Daring a Duke Page 9

  “I thought to save the situation for you,” Calbourne said, a very amused smile on his face, which was not at all com-plimentary to Edenham, Edenham was entirely certain,

  “and instead I find that the little American has taken things into her own charming hands and saved Lady Paignton, from you, I suppose. She has no idea who Lady Paignton is to you, that’s obvious.”

  “The little American’s name is Miss Jane Elliot,” Edenham said without too much chilliness. It was never good policy to display any sort of upset in front of the Duke of Calbourne. He was precisely the sort of man to make endless sport of such a situation, not that Edenham held that against any man. A man found his pleasures where he could, after all. “As to what she knows, as she’s just arrived in London—I should say she knows nothing whatsoever.”

  “Which could play entirely to your advantage, Edenham, if you have any inclination to engage in a mild form of entertainment with her.”

  “I intend nothing of the sort,” Edenham said, beckoning a servant with look, taking a glass of champagne from the proffered silver tray and taking a casual sip.

  “She’s related to Hyde, is she not?” Calbourne asked, looking about the room, possibly for Miss Elliot. “Of course she is. She’d hardly be invited if not. Some connection through Molly, I should think.”

  “Molly’s niece, though there is also some connection to Lady Dalby, though of what sort I am not yet certain.”

  Upon the words, Calbourne turned rather desperate around the eyes. “Lady Dalby? Run, Edenham. Do not dally with this slip of a girl. If Sophia Dalby is backing her, you’ll be married by tomorrow noon.”

  There was a thought. He’d asked Sophia’s aid in helping him, but perhaps her efforts would bear richer fruit if she offered to help Miss Elliot. Of course, given Miss Elliot’s current state of mind, what would Jane want but to be helped onto the first ship for America?

  How had it gone so wrong, so quickly? He was not an immodest man, and certainly having three dead wives to his credit did put some women off, the younger, less experienced ones mainly. Of experienced women, he nearly had his pick. Jane Elliot was not experienced, at least not dis-cernibly. Jane Elliot was also not afraid of him; that much was more than obvious.

  “Do you think so?” Edenham asked softly, casting a gaze at Calbourne. “I think Miss Elliot would be very much surprised by that turn of events. She doesn’t appear to hold me in high regard.”

  “True,” Calbourne agreed with entirely too much enthusiasm. “Still, I’ve seen what Sophia can do. It’s chilling.

  Are you certain she’s not tangled up with Miss Elliot somehow?”

  “Completely,” Edenham said briskly. He could speak with complete authority on that subject, after all.

  “What is it that set her off? Miss Elliot, I mean?”

  “Something to do with Lady Paignton, I should think,”

  Edenham said.

  He had been brusque with Bernadette, not undeservedly, yet Miss Elliot had reacted violently. Perhaps something to do with her American upbringing? And there had been that odd remark she’d made about him behaving very much like a duke, which had sounded fully like an insult when it was no such thing, and worse, which did lend a great deal of weight to Sophia’s opinion of the situation.

  This might be more difficult than he had initially thought. Americans did have that habit, didn’t they, of being unaccountably difficult. Pity he had fallen in love with her at first sight. She did seem a rare bit of trouble, even for a woman. Still, he was decided. He was going to marry her.

  How to get her to agree to it became the question.

  “She’ll feel a proper fool when she learns the true situation there,” Calbourne said, looking blasted pleased about Jane, the future Duchess of Edenham, looking a fool, proper or otherwise. “I wonder if I should tell her?

  Of course, as Lady Paignton is at her side, that might prove awkward.”

  “I should think so,” Edenham said. It was quite obvious where this was going. One needed only to wait for all the appropriate words to have been uttered and then each of them could get on about their business. The business in this situation being women, clearly.

  “Perhaps the thing to do is for me to somehow remove Lady Paignton from her side, then you may explain, in however much detail you choose, the particulars to Miss Elliot. That should take care of that, don’t you think?”

  “And all for me?” Edenham deadpanned.

  Calbourne grinned. “Not at all, Edenham. One for you, and one for me.”

  Strangely, Lady Paignton did not seem at all grateful at having been rescued from the Duke of Edenham’s arrogant cruelty. These English were a strange race. Jane had very nearly dragged her away from him, which defied logic, didn’t it? Certainly no woman should endure being spoken to in those terms and in that particular tone. Perhaps she was simply too stupid to know any better.

  Jane looked at her, taking in the lustrous hair and exotic green eyes. The heavy bosom. The fat circlet of rubies around her throat, which wasn’t in the peak of taste for a wedding breakfast, was it? More theater than wedding, at least by New York standards, and as New York standards had served thousands of people quite adequately so far, she saw no reason to adjust her perspective. Particularly with Edenham’s cold words still ringing in her ears, and with Lady Paignton’s sultry and nearly sullen expression staring her down.

  Some people simply refused to be helped.

  Jane did what any charitable woman would do; she helped anyway.

  Lady Paignton did brighten when they joined Jed and Joel, who were talking with Cranleigh and Amelia. Upon the conclusion of the introductions, indeed, during them, Jed and Joel brightened considerably themselves.

  Lady Paignton seemed to thrive on the response. But who wouldn’t?

  “We were just discussing the situation along the Barbary Coast, Lady Paignton,” Cranleigh said. “American ships suffer greatly there.”

  “Have you suffered, Captain Elliot?” Lady Paignton asked Jed, her green eyes smoldering with an emotion that was not compassion.

  Jed was a stern sort of man, which was hardly surprising as he’d been a solemn sort of child. Dutiful, serious, observant, contemplative: all in all, a rather perfect son and older brother. He’d never bullied, rarely lost his temper, and, in fact, rarely put a foot wrong. He was not going to do so now, with Lady Paignton, no matter how rampant her seductive allure. Jane had no doubt of that whatsoever.

  “When one American crew suffers, we all suffer,” Jed replied, his blue eyes slightly glacial as he stared down at her. The American situation in the Barbary states was not something Jed was prepared to be teased about. Whatever chance of a flirtation with Jed that Lady Paignton might have had, she had just lost it.

  Lady Paignton seemed just a bit startled by his response, or perhaps his lack of one. What sort of woman needed to seduce every man she met? The poor woman must have some wound she was desperate to hide. That, or she was simply a tart with the moral fiber of a cat.

  “Every nation requires a navy,” Cranleigh said, ignoring Lady Paignton almost completely. It was obvious that Amelia expected nothing less of him. Good man. “You have yet to manage one.”

  “A navy requires money, Cranleigh,” Jed said. “America has very little of that.”

  “And without open shipping lanes, we’ll never acquire any,” Joel said.

  Joel was a completely different sort of brother. He was and always had been the brother she laughed with, played with, shared secrets with. But when she was in trouble, when she was confused and needed guidance, she poured out her heart to Jed.

  She was very blessed in her brothers, and when the occasion arose, she even confided that to them. Being who they were, they never even teased her about being overly sentimental.

  “I can’t imagine how a country may be run without a navy,” Amelia remarked.

  “For good reason, Lady Amelia,” Jed said.

>   “But however did you win your war against us without a navy?” Lady Paignton asked, which was not very dip-lomatic of her at all. Jane was certain Lady Paignton was known for other things entirely.

  “With some difficulty, by all reports,” Jane said, hoping to end the conversation. Talking of wars, and of being such recent enemies, could not possibly be a good topic of conversation. “Lady Amelia, is it true that you should like to visit New York, or is that simply a malicious rumor started by my brother?”

  Amelia smiled and said, “It is most assuredly true.

  I should very much like to see New York.”

  “And Paris,” Cranleigh said, his light blue eyes glinting with humor. “And Alexandria, and Athens, and Cadiz, and Nantucket. My wife, you see, wishes to see the world.”

  “And having married into a family with a shipping connection,” Amelia said on the heels of Cranleigh’s remark,

  “I see no reason why my wishes should not be indulged.”

  “Perhaps because of the very many wars going on?”

  Lady Paignton asked.

  “As there is no war now, I think we must jump whilst we can,” Amelia said, her blue eyes slightly cool as she faced Lady Paignton.

  It was becoming perfectly clear to Jane that Lady Paignton had some sort of reputation that was not truly to her credit. Perhaps the Duke of Edenham might have had some small reason for his rebuke of her. Still, he had been entirely too sharp, no matter the offense. Dukes, she did not suppose, were noted for displaying restraint. Why should they bother?

  “Lady Amelia is possessed of a great supply of daring, as you can plainly see,” Cranleigh said, his pride in her evident.

  Having met Cranleigh when he came to New York years ago, Jane would not have thought it in him to put even an emotion such as pride on display. Amelia had worked some great change in him, or else Jane had been wrong about Cranleigh from the start. No, that was hardly likely. She was hardly ever wrong; in fact, she couldn’t remember a time when she had been wrong, but one did like to err on the side of caution and humility.

  “It certainly is plain to see,” Lady Paignton said slowly, her eyes glittering speculatively. “Any woman who would compile a list and interview potential husbands is most assuredly daring. Though, I did think that Sophia Dalby was the inspiration behind that bold plan. Was I wrong?”

  A list of husbands? Jane hadn’t heard a word about that.

  It was impossible not to be intrigued by the notion. Once one got over the shock, it seemed quite a logical way of going about it, and clearly bore such rich fruit. Amelia had got Cranleigh, hadn’t she? And, knowing Cranleigh, that had not been a simple task.

  Jane looked at Amelia with new eyes. Blond, blue-eyed, and very pretty, the daughter of the Duke of Aldreth, whom Jane had met but briefly, Amelia had looked and certainly behaved with soft-spoken civility. In no fashion did she look or behave like a woman who would compile a list and interview men as possible husbands.

  Just what sort of questions would comprise that type of interview anyway?

  That Sophia Dalby was intimately involved in the venture was the least shocking aspect of it. It sounded just like her. Perhaps Lady Paignton was involved in some intrigue with Sophia? That might explain her odd behavior tonight.

  Certainly some explanation must be found to explain it.

  “Lady Dalby,” Amelia said, laying a hand on Cranleigh’s arm, calming him, one assumed, “has quite a remarkable way of arranging things, especially for her friends.”

  Given the way Amelia delivered the statement, Jane was left to conclude that Lady Paignton was no friend of Sophia’s. Which, of course, resulted in her wondering why.

  She was not so naïve as to believe that all the lords and ladies of the realm were intimates and confidantes; there were two opposing political parties in England, sometimes violently opposing. America was just the same, perhaps a legacy of her nation’s time as a colony, and certainly the two sides did not often mingle socially, at least not unless there was something to be gained. She didn’t suppose that changed no matter which continent one lived upon.

  “She certainly does,” Lady Paignton said, turning her gaze upon Jane. Jane stiffened slightly in preparation for an assault of the social sort. “And are you a friend of Lady Dalby’s, Miss Elliot? I do think you must be.”

  “Must I be? Why?” Jane said, lifting her chin.

  “Why, because of the Duke of Edenham, certainly,”

  Lady Paignton said, smiling. “He gives every appearance of having been influenced by her, wouldn’t you say?”

  “Not knowing the duke, I would not say,” Jane said firmly. Joel smiled and ducked his head, his lips compressed. Jed simply stared at Lady Paignton, his look not at all friendly.

  “Well, I know the duke,” said a very tall man, joining them, inserting himself between Jane and Lady Paignton.

  Jane did not at all enjoy having an obstacle between herself and her opponent, for that is what Lady Paignton certainly was. Why, she could not have guessed, but whys hardly mattered in a fight. “I can say without hesitation that there is no conspiracy between Edenham and Sophia. What nonsense. What could Sophia arrange that Edenham could not quite simply arrange for himself?”

  The men would not meet her gaze. The women stared at her pointedly, especially Amelia. Jane found it all very confusing, all except the bit about Lady Paignton attacking her. There was nothing confusing about that. If she didn’t find Edenham so irritating, she’d regret helping Lady Paignton at all. Which did make it seem as if she’d snapped at Edenham for his own sake and had not been trying to help Lady Rampant at all, which was something she was not prepared to consider. Though there might have been some truth to it. Some.

  “May I present the Duke of Calbourne?” Cranleigh said with a very peculiar smile upon his face.

  Jane was becoming more aware by the minute that there were very many currents running through this throng and that she was in danger of being swept along with them to smash against a hidden shoal if she weren’t careful. It was to her credit that she was always careful, or at least when it was convenient. As she was being introduced to another duke, she was fairly confident that it wasn’t currently convenient. How many dukes did England boast? She had been under the impression that they were somewhat rare.

  As rare as pigeons, by her reckoning.

  The introductions were made, Lady Paignton reacted predictably, Calbourne reacted to her reaction predictably, and Jane was suddenly certain that this was going to be the longest day of her life. Did the English aristocracy do nothing but eat rich food, drink costly wine, and practice seduction upon each other?

  Of course they did. They made war upon the world. A respite from their bedroom battles, certainly. One did enjoy some variety in life, after all.

  Jane could not repress the sardonic smile that tugged at her mouth as a result of her thoughts. Indeed, why should she? If they could spend their lives upon one seduction after another, could she not spend a few hours mocking them? Not at all what her mother had hoped for this visit, but there was nothing Jane could do about that. She saw what she saw. She was not going to lie to herself about it.

  No, nor to her mother either. She could hardly wait to tell her, in fact.

  “You are amused, Miss Elliot?” Calbourne asked her, his own grin pleasant enough. Calbourne was a very attractive man. He was quite tall, which was the first and firmest impression of him, but he had pleasant features which were nicely arranged, dark brown hair cut short, and hazel eyes.

  “I am merely entertained, your grace,” she answered with a mild smile. “I think that must be the point of such an affair as this, to entertain one’s guests, to enjoy the companionship of one’s equals, and are we not all equal in the eyes of God? Or is that strictly an American concept? Perhaps the English are of the belief that they have no equals?”

  Cranleigh stared at her perhaps more seriously than he had yet done, his ice blu
e eyes glacially still. Jed’s expression also altered, his gray blue eyes warning her, but warning her of what? Caution pulled at her hem, but she was tired of caution. She was tired of being on her best, most guarded behavior while those surrounding her reveled in their misbehavior, their arrogance, their silent scream of superiority.

  “I had never before considered that celebrations could be divided along the lines of nation and race, Miss Elliot,”

  Calbourne replied, looking not the least bit offended. He did give every appearance of being good-natured, but of course, she’d only just met him. “Have you noted differences between the English and the American? Could you list them?”

  “Ah, and yet another list,” Lady Paignton murmured, looking at Jane, her exotic eyes stripped of all seduction for once. “Beware of list-making, Miss Elliot. Such a practice can lead you into places and situations which are not at all entertaining.”

  “I’ve never found the making of lists to be entertaining in the slightest degree,” Amelia said, smiling gently at Jane. “As I have become somewhat infamous for my one attempt at lists, I must encourage you to resist the questionable temptation of compiling one. Tedious business, I assure you.”

  “As I was on your list, Lady Amelia,” Calbourne said lightly, breaking the tension fully, “I can attest that being on a list can be a tedious business as well. The competition nearly broke me.”

  “And being off the list nearly broke me,” Cranleigh said, smiling fractionally at Calbourne, but casting one more speculative glance at Jane while he did so.

  “A man who can sail around the Horn and not be broken by it, broken by a list?” Joel said. “That’s quite a list.”

  “Dangerous things, lists,” Amelia said lightly, looking again at Jane.

  “I am convinced,” Jane said. “No lists. I must admit that I never before felt any urge at all to make one, yet with all these warnings, I find I am intrigued. I should not have thought there could be so much danger, so much power in such a simple thing as a list. Yet I shall not make one for the very simple reason that I can think of nothing to list.”