The Duke Conspiracy: A Sweet Regency Romance Adventure (Mayfair Mayhem Book 1) Page 9

  Elizabeth joined her friend in a fit of giggles. “I shall try. Anything is better than this wretched needlework my mother expects me to work on.” With those words, she tossed the offending craft aside and gave her full attention to her guest. “Shall I ring for tea?”

  “Perhaps later. For now it is best if we are undisturbed, as I wish for this to remain a secret.”

  Elizabeth’s eyes widened a little with these words, but she nodded eagerly in response.

  “At the musicale I overheard someone discussing a plan to entrap the Duke of Wrentham into marriage.” Rose did not elaborate, merely stating the bare facts rather baldly, and waiting for her friend’s reaction.

  “I beg your pardon?” Elizabeth clearly had not been expecting this. “Well, I now understand why you were so undecided on the subject. What are you going to do?”

  “I was truly torn, I am rather ashamed to admit. But loyalty to my former friend won out and I met with the duke this morning and told him about it.”

  Now Elizabeth’s eyes were widened to the size of saucers. “Have you gone mad? What if you had been seen? You could have been ruined, as I am fairly certain your parents would not countenance a match with him even if it were to avoid scandal.”

  Rose had to grin at these words. “My maid was with me, have no fear.”

  “So why did you decide to tell me now, if you felt you could not before?”

  “I need your help to get to the bottom of the matter, in all honesty. I promised Wrentham I would see what I could find out. He seemed genuinely surprised to find out that such a plan was hatched, especially by the parties involved.”

  “Who was it by the by?”

  “The conversation I heard was between Lord Austen and Sir Broderick with regards to Lady Anne.”

  “Truly?” Elizabeth gasped. “How perfectly extraordinary.”

  The two girls sat in silence for a moment, both contemplating the implications. Elizabeth broke the silence. “That is why you were wondering who Lord Austen is. So, you must suspect there is something more afoot than Lord Austen wishing to fill his pockets with some of Wrentham’s wealth or you would not be so concerned. No doubt young ladies have been attempting to entrap the duke since he left Eton, so I would guess it is second nature for him to avoid stepping into the parson’s mousetrap.”

  “You are very astute, my friend. It was the fact that it was even being discussed that made me first suspect a hidden plot. And the seeming lack of any connection between the two men. I would imagine there are various family members who might discuss such a plan in the privacy of their homes, or perhaps at their clubs when they are in their cups, but this struck me as being particularly odd.”

  “What did Wrentham have to say?”

  “Not much, really.” Rose was clearly disappointed. “I got the distinct impression he isn’t really interested in my help. He thinks young ladies should be ornamental rather than of any use. He merely thanked me for the information, promised to confer with his solicitors, asked me to look into Lady Anne, and agreed to meet me in a couple days to discuss what each of us have managed to discover.”

  “So you are going to have another clandestine meeting with the duke?” Elizabeth was incredulous.

  “With my maid in tow,” Rose protested.

  Elizabeth appeared unconvinced but refrained from further comment on that score. “So you are actually here to enlist my aid in meeting Lady Anne, are you not?”

  Rose blushed before she could school her features, causing Elizabeth to burst out laughing. “Oh, do not turn missish on me now, my friend. I promise you, I have taken no offense. I understand you have conflicted feelings on this matter. It is perfectly fine that you could not come to me about this earlier. But before we delve into Lady Anne, let me ask you this: are you sure you are going to be all right with any involvement with the duke, even just a little?”

  “As right as rain,” Rose answered cheerfully.

  “That expression does not reassure me. To my mind, rain is always a little melancholy.”

  “But so necessary for things to grow,” Rose countered, which brought a grin to Elizabeth’s face.

  “You always have an answer for everything, don’t you?”

  “I try. Now what can you tell me about Lady Anne?”

  “Not much, really. She is a pleasant enough girl, a little mousy. I must agree with the duke. I never would have thought she had it in her to be involved in something as complicated as a scheme to entrap a nobleman into marriage. But she and her father are very close—they only have had each other since her mother died—so no doubt it is out of a sense of devotion to him. As I told you the other night, he is rather far up the River Tick so she is probably trying to help him recover the family’s coffers.”

  “Do you like her?” Rose inquired softly.

  “To be honest, she does not inspire strong feelings either for or against. She seems pleasant. Rather like many of the debutantes, really. Always proper, never having much of an opinion. She will probably drive you mad,” Elizabeth concluded with a grin.

  “Excellent, so I shall not be overly sad at upsetting her plans.”

  “Would you have been otherwise?” Elizabeth was surprised.

  “Of course. Marriage is an honourable arrangement. I believe it is a dishonourable way to go about trying to entrap someone, but since she lost her mother and her father is depending on her, my heart does go out to her. If she had set her sights on someone other than Alex and if Broderick were not involved, I would have looked the other way gladly. In fact, if I found I quite liked her, perhaps I would have been inclined to even help. But they did pick Alex and Broderick is involved, so there is no other choice but to step in and stop it. I just hope it can be done without ruining anybody’s reputation.”

  Elizabeth stared at Rose. “You are one complicated young woman, aren’t you? It seems to me that you think too much.”

  “Mayhap you are correct. Now, I feel a little parched after all this talking.”

  Elizabeth’s tinkle of laughter announced she had taken no offense over her friend’s broad hint as she reached for the bell pull. “Tea shall be here momentarily.”

  After being suitably refreshed, the two ladies set out to call upon Lady Anne.

  Rose was surprised as Elizabeth’s carriage pulled up in front of a large, elegant townhouse on a very fashionable street in Mayfair. Her thoughts must have been written upon her face because Elizabeth smiled with glee.

  “Did I fail to mention that the Austens are staying with Lady Anne’s maternal aunt, the Countess of Silverthorne? The countess is sponsoring Lady Anne’s Season. She and Lady Austen were sisters and quite close.”

  Rose was a trifle discomfited by these words. Somehow it made it seem so much more difficult knowing that Lady Anne was well connected. Bracing her shoulders staunchly, she reminded herself that it was a good thing that the lady was well connected. She would be protected from any fallout. And no matter her connections, she should never have set her sights upon Alex. Nor gotten involved with Sir Broderick. Really, when one looked at it from a certain perspective, Rose was doing the lady a favour by attempting to sever her connection with the despicable knight.

  Thus resolved, she followed Elizabeth from the carriage and up the stairs to be admitted by the attentive footman.

  “We have called by to see if Lady Anne is receiving visitors today.”

  “Very well, Lady Elizabeth, if you and your friend would like to have a seat in the Green Room. I shall see if Lady Anne is at home to visitors.”

  The footman escorted them to a lovely room just off the foyer. Rose looked around with interest. The room was aptly named: it was an inviting, cheerful shade of green. Rose quite thought she would like the countess if she were anything like her colour choices indicated. The pleasant smile remained fixed upon her face while there was a commotion in the foyer.

  A wispy young woman fluttered into the room. Rose could well see why Elizabeth had described her as mousy.
She was very petite and her hair was rather like the colour of a field mouse, a brown that leaned toward grey rather than gold. She looked nervous and fidgety, but it could have just been a trick of her small eyes. At least she was smiling pleasantly enough, Rose observed, avid curiosity about the young woman battling with the conflicted feelings urging her to protect the duke.

  Stepping into the room, she dropped a brief curtsy, smiling nervously. “How kind of you to visit me, Lady Elizabeth.”

  Elizabeth, always poised, smiled graciously and turned to introduce Rose. “Thank you for seeing us, my lady. Please allow me to introduce my friend, Miss Rose Smythe. She is a little late in making her debut and has not yet made the acquaintance of everyone around Town.”

  “It is a pleasure to meet you, Lady Anne,” Rose said as she dipped into a curtsy of her own. “I was just admiring this lovely room. It must be a pleasure to receive people here. It would be impossible to remain out of sorts in such an environment.”

  Anne looked surprised as she gazed about at the walls. “I never thought about that before. I did think it was a pleasant room,” she agreed.

  Rose had to stifle her grin as she remembered Elizabeth’s words about Anne rarely having an opinion of her own. How could she not have noticed how lovely this space is? she marvelled, wondering if the poor girl might not be all right in her head.

  “Have you been enjoying your first Season, Miss Smythe?” Lady Anne asked politely after they had all taken their seats.

  “I have, thank you, now that I have made a few friends and feel a little bit more at home. I will admit to you that in the beginning I felt a trifle awkward when everyone felt like strangers. It seemed to me as though everyone else already knew each other and I was the only odd one out.”

  “I know just what you mean. I felt the very same way,” Lady Anne agreed once more.

  Rose thought of the way to steer the conversation in the right direction. “I never even had a dance partner at my first couple of balls. I feared I was to be a wallflower for the rest of my days.”

  “Oh yes, that is such a terrible feeling.”

  Elizabeth could see where Rose was taking this conversation, and she had to bite her lip to stop the quiver as she was swept with an appreciation for how droll the situation was.

  “Oh come, now, Lady Anne, you cannot mean to make me think you ever suffered from being amongst the wallflowers. Why just the other night I was so sure I saw you dancing with the Duke of Wrentham.”

  Anne blushed rosily, making her appear much more animated than was her usual mien. “Well, yes, I did dance with the duke,” she admitted with shy pride. “He is such an elegant dance partner. And so kind.”

  “I have not spent overmuch time in his presence, although I did dance with him that same evening that Miss Rosamund is referring to,” Elizabeth said, “Did you enjoy dancing with him?”

  “Very much,” Anne answered simply with a wide smile.

  “Have you danced with him often?” Rose prompted, hoping they did not appear too eager for information, thinking they ought to change the subject for a moment and then bring it back somehow.

  “Not yet, that was our first dance, but hopefully there will be more.” Anne blushed.

  “To be sure,” Rose replied, seeing that the young woman seemed sincere. “I am happy to report that while I did not have such an exalted dance partner, I finally did make it onto the dance floor at that very same ball. Lord Dunbar was the first gentleman to invite me, but after that I was kept quite busy. It certainly changes your perspective once you get away from the sidelines.”

  “Most certainly,” Anne agreed pleasantly.

  Rose wondered how they could possibly get much information out of the young woman when they heard the door knocker sound. All three looked toward the doorway expectantly. Rose was unsure whether to be disappointed or delighted when Ladies Emmaline and Constance Chadwick were announced. They may be a help or a hindrance.

  Lady Anne rose gracefully to welcome the new arrivals. Her bland reception did not inhibit the Chadwick ladies in any way. They strode in energetically, Emmaline chattering away as Constance echoed her sentiments at intervals.

  “Oh, how lovely to see you here, Lady Elizabeth, and you, too, Miss Smythe,” Emmaline greeted.

  “Yes, lovely,” Constance parroted as Rose and Elizabeth tried to control their amused smiles.

  “Good day to you, as well,” Elizabeth replied politely while Rose merely curtsied in their direction, allowing Elizabeth to take control of the conversation with the newest arrivals.

  “We were just talking about how we are enjoying the Season. No doubt neither of you have ever spent any time amongst the wallflowers, but we were just discussing how much more enjoyable a ball is when viewed from the dance floor.” This was just the conversational gambit to set Emmaline off.

  “Oh, yes, my lady, is it not just the very thing? You said the truth, of course, when you mentioned we have not much been sidelined, but I can just imagine it must be awkward if one does not have someone to ensure you have the proper introductions at your first ball.”

  With those words she glanced in Rose’s direction, leaving her to wonder if the look was one of sympathy or gloating. Rose returned her gaze with as enigmatic a smile as she could muster, refusing to be cowed by the likes of her. Undeterred, Emmaline launched into a litany of her best dance partners.

  “Lord Dunbar is a dream to dance with, but I must say my favourite dance partner thus far has been the Duke of Wrentham.”

  “Oh, we were just talking about him,” Lady Anne interjected, surprising everyone by volunteering some information.

  “Isn’t he lovely?” Emmaline asked rhetorically.

  Rose made an effort to control her desire to scoff over this statement as she remembered the multitude of times she had seen him standing knee deep in mud with a frog in his hands or some other loathsome boyish stunt. “What do you find to be so lovely about him?” she asked, pleased with the neutral but inquisitive tone she managed to achieve.

  “Well, he is handsome and polite,” Lady Emmaline began.

  “And he has quite a bit of hair,” interjected Lady Constance, which caused Rose to have to bite her lip to keep from chuckling. If that was the best thing to recommend him, clearly these ladies had not set their standards overly high. Or so she thought.

  “That is an excellent point,” Lady Elizabeth pointed out. “So few of the earls or dukes have kept their hair.”

  Nodding with enthusiasm, Lady Emmaline continued, “And, of course, one cannot discount the matter of him being a duke and rumoured to be as rich as Croesus.”

  “And he actually listens,” Lady Anne added quietly into the silence that had followed Emmaline’s words.

  Rose blinked with a touch of surprise at this statement. Fearing she was not going to be happy with the answer to the question, she asked it anyway. “What do you mean by that, Lady Anne?”

  Anne lifted her shoulder in a little shrug, clearly embarrassed to have said something requiring further explanation, but she finally answered after a moment of thought. “I have only spoken with him a couple of times, but I have noticed that he will ask a question and actually wait for you to answer. It appears as though he listens to your words and how you say them and gives thought to what you have said. Have you not noticed that most gentlemen merely expect you to agree with them or say the same thing as everyone else is saying? Conversations at balls are so rarely original. That is not to say that I have anything original to say, but the duke gave the impression that if you did have a thought, he would be prepared for it.”

  Rose blinked furiously to rid her eyes of the ridiculous mist that had formed as she listened to Anne’s explanation. It crossed her mind that she wished it were her that the duke was listening to so attentively. The plethora of feelings she was feeling at the moment were complicated and not ones she would be able to decipher and deal with at the moment, so she shoved them to the back of her mind to be dealt with la
ter.

  There was a little silence following Anne’s words, which Emmaline cheerfully broke. “Like I said, just lovely.” These words were met with a ripple of laughter.

  Rose was torn between relief and disappointment when Elizabeth stood, signalling the time for their visit had come to an end.

  “It was lovely to see you all today, but Miss Smythe and I must be on our way.”

  Lady Anne stood to see them out. “Thank you for stopping by. You must come and have a longer visit one day soon.”

  “Thank you, my lady. That would be most pleasant, I am sure. Why don’t you join Miss Smythe and me for a cup of tea tomorrow? I am planning a quiet day without much running around, so having someone come to me would be the perfect thing.”

  Lady Anne blushed with her gratification. “Thank you, I shall be delighted.”

  Rose, too, was delighted with her friend’s manoeuvrings and was quick to compliment her as they walked away with her maid in tow. “That was very well managed, my friend.”

  Elizabeth’s tinkle of laughter rang out. “That was nothing, Rose, wait until tomorrow. Today we just laid the groundwork. Tomorrow, when we have her on our terms, we shall really dig into the matter.”

  Rose grinned at her friend’s enthusiasm. “The only problem I foresee is that the poor dear appears to be sincere. It seems to me that her life is not a happy one, and her words about the duke listening to her really struck me. What if she truly does have feelings for him?”

  Elizabeth looked at Rose seriously. “Will that matter overmuch? Does it change your concerns about her father’s machinations?”

  “No, but it will bother me more,” Rose admitted. “I would prefer that she had a cold heart and was out to hurt him. Then I would have a clear conscience, as I would be rescuing my old friend.”

  “Have no fear on that score. I firmly believe it is still a rescue mission.”

  The two girls laughed, linked arms, and made their way home in harmony.

  Chapter Eight

  That evening, Rose paid particular attention to her appearance, much to her maid’s chagrin.