Page 3 of Matters of a Duke’s Heart
Spencer Dunne, the Duke of Langdon, stalked through Vauxhall Gardens, his eyes pointedly fixed ahead. He did not make eye contact with anybody, even as he was aware of the eyes that tried to catch his.
He made his way down the Grand Walk, emerging from the other path he had been on, his thoughts firmly distracted from the lady he had accidentally walked into not long ago.
He had glanced back once when he reached the turn onto another path, finding her hurriedly making her way in the opposite direction.
There had been a moment where Spencer had paused, considering going back, until a couple had entered the path, spotted him, and forced him onwards with their whisperings.
Despite his rank, Spencer felt as though he was constantly trying to run away from them all.
All, with their gossip and their speculation about his life, their casts of judgement when he had done nothing to them, nothing to slight them. Nothing to encourage or dissuade the rumors, either.
Why bother wasting his breath? The ton would believe what it wanted to, and he had seen his name in the scandal sheets enough times already, the damage to his reputation already done. He didn’t need to add more to with a confrontation.
Spencer grimaced as he approached the large crowd gathered around the Orchestra, but thankfully, the brown-haired earl he was looking for stood away from the crush of guests that day, already looking around. Once he clapped eyes on Spencer, he smiled brightly.
“And here I thought you would never show up. What time do you call this?” Rupert Rinhart, the Earl of Wexley, regarded Spencer as he walked up to him.
His friend looked rather amused. “Although, by the sour look on your face I am starting to think it best if you had not showed. Do not scare away the ladies, Spencer.”
“The ladies will be preoccupied with the fireworks,” Spencer answered gruffly, sliding his hands into his pockets.
His eyes did not scan the surrounding part of Vauxhall Gardens.
He definitely did not search for an auburn-haired lady, nor did he wonder if she had made it back safely.
“Crowds and loud noises are two of my most disagreeable things. Why did you talk me into this, Wexley?”
“Last week, ballrooms and marriage-minded matrons were your disagreeable things,” Rupert countered. “And you are a duke. Heaven forbid you actually act like one and show your face properly and make conversation with others.”
“I am making conversation with you.”
“And only me. Expand your horizons. I am simply here to remind you of how you ought to behave. Do follow my example at your earliest convenience.”
Spencer shot Rupert a scathing glare, while Rupert merely looked back at him, unphased, but he couldn’t fight the grin off his face for very long.
“And to haul me to Vauxhall Gardens of all places,” Spencer muttered, unable to help his annoyance.
“It is a marvelous place, is it not?” Rupert laughed quietly.
“Scandalous,” Spencer corrected. “There are too many hidden pathways, too many dark corners. I do not trust any of it.”
Rupert paused where he had turned his attention to an assessment of the ladies in attendance and turned to look at him again. “Something has happened.”
Spencer clenched his jaw and nodded. “I had a run-in with a young lady on Grand South Walk, not far from where it would divide into Lover’s Walk, actually. She approached me asking for help, claiming to be lost. I turned her away, even though she looked rather helpless.”
“Did you recognize her?”
Spencer shook his head. “As you mentioned, I scarcely attend these sort of things and do not expand my horizons. Not recognizing her is one of the reasons I dismissed her. You know how some women can be. Their mothers will arrange a meeting intended to trap men into marriage. It is terrible, and I just do not trust anybody in regard to that. One moment, she could have been alone, needing help, and the next I am taking her as a wife after we are caught alone together. Who can be certain of genuineness?”
“Or you could have turned her away, as you did, and find out later that she got very lost and was truly just a girl wandering alone. She asked you for help, and she trusted you to provide it. Goodness knows how you ever seemed approachable, though.”
Despite his friend’s teasing, Spencer did also wonder such a thing. Rupert was always trying to wipe the scowl off Spencer’s face with a witty comment, but although Rupert smiled easier, quicker, he, too, could possess a fearsome, stoic expression.
“I am sure she found her way back just fine,” Spencer sighed. “If I see her I will apologize for my impulsiveness. Speaking of ladies, though, where are your sisters?”
Rupert sighed, nodding to the cluster of women up ahead, lost in the throng of guests, with hair the same color as Rupert, all boasting different styles.
The twins, Georgina and Amelia, danced with another young lady, while the eldest of the sisters, Beatrice, watched over them with pursued lips, as if she was their chaperone rather than Rupert.
She resembled Rupert most, and Spencer wondered if his friend saw the similarities in himself and his siblings.
“How are things going with their chaperoning?” Spencer asked.
Rupert shook his head, letting out a short laugh.
“Beatrice has taken it upon herself to decline proposals until she sees the twins courted. Georgina and Amelia had a very successful debutante ball last month, and received some offers, but they insist on playing games with their suitors, making them guess who is who.”
“Ah, and if the guess is wrong…”
“They reject the suitor,” Rupert finished.
“It is exhausting and frustrating, and Beatrice is telling them they do not have the time to be foolish. My mother has written from Wexley Hall in the countryside, saying that she will intervene if the behavior continues, but I would rather it does not come to that. Be glad you have no siblings, Spencer. They are nightmares in themselves.”
Spencer fell quiet for a moment. Perhaps a sister to oversee the marriage of would not be so terrible in exchange for what he did have responsibility over.
“Sisters, no, but I fear as though I will blink one day, and Alexander will be the most eligible bachelor in the ballrooms, and I will be handing the dukedom over to him, hoping he does not break the hearts of too many disappointed ladies in his pursuit of a wife.”
Rupert let out a quiet laugh. “For his own sake, I hope Alexander does not take after you with your lack of social skills. That way, he will have a far better time on the marriage mart. However, you must first focus on your own pursuit of a wife.”
Alexander’s small face rose in Spencer’s mind. He thought of the pout he always sported, and the way his cheeks were often red. He was always pranking his governess before sprinting away, always red-faced with mirth.
“He is only seven, at least,” Spencer sighed. “He has the whole world to experience before he even has to start learning what marriage means. And you are correct, I am turning my focus to that…”
Rupert took his gaze off his sisters for a moment to stare at him, surprised. “You desire to be wed again?”
“Desire? Heavens, no. Have a need?” He sighed heavily.
“Alexander needs a mother again, even if his actual mother was hardly anybody he would have looked up to …” He paused, forcing his thoughts past the lingering grief and anger that rose whenever he thought of Lady Sophia Dunne, his late wife and Alexander’s mother. “I want him to have more stability.”
Spencer pinched the bridge of his nose as Rupert carefully asked, “what has the little spirited boy done now?”
“Only this morning, he asked his governess for some milk and biscuits to accompany his lesson, claiming he had slept poorly. Once she left the room, Alexander snuck out of the window—ground floor, thank Heavens—and when Miss Nightingale returned she found him clambering up the apple tree outside. She called for me, and all he did was giggle. Giggle.”
“Perhaps it is because he knows you will not do a great deal to reprimand him,” Rupert guessed gently. “You are easy on him due to your own guilt of not being more present for him.”
“That is why I hope he can have a mother figure. Somebody who can… help me… and be there for him. You know more ladies through your sisters, and meet with more lords who may have siblings, daughters. I have my heir, so I do not need more children, and this might soften the request you make to any lady you think is eligible. If you put together a list for me to consider, I will think more seriously.”
He could still see his friend’s surprise, but Rupert nodded.
“I will. There are several unwed ladies from Beatrice’s debut Season that I can first look into.
You will want somebody who is not so recently debuted if you are primarily bringing her in as a mother figure.
A younger debut will simply want the jewels and lifestyle of a duchess. ”
Spencer grimaced, having not given that a lot of thought, but he hoped for a lady in her early twentieth year regardless.
He was eight and twenty, and he did not want such a large age gap that he would feel too out of his depth, nor did he want a young, blushing debutante expecting too much, or somebody that would have her friends visiting every day.
He grimaced, trying to ignore the anxiety swirling in his stomach.
His eyes once again looked out, hoping to catch a glimpse of auburn hair and the pale lavender dress the lady had worn. I should have escorted her, he thought.
After all, I must wed anyway. Even if she had been tricking me into an arranged meeting to be caught out, at least I would have skipped the effort of finding a wife.
He knew that. Even if the very thought of marriage sent him almost spiraling toward the nearest gentleman’s club to calm his overthinking with a strong drink, Spencer knew he had to do the right thing.
But when the memory of his first marriage lingered like a terrible shroud over his shoulders, full of silent rooms and laughter that had only ever come mockingly, Spencer was not certain he was comfortable to go through with his plan.
Could he endure the constant worry his last marriage had brought him? Could he endure watching the clock, the vigilance that caused him more sleepless nights than any marital intimacy brought?
But he had to.
For Alexander’s sake. He had not been a good father, but he could do something for his son.
“You know,” Rupert spoke up, “I could begin the list now. I hear there will be music played after the fireworks. It will be a most romantic setting for you to get ahead and ask a lady to dance. It has been some time since you took to the dancefloor.”
“And it will remain that way,” Spencer countered. “I need a wife, that is all. It can be a formal arrangement without any frills attached.”
“Truly, Spencer? You are allowed to have fun when it comes to matters of the heart.”
“My heart is not important,” he said, his voice tight. I learned that lesson the hard way. “I just need names, Wexley.”
“Of course,” his friend finally conceded. “Lady Cardale is hosting a ball next week. I will have a list prepared for you in time to give it to you that night, if you choose to attend. If not, I will bring it to you the following morning.”
“Thank you,” he said. “You will be attending?”
Rupert nodded. “As you search for your duchess, I must search for a countess. My mother has already recommended me several ladies, so I will ask them to dance. Although, if news spreads of you looking for a wife, I hardly think any other men will have a chance.” He laughed lightheartedly, meaning well, but Spencer grimaced.
His stomach already clenched at the thought of the fluttering fans and battling eyelashes, the great effort of complimenting him, the ways women faked a swoon to be caught or noticed. Hopefully, the rumors would not spread too fast or too strongly.
“I will consider attending,” he muttered eventually.
“Good.” Rupert smiled widely at him, clapping his shoulder. “Now, if you will excuse me, I see Beatrice being spoken to by Lord Wetherby, and I heard he recently has become a marquess. I do not want to risk her waving him away.”
Rupert quickly hurried over to his eldest sister, momentarily leaving Spencer standing on the fringes of the Orchestra, alone.
He looked out at the crowd, wondering who might find their way onto Rupert’s list. He swore his eyes caught on a lady whose hair turned copper beneath the lights of the Orchestra, as she danced, but when he looked closer, she was gone.