Mary Blayney - [Pennistan 03] (13 page)

He handed the book to Garrett, who accepted it and put it in his lap.

“How unlike you, Duke. Is she very beautiful?”

“She is the most aggravating beauty I have ever met.” Meryon sighed.

“Then be prepared to offend her a dozen other times or accept the truth that you are done with grief and the wanton urges of man are alive in you once again.”

“God help me, if you do not stop pontificating I will ban you from the house, you idiot.” Meryon could not help laughing, which took all the threat from his words.

“That’s Reverend Idiot, Your Grace.”

I
T’S A COMMAND PERFORMANCE
, signora!”

“No, it is not, Tina. This is for the Regent and his party. Nothing as formal as a command performance for the king.”

“Sit down, signora, and let me put your hair up. I want to use those jeweled clips you found.”

“No, no jewels in my hair tonight.” Elena shook her head even as she sat in front of the mirror. “I am not one of the dinner guests and do not want to appear to overstep myself. Just put it up. That will be enough for tonight.”

Tina did as directed and both were well pleased with the results. The topaz earrings complemented the deep green dress and the long white gloves were new and felt quite elegant. Elena decided to wear her black velvet
cloak, and by the time William called for her a little thrill of excitement had settled in her stomach.

“I am pleased to say that the prince has asked me to be your escort to the palace.” As he spoke, William handed her a posy of violets and sweet peas.

“Thank you, my lord.” She paused on the front steps and drew in a deep breath. “I love the smell of spring. Even here in London it is everywhere.”

William handed her into the carriage and she settled on the seat. As the coach lurched and began to roll down the street William explained that it would take a while to reach the palace.

“Yes, the Regent’s representative explained the procedure,” Elena said. “There will be a withdrawing room for my use. Signor Tinotti has gone ahead and will be waiting for me with a palace maid, and a meal is available should I be hungry. I will probably not be introduced before midnight.”

Elena rubbed her throat. “It is a great deal of nonsense for three songs, but one does not question a prince and, to be practical, if all goes well it is the perfect entrée to society that I need to make Mia a success.”

“Perhaps Prinny wants to impress
you
.”

“I hope not. He is the exact opposite of the type of man I would be interested in.”

“Do tell.” William leaned forward.

His curiosity was never-ending and amusing but she waved a hand at him, hoping he would drop the subject.

“Let me guess. Someone who has some wealth, is comfortable with his place in life, is ambitious and responsible
enough to improve his estate rather than play all day. Oh yes, and one who lives to the fullest.”

“Hmmm, that has some appeal, but you have left out the truly personal parts, which is just as well.”

“He must talk and listen as well. He must love to argue and love making up even more.”

“Oh, do be quiet. Are you going back for a language lesson with Mia?”

“Yes, thank you for suggesting it. She can hardly wait for the Metcalfes’ ball.” William slouched back on the cushions and raised his legs to the opposite seat. “Will you be nervous tonight without me there for support?”

“I’m never nervous.” She lied as much to herself as to her nephew. “I’ve appeared before almost every European royal, including Napoleon.” She raised the bouquet and enjoyed the way the scent of the flowers replaced the scent of horse.

“No nerves. Good, because there is something I have to tell you.”

Before she could ask him to wait until after her performance, he blurted it out.

“The Duke of Bendas is with the party tonight.”

“Bendas is there?”

“Yes. I do not know how long he will stay. This affair will last until morning and he is not one for late hours these days.”

“It really does not matter. He is the least of those present that I would like to impress, and he no longer can influence what I choose to sing.” She looked out the window, then down at the bouquet and picked at one of the violets
that had come loose. She was not going to ask if the Duke of Meryon would be there.

“The Duke of Meryon is on the guest list too.”

“Don’t sound so pleased,” she snapped and did not apologize. He knew as well as she did that she would have to explain that dratted handkerchief at the first opportunity. “This is not some private circus for your entertainment.”

“I’m sorry. I did not know you were at odds with him.”

“We barely know each other.” That was God’s honest truth, she thought.

“Do not find his bad side, Elena. He has a thirst for justice where Grandfather is concerned. I told you before, he is fiercely protective of his interests.”

“What happened between them?”

“The duel that Rowlandson ridiculed in his cartoon. Meryon challenged him. It was Meryon’s young groom who was killed, accidentally.”

“Oh dear heaven, William. The poor boy.” She gripped her hands together. “What were they dueling over?”

“You will have to ask Meryon. It is only now that the ton realizes that Meryon was the other party.”

“Ask him? I will not. The question is, should I tell him that I am Bendas’s daughter?”

“No.” William spoke with conviction. “How many times must I tell you that he puts his family before everything else? If he knows, he may try to find a way to use that knowledge, and the rift between you and Bendas, to his advantage.”

“All right.” She drew a breath. “You are making him sound like a villain. I thought you liked him.”

“I do. Very much. But on this we are at odds. Grandfather was exonerated and, for the Bendasbrooks, the incident is over. You understand that I must do all I can to protect the dukedom.”

“What an awful position you are in, William.”

“Father more than me. One thing I promise you is that there will not be another Bendas-Meryon duel. I will not let it come to that ever again.”

“It does make the business about that handkerchief seem silly.”

“Because it is, Elena.” William’s attitude made it clear it was not something he wanted to discuss.

“Perhaps the Duke of Meryon will leave early as well.”

“Not unless he has a wish to irritate Prinny. No one, with the possible exception of those as old as Bendas, will leave before the Regent does.”

She played with the flowers, trying to improve their arrangement, and did not say anything.

“Will you be able to sing with both Bendas and Meryon there?”

“Of course.” She shrugged away his concern. “Singing is my great consolation, as riding is yours, William dear.”

He understood that comparison and they rode on in silence.

Her father and the Duke of Meryon. And most likely a dozen other dukes, including the royal dukes. Thank goodness titles had long ago ceased to impress her. Mutual hatred was something else entirely. It would be best if she avoided both Meryon and Bendas.

———

F
OR THE
D
UKE OF
M
ERYON
the trip to the palace took less than five minutes. In fact he could have reached it even more quickly on foot. The palace was brightly lit for the event, every window glowing.

Once inside Meryon knew that it would take an amazingly long time to work his way from the entrance to the banqueting room. And he knew better than to insult the Regent by arriving after he did. It was going to be a long evening.

His escort directed him down a passage. “Your Grace, the royal dukes will be in attendance as well as one hundred guests. Many of them are single women, both never married and widowed.”

Prinny was playing matchmaker? Meryon wondered if he was a consolation prize for the young ladies who did not catch the royal dukes’ eyes.

“I do believe there will be some dancing after dinner.”

Which translated into “do not plan to leave before dawn.”

Meryon estimated that approximately half the guests had arrived before he did and were lined up on either side of the red carpet that bisected the room. There were two long tables on either side of the carpet set for an elaborate meal, and a head table for the Regent and his personal guests.

Introduced to the master of ceremonies by his escort, Meryon was then announced formally to those already present. The crowd quieted at the thump of the master’s staff followed by, “His Grace, the Duke of Meryon.” The
master of ceremonies’ voice was wonderfully sonorous, reaching to the far ends of the room. His announcement was followed by bows and curtsies from the assembled and a buzz of welcome as conversation resumed.

Meryon made his way through the crowd, exchanging greetings. Most of this group was comfortable with the pomp and it would not keep them from having a good time. He saw Kyle and was halfway to his friend, who was talking with two fresh-faced women, when he spotted the Duke of Bendas.

The man was as old as dirt and tottered through the path the crowd made for him, leaning heavily on a stick. Ignoring the fact that everyone was standing, he demanded a chair be brought for him.

Meeting him in public was bound to happen, Meryon knew that, and he should have realized that Bendas would be invited this evening.

Meryon waited for Bendas to recognize him. The old man was no more than five feet away when he stopped and jerked back as though he had run into a brick wall.

“Good evening, Your Grace.” Meryon stepped into his path, pleased that the conventional greeting sounded anything but cordial.

“I heard you were back from Germany.” Bendas eyed him up and down as though finding fault with his attire.

Despite the fact that Bendas was misstating the obvious, the insulting perusal and the one sentence told Meryon something. Bendas was near blind. He was squinting his rheumy eyes and his neck was stuck out as though waiting for the executioner to strike.

Besides that, the old bastard kept track of where the
Duke of Meryon was, or had been, and could not remember that it was France and not Germany.

Meryon forced himself to relax his fist and nodded at the old duke’s mention of Europe.

“Speak up, man.” The duke raised his stick. “I cannot hear you.”

“Yes, I am returned from France as I think this will be a pivotal year in Parliament.”

“Humph” was all the old man said, which meant that Bendas either could not hear him or agreed but did not want to admit it.

“How is your sister?” He asked that with a sly grin that made Meryon fist his hand again.

“She is well.”

“Tell me her name.” The old duke raised his stick in a way that could only be construed as threatening.

Meryon reached out and casually pulled it from his weak grip. He leaned closer as he made to hand the stick back. As he wrapped Bendas’s hand around the head of his cane, he squeezed a little more tightly than was necessary and whispered, “Do not tempt me.”

Bendas took his stick and tried to stare Meryon down. Bendas looked away first.

“Two special acts before Parliament, Your Grace?” Meryon went on. “You must think the land is very valuable. What does your son say about the change to the entail?”

“None of your damn business.” Bendas looked around for rescue but none of the crowd listening so avidly wanted the confrontation to end.

Meryon turned toward two earls who were nearby.
“You should take a look at the parcel, Sanders; it’s close to your seat and you know how valuable that land has proved.”

“Stop your tongue, you arrogant—”

Before Bendas could truly insult Meryon, the orchestra sounded a chord and the master of ceremonies thumped the floor four times.

Everyone stopped mid-sentence, jostled for position, and turned to the door as the master announced: “His Royal Highness, the Prince of Wales!”

Meryon knew that Olivia would want to know every tiny detail of the food service. Despite her endless attempts to educate him, he could say not more than the food would have been quite tasty if it had been served warm. He settled for the dishes that were best at room temperature and feasted well.

He had arrived too late to move the place cards around and could only thank him when the Marquis Straemore told him that his wife had done the fiddling and they would dine together.

The Marchioness Straemore sat to his right, and the lady to his left was the widow of a duke, an older woman who was nothing less than flattered to be included. “What I should like to do most of all tonight is dance the waltz. Do you think they will play one? It is everywhere now but I have no idea what the Regent thinks of it.”

The marchioness made outrageous observations about the likelihood of the royals marrying any of the ladies present. Finally her husband removed her wineglass, as if that was the reason she had been so frank.

Before the marchioness could do any more than give
her husband a look of annoyance, the orchestra played the now familiar chord announcing the next part of the festivities.

“Peers of the realm and ladies and gentlemen.” The master of ceremonies’ commanding voice began, and in a moment the footmen stopped clearing and the master had the attention of the entire assemblage.

“Good evening once again. By His Highness’s request the lady singer Signora Elena Verano will entertain us with songs before the dancing portion of the evening begins.”