The Wild Duchess/The Willful Duchess (The Duchess Club Book 1) (18 page)

T
he track
at Kempton Park was new but already a popular spot for London’s upper classes to spend the day away from Town for sport and excitement. Lord and Lady Winters were there to shepherd the twins who were extremely eager to enjoy the escape and ensure that there were no more incidents to be kept from their parents. The Jaded were beginning to work more closely together to keep things in order for the younger set.

Even so, their excitement was contagious and Galen was struggling to play the dour chaperone.

“Can we bet on one of the horses, Uncle Galen?” Scarlett asked.

“I’m not sure it’s…” he began to speak and then had to stop as the impact of two identically sweet and imploring faces were turned toward him.

“Please, Uncle Galen!” they said in unison and he was forced to laugh.

“Very well. A small amount of money and if you are destroyed by an addiction to gaming, may you never tell Ashe who got you started.”

“Galen Hawke! What are you doing?” Haley was astonished. “It isn’t proper for them to gamble!”

“Why not? The queen has been known to place small wagers on the outcome of a race or two,” he said contritely. “Has she not?”

“Only when one of the horses is owned by the palace and comes directly from her stables,” Haley conceded somewhat. “Oh, very well. It’s a ridiculous argument. Ladies, you will lose your money and it will be a hard lesson learned.”

Starr nodded and Scarlett followed suit, though she was already eying the lineup to try to make her selections. “I’m going to walk over to the paddock there to see if I can’t get a better feel for them, to see if my instincts can detect which horse truly desires to win.”

“Very well. But don’t wander off from there. We’re going to see about seats in the viewing stands and I’ll send Galen to fetch you before the races begin.” Haley picked up the hem of her skirts. “Come with me, Starr. I’m hoping you’ll help me convince your uncle that we need to expand our library.”

Scarlett watched them go and then made her way across the yard to the paddock where the jockeys were warming up the horses by walking them about. She eyed the racing form she’d picked up on the way in and decided that since none of the animals was clearly telling her about their innermost secret wishes to be a champion, she would simply bet on the prettiest ones.

“Miss Blackwell?”

Scarlett turned to see Talon Rush standing ten paces away at the fence.

“How do you do this? I’m beginning to suspect you are some kind of wizard, Your Grace!”

“I told you. I pilfered Chesterton’s appointment book.”

“But this was not in his appointment book. Not to my knowledge!”

“Chesterton must have spies everywhere then. He assured me he thought you would be here. Sent me a note complaining of a headache and a mild cold and asked if I wished to make his apologies…again.”

She shook her head. “It is a conspiracy I am going to have to investigate.”

“By all means,” he said as he bowed to her with an extra flourish to make her laugh. “Are you thinking about placing a bet today?”

“I am. It is a hard lesson that I am in need of learning. I have never gambled but am told that once I suffer defeat, it will cure me of the impulse forever.”

“And if you win?”

“Then I will have to come up with another plan.”

“I see,” he said. “You’ll have to choose very carefully then.”

“I am going to choose the horses with the most beautiful manes, loveliest ears and brightest eyes.”

He had to blink to keep from laughing. “Good luck then, Miss Blackwell. It sounds like a very solid system of selection and I will simply stay out of your way.”

“Thank you, Your Grace.”

He stood with her as she made her notations, keeping a good eye on her choices but refraining from saying anything.

“Should I bet the same horses? As a show of support?” he teased.

“Don’t you dare! I would feel terrible if you lost and it would be entirely my fault.” She shook her head firmly. “I cannot live with the guilt.”

“But what if we win?”

“Then I’ll have encouraged you to vice! It’s a disaster either way, Your Grace.”

“All right. Instead of money, I’ll place another kind of wager. We can play truth or dare. If the horse loses, you can ask me anything you want and I will have to answer. If he wins, then I get to dare you to do something and you cannot refuse.”

“That sounds—very exciting. Very well, since you’ve already sworn to be honest with me, I will take this bet. But only on the first race. Even without money at stake, I’m certain I should be more cautious.”

“Agreed.”

“I have chosen ‘Star-crossed’ for the first race.”

“Because he’s the prettiest?”

“Because he has my sister’s name—or nearly her name, so it seems a good sentimental choice to make.”

They walked to the railing of the track as the horses were being put into position. He positioned himself to shield her from the jostling crowd and as the gun went off, Talon had to admit that he had never been so keen on the outcome of a race in his entire life.

Scarlett didn’t whoop or yell like so many of the more rustic elements in the crowd but there was no mistaking the thrill in her eyes and the avid way she leaned into the railing to experience the thundering drive of the horses and the excitement of the speed and danger of it all.

“Did he win?” she cried out when it was over.

“Alas, he did not.”

“Ah, truth then!” She tipped her head to one side, a habit he found endearing, and finally asked her question. “What has your experience been with love?”

“Oh, my! There’s a question for a man to be forced to answer!”

“It was your idea for the game, Your Grace. So let’s hear it.”

The easiest course was to lie or say something flattering and false but before he could consider a strategy, Talon Rush found himself speaking of things he never had before today.

“Well, I thought that I was knowledgeable enough on the topic, Miss Blackwell. But now, after meeting your family and you, I am rethinking it all.”

“How so?”

“I have no siblings, Miss Blackwell. I can’t remember a time when I was not expected to rely on myself and to be self-sufficient. I have vague memories of my mother and most of them revolve around brief inspections where I was brought in by a nanny for her to assess my growth or test my manners. I am struggling to recall a single instant where she embraced me or…even touched me. My father was an imposing figure. I admired him when I was small because I thought that he was just as a man should be—nothing out of place and never at a loss for what to say or do. But when my mother was dying, her lungs failing, he went hunting.”

“Oh.”

“He’d accepted the invitation weeks before and…a gentleman always keeps his commitments.” Talon’s voice was level, as if he spoke only of strangers or figures in a book. “I was eight.”

“I am so sorry! What a horrible experience that must have been for you!” Scarlett reached for his hand, a simple gesture of sympathy. “I cannot imagine it really but…my heart breaks for trying.”

“I thought love was a weak construction for others who did not have the weight and responsibilities that I had inherited. I never ever equated marriage with love, Scarlett. It was never presented to me that way and when it was brought up or spoken of, it was then made clear that any such aspirations were foolish and bound to end in disaster and disappointment.”

“How depressing! What could marriage be then, without love?”

“A contract to benefit two families. An alliance of blood and fortunes and if one is very lucky, a comfortable and amicable arrangement that produces the necessary heir.”

Scarlett let go of his hand. “And now?”

“Now, I see you glowing with every prospect of happiness at your back. Your mother…has no guile but seizes you for embraces whenever the impulse strikes her and I am in awe of her kindness. Your father is fiercely devoted to all of you and where I took pride in being reserved, he takes pride in showing no such restraint. And Starr is everything a sister should be and more. But then, that’s just the inner circle, isn’t it? Your servants are all ridiculously familiar to you and your family but I can find no fault in it. Where I was taught that any such breach of the line would lead to tension and chaos, I am proven wrong. I keep looking for a way to demonstrate that tradition is the wiser course but where do I argue such a thing when I look at you?”

“You seem very flustered over there.”

“I am not. I am so calm and certain it is astonishing to me.” He took a deep breath before continuing. “Miss Blackwell, I can no longer stop myself from thinking that we well-suited you and I. If I may ask—”

Lord Winters came over, abruptly interrupting the conversation. “Excuse me, Your Grace. We have seats in the stands and I’ve been looking for Miss Blackwell for some time to collect her. Lady Winters is beside herself with worry.”

“Of course.” Talon said, frustration gripping him mercilessly. “I did not mean to detain, Miss Blackwell and cause any concern.”

“We were just talking and I forgot my promise, Uncle Galen. The fault is entirely mine,” Scarlett said quickly.

“It is no matter,” Lord Winters said as he took her gently by the arm. “Good day, Your Grace.”

Scarlett could only look back helplessly over her shoulder as she was led away and marvel that it was getting harder and harder to part from the Duke of Stafford’s company and easier and easier to long for his return.

M
r. Godwin found
Scarlett in the music salon practicing her singing the following afternoon.

“Miss Blackwell,” he began as soon as he detected a pause in her efforts. “There is a Lady Beales downstairs to see you.”

Scarlett froze. “Lady Beales? Are you certain?”

“Yes, miss. I am quite sure of it. I asked her to wait in the drawing room.”

Scarlett smoothed her skirts and quickly made her way down the stairs. Lady Beales had been the final straw that had driven her into the bushes at Aldridge’s and she couldn’t fathom why she would be calling now.

She hasn’t bothered before and I don’t think if I had been asked to polka by a prince she would think any better of me…

“Lady Beales! What a delightful surprise!” Scarlett did her best to portray genuine enthusiasm for her guest as she entered the drawing room. “Should I see if Mother is well enough to join us?”

“No, there’s no need for that. I don’t wish to disturb the house.”

“Shall I ring for tea?” Scarlett offered.

“It is too early for tea.”

“Oh, yes, of course. Do sit down.” Scarlett gave her the most comfortable chair and then settled in across from her as gracefully as she could. “It is very kind of you to call.”

“Miss Blackwell, please, if I may I must start this visit in a most unorthodox manner and first apologize for our encounter at Adlridge’s? I am not familiar with the phenomena of twins and have never delighted in learning new things.”

“Oh! You do not need to apologize. I was much too outspoken and…abrupt. It was terribly disrespectful. Please know that when I am nervous, I am not always well-behaved. It is a terrible fault and one that I will wrestle with for the rest of my life, I fear.”

“Are you nervous now?” Lady Beales asked archly, eyeing her as one might an explosive set out on a dining room table.

“No, your ladyship.”

“Where is your sister?” Lady Beales looked at the open doorway expectantly. “Will she be joining us?”

“No, your ladyship. She is making a social call on a family friend.” Scarlett folded her hands in her lap, proud of herself for not rattling on with too much detail since it was not Lady Beales’ business that Starr was at the Grove to see their Aunt Grace to discuss her new series which promised to have something about demonically possessed pirates—or cowboys. Scarlett couldn’t remember which but there would no doubt be more twists and turns than Lady Beales could manage without smelling salts.

Aunt Grace’s books, or rather A.R.Crimson’s books are not for the faint of heart.

“Unaccompanied? Did you not say your mother was here and unwell?”

“She’ll have taken Mrs. Martin with her and our brother, Paul. Cousin Colter is home from school and they are certain to make a lively gathering.” Scarlett refolded her hands then stopped. Fidgeting was not something Lady Beales would allow. She wished at the moment, that she had gone to the Grove as well.

She hadn’t seen Colter since Christmas. Colt, as they called him, was as tall, muscular and handsome as his father, and he was their favorite male peer among the Jaded offspring because while he was as clever as his mother, he had also inherited such a shy and careful nature that while the other boys had been pulling their hair or teasing them mercilessly as children do, Colter would sit quietly with them like a benevolent guard unwilling to leave their side unless the terror of other girls unfamiliar to him came to call. Then he would disappear and hide until it was “safe” to come out again. She’d meant to go with Starr but at the last minute, had changed her mind.

“Your thoughts seem to be elsewhere, Miss Blackwell.”

“No, your ladyship. I was only realizing how disappointed Starr will be to have missed you.”

“Yes. True, but it is better that we can speak privately.” Lady Beales readjusted her posture, balancing one hand on a decorative walking stick that looked far too flimsy to provide any support at all for her thick frame. “It occurred to me, Miss Blackwell, that while your family has some prominence due to the incredible and unpredictable windfalls of commerce, you may not be as attuned to the unspoken knowledge and long held connections of many in good society.”

For someone who dislikes learning new things, Lady Beales appears to enjoy teaching.

“How astute of you, Lady Beales, though I am doing my best to observe my betters and pay close attention when I can.”

“I know that some have been unkind to you but I wished to demonstrate that there is a good deal of Christian charity still to be found in this world.”

Scarlett nodded, not trusting her voice.

“I had the pleasure of attending the races at Kempton Park yesterday and saw you there, Miss Blackwell.” Lady Beales sighed. “I was surprised to see how attentive the Duke of Stafford was being and how solicitous to your every request. He is young and altogether startlingly attractive which makes it impossible not to miss him in a crowd—as if being a duke wouldn’t set him apart enough, don’t you agree?”

“Yes. Stafford would…be singular in any company.” Scarlett held her breath and refused to twitch.
Father always said if you are sure someone is going to strike you, then don’t move until you know where the blow is to land. And then get out of the way.

“It would be easy for you to be misled, Miss Blackwell. I knew his mother before she fell ill and died. She confided to me years ago that it was set for him to marry when the time came, and that the choice had already been made. An outsider would be ignorant of such things but he is sure to announce his engagement to young Lady Lavinia Chadwick, only daughter of the Earl of Gastonbury, when the time is right. As I said, he is young yet but known for a militant dedication to his duties so there is no question of his course.”

Scarlett’s surprise was not a pretense at all. “He’s engaged?

“Not as yet but her family has just come to London, so we shall see if there is a development before the Season draws to a close. No doubt, everyone will pretend to be surprised.”

“I do not know him well enough to be surprised one way or the other, Lady Beales.”

“As I feared, I have overstepped and mistaken a casual conversation and the coincidence of a dance at Pellham’s to color my thinking. How could you truly know him or be aware of these things if the ink on the contracts between the two families was dry before his christening?”

“Gracious!” Scarlett forced a bright smile. “At our christening, my sister and I were gifted with silver rattles. I did not realize that we might have been given future husbands!”

Lady Beales blinked, a woman unamused. “The Earl of Gastonbury’s wife was a cousin to the Duke of Stafford’s father and she was always a favorite. These things are never left to chance.”

“Chance makes us all fools.”

“Well said.”

Scarlett lifted her chin a fraction of an inch. “I should thank you for the delicious gossip, your ladyship. I won’t tell anyone else of it since secret engagements are largely unpublished to the general public and it may not be appreciated. He is friends with the Duke of Chesterton, so the passing acquaintance was natural. You so cleverly noted it but conversation and coincidence are not enough for a true connection.”

“Speaking of Chesterton, is he still
being kind
to you, Miss Blackwell?”

Scarlett hated the way she stressed the words ‘being kind’ as if it were a filthy proposition. “Yes. I am very fortunate to have met him.”

“Indeed.”

Scarlett waited to see if the old biddy was going to share news of Chesterton also being secretly engaged but was rewarded with only silence.

She is apparently out of ammunition. Thank God.

Scarlett held her ground, refusing to prattle on or make a show of discomfort of any kind, until Lady Beales’ will finally broke.

“I should be going. The time has passed for an acceptable limit to a social call of this nature and I have appointments to keep.” Lady Beales stood and readied herself to leave. “Good day, Miss Blackwell.”

“And to you, Lady Beales. Mr. Godwin will show you out.”

Godwin was as intuitive as ever, materializing at the door to politely escort Lady Beales to the front door and smoothly hand her off to her waiting coachman.

Scarlett stayed in the drawing room for a few minutes, listening to the sounds of the departure through the large foyer and the rituals of doors and drivers.

“Miss Blackwell?”

“Yes, Godwin? Is she truly gone?” she asked hopefully.

“Gone and for good, in my humble opinion. I did not like the look of her, Miss Scarlett.”

Scarlett shook her head. “Nor did I.”

“Just as I was about to close the door, a messenger came with this note for you.” Godwin held out a white sealed square.

Scarlett stood and retrieved it from him. The wax seal bore Stafford’s crest and her heart nearly tripped out of her chest at the implications. “Thank you, Godwin.”

He left her alone with her prize and Scarlett sat down slowly, just holding it.

It could hold anything, couldn’t it?

I’m not sure if I want any more surprises today.

Even so, curiosity won and Scarlett opened it to read the handwritten message.

M
iss Blackwell
,

Please meet me at the Apsley Gate at Hyde Park this afternoon at four o’clock. If you can, I entreat you to come alone. I must see you and speak to you privately, the irony being that such a public place seems the least likely to cause a stir. I will count the hours.

Stafford

M
eet him
.

Alone.

He must see me and speak to me privately
.

Scarlett read it a dozen times, closed her eyes before opening them and reading it twice more. After Lady Beales’ visit, she wasn’t sure what to think. Like Lady Durham, it could simply have been another attempt to dissuade her from approaching her betters—a lie or unsubstantiated bit of a rumor to push her into a snit, or spoil her equilibrium into making a critical social error.

Or it is all true and Gastonbury is coming to London and Stafford wishes to tell me face to face that he is otherwise committed and to apologize for kissing me as if he were free to do so.

There was an unmistakable thrill at the notion that he needed to see her. Ever since he’d begun to flirt with her and charm her, it was hard to deny that there had not been several daydreams that involved Talon declaring his feelings and sweeping her off her feet. Chesterton’s recent encouragement gave her strength and hope to name the impossible—the Duke of Stafford was more than an acquaintance; he was a suitor.

The truth was one meeting away.

Young ladies generally hid behind their fans when faced with such a prospect but Scarlett was her father’s daughter. It was better to know, no matter how grim, than to sit about like a helpless infant moaning and crying. He would tell her about Lavinia, or…

Scarlett took a deep breath as the impossibility stepped forward in her mind.
Or perhaps he will declare his feelings, throw off his promises to Lady Lavinia and beg for my hand in marriage.

It was a ridiculous, far flung fantasy but its tenuous hold was tightening around her ability to reason.

Mother says that knowledge is the key to wisdom.

If Chance makes us all fools, then I am determined to master the odds.

S
tarr came into the bedroom
, bonnet in hand. “She is writing a novel!”

Scarlett didn’t shift from her vanity table. “Yes. She is
always
writing a novel. It is what Aunt Grace does, dearest. I’m not sure why it’s a revelation to you today but yes…we are all very proud of Aunt Grace.” She continued to see if she could readjust her marcasite hair combs to make a better impression. “Why do I suddenly feel like I have a badger on my head?”

“Badgers are not blonde,” Starr said as she came to stand behind her. “And this time, Aunt Grace is writing a
serious
novel! It is all quite secret but she said that she has the courage to try something else. Can you imagine it?”

“I can. If anyone can accomplish it, it is Grace Rutherford. But,” Scarlett caught her sister’s eye in the mirror’s reflection. “I need your help with something. I need a favor.”

Starr sobered instantly. “What are you up to?”

“I need to go out.” Scarlett put down the combs. “Alone.”

“Alone,” Starr repeated the word, testing the weight of it on her tongue. “Why?”

“If I tell you, you must swear not to give away my secret.”

Starr nodded. “You need not bother to ask for an oath. I always keep your secrets.”

“As I keep yours.” Scarlett shifted to stand, more comfortable with conspiracies when she was on her own two feet. “Stafford has asked to meet me alone at Hyde Park. I think there is something he wishes to ask me—or tell me—or…Well, it is important enough that he has requested, very earnestly, for me to be there this afternoon at four o’clock.”

“Oh! Do you think he will pro—”