Of Dukes and Deceptions Page 3

  “Well, I doubt whether His Grace will bother to enlighten him, and I certainly don’t intend to do so.”

  “You’re very likely wrong. The aristocracy don’t care to be spoken down to. I expect His Grace will wish to have an example made of you.”

  Alicia pulled a face. “He deserved to be put in his place.”

  “But he helped you rescue the rabbit for all that. I trust you thanked him.”

  “Oh, heavens!” Alicia covered her mouth to prevent herself from laughing outright and having to endure another of Janet’s lectures. “I knew there was something I meant to do.”

  “Ye gods!” Janet shook her head but Alicia got the impression she was having difficulty keeping her disapproving expression in place.

  They reached Alicia’s chamber and Janet became too preoccupied with her duties to spare further time for scoldings.

  “What’s he like?” she asked instead. “Is he high in the instep? Well,” she continued, not pausing long enough for Alicia answer, “I suppose that’s only to be expected.”

  “He’s quite the most arrogant individual it’s ever been my misfortune to encounter.”

  “Aye, I’ve no doubt he struck you that way if he didn’t share your concern for some scrap of a rabbit. But is he handsome, my love? Your cousin will be devastated if he’s merely mortal.”

  Alicia considered her response, even though she didn’t need to. She thought she’d been too angry with him to pay much attention to his person. But it took no time at all to summon up an image of the imposing individual who’d strutted in front of her in a quite insufferable manner, doing his best to bully her into submission.

  “Well, he’s taller than average. A full head taller than me, in fact.”

  Janet, engaged in pouring hot water into a ewer, chuckled so heartily that she slopped some over the edge of the basin.

  “What’s so diverting, Janet?” Alicia stepped out of her soiled gown and draped it across the back of a chair. “Why should His Grace’s height be a cause for such mirth? It’s a pleasant change to be obliged to look up to a gentleman, even one as haughty as the duke.”

  “Oh, I dare say it is, and it ain’t that what I find amusing. It’s more the thought of your cousin trying to win him round. She’ll need to stand on a box simply to converse with him. And even if she did manage to engage his attention, how would they…” Janet flushed and returned her attention to her duties. “Well, never mind about that. I dare say they’d manage.”

  “Maria is not so very slight.”

  “Of course she is, love. She’s barely five foot, even with the advantage of high shoes to aid her cause.” Tears of mirth were pouring down Janet’s lined face. “For all that she’s pretty and delicate, I should imagine a hulking great figure like you describe His Grace as being will scare her half out of her wits. You know what a flibbertigibbet she is.”

  Alicia, out of a sense of duty to her cousin, attempted to look severely upon Janet but spoiled the effect by giggling. “Do you want to know more about the duke, or not?” she asked between splutters.

  “Bless you, of course I do, lamb.” Janet helped Alicia to wash the grime from her limbs whilst simultaneously brushing her hair vigorously into submission. “Tell me everything about him that you can remember.”

  “Well, he has broad shoulders and is very strong. He pulled the trap away from the poor rabbit’s leg as though it was nothing more than a piece of string. It was quite stuck and I wouldn’t have been able to manage it nearly so well without hurting the creature even more.”

  “He can’t be all bad then. If he’s as high-handed as you suggest, he would simply have wrung the rabbit’s neck, regardless of your protestations.”

  “Humph, I should like to have seen him try!”

  “Anyway, never mind that. He helped you, and it was very good of him.” Janet tugged at a particularly stubborn tangle in Alicia’s hair.

  “Ouch!”

  “Sorry, pet. Now sit still and tell me some more about him.”

  “Well, he has light brown hair, brown eyes and a disgusting sense of self-importance. He was really quite cross with me, you know, just because I didn’t get all flummoxed when he deigned to notice me.”

  “Seeing as how that old cob of yours almost caused him to break his neck, I don’t see as how you can hold that against him.”

  “Matilda didn’t do it on purpose. Besides, he shouldn’t have been travelling so fast on such a narrow road. He can’t hold me to blame for his own irresponsibility.”

  “Well, let’s hope that’s something else your uncle don’t get to hear about.” Alicia pulled a face. “What else did he say to you?”

  “Nothing of consequence.” Alicia frowned. “But he did seem to think he was here solely to look at the horses.”

  “Word hadn’t reached him of your cousin’s beauty, then?”

  “Evidently not.”

  Janet chuckled again as she twisted Alicia’s hair into a knot at the back of her head and jabbed at it with pins.

  “Ow!”

  “Keep still, pet, and let me do my work. Tell me more about His Grace. It’ll distract you and, God willing, it might even persuade you to sit still.”

  “There isn’t much more to tell. He is good looking, I suppose, if you look beyond all that aristocratic pomposity. No, no, I take that back. I can’t persuade myself that he’s actually pompous. It’s just that he’s used to being deferred to, I suppose, and doesn’t realise he’s being condescending. But he didn’t seem to mind clambering about on the riverbank and wasn’t afraid to get his boots dirty.” She lifted her shoulders, which earned her a sharp reprimand. “Sorry! Still, I suppose it doesn’t matter to him if he dirties his boots. He’s not the one who has to clean them. That task would fall to his man.”

  Janet sniffed her disapproval. “Don’t talk to me about that devil. He’s been in the kitchen this last hour, drinking tea, eating scones and being charming to everyone. He was actually flirting with Cook, if you please.”

  Alicia laughed. “And why should that overset you, Janet? Would you have him flirt with you instead?”

  “Certainly not!” Janet bristled with indignation. “I don’t hold no truck with that sort of behaviour.”

  “Then why have you taken him in such dislike?”

  “Because of all the impertinent questions he was asking. I found his manner quite objectionable.”

  “What sort of questions?” Alicia stood and admired Janet’s handiwork in the pier glass. She’d managed to tame her rebellious locks into a style that was quite flattering.

  “Oh, all about the family. Who was who and where everyone fit into the scheme of things.”

  “That’s natural enough, surely?” Alicia wondered why she felt the need to defend the odious duke’s man. “I don’t suppose His Grace had ever heard of us before my uncle invited him here. It’s only to be expected that he should want to know whom he’s dealing with, and what better way to find out than by asking the servants.” She grinned. “Servants always know absolutely everything that goes on.”

  “I suppose you’re right but even so I—”

  “Oh, no! Must I, Janet?”

  “Aye, that you must.” Janet forced Alicia to stand still as she laced her into a pretty corset edged with love-knots in emerald silk. “Your uncle won’t let you into the drawing room if you’re not properly dressed. He might overlook your rebellious ways when you don’t have company but he won’t put up with them when he has such an important guest. Besides, you wouldn’t wish to embarrass him and give the duke cause to look down on you more than you think he already does, would you now?”

  “I suppose not. But it so vexes me that I must wear the wretched garment when I don’t need it. Besides, you always lace it so tight I can scarce breathe.”

  “Don’t exaggerate, lamb.” Janet’s only concession was to loosen the laces a mere fraction before helping Alicia step into her petticoats. “There now, you look a picture.” She tied the last of
the ribbons on her mistress’s gown. “Quite the equal to either of your cousins, just as I promised you’d be.”

  “Don’t be so silly.” Alicia turned to look at herself in the glass again, startled by the image that stared back. She seldom took this much trouble over her appearance and was surprised at the difference Janet’s ministrations had wrought in so short a time. Surprised, but not especially interested. She left that sort of thing to Maria and Elsbeth. “Still, I dare say that for once my uncle won’t be able to find fault with me. Thank you, Janet.” She kissed her maid’s wrinkled cheek and slipped her feet into her evening slippers. “Right, hand me my fan and I suppose I’d better enter the fray.”

  “What have you found out about the setup here?” Nick slid his arms into the sleeves of the coat Gibson was holding out for him.

  “About the entire household or one particular member of it?”

  Nick scowled. “About why I’m here at all.”

  “Oh, right, that.” Gibson smirked. “Well, it seems there’s more to yer Alicia Woodley than meets the eye. She’s the key to the whole place.”

  “Really? How so?” Nick waited for Gibson to brush imaginary specks from the shoulders of his immaculate evening coat. He used the intervening moments to adjust the folds of his snowy white neckcloth, which he’d tied in a perfect Mathematical. “I thought she was the poor relation.”

  “Aye, but she’s lived in this house all her life. Her mother died giving birth to her, and her father never remarried. It was just the two of them until five years ago, when her father contracted a fever and died.”

  “And the uncle inherited.”

  “Yes. There’s a small legacy for Miss Woodley, which becomes hers on her twenty-fifth birthday, six months from now. The rest went to the uncle in its entirety.”

  “Hmm, that must have been difficult for her. To see someone else take over the house that had always been hers, I mean.”

  “The servants all feel for her. Most of them were here when her father was still alive and they say the bond between them was something to behold. She was devastated by his death and quite went to pieces for a while. But she has an old witch of a maid who saw her through the worst of it and protects her like she was her own daughter. Duke or no duke, you’re gonna have yer work cut out if you think you’ll be able to get past her and have yer way with her mistress.” Gibson grinned. “Under the circumstances I’ll release you from our wager, if you like, and we’ll say no more about it.”

  “Thank you, Gibson, but that won’t be necessary.”

  “Hah, you wouldn’t say that if you’d seen the maid.” Gibson shuddered. “I think you’ve met your match this time.”

  “Hmm, perhaps.” Nick, who didn’t believe it for a second, straightened the hem of his blue-and-green silk waistcoat. It was flamboyantly embroidered with peacocks, the only splash of colour to relieve the otherwise severe black of his evening dress. “What do the servants make of the uncle and aunt?”

  “They speak about them in guarded terms. I got the impression that every one of them would die for Alicia Woodley, whereas they merely feel loyalty toward the current master and mistress.”

  “I see. Anything else?”

  “Miss Woodley’s father was the one who started the stud here. Her uncle was a merchant and lived very modestly when his brother was alive. The word is that he knew nothing about horses when he inherited this place.”

  “That would explain Alicia’s interest, I suppose.” Nick recalled the professional manner in which she’d looked over his team.

  “Aye, she helped her father build up the stud. She refused a season in preference to taking an active role in running it and knows the business backwards.”

  “Did she indeed!” Nick had never encountered a female who didn’t live in expectation of balls, fabulous clothes and as much flirting as could be artfully contrived under the gimlet gaze of an attentive chaperone. His interest in Alicia Woodley, up until then merely trifling, gained momentum.

  “The uncle don’t hold with females getting involved apparently and prefers to rely upon his managers for guidance.”

  “How very provincial of him.” But Nick knew Woodley’s attitude was a common one. “It must be upsetting for Alicia to be here on a daily basis and have no input. No wonder she seeks alternative ways to fill her time.”

  Gibson screwed up his eyes and regarded Nick’s appearance critically. “You’ll do.” High praise indeed coming from Gibson. “Miss Woodley might be the poor relation now, by the way, but she’s much better born than her cousins.”

  Nick raised a brow. “How so? I’ve never heard of the Woodleys, other than in connection with horses.”

  “Maybe not but you’ll have heard of her connections.”

  “Are you going to enlighten me, Gibson, or are we to play guessing games?”

  “All right, no need to get uppity.” Gibson found something to straighten in the room and took his time explaining. “Her mother was the Earl of Lancaster’s daughter. It was her maternal grandmother as wanted to give her a season.”

  Nick permitted his surprise to show. “Quite a comedown for the lady then, marrying a nobody like Woodley.”

  “It was a love match by all accounts. The lady was past her prime and I guess Lancaster was starting to think he wouldn’t get her off his hands. Anyway, it seems she was determined, Lancaster took a liking to Woodley and the match went ahead. Turns out Alicia’s father had a natural way with horses, and his father-in-law helped him to establish his reputation.”

  “All very interesting.” But there had to be more. “Keep digging, Gibson. Talk to the grooms. See what you can find out about the running of the stud. Is it all on the up-and-up?” Nick impatiently pushed a thick curtain of curly hair out of his eyes and turned toward the door. “I want to know all you can find out about Woodley’s reasons for getting me here. Nothing will be said at dinner tonight, not with the ladies present. But I want to be prepared for him when he finally broaches the subject tomorrow.”

  Chapter Three

  Upon his arrival at Ravenswing Manor, Nick had been greeted by his host alone with a predictable degree of deference. He entered the drawing room now, resigned to the fact that he could no longer postpone his introduction to the female members of the family. Five faces turned in his direction but the only one of interest to him wasn’t amongst their number. Hiding his disappointment, Nick inclined his head toward Mrs. Woodley and raised her from her curtsey.

  “Allow me to present my son, Frederick, Your Grace,” Woodley said.

  Nick hadn’t known there was a son. The young man seemed to find it an almighty effort to rise to his feet and bow. That he was a dandy was immediately obvious from his apparel. The points of his collar were so high that he was in danger of impaling himself if he turned his head too quickly. There was a foppish air about him which irritated Nick, but when he troubled himself to smile he possessed a certain puerile charm. Nick could envisage his helpless demeanour appealing to females of all ages. Indeed, his mother could scare conceal her pride in her only son’s outlandish appearance.

  Next came the two daughters, Maria and Elsbeth. Both were exquisite creatures, if one’s fancy tended toward petite blondes with blue eyes and helpless demeanours. They boasted alabaster complexions with none of the freckles that beset their cousin’s features. Like their brother, they were dressed in the latest fashion. They put him in mind of Lady Isabel, which did little to further their cause.

  “Your servant, ladies.”

  Maria Woodley immediately put herself forward. It ought to have been her mother who spoke first but Maria didn’t give her the opportunity.

  “I long to hear all about Dorchester Park, Your Grace.” She fluttered her lashes above her fan. “Papa has told us something of its splendour. Oh, how I’d love to see it!”

  “And I,” agreed her sister.

  “Is that so?”

  Nick didn’t see how his host could presume to know anything about his ancestral
home and regarded that individual censoriously. Woodley coloured, coughed behind his hand and looked away. Satisfied that he’d made his displeasure plain, Nick answered the girls’ barrage of questions in the broadest of terms, withstanding their exclamations of delight with stoic indifference. He’d been obliged to fend off many similar opening salvos in the past and devoted less than a tenth of his attention to this particular one. Instead his eyes were drawn to Mrs. Woodley. She was half attending to the conversation whilst drumming her fingers impatiently on the arm of her chair. Clearly she was vexed about something. When the door opened a few minutes later and Alicia stepped in, it became apparent that her absence had been the cause of her aunt’s anxiety.

  “There you are, Alicia,” she said. “It is unforgivable of you to keep us waiting upon your pleasure.”

  “I beg your pardon, aunt. I lost track of time, it’s true, but I didn’t think I was late.”

  “You’re not, my dear,” Woodley said. “The rest of us were early in our eagerness to greet our guest. Your Grace, allow me to make my niece, Miss Alicia Woodley, known to you.”

  Nick bowed and honoured Alicia by taking her gloved hand in his as he raised her from her curtsey. It was a courtesy he’d not afforded to either of her cousins. A flash of annoyance passed across Maria’s countenance when he deliberately held on to Alicia’s hand for a fraction too long. Perhaps it wasn’t wise to display his partiality in such an obvious fashion, but Alicia only had herself to blame. In her shimmering changeable silk she was unrecognisable from the unruly hoyden who’d termed him an idiot that very afternoon, and infinitely more compelling too. One-dimensional women bored him rigid but this creature clearly had hidden depths. Nick fully intended to discover just how firmly entrenched they actually were.

  This time she was corseted, and her already remarkable figure was greatly improved through the good offices of that garment. He could see the outline of her slender limbs as she moved. The line of love-knotted lace guarding her décolletage drew his eye. He was still holding her hand and a frisson ricocheted through him when their eyes clashed. From her heightened colour and quizzical expression, it was apparent that she felt it too. And was confused by it. Nick turned his back on the rest of the company and audaciously winked at her. She gasped, snatched her hand violently from his grasp and moved away.