Page 6

Chapter

Five

A DUKE PONDERS HIS ACTIONS

T he walk across the square to Steele House would not take long. After all, Steele House was located directly opposite the Rosehaven residence. But needing time to think, I opted for a stroll around the Grosvenor Square perimeter.

The main thought that occupied my mind was the impetuousness of my actions. To start with, I’d sent a note to Rosehaven requesting an audience with Lady Rosalynd to discuss the disposition of her petition. That had been out of character. I hadn’t committed the transgression; Naughton had. It would be up to him to apologize, not me. But after Lady Rosalynd’s outburst at the ball, I felt the need to take on that responsibility. It should have been an easy thing to do. A quick apology and a quicker exit. But then I found myself volunteering to bring up the petition before the full legislation committee. I’d had no intention of doing such a thing before I entered the room. I hadn’t even thought about it, if the truth be told. And yet the words had spilled out.

Why had I done it? The thing didn’t have a prayer of making it to the floor of the House of Lords. Was it because I wanted to make amends for Naughton? Because I resented being branded as less than a gentleman? Or was it the spark of life—no, not a spark—the fire that blazed within Lady Rosalynd?

“Your Grace!” A loud female voice suddenly hailed me.

I gazed toward the voice’s direction to find the Dowager Lady Throckmorton descending from her carriage. Much as I wished to avoid a woman who thrived on town gossip and destroying reputations, I couldn’t do so. Good manners required a proper greeting. Putting thought to action, I doffed my top hat. “Lady Throckmorton.”

“Fancy meeting you just as we arrive from the country.” Her smile held the note of a cat who’d been presented with a dish of cream. She was pleased about our fortuitous encounter, unusually so. And that put me on alert.

“My good fortune. I hope you had a pleasant trip.”

“It was tolerable. Train travel can be quite exhausting even in first class.”

Behind her, a young woman descended from the carriage. A relation, going by her strong resemblance to the dowager. They both possessed dark curls with a widow’s peak, brown eyes that slanted at the edges, and patrician noses.

“May I introduce my granddaughter, Lady Scarlet, Throckmorton’s girl. She’s making her debut this season.”

Her glee at seeing me suddenly made sense. She was on the hunt for a husband for her granddaughter. And I was one of the most eligible gentlemen among the nobility. “A pleasure, Lady Scarlet.” I bowed.

“Your Grace,” the young woman curtsied as she blushed. She was quite lovely with her dark ringlets and shy smile. She would do well this season.

“Our arrival in town was a tad delayed due to unforeseen circumstances,” Lady Throckmorton continued. “But we mean to make up for lost time. You should come over for a dish of tea. Are you free Tuesday?”

Her matchmaking tactics were blatantly obvious. I would have to disappoint her as I was unavailable for tea, not to mention marriage. “Afraid not, ma’am. A meeting at the House of Lords.”

“All afternoon?”

“Unfortunately. We’re reviewing our legislation agenda.”

Her lips pinched with disapproval. “I suppose you must attend to your duties.”

“Exactly so.”

“The Walsh ball is next Thursday. I trust you will be attending.”

That event was on my calendar as several members of the House of Lords would be in attendance. As I was seeking votes for a measure I favored, it would be a great opportunity to discuss it with them. “Yes, ma’am.”

“Excellent.” She became all smiles. “My granddaughter will save the first waltz for you.”

“I’d be honored to, ma’am.” It was only one dance. Afterward, I could avoid the damsel easily enough.

Eager to get away, I glanced toward the entrance to Steele House. But before I could put action to thought, a young sprig of fashion sprang down the Throckmortons’ front steps. “Grandmama!”

“Rodney. How are you, my boy?” She greeted him with an honest smile while presenting her cheek for a kiss.

Having done so, Lord Rodney pouted. “Better now that you’re here. It’s been positively dreadful without your presence to brighten our dark world.”

“You are the sweetest boy.” She pinched her grandson’s cheek before turning to me. “You know Steele, of course.”

“Your Grace.” The Throckmorton grandson was everything a young dandy should be. A blue fitted coat that flared out at the waist, matching trousers, and a silk brocade waistcoat patterned in blue flowers. A carefully tied cravat was tied in an intricate knot. A high collared, heavily starched shirt whose points were so sharp he’d surely injure himself if he moved his head too much. Last but not least, hair heavily pomaded to keep his pompadour in place.

“Lord Rodney,” I murmured before turning back to Lady Throckmorton. “I’m afraid I must leave you, ma’am. Duty calls.”

“Yes, of course. Don’t forget about the waltz.”

“I won’t.” Thankfully, Steele house was but a few doors down, far enough that the dowager wouldn’t be visiting. Not that she would. Ladies, whether widowed, married, or single, didn’t call on unmarried men. At least not on their own. If they did, tongues would most surely wag.

My butler must have been on the lookout as he opened the door as soon as I climbed the steps.

“Trying day, Your Grace?”

“Only the last few minutes.” I handed him my hat, cape, and gloves. “Remind me again, Milford. Who is Lord Rodney in the Throckmorton lineage?” I didn’t keep up with such things, but my butler knew every resident in Grosvenor Square and every family tree.

“Lord Throckmorton’s second son.” Throckmorton had inherited the marquisate a decade ago after his father passed on to his glory. A blustery sort, the current marquis spent most of his time at his gentleman’s club playing cards and smoking cigars.

“Who’s his heir?”

“Viscount Heywood, his oldest.”

“And Lady Scarlet?”

“Lord Throckmorton’s sole daughter.”

So she would be a sister to Lord Rodney and Viscount Heywood. “Why is her grandmother sponsoring her debut rather than her own mother?” It hadn’t been difficult to determine Lady Throckmorton’s eagerness to push her granddaughter in my direction. She’d brought the young lady to town to find her a husband. I was a ducal widower in need of an heir. Ergo, I was at the top of her list.

“Lady Throckmorton is an invalid, Your Grace. She never leaves Throckmorton Manor.”

“I see.”

“If I may, your Grace. You have a visitor. Your brother, Lord Nicholas. I showed him to the drawing room.”

“He’s been watered and fed?”

Milford’s lips quirked. “Yes, Your Grace.”

I walked into the drawing room to find Nicky seated by a small table on which the tea service rested. Whatever had been on the plate in front of him, he’d devoured it as nothing was left.

“Nicky.” I pointed to the empty plate. “I see you’re eating me out of house and home.”

“Not quite. I saved you a few crumbs.” He came to his feet and embraced me. Five years younger than me, we shared the same physical traits. Whereas I was the responsible one, Nicky was the optimist, and our youngest brother, Philip, the rebel.

“To what do I owe the pleasure of your visit?” We were not strangers by any means, as we enjoyed supper once a week. But it’d been only two days since the last one.

He flashed a grin full of mischief. “I come bearing news, Brother. Mother is back in town.”

“Ah,” I said. “I thought she wasn’t due to return for another fortnight.”

“She moved up the trip. Apparently, fashions have changed, and she needs an entirely new wardrobe before venturing into society.”

“She’s always loved fashion. I sense a lightening of my purse.”

His brow wrinkled. “Why frown on something she truly enjoys? She had a difficult enough time with Father.”

Our father had been a strict disciplinarian who heavily used his fists. If any of us committed the slightest infraction, he took the strap to us. I shielded my brothers as best I could. Unfortunately, I couldn’t do as much for Mother, who was a regular victim of his drunken rages. He actually enjoyed beating her black and blue. And then one night, unable to bear her anguished cries any longer, I marched into their bedroom, ripped the strap from his hand, and used it on him. He never hurt her or my brothers again.

Not long after, he’d gone to the stables, ordered my favorite stallion saddled and ridden off drunk into the night. The next morning, we found him dead, his neck broken. My horse broken as well. I’d shot the stallion to stop his suffering.

“Forgive me, I didn’t mean to criticize Mother. She deserves to enjoy what she can out of life.”

“My apologies. I misunderstood.” His impish grin returned. “That’s not the only reason she returned. There’s another.”

“Oh?”

Nicky rocked back on his heels. Clearly, he was enjoying himself. “Mother intends to find you a wife this season. And she won’t be fobbed off.”

Not bloody likely. Approaching the sideboard, I poured myself a drink before turning back to Nicky. “A useless pursuit. She knows I don’t intend to marry again.” Once was more than enough. “Would you like a drink?”

“No, thank you. You need an heir, Warwick.”

I sipped the liquor before clamping a hand on Nicky’s shoulder. “That’s what you’re for, dear brother. The ladies seem to like you well enough.”

In an instant, his grin vanished. “I don’t think so.”

“Something wrong?”

“I’m not in the market for a wife. Maybe Philip.”

“No.” I tossed back the rest of the whisky. “Not Philip.”

“What’s he done now?”

I told him.

“What do you intend to do about it?”

“Stop him from destroying himself. But it’s damn hard.”

“You are Steele to him.”

That was my title, but Nicky’s words conveyed something else. “What do you mean?”

“You have power over him, Warwick. Indeed, all of us, Mother, Philip, and me. Without you, we have nothing, as Father did not see it fit to bequeath us any funds, not even Mother. We are dependent on you for the roofs over our heads and every morsel we eat.”

“I’ve never denied any of you.”

“Indeed, you haven’t. You’ve always been more than generous. Still, he resents it.”

“And what am I supposed to do about it? As irresponsible as he is, I can’t grant him a generous sum. He will squander it on women and ... other things.”

“Talk to him.”

“I have, Nicky. He won’t listen.”

“Then find another way.”

I poured another generous splash of whiskey into my glass and gulped it down. “I’ll see what I can do.” Eager to change the subject, I asked, “Will you be at the Walsh ball?”

His smiling countenance disappeared, and his mood underwent a drastic change. “Yes, I’ll be there.” And then, without another word, he strode off.

That had been an odd reaction, especially coming from the brother who possessed the sunniest disposition of the three of us. Something was troubling him. Whatever it was, I would find out. He could never hide anything from me.