Beyond the Duke's Domain: Ducal Encounters Series 4 Book 4 Page 14

  Lucy quelled an indignant huff and sat a little straighter. She would like to see him try.

  He could be excused for not understanding Lucy’s character and how determined she could be when something mattered to her, since they were barely acquainted. He had definitely misjudged his sister if he imagined she would be deterred by his disapproval. She lifted her chin and deliberately turned her head away when she next sensed him looking her way.

  The meal came to an end and Lucy was surprised when, instead of standing and inviting the ladies to leave the room with her, the duchess remained seated, glanced at the duke and he rose to his feet.

  ‘My family and friends,’ he said. ‘It is a very great pleasure to see you all here today for the purpose of offering Lucy the very happiest of namedays. Nineteen is an important age, and we shall ensure that it is celebrated in the very best of style.’ He raised a glass. ‘Join me in a toast, ladies and gentlemen. To Lucy.’

  Lucy felt flustered when twenty-seven chairs were pushed back from the table, everyone apart from Lucy stood, smiling at her as they raised their glasses and drank to her good health.

  ‘Thank you so very much,’ she said, blushing. ‘No one has ever toasted me before. I feel a little overwhelmed.’

  ‘And old, I expect,’ Lady Romsey said in her customary forthright manner, making everyone laugh. ‘I know that when I reached nineteen, I felt as though I was in my dotage. Now it seems positively young.’

  ‘Only you, Anna,’ the duke said, shaking his head. ‘However, since I have your attention, there is another announcement to be made.’ Everyone looked at the duke with curious expressions. ‘Frankie is quite determined to turn my hair completely white by providing me with another child.’

  A momentary pause preceded cries of pleasure and a torrent of congratulations. Lucy noticed Lord Amos send the duke a concerned look, to which he responded with a small shrug.

  ‘Now that we have that out of the way,’ the duchess said, standing. ‘Shall we leave the gentlemen to their port, ladies?’

  The duke pulled Lucy’s chair back for her. She thanked him and followed the rest of the ladies from the room, sweeping past Mr Sanchez-Gomez’s position without so much as a glance in his direction.

  Chapter Ten

  Raph felt frustrated. Adler had told him that the two men who’d reported in that afternoon were experts in gathering local intelligence, and yet they had discovered nothing specific about Cutler’s activities. Adler and the duke hadn’t seemed especially perturbed by their lack of success. Adler, it seemed, had someone on the inside in Basingstoke’s household. It was simply a matter of getting a message to him and hearing what he had to say for himself.

  Accustomed to the cut and thrust of covert work, Raph understood the value of patience as a general rule, but this was personal and that made the world of difference. The men seemed to think that Beauworth Hall might hide a few secrets, but the duke didn’t appear convinced. Its owner, a man by the name of Fisher, was elderly and spent the majority of his time abroad where the warmer climate was more beneficial for his health. Beauworth Hall was, apparently, in a bad state of repair. No one seemed to know if Fisher had any relatives, and there was just one man left to look after the place.

  It still seemed highly suspicious to Raph, but there had been no time to decide what to do about the situation, since the men had arrived late and Raph sensed that the duke didn’t want them to know the precise reason for his concerns. Raph was in total agreement in that regard—the fewer people who knew about their suspicions the better. A secret shared was no longer a secret. Also, his sister’s reputation was in the balance. The duke had promised that they would speak in the morning and decide how best to proceed.

  Raph now sat at the duchess’s table, feeling perfectly at home in such august company, and yet also detached from it. He and Ariana had been skirting around the subject of their future. Raph’s intention was to re-establish himself as a man of social status and financial means in the land of his birth. Before arriving in England, it hadn’t once occurred to him that Ariana wouldn’t feel similarly minded. Martina’s future was secure and there was nothing left here for Ariana.

  Or was there?

  He had been at Winchester Park for less than three days, but he could already see just how settled Ariana felt. She had found a purpose with Lord Amos’s children—something to distract her from her turbulent past. He thought of all she had endured in Spain when he had blithely left both of his sisters more or less to their own devices, and he wouldn’t be surprised if she never wanted to return home.

  First things first, he decided. Stay for Martina’s wedding, deal with Cutler and spike Basingstoke’s guns if he proved to be involved. He would avenge his sisters and repay the duke in some small measure for assuming the duties of care that Raph had neglected in such a cavalier fashion.

  He glanced down the table more frequently than was wise, thinking that Lucy Boyd looked sophisticated and charmingly reticent at finding herself the centre of attention. He had intended to approach her before dinner, but Cartwright and Pilkington had monopolised her company and the opportunity hadn’t presented itself.

  Lucy seemed happy enough to receive their compliments, and barely glanced in Raph’s direction. Even so, the sixth sense that had kept him safe in perilous conditions warned him that the intensely private conversation she had engaged in with Cartwright had little to do with the man’s obvious need to impress her. He had strolled closer, but Lucy was so intent upon whatever Cartwright was saying to her that she didn’t notice his presence.

  What the devil was she playing at?

  He sat at the table now with the other gentlemen, smarting a little at Lucy’s apparent lack of interest in him, yet telling himself it was just as well. He had spent his years as a spy avoiding romantic interludes—at least with ladies of quality—because he couldn’t afford the distraction. If he felt the inclination for a harmless tumble now, to take the edge off his frustration, he suspected that the barmaid at the Crown would be happy to oblige.

  Tiring of conversation about sport, which seemed trivial to Raph, and preferring not to become embroiled when it turned to the subject of politics, he stood up and strolled to the end of the room. Several others had circulated, conversing with friends and acquaintances as they did so before returning to their places, so it didn’t seem impolite. He was not however aware until he got there that the duke and Lord Amos were in close conversation in an alcove.

  Raph moved to the window and examined a display of doubtless valuable porcelain on a sideboard beneath it, giving them privacy, but Lord Amos’s words still reached Raph’s ears. The habits of a spy ran deep. Eavesdropping was far from gentlemanly, but was an excellent source of intelligence. Raph stayed where he was and picked up the conversation mid-sentence.

  ‘…Frankie’s condition?’ Lord Amos said in a concerned tone. ‘I thought she could not…’

  ‘So did I.’ The duke let out an exasperated sigh. ‘It seems the doctor told her it was unlikely she would conceive again, but not impossible.’

  ‘I’m sorry, Zach. I know thoughts of the risks will plague you until her time comes, making you feel wretched. The need to put on a brave face will take its toll.’

  ‘I’m not concerned for myself.’

  Raph glanced over his shoulder and observed Lord Amos slap his brother’s shoulder. They were engrossed with their conversation and hadn’t noticed him. The duchess’s condition was an intensely personal subject and Raph ought to move out of earshot—and he would. In just a moment. He could not have said why the urge to linger overrode good manners but he went with his instincts and remained rooted to the spot.

  ‘I know that all too well,’ Lord Amos said, throwing back his head and closing his eyes. ‘I wish there was something I could say or do.’

  ‘It’s at times like this that a man realises just how much power the love of a good woman wields over him,’ the duke replied. ‘We think we are the stronger sex, t
he protectors, but the ladies can bring us to our knees, especially when it comes to procreation. We are helpless to bear the pain and risk in their stead, which is emasculating.’ The duke paused. ‘But I hardly need to remind you of that fact.’

  ‘I mourn Crista’s loss every single day, if that’s what you mean to imply, but the pain does get easier.’

  ‘You never talk about it, Amos, and I…we all of us are too mindful of your feelings to raise the subject.’

  ‘It’s better that way. The only person I ever talk to about it is Ariana. She puts me in my place and doesn’t allow me to wallow in self-pity,’ he said, chuckling. ‘She never met Crista either, so she has no personal involvement. She reminds me when I feel sorry for myself that my children should be my first concern. And rightly so.’

  ‘Well then, I’m glad you have someone to keep you honest.’ The duke paused. ‘Will she return to Spain with her brother, do you suppose?’

  Raph held his breath, hoping that an insight into his sister’s mindset would vindicate his eavesdropping. Lord Amos undoubtedly knew more on that subject than Raph himself did. Spanish daughters customarily deferred to the wisdom of the male members of their families who were responsible for their care, but Raph had sacrificed any right to expect her duty when he had let her down in the worst possible manner.

  Unfortunately, Lord Amos seemed to be as much in the dark as Raph himself when it came to his sister’s intentions, so he wandered back to the table before questions were asked about his prolonged absence from it. He accepted the decanter, topped off his glass and passed it on, deep in thought about Ariana’s circumstances. He knew that she was affectionately inclined towards Lord Amos’s children and the link to them might well keep her here in England out of a sense of obligation. Ought he to ask Lord Amos what his intentions were, given what he had just overheard? Clearly, he was sensitive about the subject of his dead wife. So much so that even the duke hesitated to discuss it with him.

  But it seemed that Ariana was not held back by any such qualms.

  If Amos recovered and decided to remarry, where would that leave Ariana and her affection for his children—always supposing she was not his choice? She occupied a position in this household that was somewhere between a governess and a valued guest, but he couldn’t imagine the new Lady Amos tolerating competition for her husband’s affections, so Ariana would be left high and dry in a foreign country.

  Raph would need to make that clear when he attempted to lure her back to Spain.

  Somehow.

  He returned to the drawing room along with everyone else. The duchess had engaged musicians and there was to be dancing. Raph couldn’t recall the last occasion upon which he had danced. It had always seemed such a trivial thing, given the enormous responsibility of state security beneath which he had laboured for so long. He watched Lucy Boyd, her face alight with laughter as she danced an energetic jig with Cartwright, and his competitive instincts rose to the fore. She had yet to smile at him with such intensity and Raph decided he would make it his mission to ensure that she did. It would give him something to do, and would divert his mind from other, more pressing, problems.

  Or so he chose to tell himself.

  Lady Romsey grasped his hand and pulled him into the dance before he’d had an opportunity to realise her intention.

  ‘I regret that I am no dancer, ma’am,’ he said.

  ‘I declare that you are as serious as my husband,’ she said breathlessly, clearly having no intention of allowing him to escape, ‘and it is beyond time that someone showed you there is more to life than being a slave to duty.’

  ‘If I didn’t seem to be enjoying myself then my manners must be at fault. The duchess’s parties are clearly never dull affairs.’

  ‘Graciously put, Mr Sanchez-Gomez,’ she said, laughing at him as he swung her in a circle. ‘But I am not so easily deceived. My husband has no doubt placed impossible demands upon you, and you are unable to decide whether to comply with his wishes as a way of thanking my family for taking care of your sisters. What you would really like to do is to tell him to go to the devil, I suspect, in which case, please feel free. Be assured that your reaction will not affect Ariana’s position here. She is far too valuable to Amos’s children.’

  ‘You are very perceptive, Lady Romsey.’

  ‘My advice is to plough your own furrow, but I am sure that you don’t need me to tell you that. Not that it will make any difference.’ She flashed an engaging smile. ‘I shall probably tell you anyway. I can’t seem to help interfering in other people’s affairs. Clarence has quite given up trying to make me behave with more discretion. And if he managed it I would no longer be myself, or so I try to tell him. I swear he doesn’t listen to one word in ten that I say to him. His mind is always full of loftier concerns.’

  ‘I cannot imagine anyone ignoring you,’ Raph said, as the dance came to an end and Raph conducted her back to the side of the room.

  He was claimed by Martina for the next dance, which to his relief was slightly less energetic. He noticed Lucy Boyd dancing with Jon Sheridan, the duke’s eldest cousin. She seemed comfortable with him and was laughing at something he said to her. At least Jon was a married man with no interest in Lucy’s fortune, and Raph didn’t need to worry about her for a while.

  Why he felt so fiercely possessive he could not have said. Lucy had plenty of people to protect her interests, and Raph had more than enough problems of his own to wrestle with without assuming responsibility for hers as well. Not that she had anything to worry her, he reasoned. She lived in comfort and any complaints she might have were merely the product of a young woman’s imagination. Females were, he knew, given to flights of fancy.

  ‘It gives me great pleasure to see the way that you have adapted to English society, and how happy you are with your Mr Braden,’ Raph said, smiling at Martina’s glowing countenance. ‘I wish I could take some credit for that.’

  ‘Oh, you can! Nothing that happened to us was your fault.’

  ‘And now you can look forward to living the life of an English lady.’ Raph paused. ‘What do you suppose your sister will do?’

  Martina’s smile faded. ‘She never talks about her own aspirations,’ she said, glancing across the room towards Lord Amos, who was in conversation with one of his cousins. ‘She always manages to turn the conversation back to other subjects whenever I ask her. And really, she has done so much for me that she is entitled to her privacy now that we are safe. I think she talks more to Lucy Boyd. They have become quite close.’

  Does she indeed? That innocuous comment caused stirrings of concern. ‘Ariana won’t lack for suitors, I am sure,’ Raph said, ‘if her thoughts are turning in that direction.’

  ‘Ah, but she will. Marriages are contracts based on financial security. Did you not notice the longing looks that Mr Pilkington sent her way all evening?’

  ‘I confess that I did not.’

  ‘He paid her a lot of attention when he last called here. He seemed very smitten, in fact, which is easy to understand, given that our sister is so very lovely. I have heard her likened to an exotic hothouse flower, which I think is quite poetic. Anyway, I believe Mr Pilkington assumed she must be a Spanish heiress, which would account for her sitting at the duchess’s table. When he discovered the truth—and I think Ariana herself was the one to enlighten him—his attentions quickly waned.’

  ‘Ah,’ Raph nodded. ‘Then he is not worth knowing. Presumably his friend Cartwright is in the same situation.’

  Martina lifted one shoulder. ‘I would think so.’

  That, Raph thought, accounted for his determination to impress Lucy, who had told him herself that she possessed a fortune. Why she had encouraged Cartwright was less certain. Perhaps she simply liked him and found his company desirable. Raph disliked the jolt of jealousy that tore through him at that possibility. He attempted to analyse the situation rationally, thinking about the snippets of their conversation that he had overheard, and decided th
ere had to be more to it than that. She was up to something—probably with Ariana’s prior knowledge and collaboration.

  ‘Why are you scowling?’ Martina asked, gazing up at him with concern.

  ‘Am I? Sorry. It’s a long time since I graced a dance floor and I have forgotten how to behave.’

  ‘Nonsense. You are my dashing big brother who never puts a foot wrong in any situation.’

  Raph laughed. ‘If only that were true.’

  ‘Anyway, speaking of marriage, don’t be too hard on the Cartwrights of this world. Marriage is more a business arrangement than a love match in most instances. After all, a gentleman must have something to live on, and if a lady sees a possibility to enhance her own position by taking her fortune into an advantageous marriage, no one will hold that against her. I was fortunate enough to meet a man who fell in love with me and isn’t required to marry for money. But that is a rarity.’

  Raph chuckled. ‘When did you become so very wise?’

  ‘We all have to grow up, Raph.’

  The maturity behind Martina’s words caught Raph unawares. He still looked upon her as a child, and it was easy to forget how many years had elapsed since he had last spent a significant amount of time with any of his family members. Martina had still been in pigtails on that occasion, and had hero-worshipped him. Now she was on the verge of matrimony. It barely seemed credible.

  ‘Thank you for the reminder,’ he said.

  The dance came to an end and the musicians struck up a waltz. It was a dance that showed men in their true colours, Raph often thought. The duke had taken to the floor with his duchess in his arms, and several of his relatives were partnering their spouses. Significantly, Lord Amos was dancing for the first time—with Ariana.