An Unlikely Duchess Page 15

  “If I may be so bold, your grace, you would have made an admirable career on the stage,” she quipped.

  The countess and Caroline gasped at her affront but the dowager laughed aloud.

  “We shall get on famously, you and me,” was her answer.

  Rebecca could not help but smile at the cunning matriarch.

  She heaved a sigh. “Caro, do not blame yourself. You are not to blame. I think we can all agree that if any one of us was going to drive poor Papa to a heart attack, it would be me.”

  Caroline smiled wanly at her, but Rebecca noticed, she did not actually argue with her.

  “It seems my sister has fallen victim to your blackmail scheme, your grace,” she turned once again to the dowager and was suddenly struck by a likeness between her and her son. Everyone said that he was the very image of his late father but there was definitely a striking familiarity there now. Perhaps it was the look of self-satisfaction, Rebecca thought ruefully.

  “And you?” the dowager asked.

  Rebecca looked to her mother. The countess smiled and said, “It is my wish that you do this Rebecca.”

  Oh marvellous.

  She looked to Caroline who whispered, “Please Becca.”

  “I do not wish to leave Father while he is so ill, Mama.”

  “I promise to keep you fully informed. If anything changes I shall write direct. Besides, with plenty of rest he may be able to make the journey for the end of the Season.”

  Rebecca had to admit that she had been looking forward to seeing London in all its glory and to seeing Edward again. She felt such pangs of guilt though, at the thought of her father bedridden and her mother alone.

  The countess, as if sensing her conflict, grasped her by the shoulders. “Her grace is right, Rebecca, though I am sure she meant it only to lighten the atmosphere. It will give your father great comfort to know that both you and your sister are endeavouring to make good matches. I know it will be hard to leave him, to leave us. But it is our dearest wish.”

  Eventually Rebecca had relented though somewhat grudgingly.

  ****

  Since Mr. Crawford was the only male at dinner that night, he chose to retire to the earl’s study for his port and cheroot.

  The ladies retired to the music room where Rebecca and Caroline played until the tea things came.

  They made idle chit chat but nobody’s mind was really on the conversation, a mixture of excitement for tomorrow, worry for the earl and guilt for leaving in the first place swirling through the ladies.

  Rebecca made her excuses as soon as was polite and was unsurprised to hear Caroline follow in her wake.

  She readied herself for bed dismissing Maura and instructing her to get some sleep for the early start tomorrow.

  Soon she would be in London. Soon she would be with the duke again. She wondered what the Season would hold for them all.

  CHAPTER FIFTEEN

  The day dawned bright and clear and Rebecca rose with the larks. She was filled with nervous tension. The reigning feeling was one of excitement. What would the Season hold for her? How would things develop between her and Edward? She was feeling much better about leaving having spent some time with her father last night.

  The earl had woken for a brief few moments and the girls had rushed to see him. Though he was weak and frail, he was able to reassure his daughters that he wasn’t quite ready to shuffle off this mortal coil just yet, and tell them that he was excessively pleased about them continuing with their plans to travel to London.

  It would be some hours before the rest of the household rose. They were due to set off directly after breakfast.

  Rebecca pulled the drapes and looked across her father’s lands, still crowned with dew drops and glistening in the weak morning sun. Spring was her favourite time of the year. Not cold enough to be confined to indoors and not yet stifling warm.

  Thinking of the long hours before breakfast, Rebecca decided a ride through the grounds would be just the thing to settle her jangling nerves. After donning her old, chocolate brown riding habit and hat in record time, she quickly made her way to the stables. Her new, deep red velvet habit was already packed away and she could not wait to wear it, but wasn’t going to risk ruining it on the muddy ground before getting the chance to show it off.

  She would be leaving her beloved horse at home for the duration of their stay in London. The dowager had assured both her and Caroline that the duke’s stables had plenty of horses, which would be available to them.

  Rebecca would miss her mount terribly and spent several minutes brushing her beautiful mane, spoiling her with oats and crooning promises of her swift return before saddling her.

  She mounted the animal and set off at a leisurely trot, making sure to steer clear of the woods, her encounter with Mr. Simons still fresh in her mind. Unfortunately, however, it appeared the man did not only lurk around trees for as she rounded the stables he stepped out in front of her, stopping her progress.

  Deciding that he deserved no politeness and refusing to be cowed by him, Rebecca lifted her brow haughtily and demanded, “What do you want?”

  Rather than be intimidated, he merely smirked not removing his eyes from her face.

  “I heard about your father.”

  “So did everybody, I imagine. Though it is no concern of yours.” She knew she was being unspeakably rude but the man terrified her and Rebecca just wanted him to leave her alone.

  “He is my landlord is he not?” Again that awful smirk, that deeply uncomfortable stare.

  “Please move out of my way,” was her only reply.

  There was a long pause as she awaited his response but he neither moved nor answered.

  Blowing out a sigh of frustration, Rebecca made to move around him but her anger getting the better of her, she turned back slightly and addressed him.

  “Your manner and speech are as insubordinate as they are insulting, Mr. Simons,” she stated coldly, “In future, do not address me unless I speak to you first. And there is little likelihood of that. Consider yourself lucky that I leave for London soon so will not take matters further. When I return, I expect to see and hear as little of you as possible.”

  Hoping to give him a set down, she was disappointed to hear his chuckle.

  “You will be seeing a lot more of me than you think, my lady.”

  Rebecca did not give him the satisfaction of responding or even breaking her stride.

  But what, she wondered, did he mean by that?

  Mr. Simons watched her go and finally gave way to the furious feelings that he’d kept in check. So, the lady thought him a nobody did she?

  It did not surprise him. The upper classes had always treated the likes of him like something unpleasant they’d stepped on.

  He’d had it often enough while he lived in London before his doddery old uncle met his demise and left him his farm.

  He’d only planned to come here for long enough to make whatever money he could from the place and then jump the first boat back to London and the gaming hells and low-brow establishments that awaited him.

  And then he’d seen her. She’d come to call with her father. Never had he seen a tastier morsel. She was obviously as uppity as the rest of her class but then he’d always liked the idea of taking one of them down a peg or two.

  From that day on he’d watched her, far more than the lady was aware. She was definitely more free spirited than her icy sister, though that lady was just as beautiful. And just as much a snob.

  His lip curled menacingly when he thought of what he’d do when he finally got his hands on her.

  What started off as lust had turned into a raging obsession. He felt a murderous rage thinking of her with that bastard who’d come to marry the older one, but had clearly got his eyes on the younger.

  Well, George Simons wasn’t afraid of him or anyone else who tried to get in his way.

  The lady would be his whether she wanted it or not. In fact, the less she wanted it, the
more exciting it would be…

  ****

  Edward arose early on the morning that his mother and her guests were due to arrive in London. He’d received her missive a few days ago telling him of the earl’s state of health and was now waiting to find out what news they would bring with them.

  His mother had explained her plans to bring the girls along with her and he hadn’t been able to stop the smile that broke on his face as he read of Rebecca’s rather vocal objections.

  He would expect nothing less.

  A frown broke quickly replacing the smile however as he thought of the earl’s health. He remembered with sorrowful clarity how his own father had died. The circumstances were much the same except the late duke had been in his study enjoying a late night brandy and had, by their reckoning and the doctor’s, taken suddenly ill.

  Thankfully Tom had been with Ranford at the time and was therefore able to call for help. It was presumed that the heir, Charles, would return home when he received the news. In point of fact, he could even be there by now, or very close. Edward was glad to know there would be someone there to run things.

  Probably not as efficiently as Rebecca, however.

  He smiled again, a ridiculous grin that he could not seem to wipe from his face. He chose not to examine why he felt so elated at the thought of seeing her again and instead called for his valet.

  They would not reach Town until later today and were sure to be exhausted from the long journey, first on the boat and then the long journey from the port at Holyhead to London. He could not imagine that several days of travelling would have any of them arriving in an overly joyous mood but he meant to be there, regardless.

  It would be remiss of him as a son, after all, not to welcome his own mother back home.

  “Ah, good morning, Bailey,” Edward greeted his valet as he entered the room in his usual quiet way.

  “Good morning, your grace. You seem rather happy today.”

  “I am, Bailey. I am.”

  “Might I enquire as to why? Tis rather unnerving.”

  Edward raised a brow at the valet’s sarcastic tone. Bailey had been with the family since before Edward’s birth and was more like family than servant. Of course, this gave him leave to say what he wanted, when he wanted to. And he was never afraid to voice whatever thought was on his mind.

  “Can’t a man wake up happy, ready to face whatever the day holds in store?”

  “A man, yes. You?” he trailed off without finishing the sentiment, though his meaning was clear.

  “You are fired.”

  “Very well, your grace. Shall you wear the blue coat today or the green?”

  Edward relented. He’d never best Bailey, not if he lived to be 100, which he suspected was Bailey’s age.

  “The blue, I think. I shall be gone for most of the day but please have my best dinner jacket prepared for this evening.”

  “You will be out dining, your grace?”

  Edward wasn’t surprised that Bailey was confused. The Season had only just begun and, even were it in full swing, Edward avoided more events than he attended as a rule. He was not blind to the fact that he was a prize the ladies of the ton thought worth catching.

  And if they played fair, he would not mind. But they didn’t! They were ruthless and terrifying, lurking behind corners and pretending to faint in front of him so he’d have to catch them. It was exhausting.

  “Perhaps. My mother returns to Town today.”

  Bailey looked none the wiser.

  “She will have guests with her. Ranford’s daughters. I want to be prepared in the event that I am expected to dine with them.”

  Bailey made little effort to hide his smile. Having been made privy to the entire marriage contract farce on Edward’s return, he suspected that the arrival of a certain young lady was the cause of such sudden happiness.

  “Lord Ranford’s daughters? So that would be the Lady Caroline then… and of course, Lady Rebecca?”

  Edward cleared his throat. “Yes, that is correct.”

  “Hmm.”

  “What is that supposed to mean?”

  “What, your grace?”

  “That face. That ‘hmm’?”

  “I am not following, your grace.”

  Edward stared at him suspiciously for a moment but Bailey being ever the professional remained as blank-faced and expressionless as ever.

  Edward huffed and turned away to begin dressing. He would just ignore Bailey’s knowing look. The man was exasperating.

  He meant to send a footman to watch his mother’s house this afternoon. It would be hours before the party arrived but Edward wanted to know the moment they were back. He wondered what the ladies would make of their first trip to London.

  ****

  Rebecca strained against the window as she tried to take in all of her surroundings at once. The excitement building in her was barely containable. She was here. Finally! After a gruelling journey that seemed to take weeks rather than days, they had arrived in London.

  It was a cacophony of sounds, sights and smells. Completely overwhelming and completely wonderful.

  Caroline had long since given up asking Rebecca to choose a side to sit on and stay on in the dowager’s luxurious carriage and had resigned herself to having Rebecca jump from side to side, half on top of her, every time something new caught her eye.

  “Caroline, is it not just wonderful?” Rebecca’s eyes shone and her face was flushed with excitement. She looked enchanting.

  Caroline smiled indulgently.

  “Yes, dear. It is very exciting,” she answered composedly.

  Rebecca frowned at her older sister. Caroline looked as pristine as if they’d just set off not one hour past. Her carriage dress was wrinkle free, her gloves immaculate and her hair still perfectly in place. In short, Caroline was the very picture of ladylike beauty.

  Rebecca had not yet seen her reflection but could only assume she looked like she’d been dragged through a hedge. Her gloves were stained and a little torn from when she’d fallen out of the carriage. For the second time.

  Her hair, barely containable on most days, had succumbed to the long hours, the bumps, the sea air, and was now a bundle of unruly curls being valiantly secured by dozens of pins.

  Something was going to lose the battle and Rebecca’s money was on the pins.

  But none of that was of any consequence now. They were finally here and she was elated.

  They passed through streets of vendors packing up their wares for the evening. They passed so many people, shops and beautiful buildings that her head fairly spun.

  Rebecca could not wait to explore it all.

  The rough and tumble of the city began to give way to a much more dignified setting, which in turn gave way to pure opulence and Rebecca knew they must be nearing their destination.

  She was proved right when the dowager, who had slept for some of the journey, awoke and gave an exclamation of relief.

  “Finally. Here we are girls. Not long until we reach Mayfair.”

  After a few moments of silence, Caroline exclaimed, “Look Rebecca. That is our Townhouse.”

  Rebecca gazed out at the imposing structure they were passing. The house was white, like those surrounding it, with huge black wrought iron gates and black doors. It was as opulent and beautiful as she expected it to be. Her father’s family had exquisite taste.

  She wondered if they’d get to see inside it before they left. If Papa would truly be able to come.

  Her thoughts were soon diverted however by the carriage rolling to a stop in front of an imposing townhouse, even more grandiose than the Ranford one. It looked to be larger and more intimidating, though perhaps it only seemed that way to Rebecca since her nerves were once again well and truly rattling.

  She was about to be launched into the absolute cream of London Society. In fact, she was the cream of London Society! Rebecca Carrington, who sometimes forgot to pin her hair up and had to be bodily removed upstairs by M
aura to rectify her faux pas. Who rode astride when she could get away with it, for Heaven’s sake. Who climbed trees and fished and generally did the opposite of what she should.

  She swallowed convulsively as they made their way up the steps to the front door, which had already been opened for them. Footmen scrambled about removing their luggage and a rather imposing butler stood waiting to receive them at the door.

  “Welcome home, your grace.”

  “Ah Jeffries, good to be back. Please allow me to introduce you to Lady Caroline Carrington and Lady Rebecca Carrington, the young ladies who will be breathing life into our house for the Season,” the dowager answered with a smile.

  The dowager seemed truly excited about having them there. Rebecca dearly wished that she would not let the older woman down and decided then and there to do her utmost to conduct herself like an absolute lady at all times.

  She would act with poise, calm and aloof grace. Basically, she would mimic everything Caroline did. She just hoped it would be enough.

  “Now girls, I shall get Mrs. Humphries here to show you to your rooms,” the dowager continued indicating an older woman who had made her way over to them with a broad and welcoming smile. “Please, freshen up from our journey and then join me in the drawing room for tea. I am sure we are all far too tired to even think of going out tonight but I intend to show you both off in style tomorrow.”

  Caroline and Rebecca smiled excitedly as they thanked the dowager and made for their rooms.

  Thankfully, the carriage carrying Maura and Caroline’s maid along with the luggage would follow not too far behind. Rebecca was sure she would be able to change from her carriage dress to the simple afternoon muslin she’d brought in her valise without assistance.

  Before she’d even removed it from her small bag however, a knock sounded at the door and a young maid entered bobbing a curtsy.

  “Beg pardon, my lady,” she spoke in a soft voice, “her grace has sent me to assist you if I can.”

  Rebecca smiled kindly at the shy young girl.

  “Thank you, I was just going to change into my dress but I am sure I shall manage.”