Lord Love a Duke (12 page)

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Authors: Renee Reynolds

Tags: #comedy, #historical fiction, #romantic comedy, #england, #historical romance, #london, #regency, #peerage, #english romance

BOOK: Lord Love a Duke
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Juliet nodded her agreement with the
beginnings of tears in her eyes. She blinked them away furiously
before flashing a smile to the group. At the arrival of her parents
she moved to Marcus' left side, blocking his injury from the
effusions of her parents as they greeted their son. With the danger
of embraces past, she moved nearer the captain, grabbing his hand
tightly.

“I know there is a story to be told, but I
will wait for Marcus to tell it,” she whispered, causing the
captain to lean in close to hear her words. “Just know that you
will have the appreciation of our family for your role, however
great or small, in bringing Marcus home. You are heartily thanked,
Captain Hughes.” She squeezed his hand before stepping back to a
proper distance as she shared a smile with the military man.

Jonas watched the exchange with curiosity
and some undefinable pique. He was at a loss as to why the unheard
exchange left him feeling so annoyed so he vowed simply to forget
it. Stepping back to the boisterous group, he announced tea and a
light treat would be served in the drawing room. Rather than follow
the happy family members, he turned on his heel and went back
outside.

All this was watched with eagle-eyed
precision by the Countess of Ashford. While happy to see her nephew
returned seemingly safe from the continent, she was reminded that
she came to Sussex for the entertainment that a house party of
young people was sure to afford. Based on the stolen glances and
pretty blushes, she was delighted to find she would be quite
thoroughly entertained during her stay.

Chapter Nineteen
I see you stand like greyhounds in the
slips, straining upon the start. The game's afoot . . .
William Shakespeare, King Henry V, Act 3,
Scene 1

All the guests, both invited and not, were
present and accounted for in the drawing room after an informal and
boisterous dinner. Small groups were clustered and scattered about
the room as personalities emerged and preferences became known.
While Juliet and her family still huddled around the returned son
and his comrade, Major Quinn and Captain Hughes, the Duke was
pleased to note his sister dutifully making her rounds, acquainting
herself with each gentleman despite her avowed refusal to find a
suitor.
If only she could be like Lady Philippa
, he thought
as he watched the Earl of Dartmouth's sister also tour the room in
effort to solicit appreciative looks and comments. Much could be
learned about stalking a husband just by watching that persistent
and determined lady, although he was supremely happy Miranda lacked
Lady Philippa's undercurrent of malice and ire.

Jonas leaned back in his Chippendale chaise
and caught the eye of the Countess of Ashford. His nod of
acknowledgment was followed by a summons from her fan. He rose and
obeyed her implicit command to join her on the settle near the edge
of the room.

“Your Grace,” she began smoothly but
immediately stopped, a peculiar look crossing her face. “I cannot
believe I am addressing the young scamp Jonas Leighton as 'Your
Grace.' It seems like only yesterday you and my nephews were in
leading strings. I suppose you are at last settled in to your new
duties?” she queried.

“Please call me whatever you wish, my lady.
There is no need for ceremony between us. To answer your question,
my comfort level with my new duties varies, sometimes several times
during one day. I am unsure if I will ever be truly 'settled,' as
you put it.”

“Fustian, Dorset!” she replied, wasting no
time taking him to task nor choosing to use a more familiar name.
“You were born to be a Duke and were raised by two of the most
august and loving parents in the realm. Even your behavior as a
child was more refined than the other rapscallions with whom you
kept company, especially my nephews. For my tastes you have always
been a touch too solemn and controlled, but it has no doubt served
you well in your transition from son to head of the family.”

The Duke flushed from the compliment and the
critique. He had often been accused of being too rigid and sober
and had developed a growing sensitivity to the labels. “I agree I
was blessed with ideal parents, but I think even they would dispute
your notion of my uninterrupted exemplary behavior.”

“I did not say you have always been the
model of perfection, but you must admit that even the stories of
your youthful carousing and inebriation at school were more tame
than most.” The Countess tapped his arm with her folded fan. She
paused to lean in closer to keep her conversation limited to their
ears only. “I trust that since you have been Duke for nigh on two
years that you are now in need of a wife. Tell me your
candidates.”

Jonas bolted upright in his seat, nearly
upsetting the perch held by Lady Ashford. “I assure you, madam,
that I am neither in want nor need,” he sputtered. He was prevented
from further discourse by the rap of her fan on his knee and the
subsequent pain it caused.

“Bah! If I know you, and I believe I do, you
have 'wife' scribbled on your list of things to check off to be a
'proper' Duke. You know your duty and obligations. You were raised
to know them! I have no doubt you have spent this last year working
through your list; surely you are near to needing to make a check
in the column next to 'obtain wife.'”

Jonas flushed slightly from a combination of
irritation and resignation. The Countess was correct on all counts,
much to his dismay. He had a list, although it was strictly kept in
his mind, and he had come to the point of thinking it might be time
to look for a wife. He was loath to admit such to anyone,
especially a matchmaking female, no matter how much he loved her as
if she was his own relation. His gaze swept the room in an effort
to seize on a change of subject when he noticed the close situation
of Lady Juliet and Captain Hughes. This was the second time today
he had seen them so situated and he began to wonder if they had a
longer-held association, and more than just the connection of
Juliet's brother in common. He lost the thread of his conversation
with Lady Ashford and was quiet for too long. His new preoccupation
drew her discerning attention. She followed his gaze to her niece
and gave a slight smile of understanding.

“Do you know the captain, Dorset?” she
queried.

Jonas brought his assiduity back to the
Countess with a start. How long had he been staring at the pair
across the room? “I have just made his acquaintance today, my
lady.”

Lady Ashford looked from Juliet to the Duke
and raised a single brow as his gaze traveled back to Juliet and
the captain. “I have just met him as well. Evidently he serves with
Marcus. They have been on the continent all this time, and most
recently he performed some sort of rescue or service of some nature
for my nephew. The family has taken him in as one of their own.”
She paused to consider her next words, her eyes narrowing to focus
on the Duke's face to gauge his reaction. “Juliet especially seems
quite appreciative of whatever that act entailed. I am sure I will
hear the details at some point, but it is obvious that he and
Juliet have found topics enough to keep them in a comfortable
coze.”

The Countess watched Jonas' eyes flash icily
and his mouth tighten almost imperceptibly. The signs were small
but they were there. The Duke was forming an attachment to Juliet.
After observing her niece, she was fairly sure this regard was not
one-sided. She was going to enjoy her part in helping to promote
this connection on both sides.

Jonas brought his attention back to the
Countess in time to see a look of subtle reckoning before she
schooled her features. “They do seem comfortable in each other's
company. It is no difficulty to converse with Lady Juliet. She has
a manner that puts one at ease.”

“And she is not so hard to look on, either,”
joked the Countess. “Most men are willing to converse with a female
when she looks like Juliet.”

Jonas snapped his attention back fully on
his partner. “True, but she is much more than just a beautiful
face. She is very intelligent and has a quick wit. Her silvery eyes
sparkle and come alive when she finds a topic about which she is
passionate. She even speaks four languages. What man would not care
to converse --” Jonas realized Lady Juliet's aunt was studying him
with deliberation now, listening to his avid defense and
description of her niece. He prayed he had not revealed too much
with his unguarded speech. “converse with her,” he finished
belatedly.

The Countess smiled knowingly but did not
pursue his words to her advantage. She patted Jonas lightly on the
arm with her fan. “So tell me of the party plans for tomorrow. Will
I be entertained?” They continued to talk, as did the rest of the
groups around the room, until such time as some began making for
their beds. The evening wound down as it had begun, with much good
humor and resolve to meet likewise again on the morrow.

Chapter Twenty
With mirth in funeral and with dirge in
marriage . . .
William Shakespeare, Hamlet, Act 1, Scene
2

Lady Juliet made her way downstairs the next
morning, following the enticing smells to the dining room. She
joined her parents and brothers around one end of the large the
table.

“This is just like breaking our fast at
home, is it not?” she voiced the question to her mother.
La
dy Lansdowne
glanced around their end of
the table and smiled. Her sons, both six and twenty, both
possessing the dark hair and gray eyes so indicative of the Quinn
Family, yet their faces were their own. Although the twins were
thought identical at birth, their facial characteristics had
changed as they aged. Charles, the elder, had a wider smile and
dimples. Marcus had a harder countenance and a cleft in his chin,
and looked every inch the military officer.

“It is, although perhaps we have not done so
for some years, save at Christmas or Easter, when all our flock
gathers home under our roof.” She reached over and placed her hand
on the Marquis. “It is good to be all together, and safe.”

“I confess it is a strange sight not to see
the old Duke heading this party. I can't say I'm used to Jonas
being the head of his family yet. These past two years have made
him so serious and stodgy, nothing like the carefree Jonas.” Her
brother, Charles, the elder of the twins and thereby Earl of
Bristol, voiced his opinion between bites of shirred eggs. “It's
not been too many years since Oxford, when we all lived like we
hadn't a care in the world.”

“That's because you did not have any cares,”
offered his younger-by-minutes brother Marcus. “You still play at
being an adult, Charles. Witness what happens when real life is
suddenly thrust on you. Jonas was prepared; his father saw to that.
Our Father has tried to impress the same on you but be thankful you
are not required to step up in the same manner as our friend,” he
chastised. “Still, to be the head of your family, responsible for
the care of your mother and the successful marriage of your sister,
manager of four estates, and seated in the House of Lords – I do
not envy him at all.”

Juliet listened to the exchange with
interest and opinion. “He seems to take his responsibilities quite
seriously, even organizing this party specifically to help marry
off Miranda, not that I approve of that in the least.” She paused
to cast a glare at her older brother. “Still, he seems to be the
most serious member of the LOO now, and more likely a better
influence on you all as a result.”

“I really wish you would not refer to your
brother and his friends by that silly title, Juliet. It gives them
all an air of irresponsibility, of too much revelry.” Her mother
sniffed her disapproval of the sobriquet.

“I only refer to them as such because they
are
too full of revelry – and devilry and
debauchery. They earned that title, mama. It was not bestowed out
of generosity but out of necessity. And by Lady Miranda, no less. I
have found that most gentlemen think we ladies are unaware of male
activities and pursuits, and the resultant reputations, but
we know
.”

Bristol broke off a piece of almond scone
and threw it at her, causing Juliet to block the throw with her
hand and stick out her tongue in retaliation. At the raised
eyebrows of the footman, Juliet smiled smugly and pointed her fork
at the food projectile now sitting in the middle of the table. “I
rest my case with the evidence of the schoolroom behavior of my
'older and wiser' brother.”

Their good-natured argument ended as more
guests arrived for breakfast. The young Duke of the earlier
conversation entered as well, taking his customary place at the
head of the table after piling his plate with his breakfast
choices. “I trust everyone slept well,” he offered. A general
affirmative consensus was shared around the table as quiet
conversation broke out in clusters among seat neighbors. The Duke
himself raised his paper and read as he ate, his usual morning
routine.

Juliet's aunt, Countess Ashford, swept into
the room on the arms of Viscount Melville and Mr. Burke, her silver
hair still thick and piled magnificently high on her head. Somehow
the grande dame managed to wear an expression that was both haughty
and playful as the gentlemen seated her, one leaving to fetch her a
plate of food, the other her cup of tea. Miranda and her mother
soon followed, with the remainder of the guests trickling in at
their leisure.

“So, tell me, Dorset, what are your plans
for the remainder of this house party? What is to be the plan of
action?” The Countess minced no words in her effort to discover any
agendas in which she might participate. The Duke dropped his paper
and smiled at the Countess.

“Today I believe my mother has arranged lawn
games and refreshments on the rear terrace. As for the remainder, I
have no nefarious plans, nor truly any agenda to fulfill. It was
becoming too hot to stay in Town, and my family and friends simply
needed a change in scenery for the summer.”

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