Page 10 of Courting Scandal With The Duke

B arbara awoke at some hour in the early morning to the sound of her aunt’s cries of terror.

She leaped out of bed, grabbed her robe and dashed out into the hallway.

The corridor was full of servants peering in through her aunt’s chamber door. Her aunt was still crying out in distress.

‘What is going on?’ Barbara demanded, pushing her way past the upstairs maid and a couple of footmen.

Her aunt was sitting up in bed, her cap askew and her hands over her face while she continued what Barbara could only describe as howling. Her maid stood next to her, wringing her hands and looking helpless.

Barbara went to the bed, put her arms around Aunt Lenore’s shoulders and patted her back. ‘Shh. It’s all right. I am here now. Shh.’

It took a few minutes to get the poor dear calmed down enough to speak.

‘There was a man.’

Barbara stared at her. ‘A man? ’

Her aunt pointed a trembling finger towards her chest of drawers, which Barbara realised were all open with items scattered all around.

And the bedroom window was wide open.

‘A man. In here. He was digging around in my clothes.’

‘A burglar?’

‘I th-th-think so.’

‘Good heavens.’ Barbara went to the window and closed it. She looked at the maid. ‘Rakes, did he steal anything?’

The maid hurried to the dressing table. She moved things around. ‘There was some jewellery left here last night…a ring and a necklace. They are gone.’

‘Oh, no,’ her aunt cried. ‘They belonged to my mother. Why was I too tired to put them away?’

Barbara’s heart ached for her aunt. She had treasured those pieces.

‘Perhaps we can find them. We can hire someone to go around the pawn shops and look for them.’ It would probably cost more than the jewellery was worth, but it would be worth it to make her aunt feel better.

Aunt Lenore sniffled. ‘If we had not switched rooms, it would have been your jewellery that would have gone missing.’

Barbara stared at her. That would certainly have been a disaster.

She set about calming her aunt and setting the servants to tidying the room. She also asked the butler to make sure the windows were secure. All of them.

It was almost well past noon by the time she had the household settled down and back to its normal smooth running.

And an afternoon of needlework in the drawing room, accompanied by fortifying cups of tea, had settled Aunt Lenore’s feathers, especially after Barbara suggested her aunt’s maid sleep in the adjoining dressing room for the time being.

As Barbara dressed for her evening, she could not help but feel a little amused by the day’s events.

London was certainly providing her with a surprising amount of excitement, everything from riding a racehorse to a burglary.

Hopefully tonight would be equally entertaining.

If things went as she had planned, they should be.

When Aunt Lenore came bustling into Barbara’s bedchamber, she seemed completely revived. ‘Is this the gown you are wearing this evening?’

Watching from where she was seated at the mirror, Barbara could only see her aunt’s back, not her expression. ‘Yes. Is there a problem?’

Her aunt lifted the gold tissue gown from the bed and held it up. ‘My dear, it is beautiful. Sumptuous, but surely a little too magnificent for a minor ball? More of the sort of thing one might wear at Carleton House.’

She turned to face Barbara’s back with a frown. ‘It does seem a little…’ She lifted the fabric and let it fall.

‘A little…?’ Barbara required.

‘Gauzy? Transparent?’

‘It is an overdress,’ Barbara said. ‘All the rage in Paris. ’

‘Do not think of damping your petticoats,’ Aunt Lenore said with a wag of her finger.

‘Certainly not.’ A good thing Aunt was not asking about her footwear.

Aunt Lenore parked herself on a small seat beside the dressing table while the maid continued to pin Barbara’s hair in the style she preferred.

‘I am surprised we have heard nothing from the Duke since the day you rode out with him,’ Aunt Lenore said, sounding disappointed. She fiddled with the buttons on her gloves.

‘Why would you be surprised?’

Aunt Lenore pushed a grey ringlet back from her face then tugged it forward. ‘Oh, I don’t know. I would have thought at the very least he would have attended our at home the other day. I sent him a personal invitation.’

The at home had been the most boring event possible. ‘I am sure he has many more important matters requiring his attention than an afternoon at home.’

‘I have it on good authority that he is looking for a wife.’

‘Oh, my dear aunt. How could you even think that a man such as the Duke would be interested in a twice-married widow? It is beyond the realm of possibility.’

‘He danced with you at Almack’s. He invited you to go riding. What a triumph it would be if he should actually—’

‘I have it on good authority that he is courting Miss Simon.’

Aunt Lenore frowned. ‘What authority?’

‘Your friend, Mr Elton. He seems to know everything about everyone and is happy to gossip about it too.’

‘Mr Elton. Pah. That man knows nothing but what people want him to believe. You mark my words, if you play your cards right, you could find yourself a duchess before the year is out.’

‘It being every woman’s wish to catch the Duke,’ Barbara said. ‘Or rather every woman except me. I have absolutely no wish to marry again. Not even if the Prince of Wales were to ask me.’

‘We will see what your father has to say about that, my dear.’

The maid stepped back with an enquiring expression.

Barbara nodded. ‘Perfect as always, Marion.’ She got to her feet and smiled at her aunt. ‘If you don’t mind, Aunt, I will finish my toilette and meet you downstairs.’

‘Very well.’ Lenore eyed the dress on the bed then gave a shake of her head, clearly knowing better than to argue about it. ‘The coach will be at the front door in half an hour.’

‘I will be ready.’

Once her aunt left, Barbara slipped out of her dressing robe, already attired in stays and petticoat.

Marion helped her into the gown. It had been made by one of the foremost seamstresses in Paris and fitted her to perfection.

It shimmered gold as it caught the light and floated around her as she moved. It was indeed sumptuous.

And she had it on good authority that the Duke would indeed be present this evening.

While he had been rather stuffy about her showing up to his racing stables without a chaperone, he seemed to have accepted her explanation, something she had not expected. And to boot, he had made sure her reputation remained unsullied.

After thinking it over, she had decided that he must have thought she was setting her cap at him. Trying to trap him into marriage by being alone with him, then crying foul.

A man in his position must experience that sort of thing from ambitious women all the time. In this case, nothing could be further from the truth.

Clearly if she wanted his disapproval, she would need to create enough of a public stir to cause him to vilify her, thereby causing Society to turn their backs.

And she could not be too obvious about it either, or Father would see through her ruse.

After listening to her aunt talk about Society and what was acceptable and what was not, she had decided to start with small things and work up to one large faux pas—that would be the icing on the cake.

She stretched out a foot, admiring her golden sandals and red painted toenails.

Yes indeed, it was a very good thing her aunt had not enquired about her footwear. And thank goodness, for once it was not raining.

She smiled with satisfaction. The red dress had been a start. These sandals would raise an eyebrow or two. And she would eventually figure out the one thing the Duke of Derbridge absolutely would not tolerate, and she would be out on her ear.

Once he, the leader of London Society, pronounced her persona non grata , the ton would never accept her again. Only then would she be free of Papa and his ideas .

A footman rapped on the door. ‘The carriage is waiting, my lady.’

‘I will be right there,’ she called out.

‘Your wrap, my lady,’ Marion said.

‘Thank you.’

When she heard her aunt’s voice in the street below, she tripped lightly down the stairs and into the street. Aunt Lenore was already ensconced in the carriage.

‘Sorry I am late, Aunt. A wardrobe malfunction slowed me down.’

‘Nothing serious, I hope?’ Her aunt looked her up and down.

‘No. Not serious. Marion handled it.’

As usual, her aunt’s carriage crawled to their destination. Fortunately they did not have far to travel, and when they arrived, Barbara made sure her aunt was always a few steps ahead so she could keep her feet out sight.

Inside the Earl of Bourne’s grand townhouse, a line of the nobility snaked its way up the staircase to the ballroom on the first floor .

From above came the muffled voice of the butler shouting names as guests entered the ballroom.

Every few moments, the line shuffled up a step or two.

‘Oh, dear,’ her aunt said. ‘Perhaps we should have come earlier.’

‘Perhaps we should not have come at all,’ Barbara said.

A gentleman ahead of them turned at the sound of their voices. ‘ Mein Gott! Barbara, is it you?’

Barbara stared at the blond man in astonishment. ‘Charles. What are you doing here?’

Her dead husband’s brother grinned. ‘Waiting to be admitted to some infernal ball,’ he said. ‘I arrived yesterday in London. I planned to send around my card tomorrow to ask if I could call on you. But here you are.’

He moved around the person standing behind him and to join them.

‘Aunt Lenore, let me introduce Charles, the Count of Lipsweiger and Upsal. My departed husband’s heir.’

An attractive smile lit his face. ‘Such a pleasure to meet you.’ He took Aunt Lenore’s hand and bowed in the Continental fashion.

Aunt Lenore blushed and fluttered her handkerchief.

‘Surely you didn’t travel all the way to London to attend this squeeze?’ Barbara said.