The Unexpected Duchess (14 page)

“Thank you for having us, Aunt,” Lucy replied.

“Oh, it’s Garrett’s house now, not mine.” The shadow of sorrow passed briefly over her face. Aunt Mary had been a widow for over two years, since Uncle Charles had passed away.

Garrett had just finished taking a sip of tea. “Mother, it’s as much yours as mine.”

Aunt Mary patted her son’s hand. “Such a good boy. I’m lucky to have you.”

Lucy smiled. How she wished she and her own mother could have a relationship like that. Or she and her father, for that matter. Her parents had long ago given up hope for her to make a decent match and mostly stayed in the countryside lamenting the fact that Garrett would one day inherit all their lands and Father’s title. It was sad, really. When they might all be a big happy family. As if those existed.

Aunt Mary clapped her hands, calling Lucy’s attention back to the drawing room. “There is to be a grand ball just two nights hence at the Upper Assembly Rooms. It’s certain to be a great deal of fun.”

“Excellent,” Garrett said.

“Looking forward to it,” Lucy replied.

“Me too,” Jane offered, though no one truly believed her.

Cass seemed less than enthusiastic, but she managed a small smile when Aunt Mary insisted that she would go and have a grand time.

“And Mrs. Periwinkle told me that the Duke of Claringdon has just rented a house on Uphill Drive.”

Cass’s eyes looked a bit fearful. Lucy crossed her arms over her chest. “Yes, we heard he’d be coming, too.”

“Ooh, how did you know, dear?” Aunt Mary asked, sitting on the edge of her seat as if the duke’s comings and goings were of the utmost importance to her.

Lucy took a sip of her tea. “He told us himself.”

Aunt Mary nearly toppled from her seat. “You spoke to the duke?”

“Yes,” Lucy replied. “He’s been attempting to court Cass.”

Aunt Mary looked as if she was tempted to throw her teacup in the air. Her eyes were as wide as the saucer. She clutched at her chest. “The
Duke of Claringdon
is courting our Cassandra?”

Cass shook her head fervently. “Oh, not really. Not—”

“He’s
attempting
to,” Lucy repeated. “Cass, however, is not interested.”

If Aunt Mary were the type to have an apoplectic fit, surely it would be well under way by now. She’d somehow managed to retrieve a fan from a wrinkle in her skirts and was fanning herself at a pace that made Lucy worry for her wrist; indeed, her entire arm. “What? Not interested in the Duke of Claringdon? How is that possible?” She stared at Cass as if she were a mythological creature who’d just flown through the window out of the pages of a storybook.

Cass’s face flushed pink. “He’s only paid a call or two.”

“Don’t forget you went riding in the park,” Jane chimed in, stuffing her second tea biscuit in her mouth.

Cass nodded. “Yes. We also went riding in the park.”

“We’ve been trying to rid ourselves of him, actually,” Lucy added, unsuccessfully attempting to keep the pique from her voice. “But he insisted on following us to Bath.”

“He’s come here for you!” That was it. Aunt Mary might very well have an apoplectic fit after all. Lucy wondered if Cass traveled with smelling salts. A fainting spell seemed imminent.

“No. No. He wanted to see the town. He’s never been,” Cass assured her, squirming in her seat.

“Cassandra, you’re being modest.” Garrett’s voice was quiet and calm. “The duke appears to be quite taken with you.”

Cass plucked at the folds in her butter-colored gown. She wouldn’t meet his eyes.

“You know what I think?” Jane piped up. She’d just finished her last tea biscuit and dabbed at her lips with the edge of her napkin.

“No, what?” Garrett asked, a smirk on his face.

Jane completely ignored him. “I think
Lucy
is better suited for the duke than Cass.”

For the first time since they’d begun speaking of the duke, Cass had a happy look on her face. “Oh, I quite agree.”

“Furthermore, I think she
may
actually be a bit interested in him,” Jane added, a small smile on her lips.

Lucy went hot and cold. She snapped up her head and blinked at her friends. “The duke? Me? Interested in the duke? I most certainly am not.”

Jane pursed her lips as if she were about to whistle and took a small sip of tea. “Are you quite certain?”

Cass nodded. “I have to admit, I’ve had the same thought a time or two.”

Garrett crossed his arms over his chest and sat back in his chair. A bark of laughter followed. “Lucy and the duke. Now, there’s a thought. How do you like that, Your Grace?”

Lucy set her teacup down with a clatter. She didn’t know what to do with her hands. She settled for folding them in her lap. “You are all being absolutely ridiculous. There is no one I admire less than the Duke of Claringdon.”

“Oh, yes, he’s only a handsome, wealthy, war-hero duke,” Jane said, fluttering a hand in the air. “What’s to admire?”

Lucy narrowed her eyes at her friend. “If he’s so magnificent, why don’t you pursue him?”

Jane laughed at that. “An overbearing controlling soldier? Not my sort. He is, however,
your
sort.”

Lucy’s mouth dropped open. “Preposterous. I don’t have a sort.”

“Don’t you? He’s just like you,” Garrett chimed in.

Lucy made a mental note to kick her cousin the next time they were out of eyesight from her darling aunt. In the meantime, she counted ten and picked up her teacup again. She refused to allow her friends to bait her any longer. They were just teasing her, after all, and she’d got a bit too ruffled about it. But as she sipped her tea she couldn’t help but think of what Jane had said. The duke was just like her, was he? Gulp.

CHAPTER TWENTY-TWO

The Upper Assembly Rooms took Lucy’s breath away. They always had. Since the first time she’d seen the magnificent ballroom when she was eighteen. So formal and grand with sweeping high ceilings, frescoed walls, and sparkling chandeliers. Bath was a place for holidays, and while some found it too sleepy for any true amusement, Lucy had always loved the quiet intimacy of the town. She and Garrett had spent many happy days here. Lolling about on the grass in the Upper Crescent, taking tea at the Pump Room, exploring the Roman ruins, and riding through the hilly countryside. Bath was lovely. And a ball at the Assembly Rooms was always delightful. Except, that was, when the Duke of Claringdon appeared.

Cass had accompanied them. They’d managed to cajole and convince her. She wasn’t in mourning, strictly speaking. Julian was not related to her. Not to mention the fact that the man had not yet died to her knowledge, but she was heartbroken nonetheless. It took more than a bit of convincing to get her to agree to come with them. She knew she had to put on a happy face for Society and pretend to enjoy herself, but she turned down every dance—and that included the one that the duke requested.

Lucy wore a pretty sapphire-colored gown and a strand of pearls, while Jane wore a light-blue high-waisted gown and a matching gold pendant. Cass looked radiant as ever in a lavender-colored gown with diamonds around her neck and entwined through her hair.

“He’s here,” Jane whispered once they’d made the rounds at the ball and had a chance to see who was in attendance. She motioned with her chin over to the opposite side of the room where the duke stood apparently holding court with his latest set of admirers in a new town.

“I honestly didn’t believe he’d do it until I saw him here tonight.” Lucy shook her head.

“He told you he intended to come, didn’t he?” Jane replied.

“Yes, but—” Lucy bit the tip of her finger. “The nerve of that man. It shouldn’t surprise me, but it does.”

Garrett took a sip of the drink he held in his hand. “I, for one, applaud him.”

Lucy glared at her cousin. “You cannot possibly mean that.”

Garrett smiled. “On the contrary, I do. He knows what he wants and is intent upon winning it.”

Jane rolled her eyes. “You’re talking about our Cass, not some trophy.”

Garrett took another sip. “I simply mean that his tenacity is to be commended.”

“I think it’s positively dreadful,” Lucy said. “His following her here is the last thing Cass needs. Especially so soon after the news about Julian.”

“He’s coming over,” Jane whispered.

Lucy sighed. “Of course he is.”

“Miss Lowndes, now might be the perfect time to ask you to dance with me,” Garrett said, handing off his empty glass to a passing footman.

“Are you asking or telling me you should ask?” Jane replied sweetly.

“It depends,” Garrett replied.

“Upon what?”

“Upon whether you will say yes.”

Jane cocked her head to the side. “I will, but only because I don’t want to be standing here in the middle of the crossfire when Lucy and the duke go at it. Which is sure to happen any moment now.”

“You flatter me,” Garrett said, sarcasm dripping from his voice.

“You should be flattered. Besides, it was better than Lucy’s response to the duke’s offer to dance,” Jane replied with a snort.

Lucy wrinkled her nose at them. The pair took off to dance just as the duke strolled up. A brandy in one hand, his other shoved negligently in his pocket, he looked nothing if not the debonair nobleman out for a night’s amusement.

He stopped in front of Lucy and Cass. Cass had just finished talking to Aunt Mary, who stood impatiently by their side, clearly waiting for an introduction to the celebrated nobleman. He bowed gallantly to all three of them.

“Lady Cassandra. Lady Lucy.” He straightened to his full height and took another sip. “And this must be your … sister?” He nodded toward Aunt Mary.

Lucy arched a brow in his direction. “This is my aunt, Mrs. Upton. Aunt Mary, the Duke of Claringdon.”

“A pleasure, madam.” The duke bowed over Aunt Mary’s hand while she blushed a bright shade of pink.

“It’s so lovely to meet you, Your Grace,” Aunt Mary twittered.

Cass executed a perfect curtsy of her own but Lucy just glared at him. “Your Grace. I see you made it to Bath safely,” she managed to choke out. And that only because she’d promised Cass she’d attempt to be civil.

“No doubt to your chagrin, Miss Upton,” the duke replied in his usual haughty tone.

Lucy opened her mouth to issue a scathing retort but Cass elbowed her, so she managed to utter something useless and untrue about it being nice to see him.

“Lady Cassandra, would you do me the honor?” the duke asked, gesturing toward the dancing.

Cass shook her head. “I’m ever so sorry, but I find that I’m not quite up for dancing this evening, Your Grace.”

“A pity.” He inclined his head in acknowledgment and took another sip of brandy. “Are you certain you won’t reconsider?”

Cass nodded this time. “I’m quite certain.”

“If you change your mind—”

That was it. Lucy snapped. “She said she was not interested.” Lucy was already incensed by the fact that the man had followed them to Bath; now he was here badgering Cass when she clearly didn’t care to dance.

“Lucy!” Aunt Mary’s tone was admonishing but Lucy couldn’t help herself, not even for her beloved aunt.

The duke’s mouth quirked up. “I don’t suppose I could interest
you
in a dance, could I, Lady Lucy?”

He was taunting her. She could see it in the flash of his green eyes. But she would not allow him to rile her. She was just about to open her mouth to tell him no in the most inventive way she could possibly muster when the thought occurred to her that she did, indeed, have something to say to him and perhaps a dance would be the most opportune time to do so.

“I should be flattered,” she said, in a tone that sounded anything but. “I’ve washed my wig, and Jane’s already claimed the title of Queen of the Wallflowers here tonight.”

The duke didn’t miss a beat. He bowed to Cass and Aunt Mary to excuse himself, discarded his brandy glass on a nearby table, and pulled Lucy onto the dance floor. The two ladies watched them go.

They had barely gone one turn when Lucy said, “How are you enjoying Bath, Your Grace? Decided upon buying property yet?”

“As a matter of fact, I have. I’ve found I’m quite taken with the town.”

“Oh, wonderful, perhaps we can all have group holidays here in the future. That would be delightful, would it not? Given our history?” She innocently batted her eyelashes at him.

The duke stared Lucy straight in the eye. “Oh, no you don’t. Look. I know you don’t like me being here one bit, but what happened between us was a mistake and is in the past and we cannot change it. I—”

Lucy nearly tripped. Her jaw dropped open. “You honestly think I don’t like you being here because of that kiss?” She lowered her voice so others wouldn’t hear and glanced about. It appeared to be safe.

He arched a brow. “That’s not why?”

“No, actually. It has nothing to do with it. I’d quite forgotten about that kiss.” No she hadn’t, but no sense feeding his arrogance with the fact that she couldn’t seem to
stop
thinking about it.

“Then am I to assume your objection to me remains whatever your original objection was? Not that I ever knew
that
reasoning.”

Lucy set her jaw. “Don’t you see that Cass is upset?”

He looked at a loss for words. “Upset?”

“Yes. She’s just received some very bad news. Her dear friend. A man. A soldier. A captain. He was injured in battle and has yet to return. She received word this week that he won’t be coming back. He is the man she loves.”

“He died?” The duke’s voice was soft, respectful.

Lucy nodded, once. “He’s dying. She expects to receive word any day now.”

The duke’s face was grim. “I know what it’s like to lose men, good friends in battle. My own closest friend was gravely wounded over there. I’m sorry for her loss.”

“Then you might consider being considerate of her feelings and leaving her alone.”

“Regardless of what you may think of me, my lady, I don’t particularly relish chasing about a woman who doesn’t seem particularly interested in me.”

Lucy didn’t meet his eyes. “You might have fooled me.”