Chapter Three
“Lord Graham to see you, your grace,” Murray informed Charles.
“See him in, of course.”
“Yes, your grace.” Murray left; the soft clicking of the door was the only sound, save a few crackles of the fire as it glowed in the hearth in his study.
Charles had been lost in his own thoughts. Ever since that ridiculous hairpin game yesterday, he hadn’t been able to cease thinking about Carlotta Standhope. Of course, if he were honest with himself, he would have included that he’d been having a rather hard time not thinking about her even before the hairpin game. But he wasn’t being honest with himself. He rather liked living in denial. It seemed far simpler. After all, when one admitted to attraction, so many more emotions and questions arose.
“Clairmont!” Edward Greenly, Earl of Graham walked into the study with the ease of someone familiar with the room. After all, he had been Charles’ chum since their days at Eton. Friend, partner in crime, really it was all the same.
“Graham. What brings you here this wet morning?” Charles grinned at his friend. Graham was the kind of bloke one simply had to smile around. His deep dimples on his face had caused many a woman to swoon. Though he cursed them as a young boy, he now found them supremely helpful when consorting amongst the ton.
His reputation wasn’t nearly as black as Charles’, though he was known for his much quieter exploits. But rather than make him unapproachable, it somehow endeared him even more to the matchmaking mommas of the ton. For that reason, he hadn’t attended an evening party for quite some time, at least not one his sister hadn’t required him to attend. Which was self-preservation in both instances. To abstain meant freedom from the matchmaking and scheming mothers, and attending, when required, allowed him peace from his harridan of a sister. Lady Southridge was a formidable force not to be reckoned with. At twenty years Graham’s senior, she was more of a mother than a sister, especially since both of their parents had perished while he was quite young.
“I’m leaving for Scotland on the morrow and thought I’d stop to say goodbye. It’s come to my attention that my estate is requiring my presence.”
“Ah, the one near Edinburg?”
“Precisely.”
“Well, I wish you well.”
“Of course you do. But in the meantime, can you please tell my sister where I’ll be?”
“No.”
“Please? You know if I tell her I’ll have to attend one final ball before I go and I’m not up to it.”
“Bloody hell you’re not. You’re just wanting to avoid her schemes.”
“Yes. I’m man enough to admit that I’m running away.”
“I fail to see how that amounts to being a man,” Charles retorted sarcastically, earning an unrepentant grin from Graham.
“So you’ll tell her?”
“No. In fact I believe I already said that.”
“I can always send a letter…” Graham mumbled as he sat in a damask chair facing the fire. He rubbed his chin absentmindedly.
“Yes, that will go over nicely. You know she’ll just redouble her efforts to marry you off or, heaven forbid, she’ll follow you to Scotland.”
“Bloody hell, do you think she would?” Graham’s gaze was horror-stricken.
“The better question is, do you think she would?” Charles raised his eyebrows and waited, rocking on his heels.
“Damn.”
“I thought as much.”
“Please Clairmont, you’re my only hope.” Graham stood and faced his friend, his amber colored eyes imploring.
“I’m not your mistress. You can’t beg or charm your way into my good graces.”
Graham sighed heavily.
Charles turned towards the door at the sound of children’s voices. Closing his eyes, he prayed they would cease. He hadn’t told a soul about his position as ward over the girls, or the governess he had employed. The last thing he wanted was to infuse London society with fresh gossip.
“I say Charles, do you have company?”
“Fifteen, sixteen, seventeen, eighteen, nineteen, twenty! Here I come!”
“Bloody hell,” Charles swore.
“Clairmont?” Graham asked.
Just then, the door to his study swung open and in ran Berty, frantically looking for a place to hide. She had shut the door and taken two steps before she froze, her eyes wide with surprise, then fear.
“I-I—forgive me, your grace. I-I—”
“Berty.” Charles spoke in a clipped tone. “Would you please abstain from using my study as a hiding place in the future?”
“Y-yes your grace.”
“Thank you. Now—”
“Berty?” Beatrix opened the door and peeked in, searching for her sister. As her gaze met Charles’, the grin she wore faded into a repentant expression full of guilt.
“Hello Beatrix. Your sister is right here.” Charles sighed heavily. All that was left to do was wait for Bethanny. Where was the governess? Wasn’t this why he’d hired her? To keep the girls from interrupting his life? This certainly qualified as an interruption.
“Hello, your grace,” Beatrix mumbled and stood, placing her hands behind her back. Berty scrambled over to her sister, standing slightly behind her as if still afraid.
“I give up! Where are—oh.” Bethanny’s cheeks flushed crimson and she nodded to Charles and Graham. “Your grace, sir. Um, please forgive us for interrupting—”
The sound of the clipping of heels on the marbled hall floor had all three girls glancing to the hall, then to Charles. Three varying degrees of guilt apparent on their faces as they waited for Miss Lottie’s arrival.
Charles simply held his breath. Not only had he withheld himself from the governess’ company since their little game yesterday, but also, he didn’t want Graham to suspect his feelings. Truly, it was turning in to a nightmare of a morning.
“Girls?” Carlotta’s voice was soft, as if she were trying to be as quiet as possible while still calling for her errant charges.
The sound of her footsteps stopped just in front of the slightly ajar door. She seemed to pause, and then the door opened slowly. “Girls?”
“Do come in, Miss Lottie. We’re having quite the party,” Charles said dryly.
Carlotta’s face flamed with a blush that was likely equal parts humiliation and anger towards the girls. “Forgive us, your grace. We’ll take our leave now.” Carlotta nodded then turned an icy glare to the girls.
“Clairmont? Are you going to introduce me?” Graham asked smoothly. Charles glanced over to his friend and narrowed his eyes. Graham was grinning, showing off his blasted dimples as he approached Carlotta. His stride was overly confident and immediately Charles felt the fiery stab of jealousy. His jaw clenched as a strongly possessive nature overwhelmed him. Taking a deep breath, lest his friend see his rampaging emotions, he swallowed the scathing retorts he wanted to say.
“Graham, allow me to introduce you to my three wards and their governess, Miss Carlotta Standhope.” He clenched his jaw afterward as he watched Graham take Carlotta’s hand and caress it flirtatiously before kissing the air above her wrist.
“A pleasure, Miss Standhope.”
“Thank you.” Carlotta spoke demurely. Her gaze met Charles’, and he lost himself momentarily in the depths of her eyes before she glanced to Graham, then back to him as if asking a question.
“Where are my manners? Miss Lottie…” He smirked as she slightly narrowed her eyes at his familiar manner. “This is Lord Graham.”
“A pleasure, Lord Graham.”
“I find that the pleasure is all mine, Miss Carlotta. Or is it Miss Lottie?” Graham grinned wickedly.
“Carlotta, if you please.”
“Of course.”
“And, who may I ask are these beautiful angels?” Graham turned to face the three girls.”
“These little angels—” Charles cleared his throat meaningfully. “—are Roberta, Beatrix and Bethanny.”
All of the girls smiled shyly at Graham, save Berty who was glaring at Charles at his use of her formal name. But to her credit, she didn’t correct him.
“A pleasure to meet you lovely ladies.”
“A pleasure to meet you, Lord Graham.,” the girls echoed in unison. Bethanny was blushing profusely at Graham’s attentions, causing Charles to experience a strange sensation clenching his stomach. The poor girl was too young and innocent to be charmed by the likes of his friend. Quickly he interceded before she could get any ideas in her young mind concerning his rake of a friend.
“Miss Carlotta, would you please escort the girls to the school room?” Charles clipped more than he had intended.
Carlotta nodded and ushered the girls out. “Please accept my apologies, your grace.” She spoke with a quiet dignity as she was about to leave.
“Your apology is accepted.”
With a slight nod, she followed the girls from the room and closed the door.
Charles watched the door close, tamping down the urge to call her back in and see her just once more. But no, he needed to detach himself, keep her out of his mind before she wormed her way into his heart. She would be leaving with the girls in a few days; he’d likely not see them for months, maybe even years. And aside from that, dukes did not consort with the help. Regardless of how beautiful they may be.
“Clairmont? I say old chap, are you with me?” Graham walked into Charles’ line of sight and broke him from his musings.
“What?”
“I’ve been asking you when you were saddled with three wards for the past few minutes. All you’ve been doing is staring at the door as if you saw a bloody ghost.”
“Yes, well. It turns out I’m their nearest relative so I inherited the little monsters when their parents perished.”
“You, with three girl wards? Hell must have frozen over.”
“Precisely my thoughts. That and heaven’s hysterical laughter.”
“That too, I imagine.” Graham nodded sagely.
“And what do you plan to do with them? I see you’ve secured a governess. Though how you found one so… bewitching, I’ll never know. Some have all the luck.”
“Yes, being saddled with three young girls as wards certainly certifies my lucky state,” Charles replied sarcastically.
“I’d say a governess like that is far more lucky than having three wards is unlucky. But that’s just my opinion.”
“I don’t consort with the help, Graham.”
“Of course not, but you can certainly enjoy a beautiful view, can you not?”
“We’re done discussing this.”
“Very well, but… when did you become their guardian? I’ve yet to hear about it in town and if I, your friend, had no idea…” His voice trailed off as he seemed to gain understanding. “You don’t want anyone to know.”
“No. Can you imagine the gossips?”
“It would be a veritable feeding frenzy.”
“Quite right.”
“So…” Graham’s face twisted into an evil grin, one that Charles knew all too well from their prankster days.
“Heaven help me,” Charles mumbled.
“Indeed. So, in payment for my silence concerning your little sweet dessert of a governess and three wards, you’ll tell my sister of my departure for Scotland. After all, it’s only a fair trade you see.”
“Bloody hell. Why are you my friend?”
“Because I’m the only one able to outwit a duke.”
“Don’t flatter yourself.”
“So are we agreed?”
“Agreed. But if word gets out and I find that you were the source, I’ll help your sister, and make sure you’re caught in a compromising position with some unsavory wench. Agreed?”
“There’s no need to be vindictive,” Graham grumbled.
“Just a little insurance, you understand.”
Graham sighed heavily. “Agreed. Who knows, maybe I’ll be a prince from that cinder story and redeem the lovely servant girl from the wicked duke’s employ.” Charles wagged his eyebrows.
“You nodcock, first it was a stepmother, not a wicked duke, and you, my friend, are no prince.”
“I’ve been told I look like one.” Charles performed a mocking bow, grinning like a fool.
“That was one drunk tavern wench. So it does not count. Plus, with Prinny as the only prince we know, I’d not say that you are complimenting yourself, especially with his girth.”
“I’ll make sure I tell him that at Carlton house.”
“You’ll do no such thing.”
“You’re right of course, but I might consider rescuing the damsel.”
“From my evil ways?”
“You of all people know how evil they truly are.”
“Not in this case. I assure you I’m the paragon of virtue.” Charles spoke confidently, though his own heart called him a liar.
“I don’t believe you for a moment, but if you want to pretend your mouth wasn’t watering at the delicious sight that little governess presented, then you go ahead and pretend.”
“Aren’t you leaving the country tomorrow and have errands to do? I believe you said you were in a hurry…” Charles suggested.
“Have all the time in the world, maybe I’ll postpone my trip.”
“Lady Southridge.” Charles spoke her name and watched Graham’s eyes narrow.
“You know, I do have somewhere to be.”
“I thought as much.”
“Try not to get into too much trouble while I’m gone.”
“Because you’re the one who would rescue me? Is that it?”
“I always do. I’ll see you upon my return, Clairmont.” Graham chuckled and waved as he quit the room.
“Upon your return.” Charles grinned at his friend as he left.
What the Duke Wants
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