The Duke Dilemma (27 page)

Why had it taken him so long to puzzle it out? How did he not see it from the first?

“I am sorry, Your Grace,” the soft voice said next to him. It was Miss Dillingham.

“I beg your pardon?” The Duke felt the pull of obligation to the woman on his arm. All he wanted to do was think about Louise Vernon and the mystery surrounding her. “Sorry about what?”

“About Lady Gelsthorpe obliging you to take a turn with me, but she is not to be puffed off, you know.” Miss Dillingham still couldn’t quite look at him when she spoke.

“No, I agree. You are completely right.” On the other hand if Lady Gelsthorpe had not intruded and not insisted she return Lady Vernon to Augusta’s side, he would have never experienced
his revelation. “And I beg your pardon, you should not be put in this position. It must be equally uncomfortable for you.”

Miss Dillingham continued their stroll without another word. This, in its own way, made their circumstance equally uneasy for the both of them.

The excitement of discovery filled Edward’s mind. He wanted to remember every word spoken with the gardener and Lady Vernon, recall the moments they’d spent together, hoping for some similar phrase, thought, or gesture he could use to reassure himself they were the same person. Without the benefit of further contemplation, he could not be completely certain that Louise was the gardener or the lady gardener was Louise. He needed to turn his attention to the woman in his company.

“Do tell me, Miss Dillingham, what interests you?” Edward inquired in earnest.

“I’ve come to Town to stay with my godmother. Everything I’ve seen, everywhere I’ve gone, fascinates me. We’ve been out about Town and seen the theater and opera, driven through Hyde Park, and, as you know, visited the Art Exhibition.”

“I do recall.” He was having difficulty keeping his attention trained on her. Miss Dillingham began to recount her impression of the Art Exhibition. Unfortunately, her words were unmemorable the moment they passed from her lips, and he felt at a loss to assemble an adequate response.

“I attend a reading group,” she finally added when he did not reply. “We’re reading a novel entitled
Emma
.”

“And are you enjoying the book?”

“Oh, yes! It is ever so diverting. There is Miss Emma Woodhouse, you see, she—” Miss Dillingham began, her manner growing more animated.

Edward strolled beside her with his full attention on something quite different. He thought about observing the lady
gardener at Conduit Street. Her brown eyes were honestly the only feature he could study. She had covered the lower half of her face with a strip of linen and covered her hair under the hat.

“Mr. Elton finds it easier to speak to Miss Woodhouse than to Miss Smith, which is quite understandable once one understands what great esteem he has for the heroine of the story. I believe he’s a bit shy, the poor man.” Miss Dillingham sighed with some pleasure. “Indeed, Mr. Elton cannot bring himself to openly gaze at or smile upon Miss Smith.”

Louise Vernon, on the other hand, had the most delightful smile. Edward had not taken much notice of her eyes because he had been distracted by her smile. She had been an advocate for his single state. She spoke her mind, agreeing with him for the most part. She was his companion and for a few hours this afternoon, his coconspirator. Was there any other similarity that could reassure him?

“…and Mr. Elton’s riddle was really very clever,” Miss Dillingham continued. “Miss Woodhouse had to help Miss Smith decipher it. Oh, what a puzzle it was!”

That’s exactly what this was…a puzzle. He wasn’t certain how he would go about proving Lady Vernon and the gardener were one in the same without asking her outright, which for some reason he did not think the best course of action. In that instant, he knew it did not matter who the lady was, for his feelings for her had solidified, and he had experienced a complete and sudden change of heart.

His admiration for one and his gratefulness to the other had somehow altered into an emotion far stronger. Then it hit him.

He
loved
her.

It was a silly thing to admit for someone his age, but Edward knew, without a doubt, she was the only woman who could fill the void in his heart.

“Come now, Lady Vernon,” Lady Gelsthorpe entreated. “Let us not linger after the Duke. He and Euphemia need to be private.”

Louise’s gaze, and momentary grief, lingered after him. Not because she had regretted her own loss of privacy but because she had failed him.

“Let us head in this direction.” Lady Gelsthorpe indicated a parallel path, at a safe distance apart where she could still watch the couple and remain undetected. “It is well-known His Grace is in search of a wife, and dear Euphemia would make a splendid duchess.”…
with
our
help
went unsaid.

The Duke could no more refuse the Dowager Countess than Louise could. Actually, no one would dare make the attempt unless they were royalty. The King or Queen would succeed, and perhaps even the Prince Regent might prove successful.

“Is that not the Duke’s daughter?” Louise gestured to their left, and there was Augusta waving to her relatives, looking as if she were making her farewell. Augusta saw Louise and approached.

“Are we acquainted?” Lady Gelsthorpe might have raised her lorgnette had she been wearing it. “You seem very familiar to
us
.”

“
Are we acquainted?
No.” Augusta smiled and curtsied. Louise could not understand why tension seemed to have suddenly filled the air, lending an even chillier atmosphere than the drizzly, gray afternoon.

“
We
have not had the pleasure of an introduction, I think.”

“Allow me to do so now.” Louise made the proper introductions.

“So you are the Duke’s eldest daughter?” Lady Gelsthorpe drew her deep-violet-colored skirts close to her, or was she drawing away from Augusta?

Augusta nodded that she was.

“
We
had noticed His Grace’s marked interest in Miss Dillingham, my goddaughter, since their introduction last night. Now he accompanies her down the path. How well they look together, do you not agree?”

“Yes. Oh, yes, indeed,” Augusta remarked in an amused and knowing way.

Louise had noticed no such thing. Perhaps she did not wish to see it. Miss Dillingham was very pretty…and young. Why would His Grace not find her delightful company? Perhaps she would change his mind about marrying again.

“It is regretful but
we
must leave you both before the couple strays too far.” The imperious wave of her hand conjured one of her footmen, who came immediately to lend his escort.

“Good day to you, then, my lady.” Augusta sounded far more pleased by the Dowager’s departure than by the greeting a moment before. With a shallow curtsy and the nod of her head, Louise bid the Dowager Countess farewell.

Lady Gelsthorpe had not quite rushed away, but in a matter of a few strides had fled their company.

“I thought you were walking with Papa?” Augusta whispered to Louise.

“We came upon my lady and Miss Dillingham.” Louise glanced over her shoulder, looking where she had seen them last, in the opposite direction from which Lady Gelsthorpe had gone. “His Grace could not avoid escorting her goddaughter.”

“Oh, that odious creature!” No one around them heard Augusta’s muffled outburst. “There is nothing for it.” With an exhale she regained her composure.

“I do not have a claim on your father,” Louise reminded her friend. “Your father was merely doing me a kindness.”

“I should say not. I daresay he had no more wish to escort her than I have keeping Lady Gelsthorpe’s company.” By the slight
narrowing of her eyes and sharp intake of breath it was clear that, again, Augusta had controlled her emotions. “I have just left my aunts, Louise, and you will never guess what they’ve told me.”

Louise had no notion to delay the news and had in mind she would not interrupt. She gazed at Augusta with interest.

“Lord Fieldstone is betrothed to Miss Shrope.”

“Lord Brent’s Miss Shrope?” Louise had heard some gossip regarding the two. How he had courted her: the dances, the drives in the Park, and the tokens of his—it sounded to her—very great esteem for the young lady. “How disappointed your brother will be when he learns of Miss Shrope’s engagement. I know he called on her often. He must have been quite fond of her.”

“One could think so. I believe Freddie might grieve the loss of Lord Fieldstone even more than of the lady.” Augusta leaned closer and whispered, “Freddie’s attention was not for Miss Shrope but for Lady Shrope on our father’s behalf.”

“Oh!” came Louise’s shocked reply. “Lord Brent could not treat Miss Shrope in such an ill-feeling manner.”

“I believe it was an arrangement between them.”

“Do not say so!” The notion they both had a match in mind for their parent was…was…unthinkable. How horrible it was that one could not even trust one’s own children! What was the world coming to?

“Yes, Freddie will regret the match, there is no doubt about that. He and Lord Fieldstone have spent a great deal of time together of late.” Augusta shook her head as if in recollection. “I am glad his lordship has finally found someone. He’s not an easy man to please, you know, and he hardly ever smiles.”

“Surely you jest.” Louise chuckled. “Everyone smiles.”

“Oh, no, not he. I know for a fact that he takes his matrimonial matters quite seriously. I’m afraid Freddie will have to find another best pal for making mischief.”

Louise wasn’t quite sure what Augusta meant by
mischief
. Lord Brent must certainly be as upstanding as his father, as his sisters, as his whole family.

“I think I have had just about enough of this.” Augusta shivered and pulled the collar of her pelisse tighter around her neck. “I’m tired of standing in the cold.”

“We could walk and warm ourselves,” Louise suggested.

“No, I want to sit indoors with a hot cup of tea. I cannot tolerate this any longer.” Stamping her feet, Augusta motioned for Louise to follow her. “I do believe my feet are numb. Let us remove to Worth House and sit by the fire.”

“What about your brother and your father? Did you not arrive with them?”

“I suspect Freddie’s run off in a miff after hearing of Lord Fieldstone’s match, and Papa…” The twinkle in Augusta’s eye could have been sparked by any number of causes. “I say let this be a lesson to him. I shall steal you from under his nose. How shabby of him to have abandoned you in the midst of your tour of the gardens.”

“He hardly abandoned me.” Stepping out with Miss Dillingham had not been the Duke’s idea.

“Oh, I think he has.” Augusta nodded, indicating the couple in the distance. “Look at them, see how far away they are. He is the one who leads them, not Miss Dillingham, I am sure.”

“Perhaps he admires her?” Louise did not wish to be caught staring, yet she had the oddest feeling. It really was none of her business what the Duke did or to whom he paid particular attention. And what was the harm of that? Shouldn’t that please Augusta, who wished to find a new wife for her father?

The Duke of Faraday was kind, agreeable, and handsome. If Miss Dillingham conversed with him for any length of time, she would learn that he was intelligent as well as thoughtful, and
could be wounded. The man had feelings, and as Louise knew, he was just as vulnerable as the next person.

He was truly a man any woman could hold in great esteem, as she found herself admiring him. Goodness…perhaps she should not have admitted that, even only to herself.

An uncomfortable sensation stirred inside Louise. She should not dwell on her private insight upon the Duke. It was disgraceful the way she came about it, masquerading as a servant, no less. Louise needed to forget their improper interaction. Perhaps his supposed
attraction
to Miss Dillingham was not a bad thing. She could keep him company instead of Louise and there would be no further chance of the Duke learning of her masquerade.

Once Louise and Augusta arrived at Worth House, they moved directly to the fire for warmth. They stood before it for a good many minutes in silence, allowing their extremities to thaw. Despite the hot brick under their feet during their coach ride, the moist, cool air had quite chilled the two women to the bone. A tea tray, along with ginger biscuits and small orange-flavored sponge cakes, arrived in due course.