Redemption of the Duke (5 page)

She nodded and peered back to the crowded ballroom, where Miss Cooper still sat, surrounded
by older ladies and plain-faced sad girls.

“I’m glad you finally told me everything, Adam. It has been a black cloud hovering
around you. Maybe now it will begin to lessen its hold on you.”

“Three men are dead because of me, Aunt. I don’t think that’s something you leave
in the past, like forgetting a friend’s birthday.”

She shrugged. “In my long life, there have been many tragedies I thought I would never
get past, but in the end, our nature is such that the mind allows forgetfulness, that
we might find happiness again.”

He shrugged, unconvinced. “The death of a spouse must surely be one of those events.
I know you loved Lord Duncan.”

“Yet that is a sadness that women know most of us will eventually endure. But, Adam,
I bore five babies that were either dead at birth or died within hours.”

Shocked, he gazed down at her with wide eyes. “Aunt Theodosia, I am so sorry. I never
knew.”

“You were very young, and such things weren’t discussed. But I found happiness again,
Adam, and you will, too.”

He didn’t say anything, because he couldn’t believe that. But helping Miss Cooper
would go a long way toward restoring some of his equanimity. “So you will help me?”

“Of course I will. She looks like a fine young lady. Explain your plan.”

And so he did.

She tapped him with her fan again. “Then I’m off. But I’ll choose the moment I wish
to approach her, so do not rush me.”

He smiled. “I trust you.”

She rejoined her friends and Adam found himself the recipient of welcoming smiles
from mamas and their daughters. Not so much the fathers—until their wives elbowed
them. He didn’t blame them. He wouldn’t want a man with his past courting his sister.

He had vowed to dance as much as he could to raise the spirits of young ladies—but
it also had the side effect of unsettling Miss Cooper. She seemed to think he might
embarrass her by asking her to dance, and although he knew it a bad idea, he wished
he could. He wondered how she would feel in his arms, imagined her to be light on
her feet, if her stride escaping him the other day was any way to judge. He hadn’t
bothered to catch up with her, because it was so enjoyable to watch the swish of her
skirts from behind, and to realize those bulky skirts subtly disguised her as much
as that severe hair. Where at first he’d thought her Cooper’s elder sister, he’d since
changed his mind.

“So you’re finally away from the skirts of your family.”

Shenstone’s voice was soft and wry near Adam’s ear, and he turned to find his oldest
friend standing close, arms crossed over his chest, expression cynical and sardonic
and vastly amused.

For a moment, Adam felt like time had not passed, that the two of them still ruled
the underworld of London, where there were no rules.

But six years ago, Adam had broken away from his family, believing he had to support
himself before that day when his brother inherited the title and showed Adam exactly
what he thought of his “half” brother. Instead, Adam had made terrible mistakes, become
the duke, and was now trying to be a different person.

He clasped Shenstone’s hand firmly, and they grinned at each other. “Good to see you,
old man,” Adam said.

“Rothford.” Shenstone looked him over. “I never thought I would call
you
that. Does the mantle of near royalty rest so heavy on your shoulders that you could
not come among your lesser friends?”

“You know that’s not true.”

“Do I?” his friend said lightly, but his eyes showed no amusement. “I’ve heard you’ve
been back as long as six months.”

Adam blinked at him a moment. “I hadn’t realized so much time had passed. I had pressing
business to finish up after resigning my commission, and was in the North for some
time.” Chasing a woman—how Shenstone would laugh at that, especially since it wasn’t
for the usual reasons one needed a woman.

“I do understand that things have changed for you,” Shenstone admitted, sounding almost
reluctant. “You were never bred for the ducal ‘honor,’ and I imagine there might be
a lot to discover.”

Adam shrugged. “My father always believed in hiring the best men of business, including
his steward, bailiffs, and land agents. They’re still doing their work, leaving me
with little to do to assist.”

“You make that sound like a bad thing.”

It was. Adam still had yet to find a way to be a part of his dukedom. He didn’t want
to simply benefit from the money and prestige. There had to be something else for
him to do. He’d gone into the army looking for a purpose, and now that he’d had to
give that up . . . well, he had yet to find a true substitute.

Except, of course, for his obsession with Miss Cooper. He forced himself not to glance
in her direction. Nothing got by Shenstone, and Adam wasn’t about to betray his interest—his
purely professional and helpful interest.

“Together, we can find much to occupy your time,” Shenstone reminded him. “In fact,
tonight there is a particular hell that needs our attention.”

Adam remembered the smoke of the dark rooms, the vivid décor, the roulette and dice
tables—and the women. There’d been times, in his spiting of his father, that he’d
disappeared into one for several days, and the memories were still not all present.

But now he was the face of his family, with duties to uphold, women to protect and
guide, including his unmarried sister. He didn’t want Sophia married to anyone like
himself—or Shenstone. She deserved an honorable, educated, respectable man, who hadn’t
squandered parts of his life in the worst sorts of behaviors. And he would see that
happen.

“I don’t know when I’ll next be able to visit our old haunts,” Adam said.

“The Crown weighs heavy upon your brow?”

Adam chuckled, but Shenstone’s smile was cool.

“The fate of my sister concerns me, the honor of my family. I seem to have to be a
different sort of man now.” India and Afghanistan had begun the transformation, but
how could he explain that to Shenstone, whose only hardship had been getting ejected
from Oxford, to his father’s displeasure? “But just because the gaming hells cannot
appeal to me anymore does not mean I’m against joining you at our club or the fencing
academy.”

“At White’s? With the old men?”

“They’re not all old,” Adam said quietly.

“Next you’ll be saying you’re looking for a wife.”

“Eventually I’ll have to, shan’t I? The heir, and all that.”

“You’re
choosing
this, Chamberlin—Rothford,” Shenstone corrected himself. “Remember sweet Louisa,
the actress you used to consort with?”

He did, and the memories were uncomfortably erotic. “She’s in the past now.”

“I refuse to allow you to do this to yourself,” Shenstone insisted.

Adam eyed him. “I don’t believe you have a choice.”

“We’ll see.”

Chapter 5

F
aith forced herself to relax when she did not see the Duke of Rothford. She saw his
sister, sister-in-law, and mother, but if he was around, he was remaining in the card
room with the other gentlemen. So as she watched Adelia and performed her duties as
occasional sounding board and rest partner—the young woman never liked to be alone!—Faith
also studied the dancers, especially enjoying the gowns of the women. Maybe she should
make a study of fashion as part of her quest to become a chaperone . . .

And then, from across the room, she saw a face from her past. And he was watching
her, too.

Timothy Gilpin, once her childhood friend, and then more.

She had come to him when her brother had died, when they were selling the paintings
off the wall and poverty beckoned. She’d asked him if he would mind if she requested
a letter of reference from his father, a respected baron whose library she’d spent
hours in every day.

But Timothy, then engaged to be married, had thought her request would call attention
to their past relationship. Faith had bowed to his wishes, owing him loyalty since
he’d kept secret their relationship. But without references, she’d been unable to
secure a position a gentlewoman would aspire to.

Did Timothy wonder where she’d gone when she’d left their village? Did he suspect
the lengths she had to go to, in order to survive?

Now he was staring at her a bit wide-eyed, his face its usual paleness beneath his
shock of red hair. And then he inclined his head toward her, and she did the same.
He seemed to take that as permission to approach. After everything they’d once meant
to each other, she wasn’t sure what she felt upon facing him again, except wariness.

She rose to meet him, giving him a faint smile. “Good evening, Mr. Gilpin.”

“And to you, Miss Cooper.” He glanced around. “I had not thought to see you in London.”

At such an exclusive ball,
were obviously his unspoken thoughts.

“I am employed by Lord Warburton as a companion to his daughter.”

“Ah, I see.”

They’d once been close friends, and to see now by his smile that he was conscious
of his superior station as the heir to a barony, made her sad.

When the silence stretched out, she said, “I remember that you were engaged.”

“And I did marry.”

“Is your wife in attendance?”

“She is not,” he said swiftly, lowering his brows.

As if he wanted to make sure Faith didn’t meet her. Very well, she understood that.

Or did he know what Faith had had to do to survive after her brother’s death?

No, how could he? She’d moved to another parish, and her mother would certainly never
tell people.

“Well, please give her my congratulations,” Faith said.

Timothy nodded. “My thanks. A good evening to you, Miss Cooper.”

He moved away, and she sat down, feeling a mixture of several emotions, but the predominant
one being relief. What if she’d had to marry that man?

Oh, but in his youth, he’d been a fine companion, eager to run about the village exploring
frog ponds and collecting unusual pebbles. They’d both loved to read, and the hours
in his family library were some of her more precious memories.

And then in their adolescence, they’d begun to see each other as a man and a woman.
Their first kiss had almost been accidental, both of them bent over a particular book
in the library, then practically bumping heads as they turned to discuss it. She wasn’t
even certain which of them kissed the other first. After that, they were different
with each other, aware of feeling an attraction, desperate to be alone to talk, hold
hands, and steal more kisses.

It wasn’t much later that the kisses became more.

“Miss Cooper?”

She blinked and brought herself back to the present. Before her stood a tiny elderly
woman, and when Faith rose to her feet, the woman barely came up to her chin. She
wore an empire-waist gown from another era, plenty of necklaces that jingled together
with her slight tremor, and a turban wrapped about her head. She now studied Faith
through a monocle that dangled from a jeweled chain.

“Good evening, ma’am,” Faith said, curtsying. “Have we met?”

“No, we have not, young lady, and I decided to remedy that. I was looking for a place
to sit and someone pointed out the open chair next to you.”

Someone?
she thought, but didn’t question her.

“I am Lady Duncan. Do sit beside me and keep me company.”

Faith waited until the lady sat down slowly, using her cane, before she took her own
seat.

Sighing as she stretched out one leg, Lady Duncan said, “Ah, that is better. These
sorts of events are such a crush, and I find it difficult to stand so much. People
talk over my head, of course, and it grows most tiresome asking them to repeat themselves
with all this loud music. You speak right into my good ear, Miss Cooper, and we’ll
get along famously.”

Faith smiled at her. “May I fetch you a drink, my lady?”

“Oh, no, then I’ll have to be in the ladies’ retiring room all the time.”

Faith blinked and hid a snort of laughter at such refreshing honesty.

“Eh, I look at all these foolish young girls, pining away for a dance, and I feel
sorry for them.”

“Why, ma’am?”

“Today’s young man is too interested in himself, flitting about from his horse racing
to his gambling to his pugilism. They don’t wish to find a nice wife—they want to
enjoy themselves until they’re too old to make a girl a good husband.”

Faith chuckled.

“Ah, but I am hurting your feelings, Miss Cooper. You are unmarried, and perhaps you
wish it were not so.”

“I am a realist, my lady. My features did not attract a young man in my youth, and
without a dowry, I had to work for my living. No young man here would be interested
in a lady’s companion.”

“Your youth? Are you an ancient, then?”

Faith looked around at all the delicate young women. “Sometimes I feel it.”

“Do tell me your age.”

“Twenty and five, my lady.”

“Pshaw, I did not marry Lord Duncan until near thirty. I turned down seven proposals
before him, and a few after.”

“Seven proposals?” Faith exclaimed, delighted.

“A woman must be careful to find the man who will be indulgent to all of her activities.
And my activities have always gone far beyond morning calls and the opera.”

“And what activities do you pursue, my lady?” Faith asked.

“Women’s rights!” Lady Duncan clapped her hands together, drawing several startled
looks. “Did you read Mary Wollstonecraft’s book,
A Vindication of the Rights of Woman
?”

“Yes, ma’am, I did. A fascinating study about women’s education and upbringing limiting
our expectations, not our gender.”

Lady Duncan patted her knee. “I knew I was going to like you!”

They conversed for the next half hour, their topics ranging from women’s rights to
industrialization’s effect on landowners to the latest novel. Faith forgot about the
party, her duties, and just enjoyed the eccentric old lady’s forward-thinking views
and clever responses.

“Oh, it is difficult to have such conversations at home,” Lady Duncan said, sighing
heavily.

“I feel the same way, ma’am.”

“There are too many silly women in your house, too?”

They shared grins.

“My dear, I think you should come accept a position with me.”

Faith’s smile died and she stared into the old woman’s bright eyes. “Oh, ma’am, you
are kind, but—”

“Do not think I’m being impulsive. Although I will not tell my family this,” and she
leaned closer, “but it is getting more difficult to write all the letters and speeches
required of me. My hand tires far too swiftly these days, as do my eyes. Cursed old
age, yet I am glad to still be suffering through it, instead of in the ground. I am
not so anxious to join my late husband yet.”

“You’ve made a generous offer, Lady Duncan, and I am flattered, but I certainly cannot
leave my charge in the middle of the Season.”

“And why not? Are you a poor relation?”

Faith grinned. “No, ma’am, I have no attachment except that I’ve given my word.”

“Are you happy there?”

She hesitated, and then said nothing.

“So you are not happy, and from the looks of the Warburton girl, I imagine she’s not
good company for a mind like yours.”

Faith blushed. “That is a generous compliment, ma’am, but I am in training—of sorts.”

“In training? Do explain.”

“I wish to become a trusted chaperone, not simply a companion. Surely it will be best
if I remain with a young lady to learn more of what I need to know.”

“I like a girl with plans. A chaperone first and foremost needs to understand
Society,
and I can teach you everything you need to know. Leave it to me, young Miss Cooper.
I will see to our mutual happiness.”

She started to rise with the aid of her cane, and when Faith jumped up to take her
elbow, Lady Duncan peered up at her.

“One thing you can learn—unless I ask for help, I do not need you to offer it.”

Faith quickly pulled her hand away. “Forgive me, ma’am.”

“Of course I do. You act with sweet kindness. Until we meet again.”

She limped away, crossing the middle of the dance floor, not even looking both ways.
People cleared a path, even if they had to bump into each other in the middle of the
waltz.

Faith covered her mouth to hide her laughter. She slowly sank back into her chair,
dazed and hopeful, but she was used to not expecting much. And then she had a thought—she
hadn’t mentioned her employer’s name. How had Lady Duncan known it?

Oh, whoever had pointed out Faith must have told her.

“Miss Cooper, please come with me to the ladies’ retiring room,” Adelia called, moving
past Faith’s chair without even stopping.

Faith rose up, trying not to sigh.

And trying to remind herself that for all she knew, Lady Duncan would entirely forget
their conversation by the next morning.

B
ut instead of forgetting the conversation, Lady Duncan arrived midmorning, before
the Warburton ladies had even gone shopping, let alone were expecting visitors. Faith
heard about her arrival while she was working on Adelia’s hair.

Lady Warburton came into the room, wearing a pinched frown. “We have a visitor, Adelia,
the Countess of Duncan. Do hurry preparing her hair, Miss Cooper.”

Faith’s hands had slowed to a stop on hearing the name of their visitor, but she quickly
pinned up the last curls, leaving a few to dangle artfully near Adelia’s ears. Her
pulse was fluttering with excitement, even as she told herself to calm down.

The young woman frowned, but her mother snapped, “It will have to do. Ladies? The
countess is waiting.”

But to their surprise, Lady Duncan was not in the drawing room, where the butler had
left her. Faith let out her breath, not believing that she’d come all this way just
to change her mind.

And then they heard voices, and followed the sound downstairs to Lord Warburton’s
study.

Lady Duncan was seated before his desk, hands clasped on her cane. She turned her
head and smiled. “Ah, your lovely family. Do introduce me, Warburton.”

Standing up, he cleared his throat, giving his wife a frown as he said, “Lady Duncan,
may I introduce my wife, Lady Warburton, and our daughter, Miss Adelia Warburton.
And of course, you tell me you’ve already met Miss Cooper,” he added coolly.

Faith bit her lip and curtsied with the other ladies.

“I did not realize you had met my daughter’s companion, Lady Duncan,” Lady Warburton
said.

“Oh, yes, just last night at the ball. We had a lovely conversation. I was just telling
your husband that I wish to hire her away to work for me.”

The stark silence was only broken by Lord Warburton’s harrumph. Lady Warburton’s eyes
were narrowed as she focused on Faith.

“Miss Cooper, you wish to leave us?”

“Oh, no,” Lady Duncan interrupted. “She was quite loyal. But I insisted. I have quite
the connections at the registry office. I have already alerted them to expect you,
and to recommend their best companion and even a lady’s maid, if you’d like.”

Faith tried not to flinch. She did not want her employers to believe she had complained
about the amount of work she’d been given.

“They’ll even grant you the same wage price they guarantee to me, since I have hired
so many servants.”

The Warburtons exchanged a meaningful glance.

“But I’ve grown quite attached to Miss Cooper,” Adelia said stubbornly.

“And I can understand why, my dear,” answered the old lady. “But Miss Cooper is an
ardent believer in women’s rights, and I have use for such a mind.”

“Women’s rights?” Lord Warburton said, his nostrils flaring.

Oh, Lady Duncan was playing this perfectly, Faith thought with admiration.