Page 5 of The Guardian Duke (Wayward Dukes’ Alliance #21)
She had taunted and insulted him, so why the blazes had he agreed to waltz with Lady Penelope, especially since she had been the one to ask him and not as it should be?
“Thank you, Your Grace,” she murmured as she dipped into a curtsey.
“You are welcome, I think.” He placed his hand at her back then took her handin his.
This was a mistake but it was too late to back out now.
Henry made it a point never to dance, especially a waltz, no matter who the lady or miss happened to be. Well, other than Lady Johanna, but that was to assist a friend. The reason was because he was an eligible duke of only thirty. And, as he anticipated, as soon as he stepped to the floor, all eyes turned to him and Lady Penelope. No doubt the matrons were twittering behind fans and wondering if he was finally going to seek a wife. He detested anyone speculating about him. It had been bad enough when he had only been an heir, but this Season, the attention on him had increased tenfold.
Henry looked down into Lady Penelope’s green eyes and they stepped. She anticipated every movement, her hand relaxed just behind his shoulder the other he gently clutched in his hand. However, that was not what he noticed most, but the sway of her body—which responded to the barest touch, moving beneath his hand—soft, as a woman should be. Her height, which he had noticed when they had first become acquainted, was perfect for kissing. He would not need to bend too far and develop a crick in his neck or she could simply go up on her toes for their lips to meet.
Kissing Lady Penelope had not been something he had considered often, but with the way she moved with him as one, their steps matched and how he did not have to adjust his to match hers, had him thinking beyond a simple kiss. They were perfectly matched.
“I have changed my mind,” she announced.
“You do not wish to dance?” he asked in surprise. “Will it not invite gossip if you abandon me on the dance floor?”
Her green eyes brightened with her chuckle. “I have changed my mind about a dancing master.”
“You assume that since I can indeed waltz that my cousins must also be able to do so?” Certainly, Lady Penelope could not have reached such a foolish conclusion.
“No,” she responded. “You do not need to hire one because you will be their instructor.”
Henry nearly stumbled at her words. “I will not.”
“Ah, but you will since I do not know how long it will take to find and engage one and since you already live within the same household, and are competent enough, I do not see why you cannot serve as their instructor.”
“Competent enough!” he nearly choked at the insult before he swept her in a turn demonstrating his power not only to maneuver her from one end of the dancefloor to the other, but also successfully avoid each couple that might be in their way, manipulating her movements much like a puppeteer with strings.
Competent! Ha! He was an excellent dancer.
“My point has been proven,” she announced with a triumphant grin when the dance came to an end. “You will attend us at ten in the morning the day after tomorrow.” Then, without another word, Lady Penelope turned and marched away from him and exited the ball.
Bloody hell!
She had managed him and he must not allow her to do so again or he would have no peace.
* * *
Her head was pounding by the time Lady Penelope returned the sisters to Eldridge’s home following their shopping.
They had been gone for hours and first visited the modiste where their measurements were taken and fabric chosen, then orders placed after reviewing the dress plates. However, when the sisters nearly begged Penelope to take them to Harding Howell & Company because they had expressed an interest in purchasing fabric directly so that they could sew their own clothing to save funds, she had refused.
They then visited a milliner, a shoe manufacturer, a hosier. They had also needed ribbons, undergarments, reticules, shawls, parasols…everything imaginable that a miss, embarking on a proper Season, required. Penelope was fairly certain that they had visited every shop on Bond Street, Oxford Street and in the Burlington Arcade. The girls were giddy with the assortment of options and took turns asking and offering advice as to what would look best, or a favored color. However, each time Penelope arranged for a purchase, one of the sisters would argue that it was not necessary when they learned the cost, then worry that His Grace would be angry. Every time this happened, Penelope would remind them that none of them had spent even five hundred pounds of what they’d been allowed, and they had been allotted seven hundred pounds—each!
They were delightful sisters and Penelope had enjoyed herself. That is, when they weren’t fearful of spending too much.
Oh, but it was all worth it when their eyes lit to see a fabric placed near their face that was clearly more complementary than what they had been wearing, and how they looked forward to not only gowns that they would soon wear, but even the adornments. Though, she really did try to discourage bows, except for Jael and Chloe as they were still rather young at eighteen and twenty. Those were the two who also were only given choices of the palest of pastels whereas she needed to encourage Judith, who was six and twenty, to agree to darker and brighter colors. Nothing so bold as what a married woman or widow would wear, but her age allowed a larger variety of colors and prints.
It had also been Penelope’s intention to return home immediately and take to her bed in a dark and quiet room so that she was recovered for the evening but when the carriage stopped before the ducal mansion, the sisters became worried and quiet.
No doubt they were reconsidering—again—their purchases and the cost to His Grace—and now regretted each item.
While the packages were many, they had spent wisely. They had also been so successful in their shopping that a footman who had accompanied them when they first set out had needed to hire a hackney to load their purchases in and return back to the mansion because there was no room in the carriage they had used because six of them were already taking up the space.
“Please say that you will join us for tea,” Damaris begged.
She was tired, but Penelope would accompany them this one time to stand between them and their guardian if he decided to take issue with the purchases. Not that she expected Eldridge to voice any objections, but given the stories she’d heard about the former vicar and the things that man had said to his daughters, she well understood their concern, and likely fear. In time, they would realize that Eldridge was cut from a different cloth.
Just how long that would take, she was not certain.
As the sisters approached the door, it was immediately opened by the butler and each sulked in as if they’d just returned from a funeral or had been caught misbehaving and were awaiting punishment.
They then lined up by age when Eldridge emerged from the back of the house and footmen filed in with boxes and packages, occasionally stopping to inquire as to which room an item should be delivered. The sisters did not answer but looked at Penelope. Thankfully she recalled what belonged to whom and gave proper instruction.
“It was a successful outing?” Eldridge asked as the last of the footmen passed and climbed the stairs.
“Very much so, Your Grace,” Penelope answered.
“Might I enquire as to the damage to my pocketbook?”
She knew that he simply wanted an accounting and such phrasing was not meant to be a chastisement. She’d often heard the same term from her brother without any true displeasure behind his words, but the sisters were sensitive, not understanding, and hung their heads in shame.
“I have it right here.” Penelope pulled the small book from her reticule. She had written each purchase, broken down for each of the sisters. She then handed it to Eldridge. He thumbed through the pages as he took his time reading the items and calculations. Once finished, he nodded in approval and returned it to her.
“I anticipated that more would have been spent.”
With those words, the sisters slowly looked up, though there was still concern in their features.
“Your cousins are very frugal, Your Grace,” Penelope answered and looked him in the eye so that he would understand the message she was trying to convey. “They still feared spending your funds.” It was important that he know, and if Eldridge was paying any attention, he had to realize how anxious they were, and Penelope prayed he said the right thing and did not send them to their chambers in tears.
“If I had any objection to the amount you requested, Lady Penelope, I would never have agreed to make it available.”
Without even looking at the sisters, Penelope could feel them relax as some of the tension dissipated.
“Can I expect more expenditures?”
“Yes, but those can be discussed at a later time,” she answered. “However, I do not anticipate it will be much.”
“Very good!” he answered. “Though, you have seven hundred pounds, each, and if it is necessary to spend the entire amount to make a proper appearance for the remainder of the Season, you may do so without objection from me.” The last was directed to his cousins.
Thank goodness Eldridge had read the situation correctly and the sisters would no longer balk at what else she had planned.
For not having been attentive previously, it appeared that Eldridge was paying attention now and she admired how he put them at ease with no hint at criticism.
He may have been unprepared when they first arrived on his doorstep but she respected Eldrige for having recognized his error and being generous in return.
The only question that remained—would His Grace go along with everything else she had decided upon? After her discussions with the Simpson sisters today, it became clear that they needed more than a wardrobe and a dancing master.