Wagered to the Duke (BookStrand Publishing Romance) (2 page)

Kate simply stared back, her heart racing.

“Well?” the matron prodded.

“Why do you keep looking at me?” Kate asked. “What makes you think
I’m
Miss Baxter? At least I assume that’s why you’re glaring at me as if I might be guilty of something—like being Miss Baxter, though I wonder why that would be a crime.”

The stout matron planted her fists on her hips. “You look like a governess.”

Exasperation rattled through Kate. “Because I’m dressed all in gray? Because I wear spectacles? Because I look as if I could never be anything
but
a governess? Well, that’s where you’re absolutely wrong, Miss—Mrs.?”

The matron dropped her arms to her sides. “Well, mayhap you’re not Miss Baxter, after all, or you’d know my name. I am Mrs. Peck, Mr. Throckmorton’s housekeeper.”

“And I,” Kate said slowly, just so there would be no further misunderstanding about this, “am Miss Margaret Hathaway.”

In the very brief heartbeat of silence that followed, she thought she heard the real Miss Hathaway gulp.

Mrs. Peck nodded. “I beg your pardon for the misunderstanding, Miss Hathaway. I’m here to fetch a Miss Katherine Baxter who is to be the new governess for his children.”

Kate immediately glanced at Meg. “Miss Baxter?”

She held her breath as Meg seemed to hesitate before slowly rising from the settle. “I am Miss Baxter.”

Mrs. Peck swept her skeptical gaze over Meg from the flower-decked crown of her poke bonnet to the hem of her blue pelisse, and then back up to her face.

“Oh dear, not another one,” Mrs. Peck muttered. “Miss Baxter, please tell me you’ve only been crying, or even that you have a bad cold. Not that I wish to see any of Mr. Throckmorton’s children catch something, but we had to sack the last governess because she tippled and always looked red-nosed and red-eyed just like you.”

“I can assure you, Mrs. Peck, that I do not imbibe spirits,” Meg declared. “I have simply been shedding a few tears because—because—”

“Because I was telling her a very sad story about a very young woman whose scapegrace brother had the utter temerity to wager his own sister in a game of cards,” Kate put in.

Mrs. Peck regarded Kate with wide eyes. “You don’t say?”

“I do say. And he lost! So to make good on her ne’er-do-well brother’s debt, she had to leave her home and go to the scoundrel who won—even though she was about to receive an offer of marriage from a more suitable prospect, a young man with whom she was in love, who couldn’t arrive from Bath in time to claim her before the scoundrel did.”

“Lawks, but that’s a very sad story, indeed!” Mrs. Peck exclaimed.

“Pathetic, is it not? Positively pitiful.”

Meg gestured to Kate. “I was just telling Miss—Miss—”

“Hathaway,” Kate supplied.

“Yes, Miss Hathaway here that I would rather be a governess than suffer such a disgrace.”

“And a governess you shall be, Miss Baxter,” the housekeeper assured her. “Come with me, then, our gig is outside. Have you any baggage?”

“There in the corner, with my maid.”

“Your maid?” Mrs. Peck regarded said maid as if she were a stray mongrel Meg had thought to rescue en route to her new post. “And what would you be needing with a maid, Miss Baxter? Mayhap you’re too high in the instep to be a governess.” She certainly looked it.

“I needed a chaperone.”

“Well, you’ll not need a chaperone anymore. That’s why I came here with the coachman.” She raised her voice to bellow at the parlor door. “Dinkins!”

As if he’d been just outside awaiting her summons, the door suddenly opened to reveal a burly man who must have been Dinkins.

Mrs. Peck pointed a stubby finger at the portmanteau next to the maid. “That there. Come along, Miss Baxter.”

“Oh, but what about my maid?”

“Send her back to Bellingham Hall.”

Meg looked nonplussed at that before casting a final, grateful glance at Kate. “Thank you, Miss—Miss—”

“Hathaway,” Kate said quickly.

As Dinkins heaved up the portmanteau and carried it out the door, Mrs. Peck said to Meg, “I hope you have no trouble remembering names, Miss Baxter, as you will have six charges to mind.”

“Good luck to you, Miss Baxter,” Kate called after. “And remember—never give up hope.”

Mrs. Peck threw her a suspicious scowl. “Hope for what?”

“Hope that she’ll remember the children’s names and be able to tell them apart.”

And on that note, the real Miss Hathaway departed to a new life while Kate was about to embark on one of her own. As she plopped back down on the settle, it finally occurred to her to wonder just what the devil she’d gotten herself into.

* * * *

As the new Duke of Loring, Nathan Fraser could now have any woman he wanted—and he was not about to choose a bride from his pile of winnings at a gaming table.

His coachman opened the carriage door, tugging on his forelock as Nathan stepped out and glanced around the inn yard. He watched as a well-dressed young woman in a blue pelisse and charming flowered bonnet followed a stout matron toward a nearby gig.

He entered the Blue Rooster and inquired after Mr. Frederick Hathaway.

“If there’s such a man here, he’d be in the taproom,” the innkeeper replied.

“See if he’s there, please,” Nathan said. “Is there a quiet room where I can meet with him?” And punch him in the jaw for doing something so reprehensible to his sister.

The innkeeper gestured to a door opposite the one leading to the taproom. “There’s a parlor this way. Who shall I say is summoning him?”

“Nathan Fraser, from Edinburgh.” Even though he’d been a duke since his half brother’s death last summer, he had yet to accustom himself to it, still referring to himself by his Christian name without a second thought.

Under the circumstances, it was probably just as well. The innkeeper might have raised a terrific fuss that Nathan did not need. He just wanted to get this over with and continue to London.

Truthfully, he wanted to go back to Edinburgh, but newly inherited duties called.

He entered the parlor to find two women standing in the middle of the room, just in time to hear one of them wail, “But I don’t want to go to London!”

“Have you ever even been to London? A better life awaits you there, especially in the household of a duke.”

One of these women must be the hapless Miss Hathaway, probably the tearful one, in which case the other must be her abigail. She certainly looked the part. She was clad from head to toe in a dull pigeon gray, she wore spectacles, and she was berating her charge to tears.

Yet the other woman, clearly younger, prettier, and more buxom, was even more plainly dressed in a mobcap and cloak that fell over either side of two ample breasts that looked ready to drop out of her blouse. She let out another long wail that rivaled any set of bagpipes.

“Oh, do stop it,” said the bespectacled woman. “One would think
you
were the one who’d been wagered to—” She abruptly paused as she spotted him in the doorway, her face a picture of astonishment as she whispered, “—the duke.”

If only she knew, but she never would if he had anything to do with it. He cleared his throat. “I beg your pardon, but I didn’t mean to startle you. Would one of you be Miss Hathaway?”

Her face, surrounded by the dreary bonnet and partially obscured by the spectacles, seemed pale as she said, “I would be Miss Hathaway.”

This
was the woman Hathaway had wagered? Nathan almost felt relief that she wasn’t younger, prettier, and more buxom. He certainly felt relief that he wouldn’t have to take her to London or even back to Edinburgh.

He finally crossed the threshold into the parlor and sketched a bow. “I am—that is, I represent the Duke of Loring. Nathan Fraser, at your service, Miss Hathaway.”

She stared at him for a long moment, as if she didn’t quite believe what she was seeing, or even hearing.

“At
my
service?” she finally said. “I thought I was here to be at the duke’s service. Speaking of which, just what does His Grace have in mind for me?”

Nathan had not been expecting such a strident demeanor. “As a matter of fact, he has nothing in mind for you. It should please you to know that in his boundless benevolence—”

She snorted. He supposed he was doing it just a little too brown, but really, how many men, dukes or otherwise, would do what he was about to do?

Then again, maybe all of them would upon meeting this spitfire.

He finished his sentence. “The duke is willing to forgive your brother’s debt.”

Her eyes widened behind the spectacles, and her mouth fell open, but no sound came out.

“You seem speechless with joy,” he remarked with a smile.

She took a step back and shook her head, her eyes and mouth still agape.

“That’s all,” he said. “So you needn’t fret anymore, Miss Hathaway. You can go back to the life you thought you’d have to leave behind, and carry on as if none of this had ever happened.”

He hadn’t thought it possible, but her eyes and mouth opened wider yet. And why was she shaking her head?

“Miss Hathaway, let me say it again. You are free to return home to your old life. You don’t even have to thank me.”

“No,” she blurted.

He furrowed his brow. “I beg your pardon?”

She stiffened and clenched her fists. “I did not come this far and go to all this trouble and do what I did only to be told I can go back to my old life and carry on as if none of this had ever happened. If I must do that, then I most certainly will not thank you for it, Mr. Fraser. I mean to honor Mr. Hathaway’s debt, and that means you will take me to the duke.”

Nathan thought quickly. “He’s all the way in London.” Or he soon would be, barring any further delays and distractions like card games that resulted in him “winning” a strange woman.

“Then take me to London. It’s not out of your way, is it?”

Nathan had not expected this, either. “Are you quite out of your mind?”

“Mr. Hathaway wagers his own sister in a card game and loses her to a duke, and you think I’m the one who’s out of my mind?”

“Perhaps it’s a family trait.”

“How do I know the duke wants to forgive the debt? Why should I take your word for it? I don’t suppose you have anything to prove you’re his man of affairs?”

“If you’re that skeptical of me, Miss Hathaway, then perhaps you shouldn’t trust me to take you to London. I have no wish to waste any more of your time. Or, for that matter, my own. The duke sent me to inform you and your brother that he forgives the debt, and that he hopes your brother will conduct himself with greater decorum in the future.”

“I wouldn’t be so sure about that. He still has three other sisters. Give him enough time and rope, and he’ll wager them all soon enough.”

Nathan didn’t doubt it. “But if he loses them all, it may well be to men who won’t be willing to forgive the debt.”

“Then allow me to stand as a warning to him that he should never do this again, Mr. Fraser. It’s high time he learned his lesson—
and perhaps His Grace needs to be taught one as well. You will take me back to London.”

Aye, that would teach him to step into this parlor and present himself to this prickly, little thistle.
“Miss Hathaway, there is no need for me to take you to London if the duke has forgiven the debt.”

“Do you have anything in writing from the duke that states he has forgiven the debt?”

Bloody hell. He didn’t think he’d need to present such a document. He’d assumed that just his word would be enough for this hoyden.

Maybe his word would be enough if he told her that he was, in fact, the duke. But would she believe him? The duke’s signet ring was packed away in his baggage, and he wasn’t exactly dressed in the first stare of fashion. Even his equipage was more suited to a duke’s man of affairs than to a duke. Perhaps, once she saw it, she would change her mind.

“I’m afraid His Grace neglected to give me such a document,” he said ruefully.

She tilted her head to one side. “Upon my word, but what sort of duke is he?”

“The sort who only became duke a few months ago, so you might say he’s still learning all the little intricacies that go into being a duke. Like providing documentation that certifies your brother’s debt is hereby forgiven.”

“Actually, isn’t that your
job?” she countered. “You are
his man of affairs, aren’t you? That’s what a man of affairs does. He’s a
man
who oversees the duke’s
affairs.
Honestly, Mr. Fraser, it’s not astronomy or mathematics—it’s a very simple, apt term. But to be a man of affairs means he—which is to say you—are responsible for drawing up and presenting the document in question.”

Nathan was rapidly starting to regret he’d ever set foot in this parlor.

“Oh, don’t tell me,” she said. “You’ve only been his man of affairs for a few months yourself, so one might say
you’re
still learning all the little intricacies that go into being one.”

“I’m afraid you have the right of it, Miss Hathaway,” he answered. “Now if you’ll excuse me, I believe I will step into the taproom and see if I can’t find your brother myself. The innkeeper seems to have lost his way.”

As he turned to quit the parlor, he thought he understood why her ne’er-do-well brother sought to unload her at the gaming table. At the time Nathan had thought that Frederick Hathaway didn’t know an ace of spades from a queen of hearts. Now he wondered if the fop wasn’t extraordinarily adept at bluffing and had thrown the game and lost on purpose just to be rid of his sister.

So it should have come as no surprise that when he entered the lobby, he did so just in time for the innkeeper to emerge from the taproom and say, “Oh, there you are, Mr. Fraser. I’m afraid Mr. Hathaway is no longer here.”

“But he was supposed to meet me here at this hour.”

“The barkeep says Mr. Hathaway gave him an extra shilling to show him out the back way.”