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CHAPTER TWO

MAX’S VALET HAD just finished attaching his cufflinks to his freshly pressed sleeve cuffs, and was now handing Max his jacket to complete his formal dinner attire, when a bombazine clad whirlwind who was the dowager duchess blew into his ducal chamber with all the subtlety of a gale force storm. “Maximilian!”

“Grandmama, you might have knocked.” Did the woman not understand boundaries? “I could have been standing here naked.”

She ignored the comment. “Who is that girl you’ve placed in the Blue Room? Only our most exalted guests are ever given that bedchamber.”

Max grinned. “Have you met her? What do you think?”

His grandmother arched a silver eyebrow. “She smiled at me.”

“Shocking,” he teased. “She has a nice smile, doesn’t she?”

His grandmother harrumphed . “She forgot herself and almost hugged me.”

Max laughed in surprise. “She hugged you?”

“ Almost . I thought you had brought a mistress into this house, but she certainly does not behave like a mistress.”

“Because she isn’t one. When have you ever known me to be so indiscreet? I would never be so disrespectful as to bring one of my dalliances into our home.”

“Then who is this girl? She welcomed me into her chamber, practically hauled me in and would not stop thanking me for my generosity. Apparently, you have volunteered me to find her some gowns to wear. She offered to sew the alterations herself, assuring me she was excellent with needle and thread.”

“That sounds like Harry,” he muttered.

“Harry?”

Max shrugged into his jacket, then spared a final glance in the mirror to make certain he cut an impeccable figure in his black tie and tails. “Her name is Harriet Comeford. She is George Comeford’s sister. I’ve told you about George.”

She nodded. “He’s one of the few men I’ve ever heard you praise.”

“He passed away recently, Grandmama.”

Her expression immediately softened. “Oh, my dear. I am so terribly sorry.”

“So am I. He was a good friend. There was no one I trusted more when bullets were flying. But come with me,” he said, almost ready to escort her downstairs to the drawing room where they were to join their guests for drinks before dinner. He had one stop for them to make beforehand. “Let me properly introduce you to Harry.”

“Why do you insist on calling her that?”

“I don’t know. George always referred to her in this way. She doesn’t mind at all, and gave me permission to call her that. Of course, I’ll always refer to her as Miss Comeford among company.”

He stopped in front of Harriet’s door and knocked.

Soft footsteps padded across the carpet, and then the door was suddenly thrown open. “Your Graces! Do come in.”

Sparkling green eyes stared back at him.

Her smile was pure sunshine.

She was barefoot, had let down her hair, and had a half-eaten meal on a tray atop a small table beside her window.

Max realized they must have interrupted her while she ate her dinner.

Harry subtly tried to tug her gown down to cover her bare toes peeking out from under the hem. It was such a prim, nothing of a gown. A dark green muslin with not a single adornment, but he could not stop staring at it.

Well, he was really staring at her and the shapely way she filled it out. However, she required a little more meat on her bones.

She was still quite pretty, however. “Miss Comeford…”

He cleared his throat, and was appalled to find his body heating as those big, innocent eyes stared back at him.

And her hair…Lord help him, was there ever a lovelier tumble of cinnamon curls on a girl? Or prettier eyes that shone like emerald starlight?

Once more, she smiled up at him in expectation.

Oh, Lord.

She had the sweetest dimples.

And little ears that curled at the tops.

He cleared his throat again.

“Would you care to sit?” she offered when he said nothing more than her name.

He shook out of his bemusement. “No, I merely brought my grandmother here to properly introduce you.”

He then made the pointless introductions since Harriet and his grandmother already appeared to be old friends.

“You have an excellent grandson, Your Grace. You must be very proud of him.”

“I am. Thank you, my dear.” She cast the girl a doting smile.

Max looked on in amazement as his grandmother fawned over the girl.

Well done, Harry. One dragon dowager duchess tamed.

It hadn’t taken George’s sister very long to accomplish this task.

A remarkable accomplishment since his grandmother never warmed to anyone this quickly.

Harriet, for he really should not be getting too comfortable thinking of her as Harry, cast him another breathtaking smile. “You look quite spectacular, Your Grace. If I may speak honestly, I believe the ladies will be in a swoon over you.”

He grunted to dismiss the possibility.

These ladies would be swooning over his title and wealth, and not give a fig about him.

Perhaps the war years had made him too cynical.

His features were not elegant.

He looked more like a battle-hardened soldier than a gentleman, a man more used to slogging through mud than through a glittering London ballroom.

He had scars and a small bump on his nose where it had been broken several years ago on some battlefield.

Harriet was looking at him with her big eyes wide so that they appeared to take up half of her face. The other half was also quite striking, for she had a slim nose and a gracefully curved mouth that he would not mind kissing if the opportunity ever arose.

But it would not, for he had to concentrate on finding himself a wife from among the bejeweled elite of London. Oh, how he hated the thought of endless hours engaged in nonsensical chatter.

He hated these blasted house parties and should not have allowed his grandmother to talk him into holding one.

Harriet was frowning at him. “What, Miss Comeford?”

“You will scare the young ladies if you scowl at them the way you are scowling at me.”

“I am not scowling at you. I was merely thinking to myself. If those ladies are so timid as to be afraid of a harmless frown, then am I not better off without them?”

“Why would you bring them all the way here just to dismiss them?” she asked, pursing her lips that once again brought on his urge to kiss her. “It would be a shame to pass up the opportunity to get to know them better. This is why they have come to Pendrake Hall. This is why you invited them here.”

“My grandmother did the inviting,” he corrected her. “This was never my idea.”

“But it is done and it is a good idea to have them all conveniently close to you. You’ve mentioned they are here for a week, so why not use the time to learn more about these young ladies? Should you not have some sort of plan? Or a schedule?”

He had never given it a thought.

She opened her mouth as though to say something more, then snapped it shut.

“Yes, Miss Comeford?” He tried to hold back his amused laughter. The girl seemed to have a comment about everything, but was he not the one to blame for urging her to voice her opinions?

“I wish to be honest again,” she said.

He chuckled. “Please, go ahead.”

“Thank you.”

“Not at all. I’m eager to hear what you have to say.” There was an earnest sweetness about her that even had his grandmother smiling as she prepared to listen to the girl.

“It seems to me that you put on as much of a facade as they do. So why not let down your guard a little and see what happens? They might shed theirs and allow you to see who they really are.”

“You do not know much about dukes, do you?” he remarked.

“Nothing at all,” she admitted with a nod. “You are the first one I have ever met.”

“It is obvious.”

She blushed. “Oh.”

He gentled his manner because Harriet meant well and he did not wish to discourage her from speaking her mind. “These ladies would eat me alive if I were ever to let down my defenses.”

The notion seemed to shock her.

“You also know very little about how the ton operates,” he warned her gently. “This is why you must trust no one, for they will not hesitate to take advantage of you to achieve their own purposes the moment you give them an opening.”

“Are you saying that I should not trust you, either?”

“My grandson did not mean to sound so harsh,” his grandmother interjected. “Yes, you should always trust me and Pendrake. I know he sounded quite cynical just now, but he was not exaggerating. The Marriage Mart is cutthroat. These young ladies and their families will do anything to undermine their competition, and use anyone to gain advantage. They will scheme, betray, and in general behave as they never would under normal circumstances. Just keep alert, my dear. Do not hesitate to come to me or Pendrake if you are uncertain about anything.”

“And do not allow yourself to be cornered alone by any of the gentlemen,” Max added as a reminder. “They will try to take advantage.”

“Your Grace,” she said, now looking up at him in obvious dismay, “perhaps I ought find lodgings elsewhere for the week.”

“No,” he said in a rush, silently berating himself for scaring the girl. “You are safest here. And you will always be safe under my guard and that of my grandmother. Perhaps I was too strident in my warning. It is just as likely that all of my guests will ignore you completely.”

His grandmother patted the girl’s hand. “Or will genuinely take to your kindness and befriend you. They are mostly good people, but under a lot of strain when settling a daughter of marriageable age successfully.”

Max raked a hand through his hair as he turned to his grandmother. “Now that I’ve made a complete hash of this conversation and left Harriet thoroughly bemused…”

His grandmother laughed. “Yes, you’ve done quite a job of it, Pendrake.”

“I know,” he said with a wince. “Harriet, just stay close to my grandmother for these next few days and allow her to pamper you. There is no one kinder or wiser than this old dragon.”

“Old dragon, am I? Impertinent whelp,” she teased back.

“Perhaps not so old or all that much of a dragon,” he admitted, giving her a light kiss on the cheek. “I think it is time for us to join our guests, sweetheart.”

Harriet eeped .

His gaze fell to her once again. “Seems you have more to tell me.”

She shook her head. “I commend you for the lovely way you treat your grandmother.”

He chuckled. “Thank you, Harry.”

Max waited until he and his grandmother were down the hall and out of Harriet’s hearing before he broke into a broad grin. “She’s different, don’t you think?”

His grandmother nodded. “She’s lovely. Just as you said she would be.”

But Max sobered a moment later. “I need to take care of her, Grandmama. I owe it to her brother. Now that you have had a better look at her, will you help me?”

“Yes, Max. We’ll start by finding her some proper clothes to wear. She’s quite a pretty thing and might turn out to be especially stunning with a little attention.”

“But don’t turn her into an artificial ton diamond,” he said with a frown. “She’s loveliest just as she is.”

His grandmother studied him with unusual intensity. “Max, do not tell me you are developing feelings for her.”

“Feelings?” He shook his head and laughed. “Not at all. Fulfilling a duty to a friend is not at all the same thing.”

He placed the old dowager’s hand in the crook of his arm and escorted her into the drawing room where their guests were awaiting them. It did not take long for him to be surrounded by England’s most beautiful debutantes.

And yet, the abundance of silk upon their nicely shaped bodies and diamonds at their slender throats did nothing for him.

Not one of them had big, bright eyes or dimples.

Not that it signified anything.

Harriet was different and she amused him.

He shook out of the thought as the supper bell rang.

Max escorted his grandmother into the manor’s formal dining room where the table was easily large enough to accommodate their forty guests. A white lace tablecloth covered the entire stretch and silver epergnes bearing exotic flowers grown in his own conservatory stood at measured intervals along the center of the table. Alternating with the epergnes were massive silver candelabra that held scented candles. Crystal glasses at each setting formed prisms of light as candlelight shone on them. The plates, made of finest bone china, had been specially designed for one of the earlier dukes and bore the Pendrake crest, as did the silverware.

The guests took their assigned seats while he and his grandmother took their places on opposite ends of the table.

While custom required the ladies of highest rank to be seated beside him, the rules were relaxed for this house party. He was not surprised to find a ton diamond on either side of him, both of them stunning blondes with blue eyes. “Lady Marianna,” he muttered, nodding to the first, and then doing the same to acknowledge the other beauty. “Lady Winifred.”

One giggled and the other cast him a seductive smile.

He quickly dismissed one as too silly and the other as too scheming.

Both fluttered their eyelashes at him, but their flirtations held little appeal for him, for their stares were vacant, denoting little intelligence behind their azure orbs.

Unfortunately, their excruciatingly dull conversations confirmed his first impression of them. Both were unsuitable for him. Not that he was seeking Galileo in a gown. His wife did not need to be the wisest person in a century. But she did need to complete a sentence without an inane giggle. And she did need to be inexperienced in the sexual arts.

He was considered a rake.

He knew how to give a woman pleasure.

Nor was he bashful in the least when it came to trying new things.

But he had no doubt that Lady Winifred, even at the tender age of nineteen, could teach him a thing or two about these games of pleasure.

The girl had a ravenous look and it was not for the sumptuous fare being brought to the table.

She would eat him alive for breakfast.

Were he to marry her, she would be cheating on him before their honeymoon was over.

As for Lady Marianna, she was now running her foot up his leg while licking her lips suggestively.

Well, there were six other young ladies he had yet to meet. There had to be a few among them who could hold an interesting conversation and were unspoiled. Did a duke not need to be certain his wife would be faithful to him?

He needed more than faithfulness, which was one among several important traits.

He wanted a wife with common sense, a cheerful disposition, a smile that lightened his heart, and unwavering honesty.

Yes, honesty and faithfulness were top requirements.

Without those, there could never be trust.

And trust was the vital foundation of any good marriage, was it not?

He glanced down the table and discretely studied the other six hopefuls. They were all beautiful and should have appealed to him. For some reason, he could not muster any enthusiasm for them.

Their smiles were false.

Every last one had a mask in place.

Well, perhaps he was judging them too harshly. Was he not putting on a false face, too? But it irked him that they did not have sincerely heartwarming smiles.

After supper, the men remained around the table having their smokes and port while the ladies retired to the drawing room. Not long afterward, the men joined them. Since this was the first night of the house party and many guests had arrived late in the day, the entertainments were light and several of the elders retired early.

Card tables were set up in one of the sitting rooms off the formal drawing room, and a harpist played in a corner of the drawing room to provide music but not overwhelm those guests who wished to converse while strolling along the terrace or in the formal gardens.

Some of the gentlemen retired to the billiards room.

Others liberally refilled their glasses with brandy since Max did not stint on the libations available for the asking.

It was almost dawn by the time the last of the guests retired to their quarters. Since Max had stayed up with these stragglers and then made a round of the house to make certain all was securely locked up, he was the last one to head to bed.

He usually kept earlier hours when at Pendrake Hall, retiring around midnight and waking at cock’s crow to take an early morning ride along the familiar trails that were sometimes shrouded in mist at the start of his ride. He would skip that routine this morning and grab an extra few hours of sleep.

Most guests would not wake until much later.

He would alter his riding schedule and invite those who wished to ride on a shortened excursion around the neighboring countryside in the afternoon instead.

But he gave no more thought to those plans as he stripped off his clothes and fell wearily onto the soft mattress.

“Harry,” he murmured, not certain why this girl with big eyes and a beautiful smile came to mind as he fell asleep.

Indeed, fell into a deep and exhausted sleep.

Max felt as though he had just closed his eyes when his valet came in and drew aside the drapes to reveal a sunny day. “Ah, you are awake, Your Grace.”

“No, Holt. I am fast asleep,” he muttered, sticking a pillow over his head as sunshine streamed into his bedchamber. “What time is it?”

“Almost nine o’clock, Your Grace.”

Max set aside his pillow and sat up, for it was three hours beyond his usual time to rise. “Blasted schedule is completely thrown off,” he muttered.

Holt nodded as he burrowed through Max’s armoire to retrieve clothes suitable for morning wear. “None of your guests are up yet, other than Miss Comeford. I saw no harm in allowing you to sleep in a while longer. I doubt any of them will stir much before noon.”

“I suppose you are right.” He paused a moment, debating whether to ask about Harry’s whereabouts. Well, he was master here. Why should he not be kept apprised of the comings and goings of his guests? “Where is Miss Comeford?”

Holt arched an eyebrow. “You’ll find her strolling in the garden.”

Max hastily washed and dressed, and then hurried down to join her. He felt a jolt of disappointment when he did not immediately spot her. Then he remembered the abandoned structure that had once been the family’s private place of worship several centuries ago, a small chapel in the woodlands on his property.

Did it not make sense that Harriet, who had worked in a convent school, would be curious about it?

He strode past the formal flower beds and into the wilder portion of the garden that had been left overgrown and now partially hid the ancient stone chapel. Sure enough, the old door to the entrance was thrown open.

Light filtered in through the archway and also streamed in through several stained glass windows that were small and dusty.

Max quietly stepped inside and saw her kneeling beside an equally dusty altar.

His heartbeat quickened.

Botheration.

He did not understand why he was so elated to see Harriet. But now that he had come upon her while she was lost in prayer, he felt like a trespasser.

What was he to do?

He did not wish to disturb her.

However, she rose and turned just as he was about to quietly back out. “Your Grace,” she said, casting him another of her breathtaking smiles, “I did not realize you were here.”

He smiled in return. “I could lie and tell you that I often seek comfort in daily prayer here, but I think the dust piled on the altar and pews would give me away.”

“It is just dust and easily wiped off,” she said with a lilting laugh, walking to his side. “This little chapel is not in bad condition, just a bit neglected. Do you mind that I ventured in here?”

“Not at all. I’m glad someone will finally put it to good use.”

“I’ll bring some rags and a bucket of water down with me tomorrow and clean—”

“You will do no such thing. I have servants for that task,” he said more sharply than intended.

“But I don’t mind—”

“You may supervise,” he said more gently, not understanding why he was so put out by her offering to clean the chapel. Perhaps it was because he wanted to treat her like a princess and not one of the scullery maids.

In honor of her brother’s memory, of course.

There was no other reason for his yearning to pamper her.

Besides, she was a little thing.

Would she have the strength to carry a bucket filled with water all the way down here?

Once they were outside, she ran a hand down the front of her gown to wipe away a few smears. It was the same green muslin she had worn yesterday, but that was no surprise since she hardly had a wardrobe.

He took a moment to study her while she was distracted by her task.

Lord, she was pretty.

He had thought the same yesterday.

More so today since she was well rested and had been adequately fed.

Her hair shone a lovely copper in the sunlight.

She looked up and smiled at him again.

This.

This is what he wanted in a wife.

Big eyes.

Dimples.

Someone who warmed his cynical heart with her sunshine smile.

Well, he had six more young ladies to meet.

Would any of them outshine Harry?