Page 11 of The Duke’s Indecent Scandal (Indecent Dukes #1)

Chapter Ten

G regory

The greys he had hitched to his curricle tossed their heads as he pulled them to a halt in front of Bolton House. They were high steppers, a matched pair, and incredibly well trained. Though they loved to run, they responded to the reins docilely enough, which was important for a jaunt around Hyde Park. At this time of day, they were hardly going to be able to do any racing.

“How do I look?” his mother asked from beside him, reaching up to test her hat and assure herself that it had not changed position from where she’d pinned it before leaving.

“Perfect,” he replied, handing his reins over to a footman who approached from the side. Then he stepped out of the curricle and came around to help his mother down from her spot. She beamed at him. Before she could say anything else, the front door of Bolton House opened and a scowling Sebastian stepped out, followed by an awestruck—and very brightly dressed—Tiffany.

“What is that?” Sebastian called out, still scowling, as he came down the stairs.

“My curricle,” Gregory said cheerfully once Sebastian was close enough to hear him without having to raise his voice. He quickly realized that Sebastian meant for them all to drive around in the Bolton landau together, but this would be far more effective in portraying the story they were trying to sell. Plus, it would give him and his future wife a chance to get to know each other better without raising any eyebrows. “Tiffany and I will ride in here, so we can… talk. After all, we are very much in love and have a great deal to talk about.”

He raised his eyebrows at Sebastian, whose scowl deepened as he tried to muster an argument against the idea. Tiffany came up beside her brother, standing silently and staring at the curricle and the greys before she finally focused her gaze on him.

It was when she looked at him that her attractiveness came through. Today’s dress was even less flattering than yesterday's had been, but the features of her face could not be hidden away. Why she favored the yellows and oranges that made her complexion appear rather sickly, he had no idea, but perhaps it would work in his favor. After all, the rakes and roués of the ton tended to chase beauty, wit, and a certain open-mindedness. He should know, being one of them. The less other men were interested in his wife, the happier a husband he would be.

“My lady,” he said, holding out his hand to take hers. Even through the fabric of their gloves, he could feel the heat of her fingers as he bowed over her hand. At the last moment, he turned her hand so he could drop a kiss on the inside of her wrist, and she let out a little gasp.

Sebastian growled. Actually growled.

This was more fun than he’d expected, but Gregory was also very aware that he did not want to push his friend too far. They were to be brothers, regardless, but he did not want to lose his friend in the transition.

Straightening up, he gave Tiffany a wink.

The door to Bolton House opened again, and because he was watching her, he saw Tiffany flinch before she tugged her fingers away from his. Frowning, he turned to see what caused such a reaction, but it was only her mother coming toward them. A wide smile was on her face as her gaze flitted between himself and his mother.

He had met the Duchess of Bolton several times before, though it had been years.

“Your Grace,” he said, holding out his hand in much the same way he had for Tiffany when she reached them. She put her hand in his, and he bowed over it, eschewing the kiss that he’d given her daughter. “It is lovely to see you again. May I introduce my own mother, the Duchess of Clarence.”

“Soon-to-be dowager duchess, much to my delight,” his mother said, beaming at Tiffany before turning her attention to Tiffany’s mother.

Oh, bollocks. He’d made a hash of things again. He’d been so distracted by Sebastian’s ire, he’d forgotten to introduce his mother to his fiancé. This whole courtship thing was damnably difficult. Hopefully, things would be easier after today.

“Yes.” The Duchess of Bolton’s smile thinned and then broadened again. “Lovely to meet you as well.” They exchanged their greetings, then Gregory introduced Tiffany to his mother. She was quiet, as she had been before, folding her hands in front of her and listening as the two mothers talked.

His mother complimented her bonnet, which he almost wished she had not. He would rather throw the frowsy thing in a fireplace, but the compliment did brighten the look in Tiffany’s eyes. Which was when he remembered that her brother had described her as quite plain—and she had been surprised when he’d called her pretty in the library.

At the time, he’d thought her adorably modest. Now, he wondered if it was more due to her brother’s attitude. Her reaction to any compliment was striking, which meant she did not hear them often enough. He wondered if perhaps her mother had also not realized that her daughter had grown into a beauty.

Well, he was certainly not going to say anything remotely negative about her clothing or appearance. Even if he could not bring himself to compliment her dress or hat, he would not denigrate them either. Not in front of her. Perhaps once they were married, he could attempt to influence her style… discreetly. Or perhaps not. Especially if it were off-putting to other rakes.

But he was very much going to enjoy taking the clothes off of her.

Perhaps they could spend the majority of their time together in the nude. That might be for the best.

“Clarence,” Sebastian growled again, elbowing him in the side, which was when he realized that he was staring at Tiffany, who was staring back at him with some concern. He had been picturing what she might look like naked, in front of her brother, her mother, and his own mother.

Bloody hell.

He gave himself a shake and smiled to cover his discomfiture.

“My apologies. Shall we go then?” he asked, stepping forward to take Tiffany’s hand and wrap it around his forearm.

“Wait, where are you taking my daughter?” Tiffany’s mother asked, her voice going higher and shriller as Gregory stepped away.

“To my curricle with me.” He winked at her. “Do not fret, Your Grace. I shall return her to you in nothing less than perfect condition.”

“This will give us a chance to talk about the happy couple and the upcoming wedding,” his mother said when the Duchess of Bolton frowned, looking rather unhappy at the idea of being separated from her daughter. No doubt, feeling protective, especially after she’d already been compromised, but they were going on a ride through Hyde Park.

Having Tiffany at his side in the curricle while the two mothers followed with her brother the duke would only benefit all of them, and especially the picture they were trying to paint.

Besides, he wanted his soon-to-be bride to himself for a little while.

Tiffany

Seated beside a rakish duke as he drove her into Hyde Park with two high steppers pulling his curricle was like something out of a fairy tale. Except that she was no princess. Still, for a moment, she was able to pretend.

“Which is how I ended up with these two,” the duke finished, nodding his head at the two greys prancing in front of them. They preened as they moved, as if aware of the attention the curricle was drawing and assuming it was all due to them. Tiffany rather wished. She was all too aware of the wide eyes turning toward her and Clarence—no, Gregory. She needed to start at least trying to think of him as Gregory.

“They are lovely. Did you train them yourself?” she asked.

“Not at all. But I worked with the trainer I hired.” He eyed her. “Have you ever driven a curricle?”

“I… ah… no.” She had not been expecting a question in return. Her fingers twitched as she looked at the greys, then moved her gaze over to his hands on the reins. Though she actually did know how to, her mother had pounded it into her head that admitting to such a thing was not ladylike. She was very specific about the things Tiffany was to learn, and handling the reins was not one of the items on her exhaustive list. But Tiffany liked to learn. “How did you assist the trainer?”

Rather than answering, Gregory glanced over at her, raising his eyebrow.

“Do you ever talk about yourself?”

“Myself?” she stared up at him, her attention jerked away from both the horses and the numerous passersby watching them. “I… my mother always told me it was forward to talk about myself and that I should encourage gentlemen to talk about themselves instead.”

“Well, that might be true when catching a gentleman, but I am already caught.” He grinned, winking at her. “Therefore, I would like to know more about you. Especially seeing as we are deeply, madly in love. I propose that for every question I answer, you must answer one as well.”

“Oh… I suppose that makes sense.” Though, the idea felt very uncomfortable. She ignored the way he spoke of being deeply, madly in love, though when he’d said the words, her stomach had turned over in a very particular manner. He was only teasing. “What would you like to know?”

“Well, as you are a duke’s sister, I presume that you are well trained in running a household, watercolors, embroidery, dancing, and some kind of instrument.” Though he did not ask it as a question, he paused as if prodding her to provide the kind of instrument. Tiffany could not help but smile since he was getting an answer without truly asking a question.

“Pianoforte, harp, and flute,” she replied. When he blinked in astonishment, turning his head to shoot her a glance of pure surprise, she blushed and looked away—which meant that her gaze went right to the row of ton ladies in their landaus, all staring at her and Gregory with sharp eyes. Hardly an improvement. She looked back down at the greys. They, at least, were delightful to watch. “I enjoyed my music lessons and wanted to learn different kinds.”

Ladies were only supposed to learn one, but Tiffany liked learning new things. Especially things that required practice that allowed her to be shut away in the music room for hours.

“You are certainly more accomplished than I,” he admitted. “I can sing, but I cannot play a single instrument. I never had the patience for it.”

“You, impatient?” she quipped, startling a laugh from him, which made her smile in delight. He had laughed at one of her jests! Some of the tension in her shoulders lessened, and she relaxed, realizing how tight her muscles had been until this very moment.

Not that they knew each other very well, but from everything she had observed over the past day, he was not a particularly patient fellow. Very much the opposite of both her and her brother.

Still chuckling, he nodded at another man in a curricle, who was coming toward them with a matched pair of bays pulling him. The gentleman came to a halt. Tiffany leaned toward Gregory to look at the crest on the other man’s curricle, and her eyes widened. The Duke of Howard. Another rake. Another duke who inherited his title after the explosion that had taken her father. Also friends with her brother, of course, but she had not met him before.

“Clarence.” The Duke of Howard nodded at him, his amused blue gaze going back and forth between her and Gregory, then to behind them, where her brother and the mothers were sitting in the Bolton landau. Tiffany almost wanted to turn to look at them, but she knew her mother would disapprove if she caught Tiffany looking.

Ladies did not turn about in carriages to see behind them.

“Howard. Have you met my fiancé, Lady Tiffany Bolton?” Gregory grinned widely. “Lady Tiffany, my friend, the Duke of Howard.”

“Lady Tiffany, a pleasure to meet your acquaintance.” Howard half bowed in his seat, pressing his hand to his heart. His blond locks were tucked neatly under his hat, his grin sparkling with as much charm as Gregory, and yet she did not feel the same tug toward him that she did toward the man at her side.

“Thank you, Your Grace,” she nodded her head at him as low as she could. Obviously, she could not curtsy. Somehow, her mother had never drilled her on what to do when meeting a duke while sitting in a carriage, so she did her best. “It is a pleasure to meet you.”

“Shall I congratulate you on your engagement, then?” He raised a questioning eyebrow at Gregory, asking for more information, waiting for a lead to follow.

Clearly, the camaraderie and support that she had witnessed between her brother and Gregory went beyond the two of them and to the other dukes. It was more than several of his friends being willing to ask his sister to dance—Howard was very perceptively waiting for the line that Gregory wanted to feed to the ton and ensuring he did not say anything out of turn before he knew where to go.

“Her brother is very put out that we could not wait till the end of the Season to make our announcement,” Gregory said, leaning forward as though he was imparting some sort of secret, though he actually raised his voice to ensure that those nearby could hear. It did not escape Tiffany’s notice that they were hardly the only carriages who had stopped. Yes, it was causing a blockage along the path, but no one was complaining, likely because they were all eavesdropping. “I did promise her a proper Season, after all, but love cannot be denied.”

He shrugged as a gasp went along the row. Quite a few of those who had heard him say the word ‘love’ were suddenly dashing off, in a hurry to be the first to spread the word to those too far away to hear. Tiffany’s jaw nearly dropped in shock at the reaction—it was so very blatant . Not everyone dashed away, of course, though many appeared as though they wanted to, but they seemed to realize the conversation was not over yet.

Howard’s smile widened.

“Yes, well, how lucky for you that you do not have to hide your feelings any longer.” There was a slight question at the end of his sentence, as though he wanted reassurance that he’d followed the right hint.

Gregory nodded, reaching out to take Tiffany’s hand in his.

“It was going to be a trial, attempting to hide our feelings for one another for an entire Season.” He lifted her gloved fingers to his lips, kissing the soft kid leather rather than her wrist this time, to her relief. “Though I did not mean to cause a scandal, of course.”

“Of course,” Howard replied, nodding, his lips quirking with amusement. Tiffany was realizing that he and Gregory were a great deal alike, both far less serious than her brother. “You would not want to damage your bride’s reputation.”

“No, but now, at least I do not have to wait. You know how I hate waiting.” He winked at Tiffany again, lowering their hands back down and giving her fingers a squeeze before releasing them. She found herself smiling back at him in a rather giddy manner.

He is only pretending.

She knew he was. Yet she could not help but be charmed.

Well, there was no harm in being charmed by a charming fellow, was there? The charm was real enough, even if the love was a pretense.

“Very good,” Howard said with a nod. “I will pass the word on to our friends. We will see you this evening?”

“Yes, I will see you at White’s.” Gregory nodded back to him, and it seemed that more passed with their mutual recognition than mere acknowledgment. Tiffany was curious about the interaction, but she did not dare ask, in case she was imagining things.

Despite their pretense, she did not know the man beside her very well at all.

But she was starting to want to.