Page 28 of Courting Scandal With The Duke

As he rose to see to the comfort of his guests, he saw Barbara already on her feet and standing with her Aunt at the back of the box. He manoeuvred his way to her side.

‘Thank you for a wonderful evening, Duke,’ she said with a bright smile that he found rather brittle.

‘Leaving already? The play is but half over.’

Miss Lowell looked disgruntled and twitched at her shawl. ‘Our apologies, Duke. My niece has a headache. The smoke from the lamps perhaps.’

Or the sight of her father in the Royal Box? Why would that be?

‘I am sorry to hear you are not well.’ He gestured to one of the footmen who had entered to offer refreshments. ‘Please arrange for Miss Lowell’s carriage to be brought around.’

The man hurried off to do his bidding.

‘Allow me to escort you down to the street.’

‘We mustn’t take you away from your other guests,’ Barbara said.

‘Most kind,’ her aunt said at the same moment.

‘I insist,’ Xavier said. ‘Covent Garden at this time of night is no place for ladies to be waiting alone.’ He caught Julian’s eye. ‘I will be back momentarily,’ he said to his friend.

Never one to be slow on the uptake, Julian nodded.

He would look after Xavier’s guests until he returned.

Xavier glanced over at the Royal Box. Several people had arrived over there, and one of them was the Count of Upsal and Lipsweiger. Strangely, he and Barbara’s father were in the back corner of the box and engaged in an intense discussion.

He ushered Barbara and Miss Lowell out of the box and down the stairs to the foyer.

‘What a pleasant evening, Duke,’ Miss Lowell said, opening and closing her fan with a snap. ‘A very fine performance. I shall be sorry to miss the end, but…’

‘You may stay if you wish, Aunt,’ Barbara said, her voice chilly.

‘No, no. If you are not well, I must make sure you are looked after. Your father would expect it.’

‘Father has a great many expectations.’ This time her voice was like ice.

The footman he had sent in search of their carriage strode into the lobby. He touched his hat.

‘The carriage is waiting, Your Grace.’

Xavier escorted the ladies outside and down the steps. He handed Miss Lowell in first and then Barbara.

He held her hand a little longer than was needed and she glanced up. The anxiety in her eyes took him aback .

He wanted to offer her some sort of assurance. ‘I am sure you will feel more yourself in the morning.’

She shook her head slightly as if to indicate his words were no help at all.

He released her hand, closed the door and watched their carriage move off.

He needed to get to the bottom of what was wrong between Barbara and her father.

‘I expected a warmer welcome, daughter,’ the Ambassador said, the morning after Barbara had attended the theatre with Xavier.

Barbara lifted her chin. He must think she would feel blessed to have him call.

When she was a child, she would have done anything to gain his attention. And he hadn’t taken the slightest bit of notice. Until he’d realised she could be of use.

At first, she had basked in his warmth towards her, until she’d realised he cared nothing for her, and only cared about the advantage she brought to further his ambition.

He had done well out of her marriages. He was now not just a minor diplomat but an ambassador to Portugal with a medal to prove his worth to the crown.

‘How good of you to call, Father,’ she said coolly. ‘It would have been nice to have been forewarned of your presence in London.’

‘Barbara,’ Aunt Lenore said, fussing with her lace collar. ‘Your papa is a busy man. You cannot expect—’

‘But I do expect,’ she interrupted. ‘I expect him to show common courtesy and inform me of his intended arrival.’

‘Nonsense, child.’ Her father flicked dismissive fingers. ‘When the King commands my presence, I cannot be dawdling about writing letters. I come post-haste.’

‘I doubt the King knows you exist.’ The King didn’t know anyone existed if what Barbara heard was true. The King was completely mad.

Her father glared at her. ‘What has you out of sorts? Your aunt tells me you left the play early last night because of a headache. I hope it is not measles. I gather it is going about.’

‘If you knew anything about me, Father, you would know I had measles when I was six. But, of course, you would not recall. I was at school at the time.’ At school all alone and terrified she was going to die.

The nurse had been horrible to her, because father had forgotten to pay the school fees for more than one term.

Truth to tell, he’d probably forgotten he had a daughter.

‘Tsk-tsk. Barbara. Do not speak to your father with such disrespect,’ Aunt Lenore said.

She would sooner not speak to him at all.

‘Why are you here, Father?’

‘Cannot a father visit his own daughter?’

He could. But he rarely wanted to. ‘How very paternal of you.’

‘I was pleased to see you wearing the Lipsweiger parure last night, my dear. It becomes you. You should wear it as often as possible.’

Suspicion writhed in her stomach. Father never asked her to do anything unless there was a purpose behind it. ‘Why would you care?’

He shrugged. ‘It adds to your consequence. I hear you have been making a bit of a stir. Only the wealthiest can get away with that sort of thing. Might also attract an advantageous offer.’

Her stomach dipped. ‘I am not looking to attract any sort of offer.’ She should not wear the jewels ever again.

‘Listen to your father, dear,’ Aunt Lenore said. ‘He understands these things.’

He might. But then again, he might not.

‘It is also important to your claim that you wear them,’ Father said. ‘In public. Where they can be seen. Evidence of legitimate ownership.’

She needed evidence? ‘Are you saying there is a question of my legitimate ownership?’

Her father puffed out his chest. He always did that when he wanted to appear more important than he was.

‘Certainly not. But it wouldn’t do to let people think there was.’

Father and his plots. She would never understand what was going through his devious mind.

He gave her a considering look. ‘I hear you and the new Count are as thick as thieves.’

She stiffened. ‘What do you mean? We are friends, that is all.’

Her father pulled at his bottom lip, the way he did when he was plotting some scheme to his advantage. ‘He’s looking for a wife.’

Her breath caught in her throat. ‘Marry Charles? Are you mad?’

He shrugged. ‘I wouldn’t have to provide a dowry. He would get what he sees as his family’s jewels. And your future would be assured. I know you like the fellow. You spent enough time in his company.’

Her future would be assured the moment she reached twenty-five years—or managed to sell the jewels that were rightfully hers.

Yes, she liked Charles. Yes, she had spent a great deal of time in his company, because he was the only one who ever showed her any sympathy after she discovered her husband was a despicable philanderer who had only married her to ensure her father would help him gain his lands back after the war ended.

Now father wanted her to marry his brother?

‘I have no intention of marrying again. Ever.’

‘Child, you are being ridiculous.’

‘I am not a child.’

‘You are certainly behaving like one.’

Aunt Lenore wrung her hands together. ‘Barbara, you are young. And you do like him. I know you do. Such a charming man. If only such a man had offered for me.’

She liked Charles as a brother-in-law. But not as a husband. She shook her head. ‘No.’

Her father shot her a quick glance. ‘There is another way. ’

Barbara held her breath. Would he finally agree to let her go her own way?

‘You could marry this duke of yours. If he will have you.’

‘The Duke?’ she said faintly. She turned to her aunt. ‘What on earth have you been saying?’

‘I only said he seemed interested.’

‘And when did you say this?’

‘When I wrote to your father, of course.’

She needed to nip this in the bud. ‘The Duke has no interest in marrying me, and even if he did, I have no interest in marrying him.’

‘His Grace the Duke of Derbridge,’ the butler announced.

Barbara wanted the floor to open and swallow her whole. The Duke must have heard her words; she had spoken loudly and with vehemence.

Even so, her heart leaped at the sight of his handsome face. The bruises had faded as to be almost imperceptible, unless you knew where to look for them. And the cut on his lip was little more than a tiny mark.

He looked absolutely gorgeous.

If he had heard what she’d said, he showed no sign of it. He smiled pleasantly as he entered the room. ‘I beg your pardon, Miss Lowell,’ he said. ‘Your man did not tell me you had visitors.’

Father looked like a fox who had just been granted access to a hen house. He stepped forward, hand outstretched, lips in a wide smile. ‘A pleasure indeed, Your Grace. March at your service.’

Xavier shook his hand. ‘Lord March. I have heard of your work at the Congress.’

Everyone had heard of it. Father had made sure of it.

No doubt Xavier thought her father the best of men.

Bitterness swept through her.