Sins of a Duke (6 page)

On her other side, Melbourne finally stirred. “Her
Highness mentioned that. When you married an English ex-patriot, Your Majesty, did you have any idea this would happen?”

Maria Embry smiled, sending her husband a fond glance. “Nothing surprises me where Stephen is concerned.”

Melbourne continued to clutch the prospectus across his lap as if he thought a stiff breeze would whisk it away. “Still, to become a king—rey, excuse me,” he pursued. “That’s extraordinary.”

“I felt humble and grateful, and determined to do my utmost for my people,” the rey said. “That’s why we’re here. And when we leave, it will be to make Costa Habichuela our permanent home.”

“Barring invasion from Spain,” Deverill commented.

“The funds I’m raising and our close alliance with England will help to prevent that.”

“Tell me, Melbourne,” Josefina began, mostly to give her parents a few moments to prepare for their largest public outing as the leaders of a country, “how many waltzes will be played tonight?”

“Most likely two—one at the beginning of the evening and one near the end. We will have missed the first. You’re permitted to join all the other dances. It’s only the waltz that requires the patronesses’ permission.”

“It seems silly. Who are these women?”

“Old frumps, mostly,” Deverill drawled. “Stiff and cranky. Their only amusement is looking down their noses at everyone else, and the only way they could manage that was to settle in as hostesses of the most boring soirees in London.”

Josefina grinned. At least someone seemed willing to give straight answers. “Why does anyone attend, if it’s so dull?”

“Because everyone worries that they’ll be the only ones not attending if they don’t appear. It’s quite complex, and a
very sad happenstance.” He sighed. “And extremely prudish. No alcohol allowed.”

She started to ask why
he
was attending, but changed her mind. He didn’t seem to worry over anyone else’s opinion, so obviously Melbourne had asked him along. Why, though? Did the duke dislike her? Not according to that kiss. Perhaps he was afraid of her, though given his standing and reputation that didn’t seem likely, either. Hm. A puzzle. And the thing she liked best about puzzles was solving them.

Though she had several questions for Melbourne, answers weren’t likely to be forthcoming with her parents and his brother-in-law present. She would save them for a dance. And he
would
dance with her; she would make certain of that.

They arrived at the assembly rooms, and once again it was Deverill who offered a hand to assist her. She wondered briefly whether the handsome marquis might be infatuated with her, but dismissed the notion just as quickly. He looked at her with nothing more than the same slightly amused curiosity as he did her parents and everyone else around them.

“Excuse me,” she said, freeing her hand from his arm and stepping over to where Melbourne chatted with her father. At least the duke had left the prospectus behind in the coach. “If you will,” she said, offering her hand to him.

“Of course.” He took her fingers and placed them over his dark sleeve.

“That’s good,” she returned in a lower voice as he led their group to the entrance, “because otherwise I would think you were slighting me, and I would be insulted again.”

“Ah,” he breathed, keeping his profile to her. “If you slap me here tonight, I will reciprocate in kind.” Finally he glanced down at her. “Consider that you’ve been warned.”

“If you want to frighten me, why don’t you threaten to kiss me again?” she returned.

“Because you want me to kiss you again,” he murmured.

A slow smile curved his mouth, and heat spun through her. How could anyone who portrayed himself as so stern and aloof have a smile that…heart-stopping?

“I do not,” she stated belatedly.

“Then stop arguing with everything I say.”

“I do not argue with everything you say.”

His smile deepening, he pulled out his pocket watch with his free hand. “Nine seconds,” he said, snapping it closed again.

Her cheeks heated, and she dug her fingers into his sleeve to retaliate. “So you think you have me figured out, do you? I daresay you have no idea.”

“Enlighten me then, Princess.”

She sniffed. “First present me to these absurd women.”

“Say that any louder, and you’ll be asked to leave before I have time to check my watch again.”

Blast it all. She wanted to slap the smug expression off his face. At the same time she absolutely believed that he hadn’t been bluffing, that he would slap her right back, and in the middle of the room. She’d already seen how he reacted to her arguing, but there was a time and a place for making her annoyance known. This was neither. “Fine,” she muttered. “Let’s get on with it, then.”

“Very well, but it won’t be me presenting you.” He lifted a hand and signaled at someone across the room.

“Why not?” she demanded.

“Two reasons. One, I will not put myself in the position of being turned away by anyone, much less those chits, and two, if—”

“But you’ll have me put in that position?”

“You already are,” he returned calmly. “As I was saying, two, if I present you, then rumors will fly that I’m courting you and that I’m trying to force Society to accept you. That will be the surest way to see that they don’t.”

It made sense. “So you’re doing me a favor by abandoning me,” she said anyway.

He snorted. “Princess Josefina, this is my aunt, Lady Gladys Tremaine. Auntie, may I present Princess Josefina Embry?”

Josefina turned to face a stout woman wearing a matronly blue silk gown and an easy, infectious smile. “Good evening, Your Highness,” the woman said, sinking into a curtsy and then grabbing Melbourne’s free arm to drag herself upright again.

Belatedly Josefina nodded back at her. “Lady Gladys.”

“So you’re the one half of London’s been talking about,” Melbourne’s aunt continued.

“Indeed she is,” Melbourne commented, slipping free of both of them. “I’ll see you in a few minutes.”

And just like that he vanished into the growing crowd. “Infuriating man,” Josefina muttered.

“Oh, he is that,” his aunt agreed. “Come along, there’s quite a crowd tonight. I think everyone’s here to see you and your parents.”

With Melbourne out of sight, Josefina finally took a moment to look around. The assembly rooms seemed nearly stuffed to the rafters, and the part of the crowd that hadn’t surrounded her parents closed in around her. No one chatted with her, of course; they only wanted to stare. She lifted her chin and squared her shoulders, sending up a quick thanks to Melbourne for suggesting that she wear white. All of the other young ladies were.

“When it’s our turn,” Melbourne’s aunt was saying in
a quiet voice, “they’ll ask you a few silly questions and then they’ll all take turns nodding or welcoming you to the assembly.” She grinned. “Melbourne escorted you in, so they won’t have any choice.”

“But he said he wouldn’t risk them making him look foolish.”

“Gentlemen don’t make the presentation, so to his face one of them might have dared make a row over the break in tradition. With him looking on and having respectable old me do the honors, you’ll have as easy a time as anyone ever did, except perhaps for his sister, Nell. That was quite an evening, with everyone falling all over themselves to be nice to Eleanor, and her just eighteen.” Lady Gladys moved them closer to a group of a dozen or so women seated in chairs at one side of the room. “Oh, yes, they’re all here. And if they ask whether you waltzed at the Elkins soiree, tell them you don’t recall.”

“You mean I can’t waltz
anywhere
without their permission?”

“That’s the tradition. Believe me, if anyone would ask
them
to waltz, they wouldn’t care so much about what other girls are doing.”

The crowd in front of them parted. How strange, that something she hadn’t known about an hour ago had become of tantamount importance. Her parents wouldn’t care whether she received permission to waltz or not, only that she made a good impression. No, this was about wanting to be able to waltz with Melbourne—not just tonight, but any night hereafter that she chose to do so.

“Ladies,” Lady Gladys said, abruptly much more formidable than she’d been a moment before, “may I present Princess Josefina of Costa Habichuela? Her parents, as you’ve probably heard by now, are rey and queen of that country.”

Josefina inclined her head, not knowing what was customary but refusing to curtsy before a group of social inferiors. One of them, Lady Jersey, was rumored to be a mistress of the Regent, but that did not make her royalty.

“How old are you, Your Highness?” one of them asked, her voice cool and condescending.

None of your blasted affair
. “Two and twenty,” she said aloud, remembering her father’s advice. Lose three years, and gain a duke—it seemed a fair-enough trade, though it was still entirely likely that the duke was more trouble than he was worth.

“And how long do you plan to remain in London?”

“That depends on my father the rey’s wishes,” she returned.

One of them glanced beyond Josefina’s shoulder, then gave a tight smile. “We are pleased to welcome you to Almack’s, Your Highness. We do hope you enjoy your evening.”

“Nod again, thank them, and we walk away,” Melbourne’s aunt whispered.

Josefina nodded. “Thank you,” she said, and walked back into the crowd.
There
. She’d done it.

“Well done, Princess Josefina,” a deep, masculine voice came from just off to one side.

Her breath stilled. “Thank you, Melbourne,” she returned. “Is there somewhere I might get a breath of air?”

“Certainly,” he said, moving up beside her and offering his arm again. “Don’t tell me
that
overset you.”

“I am not overset,” she stated, wrapping her hand around his sleeve and allowing him to lead the way toward a doorway halfway down the length of the room. “It is stifling in here.”

“It is that.”

A large man blocked their path. “Melbourne, the—”

His arm jerked a little, and she looked up at his face. Had that been annoyance? Whatever the expression, it was gone so quickly that she couldn’t be certain. “I’ll be with you in a moment, Shipley,” he said, moving around the obstruction.

“Business?” she asked, her general antagonism toward him drowned by curiosity.

“It’s always business. I hope your father realizes what he’s let himself in for.”

They went through the crowded doorway, turned a corner, walked through another door, and ended up outside at what looked like a service entrance. A blank wall faced them across the alleyway, a narrow band of dark sky and dim stars above.

“Not much of a view,” she said dryly.

“No, but it is air.”

It was also relatively quiet, and at this time of evening, private. “I don’t know about you,” she said, looking into gray eyes turned black in the gloom.

“What don’t you know about me?”

“You offer me good advice, then you practically cut me, then you gain me acceptance at Almack’s, insulting me once or twice in the process, then find me a quiet place where I can catch my breath.”

“Ah,” he returned, humor in the brief word. “Let’s talk about you for a moment. You attack from all angles, like a troop of marauding huns. A jab here, a smile there, an arrow to my pride, and a javelin to my sensibility.”

“And what does all that mean?”

“You irritate me.”

Josefina frowned. “Well, isn’t that nice to kn—”

He tilted her chin up with his fingertips and closed his mouth over hers. Fire danced along her nerves. The Duke of Melbourne kissed with an intensity, a heat, almost a
desperation, that she’d never encountered before. As stoic as he could be in conversation, his embrace overflowed, overwhelmed, with emotion.

Her back thudded against the wall. Thoughts tangling, overlapping, receding, Josefina clutched his lapels, pulling him still closer. The amount of desire he had—it felt like faith he placed in her, faith that she could provide what he wanted. That was a new sensation, and it frightened the devil out of her.

“Stop,” she gasped, the word muffled against his mouth.

Slowly he pulled back, lifting his head. His expression—lust, need, arousal—burned into her. Just as swiftly, though, it was gone behind his mask of calm command. And it was a mask, she realized. With what roiled inside him, she was amazed he could fool anyone, much less everyone. What could he tell about her, from the way she clung to him?

“Apologies,” he muttered, moving back another step.

“That’s quite—”

He turned on his heel and strode off into the dark depths of the alley.

She felt cold. Bereft and insulted. “You owe me a waltz,” she called in his general direction, though she couldn’t see him in the gloom.

“You’ll have it,” his voice returned, clipped and toneless.

Josefina stood for a moment in the dark. As the night sounds of London crept closer around her like a not quite comfortable cloak, she pulled open the door and returned inside alone. Her father wanted to see her wed to Melbourne. For the first time she considered what making such a union would mean to Sebastian Griffin. He was not a man who
had
to marry. If he wed again, it would be
because someone could answer the deep…need…in him. If that person was her, God forgive her if she betrayed it or proved herself false or unable to live up to it—because the Duke of Melbourne would have no mercy at all.

“H
ow do you mean, ‘odd’?” Eleanor, Lady Deverill asked, shading her eyes to look at her husband pacing beside the daffodils. With her other hand she scooped their five-month-old daughter, Rose, back onto the blanket and away from the butterfly she was attempting to eat.

“I’m not certain,” Valentine returned, the unaccustomed hesitation in his voice as troubling as what he was attempting to say. “I would say he seemed…confused.”

“Sit down here before you blind me,” she said, patting the blanket beside her. “And tell me how my brother seemed confused. Last night was Almack’s. I would equate that with boredom, rather than confusion.”

Her husband sank onto the blanket beside her, absently lifting Rose onto his lap to twiddle his fingers at her. “I am painfully aware of that, believe you me.” He drew a breath, as thoughtful and concerned as she’d ever seen him. “He asked me to join him so I could ‘observe with my usual cynicism,’ or so he said. The Costa Habichuela people were
polite and eager to make a good impression, as anyone coming to London in search of funds and support would be. But the chit…”

“You’re referring to Princess Josefina, I presume? The one who slapped my brother in public?”

“Put your knives away, my heart.” Valentine leaned sideways and kissed her in that soft, sensual way that made her glad she was sitting down. “He looks at her when she’s not looking at him, but to her face he either argues, or is so formal he’s almost rude.”

Her breath caught. “He likes her. Good heavens.”

“That’s what I thought, as soon as he admitted that she annoys him. But…” Valentine lifted Rose to look her in the eye. “You are staying away from men, my sugar cake. Men are evil, wicked, and devious. I know this, because I am one.”

Rose laughed, grabbing her father’s handsome nose.

“Oh, you think it’s funny now. Just you wait.”

“Valentine, you’re changing the subject.”

He stood, holding Rose in one arm and pulling Eleanor to her feet with the other. “You should go talk to him. You’re a chit and his sister, so he might converse with you about things he won’t with me.”

Nell smiled, leaning up against his arm to kiss him again. “Look at you, caring about other people.
And
holding a baby.”

“Yes, I’m doomed. Go. Rose and I will discuss the merits of celibacy.”

With a fond look back at her husband and daughter, Eleanor went inside Corbett House to call for a coach and to change clothes. The odds were very small that her oldest brother would confide in her, but if Sebastian’s behavior had cynical Valentine troubled, it was something she needed to look into.

Four years ago when Charlotte had wasted away and
died, Sebastian had asked her to stay on at Griffin House instead of moving in with their Aunt Tremaine for her debut London Season. He’d asked Charlemagne and Zachary to abandon their bachelor apartments and return home, as well. They’d all done so without hesitation, but now all of them had left again, married and happy and pursuing their own lives.

Was Sebastian considering moving forward as well? She hoped so with all her heart. On the other hand, he’d only known this Princess Josefina for what, four days? Three? She definitely needed to find out what the devil was going on. Immediately.

“Would you care for another biscuit, Your Grace?”

Sebastian looked up from the Costa Habichuela prospectus and recrossed his ankles to ease the ache in his hip. Sitting in the tiny chair in Peep’s playroom was well and good for a petite seven-year-old girl, but he was two inches over six feet. “That would be splendid, Lady Penelope.”

She set one of the treats onto his china plate. “You know, I am so glad you allowed me to go see the acrobats last night. I think I could be an acrobat. Or a juggler.”

He nodded. “Juggling could be an asset to your piracy career.”

“That was my thinking.” She poured herself another cup of lemonade from the miniature teapot. “I had hoped to have more time to talk with that princess, you know.”

Sebastian hid the shiver that ran through his muscles. “Did you like her?”

“Well, she played the pianoforte well, and she told a funny story about going shopping in Jamaica. But she did insult you. If I’d known that you didn’t like her, I wouldn’t have been so polite.”

“Ah. It wasn’t that I don’t like her,” he countered, wondering why he was defending Josefina. “It was just that her being here wasn’t appropriate.”

“I understand,” Peep said, nodding. “But I hope you realize that even though you get to see Prinny and other royal people all the time, I don’t.”

“My apologies, then. I’ll keep that in mind.”

The playroom door swung open. “Good afternoon,” Zachary said, sketching a deep, formal bow. “I heard that Lady Penelope was holding a tea. May I join you?”

Peep stood, curtsying. “Of course, Lord Zachary. Do take a seat.”

Zachary headed toward one of the adult-sized chairs at the side of the room. “A seat at the table,” Sebastian instructed, flipping a page of the prospectus.

“I was only taking off my jacket,” his youngest brother said, removing his gray jacket to expose his black waistcoat. Returning to the middle of the room, he gingerly sank onto one of the four remaining children’s chairs.

“You’ll do anything for a biscuit, won’t you?” Sebastian observed.

“Apparently.”

Peep served more lemonade and biscuits while Sebastian resumed his perusal of the book. The detail amazed him—variations in climate according to elevation, with a huge portion of the text devoted to, basically, how a new arrival in the country might go about making a comfortable living. Both town occupations and farming were covered thoroughly. Parts of it sounded both familiar and deathly dull, but he couldn’t count the number of the damned things he’d read over the years.

“You went to Almack’s last night, I heard,” Zachary said abruptly.

Looking up, Sebastian took a sip of lemonade. “I did.”

“And Prinny made an appearance?”

“For about twenty minutes or so. I believe he and Lady Jersey are on the outs. Why do you ask?”

“Just making conversation.” Zach devoured a biscuit. “You escorted the Costa Habiba people again.”

“Costa Habichuela,” Peep enunciated. “It’s in Central America.”

“Yes, I did,” Sebastian answered again. “Are you taking a survey?”

“No.” Zachary laughed, the sound strained. “Of course not.”

“I wish you had brought Harold today,” Peep said, sighing. “He likes biscuits.”

Sebastian set the prospectus aside. “That dog is not welcome in this house.”

“Just because I named him after Great-grandfather? That’s a bit—”

“Because you named him after
me
, Zach. As in Sebastian
Harold
Griffin. When I suggested you prove your capacity for responsibility by getting a dog, that was a jest.”

“But Harold’s a good dog,” his daughter chimed in again.

“He would be as good a dog if his name was Foxy or Royal or something.”

Zach’s grin was easier this time. “It actually does bother you that I named him Harold, doesn’t it?”

“Yes, it does.” As if he’d ever made any secret of that.

“Good. It was meant to.”

“Gentlemen, please,” Peep put in, placing a hand on each of their shoulders, “let’s be civil.”

The playroom door opened again. “What are we not being civil about?” Shay asked.

Penelope stood again. “Lord Charlemagne, how delightful! Please join us for tea.”

With a glance between them and the full-sized chairs, Shay lowered himself into one of the miniatures. “When
we did this with Nell, I don’t remember the chairs being so small.”

“That was fifteen years ago,” Zachary pointed out. “
We
were smaller.”

If anyone outside their circle ever spotted the three large Griffin males hunkered down at a miniature table for a tea party, no one would fear them any longer. Sebastian eyed the sibling closest in age and temperament to himself. “What brings you here?”

“Just visiting. I had no idea there would be tea—” he took a sip from the undersized cup Peep handed him and made a face “—lemonade, I mean, and biscuits.”

As Sebastian watched, his brothers looked at each other, neither seeming terribly pleased at his sibling’s presence. Hm. “Are you joining us at the Beardsley recital tonight, Shay?”

“No. Sarala’s parents have invited us for dinner.” He cleared his throat. “I think they’re hoping to hear…news,” he continued, glancing at his niece.

Startled, Sebastian sat forward, nearly dumping himself out of the tiny chair. “And is there…news?”

Shay’s face reddened. “I am not prepared to confirm or deny anything at this moment. In another week or so, perhaps.”

“Is Aunt Sarala going to have a baby?” Peep asked, giving a scowl and folding her arms across her chest. “You can tell me such things, you know. I’m not six.”

“We should know in a few days,” Shay said, taking Peep’s hand. “You will be the first to hear, one way or the other.”

“It seems as though you should have decided something that important already, but very well.”

Sebastian looked down at his cup of lemonade. He’d made certain that Penelope would be extremely well-off for her entire life, but he couldn’t do anything about his
title. With no son of his own, upon his death it would go to his nearest male relation—Shay. If Sarala
was
with child, and if the babe was male, the Griffin name would continue with the Melbourne title for at least another generation. Thank God.

“Seb?”

Shaking himself, he looked up. “Yes?”

“How was Almack’s last evening?” Shay asked, then winced as Zachary kicked him in the foot. The low table bounced. “Very subtle, nick ninny.”

“What did you two hear?” Sebastian demanded.

“Nothing,” Shay said hastily. “It was the first large public introduction of the rey and his party. I just wondered how it went.”

“It went well. Perfectly uneventf—”

The door opened again, and Eleanor stepped into the room. “Hello, everyone,” she said with an exasperated smile. “Don’t you boys look…imposing. Did I miss an invitation to a family meeting?”

“No, it’s a tea,” Penelope corrected. “Are
you
having another baby?”

Her face went white. “‘Another’? Sebastian, is Princess Josefina pr—”

“
What?
” He shot to his feet, the little chair toppling over backward behind him.

Zachary and Shay were right behind him. “You mean Melbourne and the princess are—”

“
No
!” he interrupted before Zach could finish. “Is that what this little invasion is about? For God’s sake, if that’s the rumor, why the bloody hell didn’t anyone say—”

“It’s not,” Nell said, hurrying forward to put a hand on his arm. “It’s not. Not at all. But when Peep said—”

“She was talking about Charlemagne and Sarala.”

“Oh.
Oh
.” She turned around and hugged Shay, who belatedly returned the embrace. “Congratulations, Shay.”

“It’s not certain yet. But why did you think Melbourne and the—”

“
Enough!
” Sebastian roared. “You two,” he ordered, gesturing at his brothers, “sit down and have tea with your niece. You,” he continued, taking Nell by the arm, “come with me.”

“May I have a look at this prospectus?” Shay asked as they strode for the door.

“Yes. Stay put.”

Ignoring the rest of the protests and commentary, he practically dragged Eleanor out of the playroom and shut the door behind them. He headed down the stairs and into his office, where he closed that door, as well.

“If you think you’re going to lecture me about gossip or something, you are sadly mistaken,” Nell said sharply, moving behind the desk and sitting in his chair. “And you certainly won’t do it from here, the way you used to. I am a married woman, not a child.”

Things had definitely changed over the past two years. “Will you be quiet for a moment?” he muttered. “I’m thinking.”

From her expression, she hadn’t expected that response. He didn’t give it often. And he would never have admitted he was unsure about anything to anyone—until now, apparently. Until bloody Josefina Embry had appeared in his life.

“Why would you come to the conclusion that I am—or was—having an affair with Princess Josefina, with whom, I might add, I’ve only been acquainted for four days?”

She grimaced. “You have to admit, walking into the room to see you sitting there like overstuffed midgets and then hearing ‘Are
you
having another baby’—it was a bit offputting. And you are the only other of us who has ‘another’ child.”

He nodded. “Very well. I’ll grant you that.” Slowly he walked to the window and back again. Whatever else he
was, he remained the head of this family. As such, he was unused to having his actions questioned, and he disliked the idea that his family in particular might be doing so. “Zach and Shay are here asking about last night at Almack’s. Why?”

“Why don’t you ask them?”

“I did.” He moved forward again, taking one of the chairs on the opposite side of the desk from his sister. “What did Valentine say that has you over here, as well? And don’t tell me to ask him, because you’re the one who decided you should be here.”

“He said that you appeared to be off-balance last night. And he thought that you might have an interest in Princess Josefina.”

“That rat. I asked him to observe them, not me.”

“Is it true, then?”

“Honestly,” he said, uneasy at even discussing it, “I don’t know. I’ve been alone for four years, and yes, I find her interesting. Whether it’s because of her or because of the four years, I’m not certain.”

“But it is her specifically, and not any or every lady you encounter.”

“I suppose so.”

“Then you should see more of her.”

He lifted an eyebrow. “Thank you. Advice from a chit twelve years my junior.”

Nell smiled. “Now you sound like Melbourne again.”

“That’s the thing, Nell. I
am
Melbourne. I am not going to pursue the only offspring of a foreign king. If his country lasts past Michaelmas, if and when he dies, Josefina becomes rey or queen or whatever they decide the title should be. If it passes to her spouse, then that would make me the King of Costa Habichuela.” He forced a smile. “I prefer being an Englishman, and I won’t give up my title to be otherwise.”