The Lady and the Duke Read online

  "Audrey!"

  Wincing at Mama’s shrill call from the first floor of their London townhome, Audrey hurried down the steps, hastily tying the wide ribbons of her bonnet under her chin.

  "There you are, you lazy gel," said her mother, as she stood in the entry of the house tapping her foot impatiently against the marble floor. "I cannot imagine what has taken you so long, but never mind, for you are here now. Finally. We must hurry if we are going to have time for Bond Street before visiting Lady Harris."

  Biting back a sigh, Audrey followed her mother to the waiting landau. It was a beautiful spring day, warm and balmy, rare in that one could actually spy clear blue skies instead of the dreary grayness that usually permeated the London air. And she was going to spend the entire day inside, first at the shops and then sitting in a parlor, sipping tea and making insipid conversation with women who looked down their perfect, elegant noses at her.

  What she wouldn’t give to be back at Dobbins House, in Hampshire, secluded in her favorite copse of trees with a book and a nice, crisp apple.

  The next hour was spent sitting and standing, being draped with volumes of material, pinched, prodded and minutely inspected, as if she were a new specimen of insect the world had never seen. Her mother seemed quite sure that the only way her daughter would catch a husband was if she were dressed in high fashion at all times, a belief that her father claimed was going to put them all in the poorhouse.

  Audrey tolerated the torturously long experience with as much patience as she could summon; turning, dipping and holding still without a murmur. Mama meant well. It was senseless and a bit self-indulgent to complain about receiving new clothes, even when she had hordes of perfectly serviceable garments in her wardrobe already.

  Distracted by her thoughts, Audrey stepped out of the dressmaker's shop and ran smack into someone walking in the opposite direction.

  "Oh!"

  She really needed to start paying attention. This was becoming tiresome.

  Exasperated, she started to bend down to pick up the packet of ribbons she had dropped in the collision. A man’s gloved hand came into view, stopping her with a touch on her elbow. She glanced up to find a pair of familiar brown eyes laughing at her.

  "Oh, of course it’s you," said Audrey, with a disbelieving shake of her head.

  "You weren’t joking last evening. You actually do make this a habit," said the dark haired gentleman from the ball with whom she had shared the most enjoyable ten minutes of her entire night. Unable to stifle her amusement, Audrey rolled her eyes and held her hand out for the package he had scooped up from the pavement.

  "Ha, ha, you are so very diverting."

  With a grin, he placed the ribbons in her outstretched palm as the bells over the door tinkled and her mother stepped out of the shop.

  "Audrey, who is this gentleman?"

  Mama's gaze measured the man, dressed as well and correctly as any of their set, with the experienced eye of a matchmaking mama. With an elegant flourish he bowed low, his movement fluid and natural, then straightened with a charming grin firmly in place. That lovely dimple creased one cheek again, giving him a roguish air.

  "Good day, madam. Your daughter dropped her parcel and I was merely retrieving it for her."

  As her mother arched a brow at Audrey, the gentleman turned his head slightly away from her and sent her an almost imperceptible wink. She lifted a hand to her mouth, disguising her giggle as a cough. Mama eyed her suspiciously for another moment before turning back to the man before them.

  "If I might I be so bold as to make myself known to you, madam?" he continued, his manner sure and smooth. "Halford, at your service."

  Audrey immediately lost her smile.

  Oh, Lord. Why did it have to be him?

  She couldn’t bear it if the duke thought she set out to maneuver him onto that balcony last night. It was almost comical that Audrey had finally attracted the notice of a gentleman that her mother fervently approved of, one that she herself found quite attractive, and it was the worst possible thing that could happen at the moment.

  She just wanted to go home to Hampshire.

  "Oh, Your Grace, it is so lovely to finally meet you," gushed Mama, her entire demeanor changing from mildly interested to fawning in the blink of an eye. "I am Baroness Witte, and this is my daughter Audrey."

  The duke bowed over her hand, then turned to Audrey, his expression polite. Unless one could see the gleam in his dark gaze. "Miss...?"

  "Ellis, Your Grace."

  "Charmed to make your acquaintance, Miss Ellis."

  Although his bow over her hand was brief, Audrey could feel the heat of him through her glove. When he released her, she surreptitiously rubbed her tingling palm against her skirts.

  Audrey's mother cleared her throat, claiming his attention again. "We missed you at Lady Massey's ball last night, Your Grace. How sad, for my Audrey truly loves to dance."

  A slight smile curved the duke's mobile lips. "I do apologize. I was...detained elsewhere."

  "We are out almost every evening, Your Grace. I am quite sure you will find another time to dance with my daughter."

  Oh, Lord. She wanted to find a rock to crawl under. Audrey couldn't stop a small, horrified whistling intake of air.

  "Ah, yes—"

  Mama cut him off, giving Audrey a not so subtle jab in the ribs with her elbow. "That is, if Audrey's card is not full. I have always said that my darling girl could look high for her match. Why, her father has been besieged at his club by prospective suitors ever since her debut."

  Audrey resisted the urge to snort with derision at the blatant lie, as a pregnant pause stretched between the duke and her mother. His expression had turned slightly alarmed. She could only presume it was the effusive endorsement of a girl he had presumably just met. Halford took half a step backward and glanced around, as he appeared to be searching for words. The poor man looked to be on the verge of bolting.

  Audrey did not blame him in the least.

  How could she? She wanted to run away herself, from the embarrassment that was her social-climbing mother. But running wouldn’t help, since this was her daily reality. Best to just wait it out, really.

  Perhaps he really would run away, and then she could go back to Hampshire, where everything was comfortable and made sense to her.

  "Um, how encouraging. Miss Ellis is very lucky to have her family’s support. However—"

  "Why don’t you come for supper one night this week, Your Grace?" Audrey's mother determinedly rolled over Halford’s weak reply. She must have sensed her prey slipping away, and went in for the kill.

  "I—"

  "Perfect! Then it is set. We will expect you Thursday evening, say, eight o’clock?" Before the duke had a chance to turn down the invitation, she grasped Audrey’s arm and hauled her down the sidewalk. "We look forward to seeing you again, Your Grace!"

  Audrey glanced back to see a stunned Halford still standing outside the modiste’s shop, looking entirely flummoxed by the conversation and felt a flash of reluctant amusement. He looked as though someone had run up behind him and smacked his head with a board. It was really quite adorable, actually. She caught his gaze and sent him a small, crooked smile of apology before following her Mama into the waiting landau.

  As mortified as she was at her Mama's blatant matchmaking, Audrey couldn't help but feel a little tingle of anticipation at the thought of seeing him again.

  Chapter Three

  The fourth course was going to be the death of him—if he was lucky.

  William Langston, the ninth Duke of Halford, smothered a yawn and struggled to look as though he was attending Lady Witte’s every word as she expounded at length about the sad state of affairs regarding the decline in popularity of serving sole during the fish course. Duke or no, only when he dined at Carlton House did he ever see a more abundant or excessive display of food.

  By the glares Lord Witte was sending his chattering, oblivious wife, this was not the t
ypical menu when they hosted an event. Clearly Lady Witte had outdone herself in anticipation of a duke coming to supper. Will idly wondered how much longer they would be at the table. It had been almost three hours since he and fourteen other guests had sat down to dine.

  Surely the larder must be bare by now.

  He bit back a sigh as the door to the dining room swung open, revealing several footmen carrying laden trays of sugared fruit and nuts, piles of pastries and multiple bowls of trifle topped with whipped cream. Lady Witte clapped her hands in delight as her guests murmured their approval.

  "Oh, Your Grace, I hope you saved your appetite," she said, ignoring her husband’s outraged muttering. "Our chef has a most deft hand at dessert. Why, his trifle is like silk."

  Will was distracted from replying by the barely audible snort from across the table.

  "Do you not enjoy trifle, Miss Ellis?" He raised an eyebrow at the reason he was sitting through this bizarre epicurean orgy.

  "Oh, yes, most assuredly. After all, everyone loves trifle," she said, widening her eyes at him with not the least bit of regard for his consequence. "Small children, the elderly, people with no teeth…"

  He couldn’t stop the snort that escaped his own mouth and their eyes connected, laughing silently.

  If he was being honest, it was Miss Ellis’s witty and amusing spirit that had truly drawn him to her parents' home this evening. He did not really have time for socializing, and had only attended the ball the previous evening in hopes of tracking down that treacherous scoundrel Viscount Claremont.

  Will could not help but admire Miss Ellis’s persistent good cheer.

  Neither her mother’s subtle criticisms nor her father’s dismissive regard had affected her mischievous, blithe spirit in the least. It did not seem to bother her that the haughty, aging dandy to her left had snubbed her all evening or that the portly earl to her right bumped her elbow every time he reached for his wine.

  "I like trifle," he replied, just to see what she would say. Her sly wit was the best part of the evening.

  The corner of her mouth twitched. "Well, Your Grace, I am not sure what that says about you."

  "Audrey, what has gotten into you?" Lady Witte hissed. "Your Grace, I apologize for my unruly daughter. She usually has better manners than this."

  Although her smile remained firmly fixed upon her face, the corners of Miss Ellis’s eyes tightened, just the slightest bit. Will had misjudged her. She wasn’t unaffected, but a brilliant actress.

  "Please, do not—your daughter’s manners are perfectly delightful," Will replied. He was truly starting to dislike Lady Witte . "I was teasing her and she was merely defending herself."

  "You are most generous, Your Grace." With one last frown for her daughter, the baroness turned her attention to the man on her left, as he expounded to the table at large about the time he had met the great General Wellington.

  Once her mother’s attention was diverted, however, Miss Ellis sent him a small smile and rolled her eyes. Will grinned back, relieved that she did not seem overly bothered by the incident.

  Finally, the seeming endless parade of dishes ended, the meal concluded, and the women rose to take their leave. Will watched as they filed out the door, reluctant to look away until he could no longer spy any glimpse of peach colored silk. This unwilling budding fascination with Miss Ellis was going to complicate things. He should probably make good his escape now, cut it to the quick, before it could burrow in and take root.

  The problem with his plan to make a dash for it was that Will didn’t want to leave now. Foolish perhaps, but there it was.

  "Would you care for a cheroot, Your Grace?" Lord Witte stood next to his chair, one silvered, bushy eyebrow raised in inquiry.

  With a nod, he stood and followed the older man to the doors to the terrace, where several of the other male guests had gathered.

  "Lady Witte gives me hell when she smells smoke in the house," grumbled the older gentleman as he handed a cheroot to Will, leaning forward to light it for him. "Makes me stand outside of my own home, regardless of the weather. Women."

  Will puffed, enjoying the rich taste of fine tobacco, and blew a ring over his head. "Perhaps Lady Witte is just concerned you do not get enough fresh air. I have been told it’s good for the constitution."

  "You've never been married, have you?" Lord Witte let out a sharp chortle that was echoed by several the gentlemen standing nearby. "Women want to be in charge of everything. They require a firm hand, lest they turn into Napoleon in skirts."

  "You do not believe that of all women surely." Will thought of his older sister. He couldn’t conceive of a more giving, sweet, trusting person.

  Too trusting sometimes, which was what had brought him to London.

  "Perhaps not all, but most." Lord Witte conceded skeptically as he puffed away.

  "My wife had such foolish ideas when we were first wed," interjected the blond dandy who had been sitting next to Audrey at dinner. "But once I made her aware of how our marriage was to work, she settled down quickly enough."

  Poor woman. Will puffed on his cheroot and concentrated on not rolling his eyes.

  "Now, now, gentlemen." Lord Witte clapped Will on the back. "Let us not frighten the duke off marriage altogether. I'm sure there's a lady out there just right for you, my Grace."

  The baron slanted a look at Will, who pretended to inspect his cheroot. Sensing his guest's unwillingness to continue the line of conversation, the baron changed the subject to his stables' newest acquisition of fine horseflesh.

  Will wasn’t in any position to even consider taking a bride until he straightened out his sister’s mess. It would unfair to bring a lady into his life now, with a potential scandal waiting to explode. The only reason he had even come to Town was to track down Lisle's blackmailer. Her beloved husband had died two years past, leaving her in a maelstrom of sadness and depression, and she had taken as a lover last summer to stem her grief. Using one man to numb her love for another was disastrous in more ways than one, and Lisle was paying the price for her foolishness.

  Regardless of his sister's lack of thought before embarking on the ill-advised affair, Will wanted to kill Viscount Claremont for taking advantage of her grief stricken state. According to Lisle, he was now in possession of some scandalous letters she had written him at the height of their affair and was threatening to expose her, and the family, to society’s disdain if she did not pay him five thousand pounds. It wasn’t that Will couldn’t afford to pay the blackmail amount fifty times over.

  It was the principle of the matter.

  This man had used Lisle heartlessly and now thought to profit from the affair. Will couldn't imagine a lower piece of pond slime and he intended to make his sentiments known to the viscount in a way that could not be misconstrued. No one threatened the Duke of Halford’s sister and got away with it.

  Chapter Four

  Audrey glanced at the doorway as the men joined the ladies in the sitting room, but Halford still did not appear. Had the duke had made good his escape? Her father entered the room alone, the last of the gentlemen it seemed. She pressed her lips together, determined not to allow anyone to see how the duke’s defection bothered her.

  No—good for him. If only she had such a choice.

  Taking the next best option available to her, Audrey slipped out the doors to the terrace, unnoticed by the merry crowd gathered in her parents’ salon. She drifted down the stone steps, following the path through the orderly and manicured garden, toward the gazebo near the back wall of the property.

  Reaching the wooden structure full of silver-edged shadows in the moonlight, she mounted the steps, coming to an abrupt stop at the entrance.

  "Miss Ellis." The Duke of Halford rose from the seat he had been occupying and inclined his head. "Care to join me?"

  Audrey looked at him across the darkened gazebo, barely able to make out his form. His face was completely cloaked by shadows. Sitting in the path of a stream of moonlig
ht, she hoped her own expression had not given away the surge of gladness she had felt upon spying him.

  He had not left.

  She wasn’t sure what to make of that.

  "Why not?" Walking to the bench furthest from him, she sat down, aiming for a carefree manner. She was grateful for the dark, not sure if she was truly disguising the tension she felt at being alone with him.

  "Why not, indeed," he said softly and settled himself on the wooden ledge again.

  They sat in companionable silence and after a time, Audrey relaxed. The chirp of crickets and the rustling of small night creatures was soothing after the chatter of her parents’ guests. She closed her eyes with a sigh, leaning her head against the post behind her.

  "Your mother is a very determined woman."

  The abrupt sound of his voice made her jump. She opened her eyes to see that he had leaned forward and was watching her intently. The pale light of the moon bathed him, turning all his features indeterminate silver.

  "Yes, well, I apologize for her. She can be quite persistent, but she doesn’t mean any harm."

  He looked skeptical. "She all but offered you up on a serving platter at supper."

  "I was hoping you had not noticed that."Audrey laughed and shook her head ruefully. "She cannot help herself around an eligible man. It brings out the worst in her. Just ignore her matchmaking attempts and she will eventually cease."

  A lock of hair slid into his eyes and he shoved it back impatiently. Her heart beat a little faster under his steady regard. He was not how she had pictured the Duke of Halford, but she quite liked his understated style. He looked as though he would be equally comfortable in a ballroom or astride a horse. Quiet confidence and competence. It was more alluring to her than flashy good looks or an expensive wardrobe.

  "I promise I did not put myself in your path the other evening on purpose. I know it must have crossed your mind, now that you’ve met Mama." Audrey felt the need to clarify. It would be mortifying if he thought her to be an adventuress.

  "The idea had not occurred to me." Halford looked surprised, then thoughtful. "I would have never asked you to walk with me if I suspected it of you. I've had years to develop my ability to discern an underlying motive, and you seemed too honest for such devious behavior. I noticed that immediately."