Page 6 of The Duke’s Reluctant Muse (The Untamed Nobles #3)

“I think the Duke of Nottingham likes you.”

Lifting her head from her writing, Elizabeth let her gaze swing across the room towards her brother, a little uncertain as to whether or not he was jesting with her.

“I think you made an excellent impression, despite the fact that you had to remind me to introduce you!”

Still uncertain, Elizabeth pouted, catching the gleam in her brother’s eye. “Indeed, I did have to remind you and whilst the introduction and the conversation went well, you should not be teasing me so. I know that you were aware of my interest in being introduced to the Duke, but do not make up suggestions about his interest in me thereafter. There is no need for it.”

Her brother’s eyebrows lifted. “I am not jesting with you, my dear sister. I think that the Duke of Nottingham must think quite highly of you.”

“Well, that is a foolish consideration.” With a slight toss of her head, Elizabeth returned to her letters. “For we were only introduced last evening and, in that time, we had only one single conversation.”

“In which you guided the Duke – and myself – through the difficulties that my own foolishness caused.” With a slight scowl, her brother shook his head. “I should not have spoken as I did. Some of the things I said were a little less than considerate.”

Elizabeth smiled at this, recalling how she had been forced to engage the Duke in conversation about travel to and from his estate rather than permit him to answer the question his brother had put to him, all about his ‘past difficulties’, if she recalled correctly. “It was a little thoughtless.”

“But recall,” her brother said quickly, pushing himself up in his seat a little more, “that I knew that you were already fully aware of everything that the Duke has been struggling with. I quite forgot that he is unaware of that fact!”

“And we are not going to tell him,” Elizabeth reminded him, firmly.

“Of course, of course.” Her brother waved a hand, vaguely. “Now tell me, what did you think of him?”

Considering the question, Elizabeth let her thoughts return to the moment she had realized this tall, broad shouldered, handsome gentleman was none other than the Duke of Nottingham. Her eyes had flared, surprise squeezing her heart as she had taken him in, seeing the vivid blue of his eyes, the strong jaw and the dark hair which fell carelessly across his forehead. His demeanor had occasionally been somewhat devoid of warmth, yet she attributed this to his evident concern over her attentive presence. It seemed he found it rather challenging to converse freely with her brother in her company, as if he deemed it more fitting to maintain a certain decorum in her presence. “I found him amiable,” she answered, choosing not to tell her brother that she had also thought the Duke remarkably handsome. “He was clearly very glad to see you again. Your friendship must have been very strong indeed.”

“It was. And I hope, still is.” Lord Dennington smiled though it was a little absent, his gaze turning away from her as he looked out across the room. “The Duke and I have been friends since we were boys and thus, I know almost everything there is to know about him and he about me!”

With a slight tilt of her head, Elizabeth sharpened her gaze upon her brother. “I can understand that you wish to keep yourself away from any sort of gossip and be assured that I do not want to spread any sort of rumour or the like… but can you tell me even a little as to why the Duke has hidden himself away at his estate for so long?”

Her brother’s lips flattened. “Elizabeth, it is not my situation to speak about. If the Duke wishes to share it, then he shall.”

“But he is not likely to share it with me!” Her curiosity getting the better of her, Elizabeth set her needlework to one side. “I think that I might be able to assist him better if I had more awareness.”

Lord Dennington’s frown grew heavy. “I shall not tell you all,” he said, after a few moments of silence. “It is not my place to say, though I can understand why you might think it will be of aid to you.” With a small sigh, he sat up straight and then looked directly at her. “The Duke has a sister. She is now married but there was a time of great difficulty with her – though it was not her doing, of course. It made it appear to society that the Duke was a heavy handed, angry and ungrateful fellow, however, though, in fact, all he was doing was protecting his sister’s reputation. It was a great relief to him for her to marry and settle into a contented match, but I quite understood his need to hide away from society thereafter.”

“Goodness.” Elizabeth frowned, as her brother clicked his tongue and shook his head. “That sounds quite dreadful, whatever it was that took place.”

“It was.” Lord Dennington sighed gently. “Lady Harkins, as she is now, had an excellent dowry at the time of her entry into society. That, and the fact that her brother was a Duke, made her an enticing prospect to many of the gentlemen.”

A tightening of Elizabeth’s stomach told her that she was not at all pleased to hear such a thing.

“I think that the poor creature was quite broken by some of what was done – or sought to be done to her,” Lord Dennington continued, making Elizabeth’s heart soften in sympathy for the lady. “But all is well now, which is excellent. Though,” he continued, wincing lightly, “I can well understand why the Duke wished to step away from society for a time thereafter. He certainly did not wish to be about those who had injured him and his family so – or had attempted to do so, at least.”

“Of course, I quite understand.”

“I think,” her brother added, with a slightly wry smile, “that the Duke saw that his sister’s title and dowry made her a desirous connection to the gentlemen of the ton . Part of me believes that he thought that he would also be seen in such a way, that he would have no difficulty in finding a young lady to seek out. But it has not been that way for him. The scandal which he managed to avoid has left him looking like a difficult, onerous gentleman with a temper to match.”

“But you do not think that he is truly so?”

Her brother smiled. “He was a little rude when we spoke, I am aware of that and certainly he did not often smile but all in all, I think him an excellent fellow.” His smile grew, the twinkle returning to his eye. “All it will require is for a young lady of quality to see it.”

Elizabeth chuckled, despite the inner sorrow which lingered in her soul over all that the Duke and his sister had endured. “That may be so, but recall that I am here to assist the Duke in finding a bride, rather than offering myself up to him!”

“But what if you do find yourself drawn to him?”

Considering this and seeing her brother’s question as frank and honest, Elizabeth shook her head. “Even if it were to be so, I would have to confess to him that I have been the one responding to his letters and I do not think that such a conversation would go particularly well.” With a smile, she shrugged. “It will not come to that, however, I am sure of it.”

Just as she spoke, a gentle rap at the door signalled the presence of one of their household staff. Calling for them to enter, Elizabeth observed as the butler presented three missives to her brother. It was not until the butler had quit the room, however, that her brother, grinning, rose to his feet and handed Elizabeth one of them.

“I think the Duke requires a little more aid,” he said, with a wink. “I do hope that whatever he writes will be shared with me, however. I should like to know what he is saying.”

“I shall read it to you.” Opening it – and ignoring the frisson of anticipation which whirled in her, Elizabeth let her eyes dance across the first few lines before clearing her throat and beginning to read.

“‘My dear friend, I write to tell you just how delighted I was to see you again. I do hope that you are not too fatigued after the ball though I was very sorry indeed to hear of your health concerns. I pray that this time in London will be a restorative. Might I also state how good it was to be introduced to your sister. It was a pleasure to make her acquaintance.’”

“You see?” Lord Dennington chuckled, as Elizabeth rolled her eyes back at him. “I told you that you made an excellent impression upon him!”

Gesturing to the letter, Elizabeth waited until her brother fell silent again before continuing. “‘I confess that I have been staying back from society for a sennight or so, finding the sharp looks and the whispers which seem to accompany my presence becoming a little too many to overcome. There is a part of my heart which wishes to make known to society all that I was forced to do and endure in order to secure Martha’s happiness – and to keep her safe from the scandal – so that they might understand me better and see me the way that I truly am. There is no reason that I could not do such a thing given that Martha is so happy and settled but at the very same time, because she is so contented, there is no need for me to do anything that might upset that. Though in saying that, would it not also make those responsible finally feel the heavy weight of disdain from society upon their shoulders? I confess, I do not know what I am to do and should like to request your advice in that.’”

“No.” Her brother shook his head firmly. “No, he should not say a word.”

“I quite agree. That is what I should advise also.” Her eyes went back to the letter. “‘Finally, I am aware that I did not accept your sister’s request to converse with me so we might both practice given our various difficulties, but the truth is that I have begun to wonder whether or not any of the young ladies in London are as they seem! I have had a warning from Lord Dalton and though I am sure your sister is very good and kind, I fear what she might think of me in my foolishness – and, I also am concerned that even more whispers would be spread. In that regard, again, I should seek your advice though I do not mean any insult.’”

Taking a deep breath and aware of the warmth in her cheeks, Elizabeth lifted her head and looked straight into her brother’s eye. “Well, I confess that I am a little insulted! I am not at all the sort to spread gossip! Nor do I pretend to be anything other than what I am.”

Her brother shrugged. “It seems that Lord Dalton, whatever he has told the Duke, has settled in the man’s mind and made him all the more distrustful of society and the young ladies within it particularly.”

“Then I shall say something!”

“But you cannot, not until you know what it is that Lord Dalton has said.”

Her mind settled, Elizabeth nodded and went to pull out a fresh piece of paper. “I shall write to the Duke directly. I shall ask him what it is that was said and, of course, state that I do not think he ought to say a word to anyone about what has happened in the past.”

“And you must say that you are not in the least bit insulted,” her brother added, as Elizabeth’s lips pursed. “Recall that you are writing as me and therefore, you must say such a thing.”

I shall still state that my character is not in the least bit as he fears, Elizabeth thought to herself, giving her brother a nod. And thereafter, I shall approach the Duke myself and make it quite plain to him that I dislike society’s gossip intently.

“There is a good deal that you are not telling me,” her brother remarked, chuckling when Elizabeth threw him a sharp look. “Very well, very well. I shall not ask you anymore. Rather, I shall respond to these two invitations and state that I shall not be attending but that you, however, would be delighted to come.”

Elizabeth’s head spun around, her breath catching in her chest. “I cannot! I have no chaperone.”

“Ah, but that has all been arranged.” Her brother smiled gently, coming to put one reassuring hand on Elizabeth’s shoulder. “My dear sister, you did not think that I would not make any sort of arrangement for you, did you? Recognising that I cannot attend every occasion, I have made sure that there is another who will chaperone you.”

Elizabeth blinked in surprise. “Who is it?”

“Why,” her brother remarked, with a small smile, “it is the very Duke himself!” His hand lifted. “I am sure you did not quite finish reading the letter, did you? That will confirm it.”

With shock rifling through her, Elizabeth forced her gaze back to the letter and read the final few lines that the Duke had written.

“‘As to the matter of your sister’s chaperoning, though I do not feel at all adequate, I would be glad to do so if it is required.’” Elizabeth stared at the final few words, her breath hitching in her chest, hardly daring to believe that her brother had done such a thing. At some juncture during the gathering, her brother had perhaps broached such a matter with the Duke, without her noticing. Surely there had to be someone else that he could consider for such a thing! Surely there was some distant relation that might be prevailed upon to come to London to chaperone her? Opening her mouth to protest, to tell her brother that she did not think this at all suitable, Elizabeth turned her head to speak to him – but Lord Dennington had already quit the room.

***

“It is very good of you to do this, Your Grace.” Feeling her stomach twisting sharply as she spoke, Elizabeth dared a glance up at the Duke who only gave her a nod whilst, at the very same time, seeming to refuse to look at her. It had taken her some discussion with her brother to convince Elizabeth to do as had been arranged, for the thought of being present with the Duke and having him as her chaperone had been a deeply uncomfortable one, though Elizabeth had not been quite able to understand why. Her brother had insisted that the Duke would do just as was required, having done so already with his sister some years ago but it was not his ability which concerned her. She was not known to him and nor he to her, and yet somehow she had to stand beside him, walk with him, having him as her almost constant companion as she made her way through society?

“I have not yet been at a soiree this Season,” she continued, feeling the urge to speak even though there was very little for her to speak given that they were simply waiting to greet the host for the evening. “I am sure that you have been to a good many.”

“There is very little need for you to converse with me, Miss Jeffries, if you do not wish to.”

Elizabeth swallowed tightly, seeing the Duke’s eyes flicker with something unspoken. Could he see in her eyes that there was concern in her heart? Did he see that she was worried about being present with him and felt the absence of her brother keenly? Or was it that he simply did not want her to speak?

“The evening will go very well, I am sure,” the Duke continued, his blue eyes catching her gaze for only a moment before pulling away again. “You will speak to many a gentleman and lady, make new acquaintances, eat and drink and then it will be time to enjoy whatever entertainment is offered. That is all that it will be though I am sure you will think it an excellent evening regardless of what takes place.”

Elizabeth swallowed hard, giving him a small nod before pulling her gaze away again. She felt herself a little berated by him, wondering if he thought her foolish in some way. Standing in silence as they walked slowly together towards their host – Lord Templeton – Elizabeth pressed her lips flat together, silently wondering if the Duke had received and read her letter to him, though he still believed that it was her brother who had written it. Within the letter, she had assured him that there was no insult taken but that there was, also, no need for any sort of concern when it came to Elizabeth and gossip. She had stated quite clearly that there was no thought of gossip, that it was not something that either of them tolerated and that he could trust her without hesitation. Whether the Duke would accept that or not, Elizabeth could not tell.

He does seem to be rather staid, she thought to herself, slowly approaching their host for a greeting. He has not greeted me warmly, has not made any attempt at conversation and has, in fact, attempted to keep me silent so I do not have to speak to him either! Her brow furrowed. Mayhap I shall write to him as my brother and express how he ought to behave in order to be amiable!

“Good evening.” Lord Templeton beamed at her, though his gaze quickly went to the Duke. “Ah, Your Grace! How delightful it is to see you this evening.”

“Thank you for your invitation.” The Duke bowed, then threw a glance to Elizabeth. “I am chaperoning Miss Elizabeth Jeffries for this evening, for her brother, Lord Dennington, is a little unwell.”

“Miss Jeffries, of course.” Again, Lord Templeton inclined his head, recognition in his expression now. “I do hope your brother will recover quite soon.”

“He is only resting,” Elizabeth answered, with a smile. “Thank you, Lord Templeton.”

With another nod, their host gestured to the door of the drawing room and the Duke strode towards it, leaving Elizabeth to follow behind. Elizabeth took in a deep breath, setting her shoulders and lifting her chin as she walked into the room, a little nervous about what she might find there.

To her surprise, though many glanced towards her and then looked to the Duke, none came directly to speak with him. It was surprising for she had seen him speaking with many a gentleman at the ball when they had first been introduced but now, it seemed, no-one was eager to come to greet him. Had he truly such a dark reputation?

“I am not certain that… ” The Duke began to say something, lines drawing across his forehead as he looked at her, only to shake his head and then turn away with a sigh. Elizabeth stayed where she was, seeing many an eye turning towards her, perhaps wondering why she was here alone or if she was truly being chaperoned by the Duke – the Duke that no-one appeared to desire to speak with! Forcing a smile to her lips, Elizabeth made her steps meander after the Duke, though he had now gone to fetch something to drink and had not seemed to think that she might like something also. Had he quite forgotten her? Or was it that he thought that, in bringing her to the soiree, his work was quite done? The nervousness in her stomach grew all the more as she saw one lady whispering behind her hand to another, her eyes lingering on Elizabeth, though they darted away the moment Elizabeth lifted an eyebrow in question.

I will not be overcome.

Swallowing her fear, Elizabeth turned her head to look at the painting on the wall, pretending to feign an interest in the landscape painted there whilst, at the very same time, praying that the Duke would do or say something that might ease her trouble. All he had to do was introduce her to another gentleman or lady to set her at ease but as yet, all the interest he had shown her was in the glass of whiskey in his hand.

“Do you think it a fine painting?”

A gentle voice behind her made Elizabeth turn quickly, a young lady coming to stand beside her.

“I only ask because you look quite as terrified as I feel and I must hope that this painting is bringing you some comfort!” the young lady continued, smiling at Elizabeth, though there was a slight tremble there. “I know we have not been introduced and it is not the done thing to speak so boldly but I must pray that you will not be overly concerned with such things.”

Relief swam through Elizabeth’s tumultuous emotions, calming them. “Not in the least,” she breathed, turning to face the young lady. “I am Miss Elizabeth Jeffries and I should be very glad to make your acquaintance.”

The young lady’s hazel eyes warmed, a breath of relief escaping her. “Lady Annette. My brother is the Earl of Westridge, though he appears to have forgotten that I am in need of his company this evening to introduce me to others!”

Elizabeth smiled in understanding. “My brother is Viscount Dennington, though he is absent this evening. He is recovering from a lingering malady so often finds himself fatigued, though he has been improving of late.”

Lady Annette’s eyebrows lifted. “Then who are you here with this evening?”

Glancing behind her, Elizabeth gestured briefly to the Duke of Nottingham. “The Duke of Nottingham is my chaperone this evening, for he is very close friends with my brother and has promised to take on charge of me. Though,” she continued, choosing to be as open with Lady Annette as she herself had been, “I think that His Grace and your brother might have a good deal in common when it comes to realising just how much of a responsibility they have towards us!”

Lady Annette laughed at this, her relief palpable. “Then I am glad I was bold enough to come and introduce myself to you,” she said, as Elizabeth smiled back at her. “I have heard of the Duke of Nottingham but I will not question you about him… not yet, at least!” With another laugh, she gestured to the painting. “Now tell me, do you truly delight in this sort of artwork?”

“Not in the least!” Elizabeth exclaimed, making Lady Annette laugh. “I was looking solely for the purpose of appearing busy, given that I have no-one to speak with.”

“Well, now you do.” Lady Annette pointed to the tray of drinks that a footman was holding. “Should you like to take a turn around the room?”

“Yes.” Feeling a good deal more settled and contented, Elizabeth walked alongside Lady Annette as they went to fetch a drink and then, without so much as a backwards glance towards the Duke, began to walk around the room with her new friend.