Least Likely to Marry a Duke (Liberated Ladies)

On the other hand, Sedgley had a certain reputation that she could have no idea about. Will was in no position to forbid her to drive with the man—that would either provoke her into rebellion or reveal more about their acquaintance than was healthy, or possibly both. But he needed to keep an eye on her. Intelligent and courageous she might be, but he doubted Verity had the experience to extricate herself from a lecherous buck in one of London’s parks’ quieter corners when she was trapped feet above the ground on a high-perch phaeton.

Will let an expression of faint ennui cross his face and sketched a bow. ‘Miss Wingate. I do trust you have a pleasant stay.’ He turned and strolled away before she had a chance to react, moved behind a gaggle of betoqued dowagers who stopped talking so fast that they must have been deep in speculation about him and side-stepped from there to a bank of potted ferns and lilies which brought him neatly round behind Sedgley’s well-tailored shoulders, just visible through the fronds.

‘Tomorrow is not convenient? Well then, shall we say the day after at two? Not the fashionable hour, but we will find Hyde Park far less crowded. So much more pleasant, do you not agree? Excellent.’

Will moved back into the room. He did not have his phaeton and team in town, and his own riding horses must be rested after their long journey, but he did have friends with saddle horses who would be glad to lend him a mount. And their company.

* * *

Her aunt had lent her a magnificent amber necklace, bracelets and earbobs, her maid had gone out and purchased silk stockings with delicate gold clocking on the ankles and a pair of the finest kid gloves and her own newest gown—an elegantly simple affair in dark brown silk with an amber gauze overskirt—looked even better than she had hoped as a result.

Stepping out of the carriage into the crowd of arrivals at Lady Notting’s house had been an ordeal, one that continued after she had been kindly received and had braved the reception rooms. Aunt Caroline had introduced her to so many people that she soon lost track of names and faces. Her approach was the same for all of them. ‘The poor child has come to me to escape from foolish provincial gossip. Have you heard about her adventures? Of course you have. Really, those half-brothers and -sisters of Aylsham’s, quite out of control by all accounts. But thank heavens dear Verity was with the Duke, otherwise the poor Bishop’s nerves would have been shredded. And Bishop Alderton was there also, with his staff, so that was a great help...’

Aunt Caroline prattled on until they were all dizzy, Verity thought. Dizzy and left with the impression that so much frankness meant that there could be nothing to hide. And that it would be inexcusably provincial to gossip about it.

Verity sensed that to behave as though she had something to be ashamed of would only confirm their suspicions, so she smiled and chatted and, when she found herself in the middle of a group that she suspected might be rather fast, had responded to their sly questions with a lively account of the excitements of rural life.

But what had Will been doing? Sudden urgent business? She could not believe it. Dukes sent minions on urgent business; they did not come hurrying up to London themselves. For a dreadful moment she feared he had come to break bad news about Papa, but a second’s thought told her that he would have spoken to Aunt Caroline first, not walked up to her in the middle of a musicale.

* * *

For the life of her she could not imagine what he was doing there, as she said to her aunt as they drove back after the party. ‘I do wish he had stayed away. Surely it will only make things worse?’

‘It might not. To see the pair of you exhibiting nothing but neighbourly good manners with no hint of awkwardness can only confirm that nothing shocking occurred.’

‘Will has come up to London to keep an eye on me,’ Verity said. ‘I do not believe that he needs to attend to anything personally at all—he simply summons people when he wants them.’

‘Then it is rather charming of him, don’t you think?’ Aunt Caroline’s voice held a hint of teasing. ‘Will is clearly concerned about you.’

‘Nonsense. He is just used to being in charge of everything and cannot let well enough alone. I hope he goes home soon.’

Very soon.

Chapter Sixteen

‘The Duke of Aylsham, my lady.’ The Fairlies’ butler did not, apparently, think it necessary to enquire first if the ladies were At Home to a duke.

Aunt Caroline stood up and went to shake Will’s hand. ‘What a pleasant surprise, Your Grace. I glimpsed you last night, but did not have the opportunity for a conversation. And so pleasant for Verity to have a neighbour from the country here.’

‘I do hope so.’ Will turned those beautiful blue eyes on her, but she could not interpret their expression. It was not disapproval, for once, she decided.

Will sat down at a gesture from Aunt Caroline, taking an armchair at an angle to Verity. ‘I found I could more easily transact some necessary business in person and I wanted to reassure you that your father’s health is good. May I escort you ladies anywhere today?’

‘Thank you, no. There is absolutely no need to delay your own meetings.’ Try as she might, she could not keep the scepticism out of her voice. What was he doing in London? She had told her aunt it was to keep an eye on her, but was he really that concerned about her? Then she realised that perhaps he wanted to face down the gossip on his own account. It did seem sensible, now she thought about it, for them both to be seen to be on amiable, but distant, terms. ‘Aunt and I will be taking her carriage with her dresser and a footman to assist us,’ she added with a smile that, to her surprise, he returned. ‘You would find our shopping a complete bore, I imagine.’

‘Then I hope you can both join me for dinner tomorrow evening? I am at the Grosvenor Square house.’ That was more in his usual style—it sounded like an order, for all the pleasant tone.

‘So kind of you, but I have no idea if we have any commitments,’ Verity said, turning to Caroline.

‘No, we have none.’ There was more warmth in her voice than the acceptance of a dinner invitation merited, Verity thought. Perhaps her aunt had noticed a constraint between the two of them and was compensating. ‘It would be delightful to dine with you, Aylsham.’

‘Fairlie is free to accompany you, I hope? Excellent. It is quite some time since I have had the pleasure of speaking with him.’ Will carried on talking with her aunt about mutual friends, about Lord Fairlie’s charitable interests and how Roderick Fairlie was finding life at Oxford.

Verity assumed a sweet, meaningless smile and sat silently listening, watching Will’s profile. After five minutes he looked across at her. ‘I have very little news from home to convey. As I said, your father is well and sends his love. Mr Hoskins begs to be remembered to you. The children are undergoing their month’s penance with good grace, for the moment. Whether that will last in my absence is not something I would like to wager on. My gamekeepers have been experiencing trouble with poachers which is annoying.’ He smiled without humour. ‘I dislike anyone encroaching on what is mine.’

In other words, he is going to take exception to me even conversing with other men, because he feels obliged to watch over me, she thought resentfully.

Last night she had thought she read a challenge in his attitude to Lord Sedgley and had been surprised—and relieved—when he had left the group without making it more apparent. But she was not his to watch over, simply a neighbour he had become entangled with.