Chapter THREE
Two hours earlier
Derek Hunt scanned the crowded ballroom brimming with sparkling ladies wearing the latest fashions and their gallant escorts wearing high-necked cravats. Laughter, champagne, dancing, and revelry filled the large room. Derek straightened his own cravat and slid a hand into his pocket. He swallowed hard. Had it really only been a fortnight since he’d laid his hand on his dying friend’s shoulder on a blood-soaked battlefield outside Brussels? Swift hadn’t died. Not yet. But he expected the news at any moment. And here Derek was. He’d returned to London, been granted a dukedom by the Crown, and was even now in the market for a proper wife. The future mother of his future son. Swift had insisted he go. And Derek had had no choice. He’d had his orders from the War Office, but still, he disgusted himself.
A fortnight ago, Derek hadn’t known whether he’d be alive tonight. Now he was lifting a champagne flute from the gleaming silver tray of a footman bedecked in the finest livery. As if Derek had never stepped foot on the battlefield, never watched as his countrymen were sliced down in front of him, never heard the agonizing screams of his dying friends. In London, the parades and parties given in honor of Napoleon’s defeat were all the rage. And here he was tonight, the celebrated hero, enjoying the victory along with everyone else. As if he’d never seen the real horror of war.
And he was a duke? A bloody duke? It still didn’t feel real to him. Why had he been made a duke above all the other officers? They’d all risked their lives, done their duty, fought honorably. Many had died.
Derek had cut around the outer defense of Napoleon’s ranks. Seeing the opportunity, he’d made the decision in an instant and ordered his soldiers to take the opening. That decision had been a fortuitous one, a turning point in the battle. The Duke of Decisive they were calling him as soon as the reports of the battle floated back to London. Decisive, he was. He’d been made that way, after all.
Derek drew the champagne flute to his lips and took a long swallow. Good stuff, that. French. He smiled at the irony just before narrowing his eyes and scanning the room again. He was no longer in battle, but he still had a goal.
There she was. Lady Cassandra Monroe. Derek’s investiture was dependent on him choosing a wife of whom the Crown approved, and Lady Cassandra Monroe’s reputation and connections were impeccable. She also just happened to be tall, blond, and beautiful. And quiet and demure if Captain Swift had been correct about her temperament. The perfect wife for a man who’d just spent his last years in the upheaval of battlefields. Lady Cassandra Monroe was exactly the type of woman who would ensure that Derek lived his remaining days in peace and quiet. Precisely what he wanted.
But most important, he’d promised Swift. As he’d watched his friend grit his teeth and writhe in pain on the packed earth outside Waterloo, Derek had promised he would find Lady Cassandra and marry her.
And Derek Hunt, whether lieutenant general or duke, never went back on a promise to a friend.
* * *
Lady Lucy Upton stood on the sidelines of the ballroom tapping her slipper in time to the music. It wasn’t as much of a lark as being at the theater—few things were—but she did love music and she adored dancing. She sighed. She hadn’t been asked to dance in an age, but that didn’t keep her from enjoying the tune.
“Why do you think he’s staring at me that way?” Cass glanced skittishly in the direction of the newly minted Duke of Claringdon.
Lucy stopped tapping her foot and followed her friend’s gaze. “I’m not certain, exactly. But he does seem to be pinning you with his eyes. Not exactly a gentleman, the duke.”
Cass dared another glance. “I must admit he is handsome. But he doesn’t have Julian’s blond hair.” She sighed.
Lucy glanced over at the duke. He was standing by the Grecian column in the middle of the crowded ballroom. She narrowed her eyes. Very well. Cass was right. The Duke of Claringdon was handsome. More than handsome, actually. Spectacularly handsome. He was also huge. Soaring and muscled, he looked like the god of war come down from Olympus. He was well over six feet tall, had midnight-black hair and jade-green eyes, wide shoulders that tapered to a flat abdomen, and muscles from top to toe. A war hero to boot. A lieutenant general known for his decisiveness. He’d won a variety of battles over the last few years and had been sent to meet Wellington in Brussels just before Waterloo. The Duke of Decisive, they called him now.
He was also arrogant and commanding, they said. Which, Lucy was certain, was quite an asset on the field of war, but his way, at the moment, involved making her friend nervous.
And for that, Lucy would not stand. Lucy, bold, blunt, completely without a demure bone in her body, had only two friends in this world—well, three if you counted Garrett—and Cass was one of them. Elegant, modest Cass who was too friendly and kind to rebuff anyone. Yes, Cass had always been quietly loyal to Lucy, and Lucy was nothing if not loyal back. If Cass wanted to avoid the attentions of the Duke of Claringdon, well, Lucy would assist her in any way she was able.
“How do you suppose he managed to have such a golden glow to his skin?” Cass asked, stealing another surreptitious glance at the duke.
Lucy wrinkled her nose and shrugged. “I heard he was on holiday in Italy just before he was called back to battle. Apparently his last mistress was Italian.” She stole another glance herself.
Yes, the duke was powerful and more handsome than he had a right to be. And the whole war-hero bit didn’t diminish his appeal, but he came from a completely unknown family—and most important, Lucy wasn’t about to allow him to bully Cass. And something told her that the duke had set his sights on her friend.
Lucy didn’t exactly blame him. Who wouldn’t love Cass? Why, she’d had more offers than you could count. And she’d refused them all. Yes. Cass had managed to remain unattached for the last five seasons, waiting for her precious Julian to return from the war. Which would have been a splendid idea. The only problem was that Julian was all but betrothed to Cass’s cousin Penelope. As soon as Julian returned from the Continent, he and Penelope planned to formally announce their engagement and marry.
“Lady Chambers introduced me to him earlier,” Cass said, referring to their hostess. “She told Mama the duke had specifically asked to meet me.”
Lucy raised both brows. “What did he say to you when you were introduced?”
“Nothing out of the ordinary,” Cass replied. “It was just the way he looked at me. As if he was examining me. I didn’t like it. I told Mama so.”
Lucy snorted and then clapped her hand over her mouth to stifle the unladylike noise. “And what did your mama say?”
“She said I should be flattered.” Cass bit her lip.
Lucy rolled her eyes and tapped her foot in time to the music again. “Of course she did. He’s a duke. An incomparable catch as far as your mother is concerned, no matter who his family is. His just glancing in your direction has probably got her planning your wedding trousseau.”
“He frightens me,” Cass whispered. “He’s just so big and he looks as if he could kill a man with his bare hands.”
Lucy patted Cass’s shoulder. “I know, dear.” She glanced back at the duke. She didn’t want to make things worse by suggesting to Cass that he probably had killed men, a great many of them, with his bare hands. Lucy had no doubts. But he didn’t scare her. Not one bit.
Cass tugged on her gloves. “When he looks at me, I want to shrink back against the wall.”
Lucy had just opened her mouth to offer some additional comforting words when their third friend, Jane, came hurrying up. Jane had chestnut-brown hair, wide brown eyes that were framed by a pair of silver-rimmed spectacles, and a lovely face that she usually kept buried in a book. Despite Jane’s desire to remain unattached, Jane’s mother dutifully dressed her up and trotted her out at every ball every Season, hoping her bookish bluestocking of a daughter would eventually catch some gentleman’s eye. She never did. Which is precisely how Jane liked it.
Jane reluctantly spent her time at these affairs badly pretending to enjoy herself, famously scribbling notes for her future books, and biding the time until she grew old enough that her mother would give up and allow her to remain at home in peace.
And that was why, at the ripe old age of twenty-three, Cass, Lucy, and Jane were all solidly on the shelf.
“What’s happening?” Jane asked, slipping into line beside the two of them.
Still tapping her foot, Lucy shrugged. “I’m enjoying the music, and Cass here is hiding from a duke.”
Jane’s head snapped to the side. “A duke?”
“The Duke of Claringdon,” Cass replied in a hushed whisper. “He’s watching me.”
Jane snuck a glance at the duke. “Ooh, he is watching you. Who knew he’d be so large? And handsome? I expected him to have scars, perhaps be missing an ear or something.”
Cass slapped at Jane’s light blue sleeve. “Good heavens, that’s positively morbid. You and your writerly imagination.”
Lucy eyed the duke, arms crossed over her chest. “He doesn’t look as if he’s missing anything to me.” She shook herself. “But that’s not the point. If Cass isn’t interested, she isn’t interested.”
“Do not worry,” Jane replied, addressing her remarks to Cass. “Simply tell him so. He’s certain to immediately retreat. Men like him usually have enormous overconfidence that is easily deflated.”
Lucy glanced over at the duke, who was still eyeing Cass like a prize horse. “Something tells me it won’t be that simple. The man seems to be quite used to getting his way.”
Cass was busily smoothing her skirts, her eyes downcast. “Lucy’s right. But even if I wanted to, I couldn’t tell him I’m not interested. I’m not like you, Lucy. When I’m frightened, words completely leave my head. I wish I had a bit of your gift for witty repartee.”
Lucy snorted again. Oh, she might as well completely give up attempting to be ladylike. It just wasn’t in her. “And I wish I had your ability to keep my mouth shut when I ought.”
“It’s easy, truly. You simply have to— Oh good heavens, he’s coming over.” Cass’s voice reached a high note Lucy had never heard before.
“He surely will ask you to dance,” Lucy said, watching the duke’s inexorable advance.
“Just thank him and tell him you’re not in the mood for dancing at present. That should be that,” Jane added with a resolute nod.
“Be bold.” Lucy whispered her most famous bit of advice.
“Easy for you to say,” Cass squeaked.
Lucy squeezed Cass’s shoulder lightly. “We’ll be right here.” She and Jane moved quietly back toward the wall.
Cass took two brave, if shaky, steps forward to meet the duke. Lucy and Jane watched as the two spoke for a few moments—and the next thing Lucy knew, the duke led Cass onto the dance floor. Oh Cass, no. Lucy threw up her hands and turned to Jane. “She really does have a problem saying no to anyone.”
Lucy watched Cass and the duke whirl around the dance floor, Cass with her pretty honey-blond hair and the duke with his striking dark features.
“Poor Cass,” Jane whispered. “If she wasn’t so in love with Julian, she and the duke might make a beautiful couple actually.”
“She’d be miserable with Claringdon,” Lucy replied matter-of-factly. “Besides, I for one say she may well have a chance with Julian when he returns from the Continent.”
Jane arched a brow, giving her a highly skeptical look. “There are plenty of men to choose from. I’ve never understood why Cass is so set on that particular one.”
“She loves him, and I intend to assist Cass in remaining completely unengaged this Season until she can have her chance with Julian at last,” Lucy replied, twisting her mouth into a half smile.
“Why, Luce, I never realized what a romantic you are.” Jane sarcastically batted her eyelashes at her friend.
“Not romantic, merely determined,” Lucy replied with a resolute nod.
Minutes later, when Cass returned from the dance alone, Lucy snatched her into the corner with the two of them.
“What did he say?” Lucy’s own voice took on a high note this time.
Cass’s face was bright pink. She shook her head. “He paid me lovely compliments and said he should like very much to call upon me tomorrow. Oh, what am I going to do? I want to discourage him, but the words just will not come out of my mouth. I simper like a fool when he speaks to me. Not to mention that Mama has insisted that I encourage him. She’s been watching the entire time.”
Lucy and Cass turned their heads simultaneously to see Cass’s mother, Lady Moreland, eyeing them approvingly with a pleasant smile on her plump face. Clearly, the woman had visions of a dukedom dancing in her head.
Jane had pulled a book out of her reticule and was busily reading it, obviously no longer that interested in her friends’ antics. She pushed her spectacles up on her nose and nodded absently toward Lucy and Cass. “It’s too bad you two cannot switch bodies for the evening. I’ve every confidence that Lucy could set the duke back upon his heels in mere seconds.”
Lucy clapped her hands and Jane’s head snapped up from the book.
“That’s it!” Lucy cried.
“What’s it?” Cass asked, her eyes wide.
Lucy rubbed her gloved hands together with glee. “Jane’s perfectly right. Each of us is good at something different, correct?”
Jane eyed Lucy curiously. “I’m not entirely certain I follow.”
Lucy grabbed her friends’ hands. “I’m adept at speaking my mind and being quite blunt. It’s a curse, I know. I’ve never been able to curb my tongue. Mama’s told me often enough. And then of course there was the incident with the queen at my come-out.”
Cass bit her lip. “Yes, that was unfortunate.”
“A memory I rarely dwell upon, I assure you. But I long ago made peace with my reputation and my penchant for forthrightness.”
“Yes, you’re quite good at speaking your mind,” Cass agreed with a nod.
“And you are good at attracting gentlemen and looking stunning and befriending everyone you meet, Cass,” Lucy said.
Cass smiled at that. “I suppose I am.”
Lucy continued, “And Jane is good at—”
“Oh, this I simply cannot wait to hear,” Jane replied with something of a smirk on her face.
“Stop it,” Lucy replied. “You’re good at being exceedingly clever and knowing things none of the rest of us know. Why, if you were allowed to be in Parliament you would have negotiated the peace years ago and would have the taxes set to rights while you were at it.”
“Please tell that to my mother,” Jane said with a laugh. “She doesn’t quite see the merit in all my reading and writing.”
“I still don’t understand, Lucy,” Cass replied, her blue eyes cloudy with confusion.
“Don’t you see?” Lucy said. “We all must help one another. Help one another to get what we want. We’ll each do the thing the others cannot do and assist one another.”
“What do you mean?” Jane asked, looking more interested by the moment.
Lucy smiled brightly. “I want to marry well. I don’t need love or any of that nonsense, but I’m expected to make a decent match, if I can ever find a gentleman whom I can stand that is—” She drew in a breath. “To date, I’ve been a spectacular failure. I frighten gentlemen away. Cass can help me be more, ahem, attractive to men. Or at least not send them running.”
“Go on,” Cass prompted, blinking rapidly.
“And Janie, you want to remain entirely unattached, do you not?” Lucy asked.
“Absolutely!” Jane replied. “Entirely and forever.”
“Repelling gentlemen is my specialty. I can help you immensely.” Lucy laughed.
Jane smiled at that. “I need you to convince my mother that she can stop making me attend these odious social evenings.”
“I’ll help,” Lucy agreed.
“And Cass?” Jane asked.
Lucy pulled them both closer. “I already have a plan. Cass wants to have her chance with Julian, correct? True love and all that. But you can’t do it if your mother is encouraging the Duke of Claringdon and insisting that you accept his suit. I’ll be your voice, Cass. I’ll tell you exactly what words to use to dissuade the duke from pursuing you.”
“You will?” Cass’s eyes were round.
“Yes,” Lucy replied. “I shall help you with the duke. Now you must send him a note. We must get him out of this ballroom and away from your mother’s prying eyes.” Another quick glance at Lady Moreland assured them that her eyes were indeed, still prying. “Ask him to meet you outside tonight, beside the hedgerow in the gardens. I’ll hide behind the bushes and whisper what you need to say and you’ll repeat it.”
A wide grin spread across Jane’s face. “You know, that plan is just mad enough that it may work. It’ll be just like Horner in The Country Wife. Only less risqué.” Jane was forever mentioning her favorite plays.
Cass shook her head, a worried look flashing across her pretty face. “No. No. It won’t work at all. He’s sure to hear you, Lucy.”
“We’ll just make certain he’s several paces away,” Lucy replied. “You’ll tell him not to come any closer. For propriety’s sake, of course. It’s perfect.”
Cass’s wide blue eyes turned to Jane. “Janie, what do you think?”
Her forgotten book shoved back into her reticule, Jane crossed her arms over her chest. “I think I shall be out in the garden hiding behind the hedgerow with Lucy so I don’t miss a moment of this.”
Cass wrung her hands. “But what if it doesn’t work?”
Jane patted her friend’s shoulder. “What does Lucy always say? Be bold? At this point, you’ve nothing to lose. And if anyone can manage this feat, it’s our Lady Lucy here.”
Cass gulped. She eyed both her friends warily and took a moment to speak. “Very well. If you’re certain, I suppose I’ll try it.”
Lucy smiled an enormous smile and clasped her hands together. “Excellent. Leave everything to me. It’ll be just like one of the romp plays we love so much. I’ll set the arrogant duke back on his heels. We have an appointment in the hedgerow.”