How to Dazzle a Duke (28 page)

Sarah, aged five and three, were properly fed and bedded, a

preposterous concern as they were properly cared for each night

and Katherine was entirely responsible for that being so.

As a widow, a most unhappy one, she lived with them, a most

happy circumstance. Edenham liked a woman in the house

and he had always particularly liked Kay. She was his younger

sister by eight years, having lost a middle sister, Sarah, to a riding

accident when she just a child, and he was very protective of her.

Perhaps too protective, but when one saw death as often as they

had done, one was perhaps allowed a bit of laxity on degrees of

protectiveness and, indeed, morbidity. Of course, when one kept

company with Sophia Dalby, one was allowed neither of those

things. And perhaps, no, indeed, that was for the best. He and

Katherine had become entirely too morbid and utterly reclusive.

It was no way to live, and he was going to do better. He was also,

with a great deal of resistance on her part, insistent that Kather

ine also do better. Hence, this evening out. Hence, her delays.

As the event was at the Countess of Lanreath’s home and as

her sister the Countess of Paignton had engaged in a very poorly

concealed affair with Katherine’s husband, her delays were en

tirely logical. But they could delay no longer. If Katherine could

face Lady Paignton, she could face anyone. And indeed, must be

able to face anyone.

Life, for all its sorrows, must be lived.

He believed it. He just had the devil of a time convincing

Katherine of it. She’d always been given to melancholy, even as

a child. He had very likely indulged that side of her nature too

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199

freely. It hadn’t done her a bit of good, and he was going to make

amends for it by dragging her, if need be, to Lady Lanreath’s

doorstep. It might actually come to that.

“You need to get out of this house, Kay. It’s swallowing you

whole.”

“I may need to get out of this house, but I don’t need to go

into that house,” she said, fussing with the back of her hair. Kath

erine had warm brown hair with strands of gold, quite like

Sarah’s hair. In fact, his daughter and his sister looked much

alike, which pleased him profoundly.

“I need you at my side,” he said, taking her hand in his. “This

is no easy thing for me, either.”

“I don’t believe you for an instant,” she said, smiling reluc

tantly up at him. “Don’t think I haven’t heard the rumors,

Hugh. Some pretty young thing wants to be the next Duchess of

Edenham. What do you have to worry about?”

“That some young thing wants to be my next duchess?” he

said, grinning. “Don’t you think I’ve had enough wives?”

“No,” she said, taking his arm as the door was held open for

them. “And I don’t believe you think so either. Some men love to

be married and you, dear brother, are one of them. Oh, you’re

in scarce supply, I’ve no doubt of that, but you exist, you marry

ing men, and we women must hunt you down like the rare things

you are.”

“That sounds positively ghastly and quite utterly ruthless.”

Katherine smiled as they walked out into the night. “And

so it is.”

6

“AND so it is that I find myself here unfashionably late, Lady

Lanreath,” Lord Dutton said, his penetrating blue eyes trying

very hard to pierce her civil and slightly distant exterior to the

heart he must assume beat within.
Assume
because she gave no

200 CLAUDIA DAIN

outward appearance of being at all interested in men in general

or of Dutton in particular. Antoinette knew this to be true be

cause she had made something of a practice of appearing com

pletely proper and entirely inaccessible her whole adult life. It

had made being married to a man as old as her father slightly

more bearable than anyone could have supposed. She had never

actually denied him anything, but she hadn’t welcomed him ei

ther. A fine line and she walked it very well. “I do hope you can

forgive me.”

“Without hesitation,” she said. “You are not alone, Lord Dut

ton. There seems much lingering at White’s this evening. I sup

pose you were caught in the same net?”

Dutton smiled and shrugged. “I was. ’Tis wager upon wager

tonight, quite entertaining.”

“Isn’t it always?” she said, being purposefully vague.

It was quite the most ridiculous thing, but she had never un

derstood the fascination most of the ton had for wagering. It

seemed a complete waste of time and capital. As she had married

to secure a bit of capital, she was very concerned that her sacri

fice not be dribbled away over a series of poor wagers. Wager

upon wager, it was always the same and with the same result.

Someone ruined. Someone desperate. Someone, briefl y, victori

ous. Until the next wager.

“You may well find,” Dutton said, looking particularly hand

some, to be honest, “that your soiree is the most talked about

entertainment of the Season.”

“I do hope so, naturally,” she said, “but hardly think it likely.

I have been told by my cook that the oysters delivered today

are not at all up to his standards. I can’t think what my guests

will say.”

Dutton smiled. He was quite good-looking and fairly discreet,

by all reports, which would have been an oxymoron in any town

but London. “Lady Lanreath, I refuse to believe that any oysters

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201

you serve would be anything but perfection on the tongue.”

There was something about the way he said
on the tongue
that was

very deliberately provocative.

She liked that.

“I was, of course,” Dutton continued, leaning in closer to

her, teasing her with the scent of him, “referring to the Duke of

Edenham and Lord Iveston. They are the subjects of countless

wagers, which I do hope will be decided tonight.”

“A wager concerning . . . ?”

“A woman, naturally.”

“Naturally. All the most contested wagers involve a woman.”

“But this woman,” Dutton began slowly, his eyes scanning the

room, “is not the sort one usually wagers over. It is most remark

able and quite unusual, which surely speaks to something.”

“To be remarkable and unusual is surely a point of consider

able pride for her,” Antoinette said, watching Dutton’s gaze, noting

when it halted upon Mrs. Warren and Lord Staverton, lingered,

burned, and then moved on to where Sophia Dalby was pass

ing through the doorway from the reception room to the drawing

room, Mr. Grey at her side. Mr. Grey was quite remarkable and

unique himself; she did hope Bernadette was not tempted to bite

from that particular fruit. Mr. Grey was no London dandy, or even

something so common as a rake. Her gaze drifted back to Lord

Dutton. Rakes had their own charms and their own dangers, and

certainly Bernadette had ample experience of them, but Mr.

George Grey was nothing so simple as a rake. “I take it she has

never been married?”

“I beg your pardon?” Dutton said, pulling his gaze away from

Mrs. Warren. “Oh, yes, certainly. Never married, which makes

the wager all the more titillating, naturally.”

“Truly? I had heard that there was something of a rush on

wagers concerning unmarried women of late. Starting with So

phia’s daughter, wasn’t it? Then moving to Lady Louisa Kirkland

202 CLAUDIA DAIN

and then, so very recently, Lady Amelia Caversham. It seems to

have become the fashion to get a wager placed on White’s book,

though I do wonder how these girls manage it. It wasn’t at all the

thing when I married, but times and fashions do change so rap

idly, don’t they? I shouldn’t think but that the new challenge will

be for a woman of some experience of the world to work her way

onto White’s book. The trouble, surely, is that what could the

wager possibly entail?”

Dutton smiled at her, a slow smile of seduction that she quite

appreciated. She’d yet to take a lover, quite unlike Bernadette

who took up lovers the way most women took up hats. She lived

a careful life, but sometimes, on drizzly winter mornings or long

summer evenings, she did wonder if being careful was quite the

wisest course. Then she discarded the thought because being

careful and precise was far more comfortable a habit than being

the reverse. Yet, Dutton was a supremely seductive man, quite in

the prime of his beauty. He would not be a bad choice to invite

into her bed. Surely she could do worse.

“Lady Lanreath,” Dutton said softly, “if you want your name

to appear on White’s book, you have only to ask it. I am quite

certain I can think of something provocative to wager concern

ing you, something that will rouse the most avid speculation.”

“Lord Dutton, I do believe you mean to fl atter me.”

“And are you fl attered?”

“When you’ve placed the wager, tell me of it, and then I shall

answer you,” she said, looking again about the room. About half

the party had drifted into the drawing room, following Lord

Iveston and Miss Prestwick, one could only assume. “Until then,

won’t you tell me what the wager is and whom it concerns?”

“It is very unusual, I must say, even as these wagers are be

coming something of a fashion, because it involves not one man

and one woman, but two men and one woman.”

“On White’s book? Is that quite the thing?”

How to Daz zle a Duke

203

“No, no, you misunderstand me. I mean to say that it involves

the question of which of two men will marry the girl. The men

are, as you may have guessed, the Duke of Edenham and Lord

Iveston. The girl—”

“Miss Penelope Prestwick,” Antoinette said, cutting him off.

She really did have to get into the drawing room. Dutton was

amusing, but she did have a soiree to host.

“You’d heard?”

“Not precisely, Lord Dutton. It is only that Miss Prestwick

was most enthusiastically escorted from this room by Lord

Iveston upwards of a half hour ago. To see how he looked at her,

well, the conclusion is inescapable.”

“Truly? Inescapable?” Dutton said.

“I should say so,” Antoinette answered. “You are certainly

encouraged to see for yourself.”

And so saying, they walked into the drawing room side by

side. A sight not unnoticed by Mrs. Warren.

Sixteen

“I suppose you want to begin kissing me now,” Penelope said

stiffly. “The room is quite full and you would ruin me entirely,

which I suspect would cause you no little amusement.”

Iveston smiled and said, “You sound very much as if you want

me to ruin you. Do you?”

“Of course not!” she said sharply.

Little Miss Prestwick was quite appealing when she was sharp,

very nearly gleaming like a blade. He had never thought to fi nd

such behavior in a woman at all attractive, but on her, it was very

nearly adorable. Of course, he didn’t believe a word of her story

about the groom. Oh, it was very obvious she’d been kissed be

fore, briefly and perhaps pleasantly, but an afternoon in a stable

with a groom? She’d likely heard the story as shared between two

milkmaids. A milkmaid and a groom sharing an amorous moment

was to be expected. Penelope with a groom, his dirty hands on

her face, his roughly shaven chin rubbing against the skin of her

jaw . . . he quivered in outrage just imagining it. No, she had

kissed no groom. He was not going to entertain the thought for

How to Daz zle a Duke

205

another moment. But he was going to kiss her. And he was going

to teach her a lesson about kissing in the bargain.

How exactly he was going to do all that, he had no idea what

soever, but he was convinced that he would do it and that he

would do it well.

“Of course not, for then how could you induce Edenham to

marry you? Foolish of me to have forgotten that.”

“It certainly was, though I don’t think you need to say it so

often. It’s not as if I’m going to forget my purpose. And someone

might overhear you.”

“The Duke of Edenham, for example.”

“If he ever arrives,” she said on a huff of annoyance, casting

a glance about the room. “I can’t think why you’re wasting time

with me now, when he’s not yet arrived.”

“Can’t you? How peculiar. But then, you are in the habit of

being peculiar.”

Penelope flared like a match, her dark eyes glowing like coals

against her flawless skin. “Perhaps only with you, Lord Iveston.

Did you consider that?”

“No, actually, I did not.”

“Perhaps you should.”

“Now, now, Miss Prestwick,” he said, grinning amiably, “is it

quite wise of you to berate me? I thought we had made a bargain,

and it is you who need my aid, not the reverse.”

“Really?” she answered smoothly. “I had come to the conclu

sion that what you wanted from me was kisses, the more the

better. The sooner the better as well, given your latest declara

tion. What to think but that you are a very inexperienced sort of