The Duke Suggests a Scandal Read online

  As the most eligible bachelor at the ball, Harry found himself the object of far more attention than he had anticipated. It seemed that Miss Hendrington in particular was exceptionally keen to engage his interest for a dance or two. Wherever he went about the room and however hard he tried to lose her, she held her course firmly and remained at his side.

  Harry did not often praise the good fortune which had landed him with a dear friend as flirtatious and rascally as Captain Kirby, but tonight it served him very well.

  “Miss Hendrington,” said Kirby, smoothly interrupting the lady’s excessive laughter over a remark of Harry’s which really had not been so very amusing. “You have me at quite the disadvantage, as a stranger to Surrey. I really must know all the little diversions which have kept Harry from town for so long. Please, Miss Hendrington, enlighten me. What do you do to entertain yourself so far from town?”

  “Oh, Captain Kirby! You have quite mistaken my preference. I am entirely enamoured with London and everything it has to offer. The countryside is nothing by comparison. Why, we dine with several very good families – but until the dear Duke arrived there was nobody to speak of – and I am fortunate to have doting parents who throw me as many balls as I can ask for – but it’s really nothing compared to London in the Season! In truth I cannot wait until we depart. Is it not so with you, Your Grace?”

  Miss Hendrington turned to Harry as if he had been the one to ask the question, not his friend.

  “I am sorry to disagree with you,” he said politely, though he was not sorry at all to hear that the flighty young woman would shortly be departing. “I have not yet decided whether to go to London this Season at all.”

  “Oh, surely not, Your Grace! Your first Season as Duke!” Miss Hendrington gave him a smile that was all too knowing. “I am quite sure you will find something in town to keep you entertained.”

  Harry coughed quietly and gave his friend Kirby a signal.

  “You see what an old bore I have to contend with, Miss Hendrington!” cried Captain Kirby, offering her his arm and steering her deftly away. As they went, he shot Harry a look of concern, as if to say that he could not imagine why the Duke was not lapping up the attention in his customary manner.

  Miss Hendrington was perfectly pretty, perfectly well-spoken, perfectly accomplished. But she was not Catherine, and Catherine was all that mattered.

  Harry turned his head to find that very lady, flanked by her sisters, entering the room. He took a step towards her but was beaten to their side by the solicitous Mr Hinton, who had clearly also been keeping a lookout for Miss Sharp.

  He watched as Catherine turned her head towards Hinton – heard the forced tinkle of her laughter – saw her reach for her dance card – It was too much to bear. He very nearly ran across the room and was at her side in an instant.

  “May I engage you for the first dance, Miss Sharp?” he asked breathlessly, before even saying hello.

  Catherine nearly dropped her dance card. “Your Grace! I – I am so sorry – I am not free for the first dance.”

  Hinton, turning a peculiar shade of crimson in the face of Harry’s rudeness, gave him a smirk.

  “Surely your card is not completely full?” Harry countered, maintaining his smile despite his strong desire to land a blow on Hinton’s smug mouth. “The boulanger – you cannot be engaged for the boulanger.”

  This was the dance before dinner. Whoever engaged Miss Sharp for the boulanger would have the honour of escorting her into the dining room. Harry heard a frantic cough from Mr Hinton, and knew that he had beaten him to it.

  “I would be delighted,” said Catherine, with a smile that stopped Harry’s heart in its tracks. The rules of society dictated that she could say nothing else – but that smile told Harry her heart was behind her acceptance.

  There was no time to speak any more to Catherine. Places were being taken up for the first dance. As Hinton led Catherine out of reach, Harry requested the first dance from Mrs Blakely and the second from Alice Sharp. He knew the Hendringtons would take it as a slight if he ignored their daughter for too long, but he had no interest in any family other than Catherine’s.

  “Really, Your Grace, you are too awful,” Mrs Blakely hissed at him as they negotiated the complicated footwork. “I have already taken you into my confidence regarding my hopes for Catherine and Mr Hinton. It was very bad of you to prevent him asking her a second time to dance.”

  “I see that none of the Sharp sisters have any care for my new station when it comes to speaking their mind,” said Harry. He could not stop himself from grinning. Agnes Blakely was mortified.

  “Please forgive me, Your Grace, I –”

  “You misunderstand me. It was not intended as a rebuke, but a compliment.”

  Agnes was relieved for a moment – then her sharp eyes narrowed. “When have my sisters spoken their mind to you in a similar fashion?”

  “I could not possibly say, Mrs Blakely. It would mean betraying a confidence – and that I would never do.”

  “Hm.” Agnes jumped and clapped in time with the music. She was a very methodical dancer; all the steps were in place, but no passion lay behind her movements. Harry felt a stab of pity for Mr Blakely, although the man himself seemed bloodless enough. “It is one thing for an old married woman such as myself to be outspoken,” said Agnes. “It will not do for a young maid. I will speak to Alice as soon as possible.”

  “Alice?” repeated Harry, surprised.

  So Agnes could not imagine Catherine speaking out of turn! That boded well. It meant that she was never so forthright, never so much herself, as she was with him.

  “Please do not speak to Alice,” he said quickly. “She is an altogether charming young woman. It would spoil her to be squashed into submission.”

  Indeed, Alice’s energetic style of dancing saw fit to trample her poor brother-in-law, Mr Blakely, as he guided her through the dance.

  But it was nothing to the way Catherine moved. Nothing compared to her graceful and enticing steps. Harry felt his eyes ever drawn to her and fought to keep his focus on his partner.

  He could not let the sharp-eyed Agnes suspect his feelings. It was too soon for that.

  As he saw the way Catherine leaned delicately away from every word that emanated from Hinton’s mouth, he began to see his way forward. A dangerous path, to be sure. But to have Catherine in his arms… that would make it all worthwhile.

  Before the second dance he caught Miss Hendrington and Alice in very animated conversation. Miss Hendrington gave him a look of pure scorn and was about to flounce away, when he called to her and offered her the consolation of his third dance.

  “I am already engaged for the third,” she sniffed, holding her dance card so that it could not be seen.

  Harry felt Lord Hendrington’s eyes fix on him and knew he must do his duty by his host.

  “The fourth, then? I would be so greatly honoured.”

  Miss Hendrington gave a haughty nod and sailed away on the wind of her own self-righteousness.

  “Shall I take it as a yes?” Harry asked Alice, feeling rather baffled. She giggled behind her hand.

  “Beware of that one, Your Grace. She has but recently been telling me of how she plans to redecorate Westbourne Hall.”

  “I am sure you ought not to tell me these things,” Harry chastised her quietly as he led her into the dance. “They were told to you in confidence.”

  “Oh! What is a confidence between old friends such as we? Miss Hendrington never read me stories while I was a little girl, and you did. My loyalty can only be to you, Your Grace. Besides, that is nothing compared to what I heard this morning…”

  Alice proceeded to embark on a ribald retelling of every piece of gossip the little town of Larksley had to offer. Harry, who had himself often been the subject of such gossip, listened with a growing sense of weariness. Alice had a taste for scandal to rival his aunt’s.

  “And the things I heard of Captain Kirby –”
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br />   “Kirby is a dear friend of mine, Miss Sharp. I beg you, do not spread ill tidings of him. Everything he does reflects upon me, you know.”

  “Of course,” said Alice, biting her lip, and not at all chastised.

  Harry lapsed into silence and counted down the minutes until Catherine was dancing at his side.

  CHAPTER TEN

  The Duke of Westbourne had asked her to dance.

  The Duke of Westbourne had asked her to dance!

  It was a heady thought. Catherine had never danced with a Duke before.

  Of course, the Duke of Westbourne had also attempted to kiss her, had met with her alone, and had spoken words of love to her – but that was an insubstantial trick by comparison.

  A dance – the dance before dinner – that was solid and real. Everyone would see them together.

  Catherine felt quite light-headed. She barely took note of anything in the room but Harry, his tall and manly figure striking against the general plainness of the company.

  Of course, she told herself, it would be foolish to read too much into his request. Still more dangerous to take it as an indication of his intentions towards her. It was only a dance. And he was sharing two other dances with her sisters!

  Still, that in itself must surely speak of a special interest…

  No. Catherine brought her mind back down from the clouds and did her best to focus on her partner. Mr Hinton was not a natural dancer, but he tried very hard and only managed to trample her feet twice. The exertion had him red in the face and sweating, but even that could not stem the constant flow of dull conversation which poured from his lips. He spoke of the weather, of the furniture, of the pleasant pastime which was dancing – as if a man as portly as Mr Hinton could gain any pleasure from dancing! – in short, he kept up a steady babble which fortunately required no response from his partner at all.

  If Mr Hinton loved Catherine, he surely loved the sound of his own voice far better.

  Once the first dance was mercifully concluded, Catherine excused herself and immediately moved as far away as possible to avoid being asked for a second. She knew Agnes would have preferred her to accept Mr Hinton’s show of special interest, but she could not quite bring herself to endure any more time in his company.

  Still, she smiled and curtseyed very prettily. He was charmed enough. She was sure of it. She could not imagine many women had ever attempted to charm Mr Hinton.

  She danced the next with Mr Blakely, and following that had no shortage of partners. There was a most fortunate balance between gentlemen and ladies at the ball. Most notable among them was Captain Kirby, the Duke of Westbourne’s dashing friend, who danced exceedingly well and had already drawn the eye of many of the ladies around the room.

  He may have been a gifted conversationalist, but Catherine did not benefit from it. She blundered through the dance with her mind entirely caught up in her upcoming dance with the Duke.

  Harry was now dancing with Miss Hendrington, whose loud giggles could be heard even above the music. What on earth could the Duke be saying that was so very funny?

  Catherine made a promise with herself that her own behaviour would not be nearly so silly. In point of fact, the Duke deserved nothing more than chilly politeness after his louche behaviour on the riverbank.

  Then why was she looking forward to their dance with such a frantic sense of anticipation? Why did she find her eyes following him about the room? Why on earth had she devoted so much thought to the state of his hair, a dark and tumultuous tousle which begged for a woman’s touch to smooth it?

  “Are you acquainted with Westbourne?” asked Captain Kirby. Only that was enough to drag her thoughts back to her partner.

  She did not know how to answer. He must have caught her looking at his friend. She could hardly meet his eyes for the shame of it.

  “I was once, a long time ago. We grew up very close. I cannot say that I know him now at all.”

  Kirby frowned at her. She sensed the whirring of complex clockwork behind his steady gaze. “Is it your wish to…rekindle that friendship now?”

  Catherine was taken aback. To be asked such a direct question by a near-stranger, and in public! She opened her mouth to respond when Kirby interrupted her.

  “He has had many difficult times in his life, Miss Sharp. My greatest wish is to see my friend happy.” He glanced across at Harry, who was leaning in close to Miss Hendrington to listen to something that she had to say. “I believe he is happy now. A man is never so happy as when he is free. Is that not so, Miss Sharp?”

  “I believe happiness is different for everyone,” said Catherine. “I could not presume to guess what brings the Duke joy. Very likely it may be different from man to man.”

  “Still, freedom is surely the greatest of all joys. I never knew a man more weighed down by marriage than Westbourne.” Kirby gave her an appraising look. “I hope you take my meaning, Miss Sharp.”

  “It seems you have not yet had time to catch up with all the gossip of Larksley,” said Catherine primly.

  “Ha! Does this little place afford even the slightest hint of scandal?”

  “No scandals, Captain. I only mean that you need not concern yourself about your friend on my account.” She hesitated, wondering how far she ought to go. Captain Kirby did not seem the type to befriend Mr Hinton. Something in his manner was so open and engaging that she found herself saying more than was strictly wise. “I am all but spoken for. I am glad to hear you expound upon the joys of freedom, for as a woman it is not something with which I have much experience.”

  “My apologies, Miss Sharp.” Kirby looked genuinely sorry. “I have evidently misread the situation. I did not wish to offend.”

  The dance ended and Catherine curtseyed with a smile. “I am not at all offended, Captain. I am glad to be able to speak so frankly with you. That’s all.”

  The rest of the evening passed in the usual blur until she found Harry at her elbow as the musicians tuned up for the boulanger.

  “Miss Sharp,” was all he said, in a quiet murmur that sent a thrill down her spine.

  He spoke her name as if she belonged to him.

  “I hope you are not too fatigued by your efforts tonight, Your Grace,” she said, barely inclining her head towards him as she spoke.

  “I believe I will make you a very able partner,” said Harry with a quiet smile. He guided her through to their starting positions. She was surprised to find how very far up through the company she had been elevated now that she was dancing with the Duke.

  Now that Harry was finally before her, Catherine found herself struggling to look him directly in the eyes. He held her with a piercing, steady gaze, and the bright sky-blue beaming from underneath his dark tumble of hair was most disconcerting.

  “I didn’t know you were so fond of charity work, Miss Sharp,” said Harry, once the music had begun. He spoke very softly, so that they could not be heard by the others around them, and she responded likewise.

  “Charity, Your Grace?”

  “You were so kind as to dance with that insufferable old fool, Mr Hinton. Not only that but you threw one or two words of conversation his way. For a charming young woman such as yourself the strain must have been immense.”

  Catherine looked up finally to see that he was only half-joking. Though his words were lighthearted, his jaw was set and his expression fiery.

  “I pray you, do not speak so of Mr Hinton. He is my very dear friend.”

  “Soon to be your dearest friend. Yes, I know.” He bent his head so that his lips were very close to her ear, making it all look a part of the dance. “Cathy, how can you choose such a man!”

  She stiffened, feeling his breath on her ear send a flash of warmth through her body, and feeling suddenly that she was in a very dangerous situation despite the bright lights and the company.

  “Had you anything else to say, Your Grace? Some other topic of conversation will undoubtedly prove more pleasant for the both of us.”

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bsp; “Your sisters seem well,” said Harry, after a pause. “Married life suits Mrs Blakely.”

  “She has been very lucky.”

  “And Alice is all smiles and intrigue. But you – you are not smiling, Miss Sharp.”

  “I do not smile on demand.”

  “A pity. It is an expression which has long caught in my memory. I have often thought of your smile, Miss Sharp, and wondered when I might see it again.”

  “Your luck would be far better, then, if you let such subjects alone.” Catherine gritted her teeth, endeavouring not to let her discomfort show on her face. “You’d do better to follow Mr Hinton’s example and talk of the weather.”

  “Ah! The weather! That will keep you fascinated until the end of your days,” Harry smirked. Catherine was shocked at herself for speaking so. She had not exactly meant to insult Mr Hinton – but she had certainly not intended to compliment him, either. The Duke evidently brought out something in her that was better left hidden.

  Thankfully, Harry turned the conversation to less provocative topics. All the while he spoke, Catherine felt a growing appreciation for the deep, honeyed tones of his voice. It made every commonplace thing – asking after her father, giving news of his own family – into a musical and meaningful subject.

  He was just telling her of a particular ride he loved to take through the countryside surrounding Larksley when they were called in to dine. Catherine glided into the dining room on Harry’s arm, supported by the muscular strength which infused every limb of his body.

  She was starting to understand how her old friend had built up his rakish reputation. It would be almost too easy to believe that his attentions were for her alone. Dangerously easy to let herself sink into his eyes, soothed by his honey-dipped voice, and fall in love with him.

  But everything she had said to Captain Kirby was true. Freedom to love was not something she could afford.

  Even if it was… Catherine was not fool enough to believe that Harry had eyes only for her. How could he, with half the young women of the ton flinging themselves at his feet?