Page 3 of The Lady Who Said No to the Duke

‘Y ou refused to marry a duke?’ Hal asked when he could speak again. ‘Er…which one?’ He had to ask.

‘The Duke of Leamington,’ Lady Thea said. ‘I believe that at present he is the only one of marriageable age who is unattached, under the age of sixty and in his right mind.’

‘Thea, dear,’ her godmother chided.

‘Well, to my certain knowledge, the Duke of Farringdon shares his dinner table with a goat and keeps a troupe of monkeys in his drawing room,’ she said unrepentantly.

‘Perhaps influenced by the Princess of Wales,’ Hal said, fascinated as much by her plain speaking as his mental picture of Farringdon’s home life.

‘My point exactly—you cannot say that is normal behaviour, given that it is regarded as bizarre even in the wife of the heir to the throne. And the Duke of Perivale attacked his valet with a chamber…that is, an article of bedroom porcelain, and the Duke of Hampton has just divorced his wife, and from what one hears of her side of the story one can only assume—’

‘Quite,’ their godmother interrupted hastily. ‘As you say, Leamington is really the only eligible duke available at present.’

‘Available,’ Hal echoed faintly, and reached for another cake.

‘Well, it is a marriage mart, after all,’ Lady Thea said, helping herself to a piece of shortbread. ‘And if one is in the market for a duke, one must admit that the merchandise on the shelves is somewhat lacking in variety. More tea, Mr Forrest?’

‘Thank you, yes.’ He passed over his cup with, he was relieved to see, a steady hand. ‘But apparently you are not in the market for such a husband, Lady Thea,’

‘I have no objection to a husband as such, sir, it is simply that I do not like that one and I greatly objected to being informed that my fate has been decided since birth. It was a considerable shock, believe me.’ She took a ladylike bite from the shortbread biscuit.

‘Might I ask what is so objectionable about Leamington?’ he asked. ‘I do not believe I have heard any stories about goats, or misused wives. Or items of chinaware, come to that.’

‘I met him once.’ Lady Thea demolished the crumbly slice with a snap of her teeth. ‘He was arrogant, loud, rude and his feet and ears were too big.’

‘Thea, dear,’ Godmama said with a faint moan. ‘How old was he at the time?’

Lady Thea wrinkled her nose as she thought and Hal decided that made her look just a little like a squirrel, with her dark red hair.

A very refined squirrel though: tall, willowy, with high cheekbones, a shapely but mobile mouth and expressive hazel eyes.

Her height and her colouring should have made her unfashionable—petite, curvaceous blondes were all the rage—but she had style and presence.

‘Fourteen? Sixteen?’ she hazarded. ‘I was ten or eleven.’

‘ All boys are revolting at that age,’ Lady Holme said with authority.

‘I have five godsons and they all went through a phase of being noisy young hooligans needing to grow into their bodies. Mostly they managed to develop into quite civilised gentlemen.’ She sent Hal a sweet smile. ‘You did, didn’t you, Hal dear?’

‘I do hope so, Godmama,’ he said. ‘The Duke may be perfectly acceptable by now, you know, Lady Thea. I gather that you have not met him recently.’

‘I have not. Having apparently dealt with the troublesome business of finding a wife at an early age—something I had always believed was a family joke until I was disabused of the notion by my parents four days ago—he then completely ignored me.

Other than that one meeting, during which he comprehensively insulted me, I have never set eyes on him again.

‘I understand that he has been amusing himself at the Congress, where I imagine Lord Castlereagh found his assistance invaluable,’ she ended sarcastically.

‘The swine,’ Hal said and received in return a dazzling smile that seemed to hit somewhere at the base of his spine. He crossed his legs and enquired, ‘Might one ask how he insulted you, Lady Thea?’

The smile vanished. ‘He called me…a name. A nickname. I am sure he found it wildly amusing. I did not.’

‘I can only apologise on behalf of all of us who have been crass young males at some stage in our lives,’ Hal said, with what he was surprised to discover was genuine feeling.

‘Thank you, Mr Forrest.’ That dangerous smile was back.

‘And what do you intend to do now, Thea?’ their godmother asked. ‘Presumably your cousin is expecting you and will inform your parents immediately when your carriage arrives without you.’

‘I must consider my options,’ Lady Thea said. ‘I will write to Cousin Elizabeth and apologise for any inconvenience, of course, and I suppose I must write to my parents and tell them where I am. I have no desire to place you in a difficult position, dear Godmama.’

‘Just how did you make your escape if your own carriage has continued on to Harrogate, might I ask?’

Lady Thea turned back to answer Hal with what was perilously close to a grin. ‘When we arrived in Grantham I pretended to be unwell and took rooms at the Angel for myself and Mama’s dresser who was accompanying me, telling her I needed to spend the day resting.

‘Then, as soon as I heard her settled in next door, I left the money for the rooms on the dressing table, went down with my valise and across the road to the George where I hired a post chaise, telling them that I wished to go to Melton Mowbray. Then I bribed the postilion to turn around once we were out of the town and go in the opposite direction to come here.’

‘He can probably be as easily bribed to say where he did take you,’ Hal said cynically.

‘Oh, I am sure he can be, but I only wanted to make sure I was not immediately followed. Maunday is not a woman of much initiative and I am sure she will have either gone on to Harrogate or back to London to seek instructions. In any case, I must let Mama and Papa know where I am. I do not wish to cause them any distress. Any more distress,’ she amended carefully.

‘Considerate of you,’ Hal said drily and received a reproachful look in return. He found he did not want to make those lovely hazel eyes become shadowed and sad again.

‘I do try to be,’ Lady Thea retorted. ‘But this is my future, my entire life, at stake. I fail to see why I must passively accept whatever fate is decreed for me—this is the nineteenth century, Mr Forrest, not the Middle Ages. Why should I be unhappy for ever, just for the sake of a title?’

He opened his mouth to say something—he was not certain what—and she swept on. ‘How would you like it?’

‘Men have their choices restricted too,’ Hal countered with some feeling.

‘The son of the village blacksmith will find himself under considerable pressure to take on his father’s trade, likewise the son of a farmer, a banker or a lawyer.

The heir to a title has no option but to accept the duties that go with that, and those include finding a bride of equal or near status.

He cannot shrug and say he does not want those responsibilities or that he would rather marry a pretty dairymaid. ’

Lady Thea produced a sound suspiciously close to a snort.

‘Do not tell me that the son of the blacksmith or the lawyer would accept being forced into a marriage with a woman he did not like. And as for your aristocratic heir, he will pick and choose from the flock of sacrificial virgins paraded for him at Almack’s. ’

‘Thea, dear ,’ Lady Holme murmured. Hal suspected that she would be saying that a great deal in the near future.

‘I am sorry, Godmama. The gathering of well-bred young ladies of unimpeachable virtue pretending to enjoy the delights of the Season, I should have said,’ Lady Thea corrected amiably.

‘You find the Season unpleasant?’ Hal queried. He had managed to avoid the London Season by going to Vienna, where he suspected the social environment was considerably freer and more enjoyable.

Again, there was that charming wrinkle of the nose.

‘New gowns and all the balls and parties can be delightful, of course. But one cannot pick and choose, decide that tonight it is really far too much trouble to dress up and have one’s hair twisted into uncomfortable arrangements and be dancing and smiling and watching every word and gesture until the small hours.

‘There are times when all one wants is to curl up with a good book, or ride shockingly fast in Hyde Park, and not have pins stuck into one by top-lofty modistes or spend the afternoon making careful conversation with young gentlemen who do not interest one in the slightest.

‘And,’ she added bitterly, ‘one is being scrutinised the entire time for the slightest slip. Too long behind the potted palms at Lady X’s ball with Lord Y?

Shocking. Galloping one’s horse in Hyde Park?

Outrageously fast. An evening gown that is not of the palest shade?

Clearly one is on the slippery slope to ruin. ’

‘But we gentlemen are stalked by predatory mamas on the hunt for suitable husbands for their daughters,’ he countered.

‘We must be constantly on guard in case we find ourselves alone in the conservatory, or out on the terrace, with a young lady. We must learn the exceedingly delicate art of flirtation—just enough to bring a flattering glow to a young lady’s cheeks, but never anything that might be misconstrued as a declaration. ’

‘Or you can practice the art on dashing young widows and fast young matrons with less restraint,’ Lady Thea said, with a teasing smile.

Now, she really would be amusing to flirt with. He must have betrayed that thought somehow, because she coloured, just a little, then batted her eyelashes at him, clearly intending to mock. It would take a great deal to subdue Thea Campion’s spirit. But why would anyone with any sense want to?

The door opened to admit the Lady Holme’s housekeeper. ‘Lady Thea’s room is quite ready, my lady,’ she said, bobbing a curtsey. ‘I have sent Jennie up.’