How to Dazzle a Duke (4 page)

Dalby, she knew what she wanted, and what she wanted was

Edenham.

He was nearly fatally handsome.

If she were going to marry a duke, why not marry the

most handsome one available to her? And he was available.

He had had his three wives and he had his two heirs, but could

not a duke in the prime of life do with another fetching wife?

And she was fetching; she knew she was. She had a mirror,

didn’t she?

She was a fine-looking woman and she had a fine, fat settle

ment upon her, her father being no dullard and understanding

very well that a rich purse was a nearly irresistible inducement

to marry, even for a duke with a fat purse of his own. Was not

having more wealth to be preferred in every circumstance?

Of course it was. Surely a duke knew that better than anyone.

How to Daz zle a Duke

21

Penelope gripped her shawl firmly and waved crisply at

George, who was loitering across Park Lane, ambling with

evident cheer along the northernmost rim of Hyde Park. George

was often wasting time in Hyde Park; he did love a good

stretch of the leg, as he put it, and walked when any other

man would have ridden. Any other man who was deeply and

fully accustomed to being in the upper branches of the ton, that

is. She was quite certain that the Duke of Edenham or even the

rather odd Duke of Calbourne did not waste time walking to no

purpose.

She did want Edenham.

She did not want Calbourne at all. He was rather too tall,

a point which Lady Amelia had made all too publicly very

recently. Calbourne had not taken Amelia’s point very well at

all, which was a puzzle. Didn’t he
know
he was too tall to be

considered elegantly proportioned? Not only was he taller than

was entirely appropriate, he had the most peculiar sense of

humor. And, truth be told, she had not made the most stellar

impression upon him at her ball, a point she was still somewhat

befuddled over. Calbourne was of that particular type who did

not appreciate a logical, well-informed, reasonable woman.

There were, sad to say, quite a few men of similar disposition in

the ton, which did make it terribly inconvenient for a woman of

her particular traits, being well-informed first and foremost

among them.

What opinion the Marquis of Iveston had about women she

had no idea, nor little interest. Lord Iveston was, in a word,

peculiar
. Or that was the rumor of him, and she paid particular

attention to every rumor regarding every member of the ton. She

had to. How else to know how to negotiate the twists and turns of

Society? It was because of her bold observation of who was who

and who did what that she had known to seek out Sophia Dalby

22 CLAUDIA DAIN

for aid. While she was a bit uncertain what it was Sophia actually

did
, she was not at all uncertain that Sophia was very good at

doing it.

Why Iveston should have been the man Sophia preferred for

her was a puzzle, but she thought it might be because Sophia

Dalby was on very close terms with the Hydes and thought rather

more highly of the Hydes than was entirely deserved. She had,

after all, seen two of their sons married in less than a week. That

was not information which could be ignored.

But just because Sophia Dalby had some notion that it might

be entertaining to see all of Hyde’s sons married in the same

Season, there were five marriageable sons as of last month and

two had already been whisked off the marriage mart by Sophia’s

sure hand and ruthless gaze, Penelope felt no obligation at all to

be the fodder for marriage number three.

Iveston was handsome, to be sure, but all the Hydes were

handsome in their tall, blond way. It was only that Iveston,

while only being an heir apparent and not an actual duke in the

full force of his title, which was the point, after all, was so remark

ably odd.

It was a well-known fact that he was very nearly incapable of

speech, which might not be a bad trait to have in a husband, but

it did put him out for ridicule and she had no desire to spend her

life with a ridiculous husband. Not if she could avoid it. Because

of Edenham and his wifeless state, she thought she should be able

to avoid it.

At least Edenham could talk, and was quite charming about

it, too.

“What are you looking so flushed about?” George said by way

of greeting. “Did Lady Dalby fluster you with her bold ways?”

“Hardly,” she huffed, reaching out to straighten his collar. He

looked pleasantly rumpled, which was perfectly fi ne if one were

How to Daz zle a Duke

23

in the country but not at all the thing when one was in Town.

“We have made plans, she and I, and I am about putting them

into play.”

“Plans? What plans?” George said, reaching out to knock her

bonnet askew in response to her very practical and necessary

straightening of his collar.

“Plans to get my duke, George, which would go far better

with a properly arranged bonnet!” she said primly. Trust George

to get playful at the most important moment of her life, the

moment when she began her assault on some duke or other,

preferably Edenham. Iveston in a pinch. Calbourne as a last

gasp necessity. They were so nicely and neatly arranged in her

thoughts; one did hope that they would line up in an equally

orderly fashion when she got round to them in person.

“Which one, Pen?” George asked pleasantly. “You’ve just

missed Edenham it seems.”

Penelope turned and there, of course, went Edenham in all

his gorgeous splendor right up to Dalby House where he was

admitted without pause. He didn’t cast so much as a glance in

her direction. Her timing had been
that
far off with him in this

instance. She resolved to do better next time.

“We’re off to Hyde House, George, where I will present Ame

lia with the famous tattered shawl, thereby proving myself to be

a most stellar friend to her reputation,” Penelope said, marching

off down Upper Brook Street to their house at the end opposite

Dalby House. “If we time this well, I might be introduced to Lord

Iveston.”

“You fancy Lord Iveston, Pen?” George asked.

“Not particularly,” Penelope said, “but I shall make do with

him, if I must.”

George grinned and gripped his jacket lapels with both hands,

ambling alongside her to their house. He looked near to whistling,

24 CLAUDIA DAIN

silly old fool. “I’m relieved to hear it. I had not liked to think I’d

misread you as badly as all that. It’s Edenham you fancy. Am

I right?”

“He’s a duke, George. Of course I fancy him. Don’t think

yourself as wise as all that.”

“Oh, not as all that,” George said with a grin. “But wise

enough, surely.”

And then he did begin to whistle.

6

THE Marquis of Iveston walked into the music room of Hyde

House whistling. Everything was just as it should be. Blakes was

married to Louisa, the woman he’d trotted after throughout the

salons of London for two years, and Cranleigh was married to

Amelia, the woman he’d either kissed or avoided for the past two

years, depending on his mood of the day. All good and well,

things settled as they ought to have been two years ago when his

brothers had first set eyes on the women of their hearts, but which

hadn’t been settled easily at all, and certainly not quickly, which

had made a bloody mess of everything.

Still, spilt milk and all that. Things were as they were and

were well settled now. That was all that mattered, all that should

matter. Indeed, just because he had spent the past two years very

nearly hiding in his house, trying to avoid Amelia, who he was

quite certain had expected to marry
him
, well, why shouldn’t

he whistle? He was free now to go about Town as much as he

liked.

He didn’t like to all that much, truth be told, but he liked it

more than he had let on. He’d had to protect Cranleigh, hadn’t

he? Of course he had. It wouldn’t have done at all for him to have

somehow wound up being leg-shackled to Amelia. And he could

have done. Men found themselves married at alarming rates,

How to Daz zle a Duke

25

truly alarming. A man had to be quite on his best game to avoid

the net.

Iveston, with quite justified pride, was always on his best

game.

Two brothers married within the month and he still free. It

was a good day, quite worthy of a hearty whistle. His mother

must be satisfied now; two sons married to very respectable

women. She could and should nearly forget that her eldest and

Hyde’s heir was still running free upon the earth.

Yes, that is how he thought of himself, first and always, as

Hyde’s heir. What else? It was his duty, his birthright, his place

in the scheme of the things. He didn’t quite know if he liked his

place or not. Hadn’t given it any thought, actually, as there was

nothing to be done about it.

There were worse things, certainly.

He could be married, for one.

Iveston chuckled under his breath and whistled a tune he’d

heard just that morning from a street vendor on Piccadilly, just

beyond his window glass. Jaunty little tune. He quite liked it.

Suited his mood to perfection.

“What are you so cheerful about?” Cranleigh said, coming

upon him, some parcel shoved under his arm.

“I’m cheerful for the same reason you’re not. I’m not mar

ried. You are,” Iveston said, and then he laughed, quite fully in

his younger brother’s face. Cranleigh, not the most cordial of

men, did not laugh with him. Well, Iveston hadn’t truly expected

him to.

Cranleigh, as second born of Hyde’s fi ve living sons, was not

often of a cheerful bent. Probably a direct result of being second

born and, thereby, feeling some ill-placed notion that he had to

protect and support Iveston in every blessed thing. It was quite

nice of him, naturally, but entirely unnecessary. Iveston required

26 CLAUDIA DAIN

no support and no protection, though Cranleigh, a bit of a dockside dog, would hardly have agreed, not that Iveston was at all

inclined to put it up for a vote.

“Ridiculous,” Cranleigh snarled under his breath, a smile half

tugging at his mouth. “You’ve got it entirely wrong, Iveston. I am

merely out of sorts because I am on my way to Dalby House.

Delivering a gift of sorts to Lady Dalby. Which would put anyone

of any sense into an ill temper.”

“A gift?” Iveston said, sitting himself in front of the pianoforte

and beginning to play. “How very unlike you. Whatever for?”

Cranleigh grimaced fractionally and sat down on a small

chair opposite the pianoforte, the parcel balanced on his right

knee. “It seems I must, Iveston. Blakes gave her something, some

bit of expensive frippery in thanks for getting hold of Louisa.

What can I do but the same? It’s perfectly obvious that Sophia

had a hand in managing to direct Amelia in my direction, which

is what Amelia states emphatically even when I expressly forbid

her from talking about Sophia.”

“She doesn’t sound obedient or compliant in the least, Cran

leigh,” Iveston interrupted. “I do begin to wonder what you see

in your lovely wife.”

Cranleigh’s ice blue eyes shone in the pale light of the music

room. “Let’s keep it a mystery, shall we? Lock your eyes upon

your own wife, Iveston.”

“Haven’t got one,” Iveston said with a flourish of the keys, the

light notes rising to the impressive height of the room. “Hence,

my innate good cheer, rising up to enchant all near me.”

“Oh, yes, I’m enchanted,” Cranleigh said sarcastically, mov

ing the bundle to his left knee. “But, as I was saying, as Blakes

has set the precedent, I feel I must match him, and so it’s to Dalby

House, gift in hand. She’ll likely grab it out of my hands before

I can explain myself,” he grumbled.

“Hardly likely as I’m perfectly certain that Sophia Dalby has

How to Daz zle a Duke

27

been the recipient of many gifts and is therefore quite adept at

the protocol in receiving them. You shall be unscathed, Cran

leigh, have no fear. But what did you get her?”

“Something I picked up whilst in China.”

“Didn’t Blakes give her some porcelain from China?”

“He might have done,” Cranleigh said casually, tapping the

parcel.

“And you are giving her . . . something infi nitely fi ner?”

Iveston guessed, his fingers moving over the keys effortlessly. He

liked to play the pianoforte; music had entertained him during

his long hours hiding in the house.

“Perhaps not infinitely,” Cranleigh said with a smirk, “but it

is a fine piece. I shan’t be outdone by Blakes. His marrying Lou

isa was no better an acquisition than my marrying Amy.”

“And the porcelains will prove that,” Iveston said with a smile.

“Does Amelia know?”

“Know? She helped me choose the item.”