree she could stand to have a few new things besides that lovely red dress she wore to the birthday ball.”

Ned’s cheeks turned almost as red as the dress. “Ellie is beautiful whatever she wears.”

“Of course.” Jack stretched; his shoulders and neck were tight from being hunched over. “When is the wedding, by the by?”

“I’m off to get a special license shortly. The plan is to wed as soon as may be.”

Since Jack was quite sure Ned and Ellie had anticipated their vows—and would likely continue to do so—the sooner they tied the knot, the better. “Are you going back to the castle for the ceremony?”

“No. Mama suggested we get married here, and Ellie and I thought it a good idea. One wedding in Greycliffe Castle chapel was enough for me.” Ned grimaced. “And since Mama seems to think it’s important Ellie be introduced to society, we’ll spend a week or two in Town.”

“Splendid. I confess I’m hoping Ellie may be able to serve as a friend to Miss Hadley. The woman is a bit, er, prickly, and to add to the mess, there are likely some unpleasant stories circulating about us.”

“Stories? What kind of stories?” Ned’s brows snapped down. “What have you done?”

“I haven’t done anything, damn it.” Trust Ned to jump to that conclusion. “We are merely the victims of a set of unfortunate circumstances.”

“Hmm.”

If Ned accused him of being careless, he was going to push the blasted desk over on him.

Instead his brother nodded. “Of course you can rely on me—and I’m sure Ellie as well, though I suspect Mama will bring the thing about in short order. Where’s Father?”

Jack was surprised at how relieved he felt that Ned supported him. “Out doing his part to discredit the malicious tales.”

“Good.” Ned finally looked down at the newspapers strewn over the desk. “Have the stories shown up in the gossip columns, then?”

“No. Or at least not yet. Or not that I’ve seen.” Damn, he hadn’t checked, but if the men at White’s had been talking about it last night—

He flipped to that section of the morning paper. Bloody hell.

“Yes.” He handed the paper to Ned.

“‘Lord J——, just returned to Town, has already shocked the
ton
by driving through our fine metropolis with Miss H——, who was dressed in
breeches
. Is this the new fashion in the country? And what can our dear D——of L——think of the rakish Lord J——sharing a bed at an inn with the scandalous Miss?’”

Ned put the paper down and stared at Jack. “Even you wouldn’t do something so outrageous.”

“What do you mean,
even you
?” Maybe he didn’t want his idiot brother’s support.

Ned frowned and opened his mouth as if to say something—and then obviously thought better of it. Perhaps his newfound love had made him more aware of emotional undercurrents—or perhaps he’d noted Jack’s fisted hands, itching to punch him in the face. “Why don’t you tell me what actually happened?”

Jack sighed. That was the devil of it, wasn’t it? “Unfortunately, the account is true, only I sincerely thought Miss Hadley was a boy. She’d disguised herself to come up to London and, er, discuss some issues with her family’s man of business.”
Discuss
wasn’t precisely what he suspected Frances intended to do. Demand, browbeat, shout—those were likely more accurate verbs.

“Ah.” Ned cleared his throat. “I see.”

“No, of course you don’t see. It’s a damnable coil, really. I’m hoping Mama can sort things out, but if she can’t, I’ll have to marry the girl.”

Ned’s hand shot across the desk to grasp his. “Don’t marry someone you can’t love.” His grip tightened before he released Jack. “We’ll find a way to fix this. Is the girl a complete hoyden?”

“No!” Frances was strong-willed, hardheaded, and argumentative, but she wasn’t a hoyden.

Shakespeare, who’d settled down by his feet, lifted his head and whined at his sharp tone.

Jack struggled to modulate his voice. “She was just desperate and somewhat misguided.” She’d been completely mad, but he had to admire her pluck.

“If she’s been parading around in breeches, she certainly is misguided.” Ned sounded quite shocked. No surprise, that. A woman in breeches would not suit his brother’s notion of proper behavior.

It wouldn’t suit anyone’s notion, which is why they were in this mess.

“Yes, well, she really didn’t do anything wrong—”

Ned’s brows almost climbed off his forehead.

“—and definitely doesn’t deserve to be shunned, which she will be if I don’t marry her, assuming Mama can’t bring things about.”

Ned gave him a brotherly punch in the arm. “Buck up, Jack. Mama’s sure to work her usual miracles. If the Duchess of Love takes her up, everyone will, won’t they?”

“I do hope so. And it should also help that Rothmarsh is her grandfather.”

Ned let out a long, low whistle. “Yes indeed, though I can’t imagine why Rothmarsh’s granddaughter would be coming to London in breeches.”

Jack straightened the newspapers. “There was a falling out in the family. Miss Hadley has never met her mother’s relatives.”

“Hmm. That could be a bit of a problem.”

Everything related to Miss Hadley seemed to be a bit of a problem.

“Well, I’m sure Mama will work that out as well,” Ned said. “So what are you doing perusing these papers if not searching the gossip columns?”

“There’s actually a problem larger than my endangered bachelorhood in Town at the moment: an anonymous killer is at large. The papers have dubbed him the Silent Slasher because he cuts his victims’ throats, but no one has ever heard a scream or any sound of a scuffle.”

Ned stared at him for a full minute and then surged to his feet. “Zeus, I hate London. It’s too big and anonymous.” His eyes clouded with worry. “I’m taking Ellie back to the castle in the morning. We can be married by her father at the vicarage and then go off to my estate.”

Damn, that would not be a good thing. “But if you do that, people will think you left because you disapproved of Miss Hadley.”

Ned started toward the door, clearly eager to begin making arrangements for his return to the country. “I’m very sorry for it if that’s the case, but Ellie’s safety must take priority.”

Jack rose, too. “But Ned—”

“What about my safety?” Ellie asked, almost colliding with Ned in the doorway.

At the sound of Ellie’s voice, Ned’s expression changed. His eyes lit up and his lips pulled into a wide grin. He looked completely, utterly, madly, in love.

Jack felt a sharp jab of envy and a touch of . . . what?

Dread. He did not want to marry Miss Hadley and be forced to endure a loveless union for the rest of his life.

“We are leaving London in the morning, my love,” Ned said, taking her hand.

“We are?” Ellie shot a puzzled look at Jack. “Why? We just got here.” She smiled up at Ned. “Madam Celeste will be quite distressed. She’s making me an outrageous number of dresses.”

“She can send them to us in the country.” Ned brushed his lips over her fingers. “And why are you suddenly so interested in clothes?” His expression turned markedly lascivious. “You won’t have much need of them.”

Clearly, Ned was not referring to the country’s more limited range of social events. Ellie’s cheeks turned bright red, and she jerked her fingers out of Ned’s grip. “Behave yourself, sir. You are putting poor Jack to the blush.”

Ned laughed. “Am I, Jack?”

“Definitely.”

The envy and dread twisted together in Jack’s gut to form a heavy lump. He not only didn’t love Miss Hadley, he didn’t feel the slightest whisper of lust for her.

Of course he didn’t. She looked like a young boy.

He did like her, though. She was prickly and independent and foolhardy, but she was brave and determined, too. She’d made it through all the ugliness of Hart Street—the dirt and stench and Nan’s brothel—without a single case of the vapors. And she’d taken his foundling home in stride.

She needed him at the moment. He just hoped he could help her without having to marry her.

“We can’t go home now,” Ellie said. “We’d be leaving Miss Hadley in the lurch.”

“Mama will take charge of her, Ellie. And Jack says she has relatives in London who will stand by her as well.”

“Yes, but the duchess was just saying how poor Frances has no female cousins.” Ellie smiled and put her hand on Ned’s arm, shaking it a little. “I think she needs a friend.”

“Yes, well, that may be. It is kind of you to think of Miss Hadley’s welfare, but we are still leaving in the morning.”

“But why? You still haven’t told me why.”

Ned frowned at her. “Because Jack tells me there’s a lunatic at large, murdering women.”

“Oh?” Ellie looked at Jack. “How many people has this person killed, Jack?”

“Eight. Five prostitutes and three female members of the
ton
.”

“And do you think it’s too dangerous for me to stay?”

“Jack,” Ned said, a distinct warning in his voice.

“I can no more tell you what to do than Ned can, Ellie, but I will say Mama is staying.”

Ned growled. Jack ignored him.

“As long as you don’t go wandering off into the dark without Ned at your side—”

“No chance of that,” Ned said.

“—you should be perfectly safe.”

“Splendid.”

“Ellie—” Ned was clearly readying an impassioned argument, but Ellie put her finger on his lips.

“Ned, your mother has everything planned. I’m the first daughter-in-law she’s been able to bring up to Town, and I think she’s looking forward to presenting me to the
ton
. And I’m looking forward to seeing some of the London sights and going to my first London ball with the handsomest man in the room at my side.” She grinned at Jack. “No offense, Jack.”

He bowed. “None taken. I’m delighted you find my ugly brother attractive.”

Ellie laughed, and then looked back up at Ned. “And I wouldn’t mind having someone else who’s new to the
ton
by my side, Ned.”

“
I’ll
be by your side,” Ned said, looking very disgruntled.

Ellie rested her head briefly against his shoulder. “I know, but it’s not the same. Not only are you a man, you’re used to being, if not the center of attention, then the focus of much interest.” Ellie suddenly looked a little pale. “You’re used to having people stare at you.”

Ned snorted. “
Ton
parties are nothing more than a crush of annoying, gossipy, overdressed nincompoops—my mother’s Valentine party magnified a hundred times. I believe you are making a great deal over nothing.”

“See? I told you you wouldn’t understand.”

Ned scowled at her. “What don’t I understand?”

Ellie patted his arm. “Let’s stay, Ned, at least for a little while. If things seem truly alarming, we’ll leave then, all right?”

Ned’s scowl deepened, and then he capitulated. “All right. But you must promise to stay close to me and not do anything foolish.”

Ellie leaned into Ned. Her voice took on an intimate, husky tone. “Oh, I promise I’ll stay
very
close to you.”

It was clearly time for a change of subject.

“Where is Miss Hadley, Ellie?” Jack asked.

Ellie smiled at him. “She’s still getting fitted. She has truly nothing to wear, so Madam Celeste is making up two dresses immediately. And of course she needed her hair cut as well.”

“Isn’t it short enough?” Jack couldn’t imagine Miss Hadley’s hair trimmed any shorter.

“Yes, but one of Madam Celeste’s girls, who’s very good with her scissors, shaped it so it looks a bit more, er, planned. In any event, it will still be a while before she is ready, which is why the duchess set me free.” Ellie laughed. “I think Her Grace feels she needs to stay in the room or Miss Hadley will bolt.”

Jack sighed. “She very likely would.”

 

 

“Surely I don’t need another walking dress,” Frances said. It was one thing to dip into Frederick’s funds; it was quite another to completely bankrupt him. Madam Celeste was talking about walking dresses and carriage dresses and habits and ball gowns, not to mention chemises and stockings and gloves. She looked at the fabric piling up on the sitting room sofa.

Perhaps it
would
be better if she returned to the country. The gossip couldn’t be that dreadful, could it? More likely it would be a case of out of sight, out of mind. She would sink back into anonymity like a pebble thrown into the center of a pond. There might—might—be some brief, small ripples, and then all would be quiet and smooth again.