How to Dazzle a Duke (14 page)

as far as John was concerned and that there would be no opening

of it. Of course, that didn’t mean that he couldn’t, or wouldn’t,

ask his mother.

Dalby cleared his throat, clearly amused. The Indians did not

look amused in the slightest, not even George, who looked

amused more often than not. What the devil was so amusing

about the British aristocracy?

“But how do you know which Elliot ship is on its way?” Cran

leigh asked, clearly disturbed by the knowledge that these Indi

ans knew more on any subject than he did. A perfectly

understandable reaction.

94 CLAUDIA DAIN

“We saw her in New York Harbor, Lord Cranleigh,” George

Grey answered. “We talked to her captain. We know the Elliots.”

Iveston was at a complete loss for words. So, it was readily

apparent, was Cranleigh. Sophia’s Indians knew their American

cousins? How was it possible?

“But about that wager,” George continued, “as it will suit me

to spend as much time as I can with you English, I will arbi

trate the bet. How long must I”—and here George Grey, Indian,

paused to look at Miss Prestwick in what could only be termed

the most horridly interested fashion—“watch her?”

“Three days,” Iveston snapped.

“Only three?” George said slowly, still staring at Miss Prest

wick. Miss Prestwick must have felt his leer, for that’s what it

clearly was, because she turned from talking to her brother, an

other George, which really was so very inconvenient, to glare at

Mr. Grey. Good for her. Showed such pluck. “I guess I’ll have to

make do with that.”

“Make do?” Iveston said. “I don’t think you have the gist of

the thing at all, Mr. Grey. You are to observe, not interact. I as

sume that’s most clear to you?”

“You can assume whatever you want, Lord Iveston,” George

said without a smidgen of shame. Well, he was an Iroquois.

One should never expect shame from one of their number.

Actually, as he was a blood relative of Sophia Dalby, his lack of

shame made even more sense. “You have your task before you.

I have mine.”

Lord Dalby very nearly chuckled. Oh, he tried to smother it,

but Iveston heard it all the same.

“You must not interfere or you will spoil the wager,” Iveston

said.

“I understand,” George Grey said, grinning like the very

devil.

How to Daz zle a Duke

95

“’Tis three days from now, Iveston,” Cranleigh said, grabbing

him by the elbow. Whatever for? He wasn’t going to thrash the

grinning Indian, was he? Or was he? He hadn’t felt this annoyed

in years, and perhaps not
this
annoyed even then. “Best get to it

and not waste any more time here. He’ll be impartial, that’s

certain.”

Hardly certain, what with all the leering at Miss Prestwick.

Not that he actually cared in any personal sense, but as Miss

Prestwick was an innocent English girl of good family, he did feel

some general sense of responsibility, something along the lines

of national pride or blanket patriotism. Or something like that.

Eight

“GEORGE,” Penelope whispered to her brother, “one of those In

dians is staring at me.”

George looked around the room in the most casual manner

imaginable, his glance sliding over the group of Indians with no

sense of alarm whatsoever. “You are the only female in the room,

Pen. That must account for it.”

“Now they’re
all
looking,” she said, staring back at them.

Nothing so tepid as a stare was going to intimidate her. “And I

do think I have some charm beyond being the only female avail

able! How insulting. If I didn’t need you to chaperone me I’d

dispense with you immediately.”

“I’d best behave or I shall find that I have all my time to my

self,” George said with a very cheeky grin.

“Once I am married, you shall be free of me. Let the thought

inspire you,” Penelope said with a cheeky grin of her own.

She did love George. He was quite a lovely companion and

so rarely disagreed with her, which was the nicest thing that

could be said of a person, particularly a male. They were so

regularly difficult and so very nearly irrational. One was left

How to Daz zle a Duke

97

to wonder how they managed anything at all. Certainly they had

somehow got the advantage of women in laws and the general

assignment of power, and she could only surmise that they

had arranged all that when the world had been simply taken over

by swords and battle-axes and things. Of course, it was still a

very bloodthirsty world, but certainly any educated person could

see that a woman was far more self-controlled than a man.

“I am inspired,” George said. “Now, may we leave? It’s rather

late and we have to dress for . . . where are we off to tonight?”

“A soiree at the Countess of Lanreath’s,” Penelope said softly.

“I heard a rumor that Edenham was to attend. I do hope so.”

“Then he should leave Dalby House as well,” George said.

“I don’t know how we shall all get ready with only two hours left

to do so.”

Penelope looked at George. George winked. “I’ll leave Dalby

House when Edenham leaves Dalby House. I should think that

was perfectly obvious, George.”

“I believe, Pen, that it’s perfectly obvious to everyone in

the room.”

She did look about her and they did all, all now including

Edenham, appear to be staring at her. She smiled blandly, set

down her cup, and adjusted her shawl. But she did not leave.

What she did do, which she did think was most bold of her, was

to walk over to the Indians, as well as the Lords Dalby, Cran

leigh, and Iveston as they were all clustered together in a most

uncordial grouping, which did take her very near to where So

phia, Edenham, and Ruan were talking, and say just loud enough

for Edenham to hear her, “I noticed you looking at me, Mr. Grey.

It has caused me to wonder if you have little familiarity with

English women. I would be happy to answer any questions you

might have, to ease your way in our Society, as it were. Are you

staying long in England?”

Mr. Grey, the elder brother, the one who had been staring at

98 CLAUDIA DAIN

her with the most inappropriately direct look, which she was

certain had negatively affected the rest of them into doing

the same, smiled at her, his rather disarming dimple . . . well,

disarming her. He was, it was a shock to note, quite ruthlessly

handsome in a perfectly primitive sort of way. She would not have

thought that either being ruthless or primitive would have been

in any way compelling. As it happened, she was entirely wrong

about that.

“Miss Prestwick,” Mr. Grey answered, “if I do have any ques

tions, I will come directly to you. What is it you think I should

know about English women?”

“That they don’t like being stared at?” Lord Iveston said.
Re

ally.
Had anyone been talking to him?

“Is that true, Miss Prestwick?” Mr. Grey countered, taking a

step nearer to her. He was very nearly looming over her. He

clearly didn’t know the first thing about civilized discourse, but

then, how was he to have learned that in the forests of New York

or New Jersey or wherever his particular forest haunts were?

“English women don’t like being looked at? Sophia is English

enough and she doesn’t seem bothered by it.”

“Sophia Dalby is quite unique,” Penelope said, very diplo

matically, if she did say so herself, “and I certainly would make

no claim to be anything like her.”

“Yet,” George said in a playful tone. As if anyone wanted

playfulness
now.
George, for all that she loved him, did have the

most odd sense of humor.

“I’m certain that if Lady Dalby’s relatives have any questions,

they can ask Lord Dalby, wouldn’t you think, Miss Prestwick?

They are related, after all, and the Greys are hardly strangers to

England,” Lord Iveston said rather crisply.

“But hardly familiars either,” Mr. George Grey answered,

slightly less pleasantly than he had been doing. Apparently he

found Lord Iveston as annoying as she did.

How to Daz zle a Duke

99

“
Familiars
is not a word we use, Mr. Grey,” Penelope said,

breaking the tension between Lord Iveston, who was behaving

more peculiarly than usual, and George Grey, who seemed, quite

up to whatever scant rumors she had heard about Indians, to be

quite prickly. “It has an entirely different connotation.”

“Of witches, Miss Prestwick?” Mr. Grey said with a saucy

grin, his dimple positively winking at her. “Of the cats that

wind round their legs and sleep on their beds in the dark of

night?”

Why, if she didn’t know better, she’d think George Grey was

trying to be very forward with her. As he was an Indian, she

was quite prepared to believe he didn’t know any better. Perhaps

because he was Sophia’s nephew, she was more than willing to

believe it.

“Now, George,” Lord Dalby said, “you know perfectly well

there are no witches in England. Not anymore.”

“No, they all ended up in Massachusetts,” Mr. Grey said,

grinning fully, and then the rogue actually winked at her.

Winked!

“The Iroquois don’t have witches, Mr. Grey?” Iveston asked.

Oh, bother, didn’t he know enough to let the conversation die a

peaceful death?

“Not as pretty as English ones,” Mr. Grey said, looking down

at her.

It was at moments such as this, and very many others as well,

that she wished she were taller. It would be so very satisfying to

stare an unruly man in the eye and give him what for. Of course,

she managed quite well, but it had taken years of practice, mostly

on George.

“I am no witch, Mr. Grey,” she said. “England has quite done

with witches. We have none.”

“Or none we will admit to,” her brother said cheerfully.

“And I do believe we’ve come to pronounce it differently,”

100 CLAUDIA DAIN

Iveston said, looking at
her
, of all people. Whatever was
that

supposed to mean? As Lord Dalby was grinning awkwardly and

as Lord Cranleigh was shaking his head in mild admonishment,

she could only suppose it was something entirely dreadful.

“We should go,” Lord Cranleigh said to his distinctly peculiar

brother. “It’s gone quite late.”

Penelope perked up at the words. Two less men in the room

would make it so much easier to corner Edenham, who was still

talking to Sophia and Lord Ruan. Whatever could they have to

talk about for so long?

“It is, isn’t it?” Lord Iveston said, looking at her in a most

intent and highly unwelcome fashion. “I don’t suppose you have

any interest in Chinese porcelain, Miss Prestwick? My brother

knows quite a bit about it, having traveled to China once or

twice.”

“Once,” Lord Cranleigh said.

“I think it very pretty, of course, Lord Iveston,” she said. “If

I have any further need for information, I shall certainly fi nd my

way to Lord Cranleigh and have all my questions answered. But

don’t let me keep you. I have no pressing questions about Chi

nese porcelain at the moment.”

“You know a good deal about Chinese porcelain, Cranleigh?”

Edenham asked, leaving Sophia and Ruan by the fire and com

ing over to their rather large circle. Penelope straightened her

shoulders a bit and stiffened her spine. She had quite a nice

bosom, quite full and without any droop at all. Men, by every

account available, did enjoy a nice bosom on a woman. “Quite a

lovely piece here. Intriguing shade of green.”

“Celadon,” Cranleigh answered. “A gift from my brother,

Henry. I have just gifted Lady Dalby this blue vase.”

“It’s quite exceptional,” Edenham said, admiring it. “Is

there some reason the Blakesleys are giving Lady Dalby expen

How to Daz zle a Duke

101

sive porcelain? I haven’t forgotten an important anniversary,

have I?”

As they were talking, Penelope, still shoulders back and

bosom nicely lifted, felt Lord Iveston’s eyes upon her. It was most

distracting. Couldn’t he see that he was blocking her view of the

Duke of Edenham?

“No, I shouldn’t think so,” Cranleigh answered.

The Indians and Lord Dalby had moved off a bit, talking

amongst themselves, which was a relief. She was down to four

men, if she included George, which she did not. If only she could

urge Iveston and Cranleigh out of Dalby House she might be

able to manage five minutes of near solitude with Edenham. They

wouldn’t be actually alone, because that would be too forward by

half, but if she could just speak to him and impress him with her

pleasant demeanor and her cleavage, and she did not care a whit

which impressed him more, then this entire afternoon would have

been worth every inconvenience, even the dreary Lord Iveston.

“It’s only that we’ve each just got married, you see,” Cran

leigh continued.

“And you’re giving Sophia a wedding gift?” Edenham