Duchess by Mistake (6 page)

"My Harry always said Captain Upton was the finest officer in the Peninsula," Mrs. Hudson said, referring to Elizabeth's brother. "I should like to write to him and thank him for his concern for me and my Louisa."

"I will be happy to post it for you. My brother is always happy to receive letters. I know he will want to know how you're doing since he thought so highly of your husband."

The young window's eyes moistened. "There was never a finer man than my Harry."

After depositing Mrs. Hudson and her little Louisa to Number 7 Trent Square, he explained he would send a servant to fill the pantry, then he settled back in his luxurious carriage, eying Elizabeth. Elizabeth remained on his side of the carriage. He couldn't have been happier with any woman than he was with Lady Elizabeth. Her genuine goodness was more than he'd ever hoped to find in a wife.

He meant to make her his duchess.

Even if it meant going to Almack's. He shuddered.

* * *

Haverstock rarely put his foot down with Elizabeth, but this night he had insisted that she accompany him and Anna to Almack's Assembly Rooms. "Even Lydia will be there," he had said.

"Pray, I know how much she dislikes dancing," Elizabeth said. "Why is she going?"

"It's something to do with Morgie's cousin being in town."

Elizabeth could not refuse her brother's request. She had previously told Anna that since she had no intentions of seeking a husband at Almack's, she had no desire to go there.  Nothing that ever occurred at Almack's could give her half so much pleasure as she'd gotten that afternoon when she'd shown Mrs. Hudson her new home.

Even though she meant to avoid Society, Elizabeth quite vainly was excited to have the opportunity to wear the new ivory gown she'd gotten a few weeks earlier. It was the prettiest she'd ever owned, and she knew Anna had not flattered when she'd told Elizabeth that no dress had ever looked lovelier on her.

Anna even insisted that Elizabeth borrow her diamonds to wear with it. As she stood before her looking glass, she could not have been happier with her appearance. She had not felt so lovely even the night of her presentation ball.

But as lovely as she knew she looked, when she entered the ballroom of Almack's, she felt as if a second nose protruded from her face. Matrons stopped in mid-sentence and turned to stare at her. The drone of voices lifted, and she heard words which humiliated her.
Naked. Aldridge. Scandalous.

Her eyes watered. Her misguided visit to Aldridge House earlier in the week had apparently been widely publicized. She had not only brought shame upon herself, she had shamed her brother. And he did not deserve it. Especially with his important post at the Foreign Office.

Her face prickling from embarrassment, she followed Anna and Haverstock, and sat in a section reserved for peers.

When the first set started, she experienced something that had not occurred a single time in the three years since she'd come out: not a single man asked her to stand up with him.

She had never been so mortified.

As she sat there trying to make small talk with Anna but speaking nonsensically, she was aware that others continued to stare at her. When the set ended, she hoped someone would rescue her from complete humiliation the next set. But when it started, no one crossed the ballroom to seek her for a partner.

Thank God her brother had gone to the card room. His humiliation would have been more painful than her own. "Oh, Anna, I've disgraced our whole family."

"You've hurt no one except yourself."

Elizabeth gave a bitter laugh. "It's a good thing I've chosen not to wed. I daresay no one would have me."

Anna's large eyes, the colour of mahogany, regarded her. "That's not so. The Duke of Aldridge wishes to make you his duchess."

As if conjured by her words, the Duke of Aldridge entered the ballroom at that very moment. All conversation ceased. All eyes riveted to the tall, handsome man who was moving toward Elizabeth. He towered over the other men and was impeccably turned out with his stylishly cut dark hair and his well-fitted jet black coat and dove breeches. She held her breath, praying he would honor her with a dance invitation. Her bruised pride needed it.

When he bowed in front of her and begged her to stand up with him, the drone of voices renewed.

She hated to admit her vanity, but she was ever so happy to set her hand into his and allow him to sweep her off her feet. Her satisfaction with him was in proportion to the depth of her humiliation. For the second time that day, she felt like throwing her arms around his neck.

The country set did not afford them the opportunity for conversation, but it allowed all the dancers--and onlookers--the opportunity to gape at the sinfully rich, sinfully handsome, purportedly wicked Duke of Aldridge.

When the set was over, he led her from the chamber and procured ratafia for her. Then to her mortification, he said in a clear voice. "Do you think, my love, we should announce our forthcoming nuptials tonight?"

It was all she could do not to sling the liquid into his smug face. She glared at him.

"I suppose that announcement ought to come from your brother."

The last thing she needed was another scene in front of all these people. "But, your grace," she finally managed, "I have not yet consented to become your duchess."

"But, my love, I always get what I want."

She moved closer and spoke in a whisper. "Does your grace want a slap in the face?"

He threw his head back, laughing. "Your sense of humor is so delightful, my darling."

She came close again. "I. Am. Not. Your. Darling."

He drew her hand into his. "Soon, love. Soon."

She lowered her voice to a whisper again. "You know I'm not in love with you, and I know you're not in love with me."

His dark eyes went solemn. "Talk to your brother. I believe he'll tell you that love follows the most reluctant spouses."

Did everyone but her know that Haverstock's and Anna's marriage had not begun as a love match? It would be hard to fathom now. No two people were could be more in love. Except for Morgie and Lydia.

And theirs had been a love match--even if it was a lifetime in coming.

As they stood there, stiffly observing one another, Morgie strolled up. "I say, Aldridge, it's devilishly good to have you back."

"My God, Morgie, but it's good to see you! Felicitations on your marriage. You chose very well."

"Did you know we have a son?"

Aldridge nodded. "It seems more felicitations are in order. I shall have to see this fine son of yours and Lady Lydia's."

Morgie's voice lowered. "Pray, don't tell Lyddie. . ." He shook his head. "He doesn't look . . . like a small lad--a very small lad. He's. . ." Morgie's brows lowered with concern, and the gap he made with hands indicated the babe's size to be a little over a foot. "Looks like me grandfather, he does. Not a hair on his head."

Elizabeth chuckled. "That's common in infants! I assure you," she said to the duke, "my nephew is a perfect little fellow."

Relief washed over Morgie's face. "You really think he's all right? That's what Lyddie keeps saying, but you know how she dotes on him."

"I would think," the duke said, "you can always rely on what Lady Lydia says. She's possessed of uncommon good sense."

The three of them returned to the ballroom. The rest of the night, the duke stayed by her side, and the rest of the night Elizabeth could not purge from her thoughts the knowledge that Lydia had come to love Morgie after years of friendship, that Anna and Haverstock's forced marriage had turned into a great love worthy of a Keats' poem.

As skeptical as she was over forced marriages, she found herself wondering if she
could
grow to love the duke--were she to consent to marrying him.

They danced with each other the last dance--a waltz, and when it ended, he bid her goodnight. "I shall call on you tomorrow."

She was so lost in her thoughts on the way home from Almack's that she never heard her brother addressing her. Then later, after she shed her lovely gown, donned her night shift, and climbed upon her bed, her thoughts returned to the Duke of Aldridge. She found herself enumerating all the reasons why she should marry him.

1. She would be able to use his money for her charitable works.

2. She could redeem her tarnished reputation.

3. She could make her brother happy, not only by achieving number 2, but also by uniting their family with that of his oldest friend.

4. And she would be an idiot to turn down so spectacular a match.

5. The fierce attraction she had once held for him could return.

And last, she kept thinking about how truly and deeply her brother, Anna, Morgie, and Lydia were loved. Could she ever be so blessed?

She was unable to sleep. He was going to call on her the next day. She knew he would once more ask for her hand. She sensed this would be her last chance to accept his kind offer.

Could she? Would she?

Throughout the night Elizabeth was possessed by a strong desire to see Captain Smythe. If only she could gaze upon a miniature of him. Perhaps that would help make up her mind. Could she risk marrying another and lose all hope of ever being loved by him?

She thought perhaps she no longer loved him, but how could that be? She had once loved him so potently she'd thought she would perish of melancholy when he sailed away. Even months after he left, the joy seemed to have been stripped from her life. Many a night she had lain in her dark room weeping for the handsome officer who had pretended to love her.

Why could she not feel toward the Duke of Aldridge as she had felt toward the Captain? That would have made her decision so easy.

Why could the duke not have come back two years ago? Then, his attentions would have made her the belle of London. Then, she would easily have rekindled her former adoration of him. Then, she would not have lost her heart to Captain Smythe.

Everything happens for a reason
. That's what her aunt, the Duchess of Steffington, always said over her own sad life. Had it been preordained that Elizabeth would disgrace herself at Aldridge House? That one imprudent act of hers could significantly affect the rest of her life.

And that of the Duke of Aldridge.

Was that one imprudent act to be a curse? Or would she one day look upon it as a Godsend? If only she knew. If only a gypsy's crystal ball could truly allow her to glimpse into the future.

One night of Almack's ostracism had changed everything. The previous morning she would not have considered the duke's proposal. But now she knew she could neither subject herself nor her family to such scandal. Even if she were resolved to stay away from Society and direct her life at doing good works, she was incapable of inflicting such shame on her family--especially upon Haverstock, whose career could be significantly hindered by her disgrace. He did so thrive in his important government position.

As murky dawn settled into another cold, gray spring day, she made her decision.

* * *

At least it was no longer misting that afternoon when Aldridge and Elizabeth drove through Hyde Park in his open barouche. He told himself this was his chance--as last night too had been--to repair Lady Elizabeth's reputation in the eyes of the
ton
. It was beastly how so innocent an act could be twisted and carried throughout the Capital like polluted autumn leaves on the briskest day. His lips folded into a grim line. His servants! Unfortunately they were given to gossip, and there did not seem to be anything he could do to prevent it.

It was beastly too that all would be forgotten were a duke to offer for the lady in question. No one dared speak ill of a duchess--and most especially a duchess who was the daughter of and sister to a marquess. Were she to become Aldridge's wife, her attendance at balls and soirees would be in fervent demand, no matter what wicked things she'd been accused of before her marriage.

He owed it to her and to her brother to beg for her hand one last time. If she refused him this afternoon, he would acquit himself of any further responsibility toward her.

It would pain him that her good name was being tarnished merely because she'd gone to his home to beg assistance for the less fortunate. He rather wished he could ring out the bells of Westminster and proclaim her innocence to all of London.

What in the blazes would he do if she refused him this afternoon? Though he knew he should settle down, there was not another woman who would fit into his life as neatly as she.

If she turned him down, he would likely continue on in his rakish pursuits. There were the races at Newmarket, faro at Brooks, and he might even pluck a comely dancer away from the opera to keep his bed warm at night.

But after seeing how content Haverstock and Morgie were in matrimony, those rakish pursuits held no allure for Aldridge. Over the past few days, he'd come to relish the notion of sharing his life with a woman whom he would value. A good woman like Lady Elizabeth Upton.

He never deluded himself that he loved her, but he thought in time, he might. Especially if she proved to be sensible as was her eldest sister.

He had enjoyed seeing Lydia briefly at Almack's the previous night. She always amused. Though she did not mention anything so indelicate, Morgie had lowered his voice to explain to Aldridge why his wife could stay at Almack's only for half an hour: "Refuses to have a wet nurse, and upon my word, the lad's a greedy little bugger! Poor Lyddie!"  Morgie had shaken his head in dismay. "Don't know where all that milk goes. He's hardly bigger than me hand."

After Morgie and Lydia Morgan left, Aldridge could not free his mind of the notion of an aristocratic lady like Lydia nursing her own babe. It raised Lydia even higher in his opinion, if that were possible.

Then quite naturally, his thoughts moved on to Lydia's younger sister. Two sisters could not have been more disparate in appearance. Elizabeth was petite, fair, and pretty; Lydia was tall, large of bone, and dark. At thirty, she'd been a confirmed spinster because men had never been able separate her unpleasing appearance from her cleverness and worthiness. Morgie, who was not particularly clever but who had always had an excellent eye for aesthetics,  was the last man in the kingdom Aldridge would have expected to fall in love with Lydia. He wondered exactly how that had come about.