Page 19 of A Duke But No Gentleman (Masters of Seduction #1)

Chapter Ten

Lord Norgrave had added another card to Sandwick’s silver salver while Imogene was enjoying her picnic with Tristan.

A note had been included with an invitation to join him at one of the tea gardens.

She was still annoyed with him for speculating on the duke’s friendship with his former mistress, but she had decided to forgive him.

His invitation reminded her that she had injured Lady Charlotte’s feelings when she walked with Lord Norgrave in Lady Yaxley’s gardens, and she wished to make amends so she decided to play matchmaker for her friend and the marquess.

The next afternoon, Imogene and Lady Charlotte enjoyed their surroundings while they waited for Lord Norgrave to join them.

“This was a terrible idea,” Lady Charlotte muttered as she fidgeted with her jewelry. “You should have mentioned that I would be intruding.”

“For the fifth time, you are not intruding,” Imogene said, resisting the urge to groan in frustration. “You and I are friends. The marquess will not be upset that I have not come alone.”

“I have overheard rumors that he and the Duke of Blackbern are courting you.” The blonde looked as if she was on the verge of crying. “He likes you, you know. I noticed almost immediately when he asked you to walk with him.”

Good grief, Imogene thought. Lady Charlotte was not smitten—she had fallen in love with the marquess.

“Is he aware of your feelings?” she asked, feeling guilty that she had inadvertently added to her friend’s pain.

“I—” Lady Charlotte started as she glanced up to see the gentleman whom she coveted above all frowning at her. “Lord Norgrave, it is good to see you again.”

***

Two hours later, Imogene returned home. Initially, she and Lady Charlotte had made tentative plans to visit Bond Street after taking tea with Lord Norgrave. The strained conversation that had ensued had dampened the lady’s spirits and had given Imogene a slight headache.

Lord Norgrave had been impatient and condenscending. All in all, she was relieved the entire visit was over.

“Good afternoon, Sandwick.” Imogene greeted the butler as she walked through the door.

“I trust your outing with Lady Charlotte was enjoyable?”

“Sandwick, it was dreadful and it was my fault.” She paused and rethought her decision. “No, it was Lord Norgrave’s fault. Well, parts of it anyway.”

“What precisely is the marquess’s fault?” her mother asked, descending the stairs.

“Lord Norgrave invited me to join him at the tea garden,” Imogene explained while she removed her bonnet and gloves. “I invited Lady Charlotte in a clumsy attempt at matchmaking.”

“Oh, Imogene,” the duchess lightly chided her. “I told you that young lady was besotted with the marquess. It is plainly obvious to all that Lady Charlotte cares too much, and Lord Norgrave barely tolerates her.”

“I wanted to help her, Mama,” she said glumly. “All I did was upset Lady Charlotte and Lord Norgrave was obnoxious and deliberately rude to us. The next time he tries to leave his card, I have a mind to order Sandwick to tear it up and shower the marquess with the pieces.”

Her mother laughed. “He was that terrible?”

“Positively beastly,” Imogene replied. “Lady Charlotte did not deserve his callous regard. Neither did I.” She rubbed her forehead with her fingers. “I am tempted to retire to my bedchamber and sleep the rest of the day away.”

“I have something to show you that will make you reconsider.”

She followed her mother into an alcove where a small trunk seemed out of place. “Who is it from?”

“I have my suspicions, but the boy who delivered it refused to give me the name of the person who hired him. You have been invited to the masquerade at Ranelagh Gardens. There are several groups planning to attend. Cassia has already asked that you ride with her.”

“Perhaps she was the one who sent the trunk.”

“The note within implies you have received two invitations to the masquerade.”

Imogene glanced back at her mother. “Did you look inside?”

The duchess shook her head, and handed her the note. “I assume it is a costume. If not, then you will need one unless we have something suitable buried in an old trunk.”

Imogene folded the note and tucked it away. She recognized the handwriting as Blackbern’s.

“Who sent the note?”

She ignored the question and opened the trunk. She pursed her lips as she scrutinized the vibrant patchwork dress. At the bottom of the trunk she discovered a black half-mask and a tambourine.

“Someone wishes that you dress as Columbine for the masquerade,” her mother observed. The duchess did not appear to be pleased with the choice, but she was not threatening to burn it. “Hmm… who could be so thoughtful, I wonder?”

The duke was responsible for the costume. Only he would insist that she dress as Harlequin’s mistress. The man had a peculiar sense of humor.