The Black Duke's Prize (7 page)

There was
nothing frightening in the Viscount of Sheresford's gaze as she met him in the
hall. "By heaven," he exclaimed, looking at her admiringly, "if
you ain't slap up to the echo."

It was exactly
what she needed to put her in good humor again. She laughed and curtseyed.
''Thank you, milord."

He hurried
forward to pull her upright. "Thomas, please," he said.

She smiled.
''Thank you, Thomas."

By the time
they reached Hyde Park they were a party of five, having been joined by Captain
Reg Hillary, his younger sister Althaea, apparently recovered from her fainting
spell, and Sir John Dremond's daughter, Louisa. Lord Neville had given Kate a
spirited gray mare named Winter, and when Thomas suggested they head off the main
drag to the more open area of the park, she readily agreed.

"What are
you looking for?" the viscount asked a few moments later, following her
gaze toward a group of riders a hundred yards distant.

She hadn't
realized she was being so obvious. "I was just wondering if the Duke of
Sommesby rode here." She wasn't precisely looking for him, except to be
certain that he wasn't near, the blackguard.

"Nick? He
does, though he usually likes to come earlier, when it's less crowded. I
thought I'd finally talked him into coming with us today, but his groom met me
at my gate with a note begging off. Said that something had come up."

Katherine
flushed. That explained why their party wasn't an even number. She knew very
well what the something had been, and wondered why he hadn't mentioned that he
was to be a member of their group when they had argued. "I'm certain it
was important."

Thomas snorted.
"With Nick there's no telling what it was."
       
 

Althaea and the
captain had brought hampers with them, and they settled for their picnic in the
shade of an old oak. Katherine peeled a peach and laughed as Reg told a story
about how. he and his six brothers and sisters had convinced three governesses
in succession that their house was haunted.

"A skill
for strategy you put to good use against bonny Bonaparte," Thomas noted,
raising his glass of Madeira.

"At least
someone in the family has courage," Althaea said ruefully, and her brother
reached over and patted her hand.

An argument
about the stallion that Thomas had just purchased, at an apparently outrageous
price, followed, and the two men rose to examine the bay.

"Althaea,
what in the world happened last night?" Louisa Dremond asked in a whisper
when the three women were alone.

"Oh, I was
so embarrassed," the girl muttered, blushing.

"Mama is
convinced that the Black Duke is ready to settle, and that I'm the one who can
bring him to his senses. I just don't want to marry anyone who's so . . .
fierce. It would be simply awful if he were to offer for me."

Kate agreed. To
be married to such an odious, highhanded villain would be nearly as bad as
handing Crestley Hall over to Uncle Simon. Thomas and the captain returned,
and as they loaded the hampers Louisa took Katherine aside.

"I don't
know if you remember," the slim, merry blond said quietly, "but you
and I came out in the same Season. I was sorry to hear about your father."

"Thank
you," Katherine replied, touched.

"When you
left London, my mama had been about to invite you and your mother over for tea.
I would like to extend that invitation now to you and the baroness, if you
would care to come."

Impulsively
Katherine took the girl's hand. ''Thank you again. I will speak to Lady Alison,
but I'm certain she will be delighted."

Katherine
returned to Hampton House in high spirits, and informed Lady Alison of their
invitation. "It's good to see color in your cheeks again," her
godmother said with a smile. "You were such a sprite when you were
younger, and I had begun to fear that your uncle had driven it out of you."

. Kate tossed
her head. "I wouldn't let him," she answered defiantly.

Her godmother
chuckled. "I'm so pleased you're making friends. I never thought I'd say
it, but Nick was a godsend last night." She straightened. ''Which reminds
me. Something arrived for you." She led the way into the drawing room.

Kate thought
that it would be some of her things from Crestley, but instead, in the middle
of the table at the end of the low couch, between a Chinese jade dragon and a
wooden African elephant carving, perched a tall vase full of white roses. In
the center of the fragrant mass a single red rose stood out like a drop of
blood. A card leaned against the narrow base of the fine crystal.

With a deep
breath she picked up the envelope. Her name was written across the
cream-colored parchment in a bold hand that she already had come to recognize.
Her heart began to beat faster as she pulled out the card, though she couldn't
say why that was so. The writing inside was equally familiar. All it said was
"Apologies." It was signed, "Varon."

When, at
luncheon two days later, Louisa and her mother, Lady Mary, discovered that the
closest Kate had ever been to the opera was a Christmas pageant at the All
Souls Church back home in Staffordshire, they immediately invited her and Lady
Alison to join them in their box that evening. More of Katherine's dresses had
arrived, and with Emmie's help she donned a low-cut gold silk creation with
short, puffy sleeves and full, looped skirts. Her maid pulled her hair up and
curled the long ends to let them hang in black spirals down her back. Lady
Alison knocked and came in as Emmie was finishing Katherine's tresses.

''This is too
much, I think," Kate muttered, eyeing herself critically.

"Nonsense,"
Lady Alison chided her, then smiled.

"Though I doubt that any gentlemen present tonight will be watching
The Marriage of Figaro."
She chuckled. "More likely they'll be
daydreaming of their own blissful nuptials."

"Lady
Alison!" Kate exclaimed, blushing, then laughed. "Oh,
 
dear."

The Dremonds'
coach brought them to the opera house, and while the older women stopped in the
lobby to greet friends, Louisa took Kate by the arm and led her up the' narrow
stairs to the row of boxes on the left side of the stage. "The best part
of going to the opera," Louisa said, pushing through a set of curtains,
"is watching everyone watching everyone else."

Kate chuckled.
''What about the music and the singing?"

"Oh, posh
 
on that."

Abruptly Louisa
stopped, tugging Kate back against the wall. A slim blond woman walked toward
them along the narrow hallway behind the boxes. Her red gown was even more
low-cut than Kate's, and a matching tall red plume waved above her hair. The
woman passed by them without even glancing over, and headed for the stairs. Directly
behind her sauntered the Duke of Sommesby, a dark vision in black and gray. He
stopped as he saw her, then nodded.

"Good
evening, Miss Ralston," he intoned. "Miss Dremond."

Louisa
curtsied. "Your Grace."

"You enjoy
opera?" he queried, his eyes swiftly taking in Katherine from head to toe
and back again.

"I don't
know," she answered, lifting her chin and refusing to blush at his
scrutiny. "I've never been before."

"Nicky,"
came a simpering voice from behind her, "come downstairs, darling."

"In a
moment, Eloise," he answered, flicking a glance at the woman, just the
faintest touch of annoyance in his gray eyes. "You've made a good choice
for your first opera, then," he continued, his gaze returning to
Katherine. "Mozart seems able to provide something for every taste."
He smiled.

"I'll wait
for you in the lobby, dear. Don't be long talking to these children."

Annoyed at the
insult, Katherine cleared her throat as the woman departed. "Apparently
Mozart failed in her case," she muttered to Louisa, who giggled.

The duke had
moved past Louisa to follow the woman, and he stopped in mid-stride, his sharp
look setting Katherine back a little. He leaned forward, blocking her from
Louisa. "Miss LeMonde's interests need be no concern of yours, Miss Ralston,"
he returned.

More annoyed
now, Katherine glanced away to see that Miss LeMonde was no longer in sight.
"Apparently your interests are no concern of hers," she replied,
"as you seem to want to stay."

The duke
straightened. "Eloise's interests are whatever I wish them to be," he
murmured, and turned on his heel I0 follow the woman.

"How
unfortunate for you," Kate replied in an equally soft voice, refusing to
blush even though she could guess what he was implying.

His back
stiffened, but the duke ignored her comment otherwise and continued on his way.
In a moment he was gone, through the curtains and down the steps. Kate turned
to find Louisa staring at her.

"Weren't
you afraid of him?" her friend muttered, pulling her forward to their
box.

"The Duke
of Sommesby?" Kate replied. "Never." She glanced back to make
certain that Lady Alison and Lady Mary hadn't arrived yet. "That woman
with him, was she the one who almost caused that duel before?"

Louisa shook
her head and leaned closer. "No. That was Josette Bettreaux. The duke sent
her off to Paris. You would definitely know her if you saw her. She's . . .
stunning. I don't know who Eloise LeMonde is. She must be a new one." She
sighed. "She is beautiful, though."

Kate tilted her
head and looked out over the audience below to find that, as Lady Alison had
predicted, several pairs of opera glasses were turned in her direction. "I
don't think he likes her very much," she replied.

Louisa blushed.
"I don't suppose that matters," she whispered, then giggled.

Kate smiled
back, though surprisingly she didn't feel much amused. "I suppose
not." She wondered how the Black Duke felt about Josette Bettreaux, and if
he would ask her to come back from Paris.

As the other
ladies arrived, Louisa pointed out who held the other boxes around the theater.
The one that lay two sections closer to the stage than the Dremonds' box was
the Duke of Sommesby's. Katherine glanced over at it several times during the
evening. It remained empty.

*
 
 
*
 
 
*

The Berresford
ball was rumored to be the grandest assembly of the Season, and Louisa and
Althaea had talked of little else for a week. Everyone was supposed to be
there, and Kate wondered if that was true.

"Miss
Kate?"

Katherine
started and looked into the mirror to see Emmie's reflection gazing back at
her. "Yes, Emmie?"

"You're
finished, milady," the maid said, her tone making it clear that this was
not the first time she had spoken.

''Thank
you," Katherine said, rising. "I must have been daydreaming."

Smiling, she walked
over to the full-length mirror and twirled around. Emmie had somehow managed to
pull her hair up, arranging the tendrils that insisted on escaping into a soft
frame around her face and neck. Her deep-rose silk gown with lighter-colored
lace at her neck and frothing at the end of her half sleeves had rose beads
sewn throughout the body, and she shimmered with every movement It wasn't as
simple as she liked, but she had to admit that the effect was pleasing.

Thomas's
opinion was less restrained as the viscount met her and the Hamptons at the
side of the ballroom. "You are a goddess, Kate," he breathed, and
bowed low over her hand, his sandy hair falling into his eyes.

She chuckled.
"Thank you, Thomas."

"It looks
to be a sad crush," he noted happily as he led her over to where the rest
of their group had already gathered. They exchanged greetings, and then the
Viscount abruptly frowned.

"What is
it?" she murmured.

''Trouble, no
doubt." Thomas grimaced, and Katherine turned to see Francis DuPres approaching.
He was obviously still out of sorts over the events of the Albey ball, for
though she had caught him looking at her several times over the past days, he
hadn't yet approached. Until then.

DuPres reached
them, his eyes on her as he bowed.

"Miss
Ralston, will you do me the honor of dancing with me this evening?"

Thomas shifted,
and she knew that he was about to give DuPres a setdown. The dandy glanced at
her companions, and she abruptly wondered if being accepted might be as
important to him as it had been to her. "Yes, Mr. DuPres," she
answered before Thomas could intervene, and held out her card and pencil so
that he could choose the dance himself.

A look she
couldn't read briefly crossed his face and then was gone. He almost snatched
the card out of her hand in his eagerness to have it. When he had written his
name in, he gave it back to her and bowed again. "Until then, Miss
Ralston," he said, and walked away.