Page 13 of A Duke for Hire (The Devil’s Masquerade #1)

CHAPTER THIRTEEN

“ T heo, I cannot allow you to pay for my wedding dress,” Seraphina insisted as she and her friends walked to the Modiste.

It was Monday, the day after they’d all returned from the house party in the country. Life had been a whirlwind these last two days. Seraphina had found her mother and her carriage gone by the time she’d returned to their room; the first sign of her utter abandonment.

Tristan and Theo rushed in shortly after, offering her help with packing, ride back to town, as well as a room at the Briarwood Estate. Seraphina had accepted, knowing better than to even try to go back home. She did not need another discussion with her mother or father to know that that their support in any capacity had been ceased. So now, and until she was married to Hugo, she was homeless and penniless, relying completely on her friends’ generosity.

“It is not I that is paying for it, Seraphina, it is my brother,” Theo laughed, “And seeing as how he is the Duke’s best friend, I would consider it a wedding gift.”

Seraphina smiled gratefully at her friend, but it quickly vanished as she caught the nearby stares of the other nobles milling about Market Street. Word had obviously spread quickly of the scandal. She had tried, at one time, to muster up the politeness required to offer the Earl of Repington a written apology, but when she put pen to paper, all she could seem to write about was her utter relief at no longer being his intended.

“Do not pay them any mind,” Ophelia insisted, putting her arm around Seraphina as she cast a glare right back to the offended parties.

“You will be rid of these disapproving stares soon enough,” Rose added in agreement.

“Come,” Theo urged, opening the door to the Modiste, “Let us find you the most wonderful gown! One that would make all these wretched gawkers green with envy.”

Seraphina did not have to pretend to smile with her friends as she walked in. In truth, she more relieved than ever, despite the harsh stares and muttering whispers. She was about to leave it all behind, and that was what mattered.

“Ah, Mademoiselle Seraphina, tres bien!” Madame Ollier called gaily, rushing to the front of the store to greet them. “There you are! I have been expecting you!”

Seraphina and her friends all stared at the seamstress in surprise. With the rumors circulating so harshly, they had expected a less than warm welcome. After all, the ton was known to make certain businesses suffer if a member they did not like was served.

“You are?” Seraphina asked.

“Did Lord Briarwood tell you we were coming?” Theo asked, then glanced at Seraphina. “Perhaps my brother is more helpful than I thought.”

“ Non, non, mon cheries,” Madame Ollier laughed, taking Seraphina’s hands and pulling her inside, “His Grace du Merrivale visited this morning with a very generous deposit. I have shut my shoppe down today just to cater to your needs. He insisted that I get you whatever you may want. A wedding gown, day dresses, a few ball gowns and nightgowns as well. He said I am to make you whatever you wish.”

Seraphina’s jaw dropped in utter surprise, and her friends all stared at her in equal shock.

“He- he did?” She asked once recovered.

“Oh, oui, ma Cherie, he seems very taken by you, or at least that is what his money says to me,” Madame Ollier replied, wagging her brows as she held up her hand and rubbed her fingers together.

“I am used to lines of credit,” she went on, “But never before has a gentleman come into my store and given me so much money for services I have not even provided yet. Rest assured, whatever you wish, I will make. Now come! Let us discuss your gown!”

Four hours later, among the giggling, gay talk, and choosing of fabrics, Seraphina was standing up on the dais as Madame Ollier fitted her into the beginnings of her wedding gown. She’d never had any shop to herself before, and even though she had received quite a few glares from outside the Modiste’s windows, she had decided that she very much enjoyed the experience.

“ Pardonnez moi, Madames!” Madama Ollier called as they heard the bell at the door jingle, “We are closed for a private fitting today!”

“I am not a Madame,” Tristan teased, appearing before them with a wide grin.

Seraphina smiled wide as she saw Theo’s brother, and giggled as he made a sweeping bow toward her.

“Why Miss Seraphina, you are quite certainly going to be the most beautiful bride of the season in that dress.”

“Wait until you see it finished,” Madame Ollier replied gaily, “You will then declare her the most beautiful bride of the century.”

“I have no doubt,” Tristan replied, making another sweeping bow that had them all giggling.

“What are you doing here, brother?” Theo asked, “Don’t you have some deal to close or young lady to flirt with?”

“Both, actually,” he replied sarcastically, pulling a note from his pocket, “But before I get to that I have been given the task of delivering some information to the bride from the groom.”

Seraphina fixed her entire attention on Tristan immediately, worried that Hugo may have changed his mind.

“Is something wrong?” She asked.

“Quite the contrary,” Tristan replied, pulling his eyes to the paper in his hand. “First off, he wanted you to know that he has obtained the special license, and that you shall be married to him this coming Friday, at St. Mary’s Church at nine in the morning. There will not be time for a reception, he is regretful to say, as he must get back to Merrivale by midday. However you are welcome to invite your friends to his estate at their earliest convenience.”

Seraphina felt slightly disappointed at the lack of reception, but she nodded.

“Very well. Anything else?” She asked.

“Oh, plenty,” Tristan agreed.

“I have spoken to my parents and their invitation to stay with them still remains. However, His Grace has reserved a suite for you at the Crown Hotel if you feel you need a different option.”

Seraphina gaped. A suite at the Crown? It was the finest hotel in London, and though she had never been there herself, it was rumored that that they only had three suites in the top three stories, all of which took up the entire floor.

“In addition to that,” Tristan went on, “He has also made appointments for a jeweler and cordwainer to come here within the next hour so that you may choose jewelry and shoes. He made a note to insist that you choose several of each, not just for the wedding but for your new wardrobe.

“A hat maker and a fan designer will be arriving to wherever you may be staying on Wednesday to obtain your orders which will be ready before you leave for Merrivale on Friday.”

Tristan folded the list back up and tucked it back into his jacket.

“So,” he went on, “I must now ask you where you will be staying so that the stylists may arrive to the proper address.”

Still taken aback by such news, Seraphina turned to Theo for help.

“It is your choice, my darling,” Theo replied with a warm smile. “I would certainly not be offended if you chose the Crown Hotel over our house. Think of the experience you would have!”

Seraphina did think about it, and quickly made up her mind.

“Please tell His Grace that I am most touched by his care, but I would like to stay with Theo until Friday,” she said, reaching for her friends’ hands. In unison, all four of them reached for her. “I want to spend as much time with my ladies as possible.”

“Of course,” Tristan agreed.

Starting to feel giddy for the wedding, Seraphina then asked, “And what of my intended groom? Will I be seeing him at all before our nuptials?”

Tristan’s smile faltered a bit as he shook his head.

“I am afraid that our dear friend will be quite busy this week,” he replied, “Hence part of the reason I offered to come speak to you. He truly is up to his neck in meetings. Despite the talk circulating around him, quite a few gentlemen have been absolutely begging for his help with their ventures. When they found out he was going back to Merrivale on Friday, they descended upon our office like vultures.”

Seraphina felt a sliver of disappointment shoot through her upon receiving the news. She had been hoping to see him at least once more before the wedding. If for any reason to at least see that he was still sure that he wanted to go through with it. Yet she supposed with all the effort he was going through to make sure she was ready, he surely was too.

“Very well then,” She responded with an understanding smile. “Would you please let His Grace know that I am most thankful for his generosity, and that I shall see him on Friday at the church at two o’clock, sharp.”

“You know I will,” Tristan said as the bell on the door jingled again.

“Ah. It appears the jeweler and cordwainer have arrived,” he went on, waving them toward the front sitting room. “Well I shall leave you ladies to it. It seems you have a very busy night of choosing ahead of you. And Seraphina?”

“Yes?” She asked, looking back up to Tristan.

“One last thing. Hugo said to spare no expense. He wants you to have what you want.”

Tristan paused, then took a step closer to her so he could speak in quieter tone.

“This man is far more wealthy than anyone in this town is willing to admit. He said to buy what makes you happy.”

A thought entered Seraphina’s mind, and she bit her bottom lip as she contemplated asking it. As if sensing it, Tristan waited patiently, despite no doubt having more important things to do.

“Ladies, come with me,” Madame Ollier urged, sensing a private talk was coming, “Let us put together a tray of tea and treats before we get back to our work.”

Seraphina gave all the women an appreciative smile, and was thankful for the comforting squeezes they each gave her hand before they disappeared into the back.

“Has he…” she ventured, already bracing against the answer, “Has he spoken to my parents at all?”

Tristan tensed, and gave her a sympathetic look.

“I believe it is partly why he is being so generous,” he answered quietly. “Your father apparently shut down all your accounts at the stores, and though I am sure it does not matter to Hugo a single bit, he also withheld your dowry.”

Though it was what she was expecting, Seraphina felt swallowed up by a strange sense of loneliness.

“And my mother?” She rasped.

“Seraphina,” Tristan sighed, “Do not do this to yourself.”

“I want to know,” she urged.

Tristan looked at her as if she were an orphaned pup, as he toyed with his top hat.

“I only know what he has told me and that is very little,” he warned her, “But apparently, when he went to try and soothe things over, he came while she was in the process of removing your things. We were able to rescue a few items. Some books, a few that looked like childhood knick-knacks, but not much else. I am sorry, Seraphina. I am so sorry.”

Seraphina closed her eyes as she pressed her lips together, taking a moment to fully accept her new life.

“So I am disowned and homeless then,” she murmured.

“You will never be homeless,” Tristan answered quickly, giving her shoulder a comforting squeeze. “Whether it is one of the Fenwick houses or the Briarwood, you will never not have a place to go, I can promise you that. And as for being disowned, well. It is your parents that have truly lost something special, not you. And don’t you dare think otherwise.”

Seraphina smiled at him warmly, thankful for his kind words.

“Theo is lucky to have you as an older brother, Tristan,” she said, fighting back the tears threatening to fall.

“And she is lucky to have a friend like you,” he replied affectionately. “It is my honor to look after you as I do with her.”

Tristan then smiled widely, and gently rapped his knuckles against her chin in a pretend punch.

“Now, buck up, my girl. Do not mourn an uncomfortable past, but celebrate a bright future,” he urged.

She nodded her head, successfully fighting off her tears. He was right, and she knew it. Whatever discomfort she had faced with society, with her parents- it was over now.

“Ladies!” She called, feeling renewed, “Do come back out. We have much to do before Friday!”

“That’s the spirit,” Tristan whispered as he winked at her.

He motioned for the jeweler and cordwainer to come into the room then, and as the Theo and the others also made their way back in, he gave them all a sweeping bow.

“Everything all right, darling?” Theo asked, after her brother left.

“It certainly will be,” Seraphina said decisively, then turned her attention fully to her tasks.

“To Hugo!”

Hugo winced and rolled his eyes as he walked into the private gambling room and heard his friends sing the toast.

“I should have known better than to believe you wouldn’t let me go without a stag party,” he grumbled, smiling as his friends rushed him.

“It is tradition,” Everett sang, pouring him a glass of champagne.

“And an excuse,” Dominic said with a smirk, waving a choice of cigars before Hugo, “To get utterly knackered.”

Hugo plucked his choice of cigar from Dominic’s hand as he let a smile creep across his face.

“Since when do you need an excuse?” He teased.

Dominic made a face and shrugged. “I always feel less guilty the next morning when I have an excuse.”

Hugo, Tristan, and Everett all chuckled, and though he would have preferred not celebrate at all, Hugo sat in the appointed stag chair and let the party begin. He was not at all surprised when not even two minutes after the first hand of cards were dealt, scantily clad ladies of the evening made their way into the room through the side door.

“Let me guess?” He asked dryly, turning to Everett, “You had to.”

“Oh, I simply had to, ” Everett replied eagerly, nodding his head rapidly as he beckoned a woman to his lap.

“We are celebrating your last days as a free man after all, and what better way to do so?”

“God in Heaven, do I pity your future wife,” Tristan teased, tossing chips into the table.

“Certainly do not,” Everett quipped back, focusing more on the woman than his hand of cards, “She will be the best bedded woman in all of London. Won’t she, darling?”

“As you say, My Lord,” the woman giggled, pouring him more champagne.

At Hugo’s side, a tall, voluptuous blonde dressed in sheer red approached.

“What say you, Your Grace?” she asked, her tone sultry as she batted her lashes, “Do you need a lady luck to perch upon your lap as well?”

Hugo smirked, and gave her a polite bow of his head as he crossed one leg over another.

“Your offer is most appreciated, my dear, but I believe your luck would be better bestowed on Lord Ellsworth,” he replied.

“Yes, please,” Dominic replied readily.

The blonde giggled as the other Duke spread his legs and clapped his hand on his right thigh, inviting her to sit.

“So,” Hugo murmured to Tristan, giving back two cards, “How is she?”

Tristan smirked as he swiped the cards off the table and flicked two new ones toward Hugo.

“You were able to make it through two and a half games and a three bottles of champagne. I am impressed,” Tristan muttered.

Hugo shot Tristan an annoyed glance, which only earned him a chuckle. He had been trying to put off the subject for as long as possible, but his worry for his future bride was now positively grinding at him.

“At least I’ve won a hand,” Hugo remarked, then tossed more chips into the circle. “Now tell me.”

Across the table Dominic and Everett were too busy juggling their cards and their women to notice the subtle conversation before them, but still, Tristan threw a wary glance at them before he spoke. Even though they were all good friends, it was only he that knew of Hugo’s softer side.

“She was most appreciative of the deposits you set up around town for her,” Tristan explained. “And agreeable to the timing and the church where you will be wed.”

Hugo frowned. It was not the information he wanted, and Tristan knew it.

“I suspected as much,” he grumbled, “Get to what I truly wish to know.”

Tristan sighed, and waited until he was finished dealing out Dominic’s discard before he replied, “She has a strong spirit. She will be fine. But it is good that you are leaving town so quickly. She needs a fresh start. Deserves one.”

He cast a serious glance at Hugo.

“Watch your temper with her, Hugo,” he warned, “Even if she is taking her disownment better than most women would, she is still hurt.”

“Call,” Everett shouted suddenly.

Hugo ignored it, baring his teeth at Tristan as he leaned in closer.

“You think I would hurt her?” He growled.

“You know that’s not what I mean,” Tristan growled back with equal annoyance.

He plucked Hugo’s cards and threw them down on the table.

“I’m just saying she’s already been through enough before this whole drama started; her wants and dreams ignored by the people who were supposed to love her the most. I know you do not love her, and I know we are used to you pushing us all away. But perhaps you should not try to do that with her. She deserves more than that.”

A raucous came from Dominic and Everett then, but Hugo still glared at his friend.

“Congratulations, old boy, you’ve won again!” Everett hollered, pushing the chips in Hugo’s direction.

Hugo drew on a forced smile as he accepted the chips, but as he looked back at Tristan, he saw his friend was still looking at him with those wary eyes.

“Congratulations, Hugo,” Tristan said, shuffling the cards, “Just be mindful of what you won.”

Hours later, as Hugo walked back into his home, pockets full of money and his head in a rare state of inebriation, Tristan’s words rang back to him. He’d spent his life keeping people at an arm’s length. Save for one, his father. But instead of a close paternal bond; he’d received nothing but bruises and ill words.

You will not move. You will not block.

His father’s words from the day they’d struck their deal rang in his head. He’d saved Leah, but damned himself. And now, as he stood in his empty home, he wondered if he could truly let someone get close to him again.