A Deal with a Duke (The Daring Drake Sisters, #2) Page 13

  “It will be different when we are married,” she replied confidently. “Now, what are you going to wear to Lady Leicester’s ball?”

  “My ivory silk.”

  “No, you are not.” Emma pressed her lips together and widened her eyes as if she had a big secret that she was unable to contain.

  “What do you mean?”

  “Tomorrow, you and I will go to Madame Beaulieu's shop for a fitting on your new sapphire silk gown.”

  Louisa shook her head. As much as she might have wanted a new gown for the ball, there was not enough time to make up something now. “It’s far too late, Emma.”

  “Not when she has been working on the gown for over a week.”

  Louisa stared over at her sister. “How?”

  “I might have told Madame that you were too ill with a cold to come yourself, but you wanted the blue silk. Since she already had your measurements, she worked her magic and created the most beautiful gown I have ever seen. I am sincerely envious.”

  “Why would you do such a thing?”

  “Because you will be the next Duchess of Worthington. And as such, you must dress like a duchess. Since you don’t care about fashion, it will be my duty to make certain you are dressed accordingly.”

  She was amazed by her scheming little sister. Louisa hadn’t noticed how much she’d grown up in the past few years. While still slightly immature, Emma might be far more interesting than Louisa ever imagined.

  LOUISA STOOD IN FRONT of the mirror at Madame Beaulieu's shop as the madam herself with two assistants made a few minor adjustments. Frequently, Madame Beaulieu oversaw the pattern and fabric choice but left the fittings to her assistants. Regardless of how many women were attending her, Louisa couldn’t take her eyes off the gorgeous blue silk gown. The gown had a typical high-waist with a laced V front satin panel and short cap sleeves. But it was the dark blue lace puff hem that Louisa fell in love with at first sight.

  “Since you’ve barely said two words, I can only assume you like the gown,” Emma said with a proud smile.

  “It is the most beautiful gown I have ever worn.” Louisa glanced over at her sister. “But how will Mamma pay for such a luxury?”

  “Do not worry about that,” Tessa said as she walked into the dressing room. “Oh my, it is more beautiful than you told me.”

  Louisa looked at them both. “You knew about this too?”

  “Who do you think is paying for that gown?” Tessa sat down and smiled over at her.

  “Thank you, Tessa. But it’s too—”

  “Too grand to wear to Lady Leicester’s ball? I don’t think so. Lady Leicester, won’t you come in and give us your opinion?”

  “What is Lady Leicester doing here?” Louisa whispered.

  “She is shopping with her grandson’s wife.” The older woman strolled through the curtain using her cane although Louisa suspected the countess had no real need for assistance walking.

  Louisa felt as if she’d been ambushed in the dressing room of Madame Beaulieu's shop. She prayed Tessa had not told Lady Leicester about her plan to pursue Harry. The fewer people who knew, the better.

  “And dear, you really must learn how to whisper, so others don’t hear you,” Lady Leicester added.

  Louisa rolled her eyes. “Yes, Countess.”

  “Don’t get petulant with me. I am here to help. Without my assistance, your sister would never have married my grandson.” The older woman nodded at Emma, who jumped out of the chair for her. “Now, have a turn toward me.”

  This was worse than shopping with her mother. “Yes, ma’am.”

  She made a quarter turn toward the dowager countess. “What do you think?”

  The countess rubbed her chin in contemplation. “The color is perfect for you, but if you are to catch a duke—”

  So much for her pursuit of Harry being kept secret.

  “—that neckline must be lowered.”

  What did the countess just say? A lower neckline? “This is perfectly low enough.”

  “Nonsense. Madame Beaulieu, if a lady of a lower standing wishes to win the affection of a duke, would you recommend that neckline?”

  The dressmaker rose and looked at Louisa thoroughly. “A duke, eh?”

  “Yes,” the Countess replied.

  “Do you remember what you did for the Duchess of Danvers when she was still Miss Eliza Smith, a nobody from that little village...what was it called?”

  The dressmaker grinned. “Ah yes, from Laceby. And I do indeed remember you suggested something to make the duke realize what he would miss if he let her go. Unfortunately, we don’t have as much material to work with here.”

  Both Lady Leicester and the dressmaker stared at Louisa’s bosom. Heat scorched her cheeks. She couldn’t help it if she had less there than her sisters, especially Emma.

  “Still, I believe a lower neckline might help,” the countess commented. “And perhaps a little padding the stays.”

  Louisa’s face heated with embarrassment. If only a hole could open in the earth and suck her down.

  “Yes, do that so Worthington sees he might not be the only man interested in Miss Drake.” The countess stood and stared at Louisa. “Do not think this will be easy, my dear. A duke is never easy to catch.”

  “Yes, ma’am.” She had no idea what else to say.

  “Very well, I shall take my leave. Tessa, do not forget to come for supper tomorrow. We need to discuss nurses for my great-grandchild.”

  “As you wish, my lady,” Tessa replied, quickly taking the empty chair.

  Louisa turned back toward the mirror as Madame Beaulieu attacked the trim of her neckline. “I thought the gown was perfect,” Louisa muttered.

  “It will be,” the dressmaker replied. “I had no idea I was dressing a future duchess.”

  That was left to be seen. Louisa looked over at Tessa. “How could you have told her?”

  Tessa laughed. “I didn’t. His Grace mentioned at her dinner party that you and he had been friends for years. She happened to notice the looks he was giving you during dinner and mentioned it to me.”

  Louisa’s mouth went dry. “He was giving me looks?”

  “So she says. But I never know with her. Sometimes I believe she is half-mad.”

  Half-mad? Louisa was convinced the lady was completely mad.

  Chapter 11

  THE NIGHT OF LADY LEICESTER’S party arrived far too quickly for Harry. Dread seeped into his soul as he climbed each step to her front door. He should have already found a bride and retired to the country. As the door opened, the sound of endless chatter filled his ears, deafening him.

  “Welcome, Your Grace,” the butler said as he allowed him inside.

  He nodded. “Good evening.”

  Harry entered the spacious front hall where only a few people lingered as if waiting for someone. He hoped not him. Many nodded at him with a slight smile, but a few ignored his presence. Lady Leicester ambled toward him with a smug grin on her face.

  “Good to see you, boy,” she said as she took his arm to lead him into the salon. Only Lady Leicester would call a duke, boy.

  “Thank you for the invitation, Countess.”

  He let her guide him into the salon and then stopped. Harry scanned the room for a familiar face. Spotting Louisa, his heart lightened. She looked beautiful tonight with a sapphire silk gown devoid of all the bows typical on most of her unmarried peers. She wore only a small pearl necklace and matching earbobs to complete the simple ensemble. But it was the neckline of the gown that took his breath away. He’d never seen her wear something so daring.

  “Are you looking for someone special, Your Grace?” Lady Leicester asked innocently.

  “Just a familiar face.”

  He stared down at her to see a twinkle of humor in her brown eyes.

  “I do expect you on the dance floor for the first dance,” she said. “After all, the party is in your honor.”

  Looking over at Louisa, he nodded. “Certainly.�
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  “Do try to enjoy yourself tonight, Worthington.”

  “Thank you.” Harry walked toward Louisa who was speaking to a lady he didn’t know. “Good evening, ladies.”

  Both ladies curtsied to him. “Your Grace,” Louisa said with a smile. “Miss Bigby, may I introduce His Grace, the Duke of Worthington.”

  “Miss Bigby, it is a pleasure.” Harry bowed over the hand of the very young Miss Bigby. Did Louisa have no sense at all? Miss Bigby couldn’t be more than eighteen.

  “I was just telling her all about you, Your Grace,” Louisa said with a mischievous smile.

  “Were you now?” He turned to Miss Bigby. “All lies, I am quite certain.”

  The younger woman giggled and blushed.

  He looked back at Louisa with a cocked brow. “I have been told by Lady Leicester that I must dance the first dance.”

  “Excellent,” Louisa replied with a broad smile. “Miss Bigby would love to dance with you.”

  “I would,” she said breathlessly.

  Harry narrowed his eyes on Louisa. Dancing with Miss Bigby was not the plan when he walked over here. Dancing with Louisa was about the only way to speak with her properly. And he was positive Louisa knew that. “I would be delighted.”

  “Your Grace, is that not Lord Collingwood over there?” Louisa asked glancing at the man who just entered the room.

  “I believe it is. After my dance with Miss Bigby, I shall endeavor to speak with him.” Letting Collingwood or any man in the room dance with Louisa left him feeling irritated.

  “Thank you, Your Grace.”

  “Miss Bigby, shall we?” he asked, holding out his arm to her. “The music is set to begin.”

  “Of course, Your Grace,” she answered with a slight giggle.

  He led her to the dance floor, mentally cursing Louisa for getting the upper hand. Miss Bigby’s constant giggling was already driving him mad. As the dance started, he searched for Louisa to see if she had partnered with someone for the dance. Instead, he found her standing against a wall sipping her wine, staring at him with a self-satisfied smile. Thankfully, the dance was fast-paced, so he didn’t have to attempt conversation with his giggling partner.

  Once the set finished, he searched for the only woman he wished to speak with tonight. Only this time, Emma had her sister’s attention. He grabbed a glass of wine and watched Louisa from afar.

  “Well, at least you have excellent taste in women.”

  Harry turned at the sound of his brother. “I didn’t expect to see you here tonight.”

  “Since our father’s death, I am now a somewhat respectable bastard. It’s interesting how inheriting a large sum of money from a duke will do that for you.”

  “Well, congratulations on gaining some respectability.”

  Simon laughed. “Now, back to those two ladies you were eyeing. I suppose, as the bastard, I must take your cast-off, so which one do you prefer?”

  Harry frowned. “Hold your tongue. They are both ladies. Miss Louisa Drake to the left, is a dear friend of mine.”

  “A friend, is it?” Simon smirked. “I don’t believe I have ever had a lady friend, except in the bedroom where they all are my friends. And what about the angelic-looking one?”

  “Miss Emma is engaged to Lord Bolton.”

  “She looks a little too innocent for my liking. The brunette has a passion in her manner that is hard to resist.”

  “Simon,” Harry growled. “Do not think about it.”

  “I see how it is,” Simon replied with a smirk. “I suppose I shall have to settle for a lonely widow tonight.”

  “Good luck.”

  Simon chuckled. “I don’t need luck, brother. I had a fortune from my gaming hell before Father bestowed even more upon his ‘poor’ bastard.”

  Spying Collingwood, Harry said, “I must go speak with someone.”

  Harry left his brother and focused on Lord Collingwood. “Collingwood, might I have a word?”

  Collingwood turned and nodded. “Of course. What do you need, Your Grace?”

  “If you remember you met Miss Drake at the park a few weeks ago. It would be a favor to me if you would dance with her. She gets so few opportunities.”

  “I would be honored to dance with any friend of yours.” Collingwood scanned the room.

  They walked over to where Emma and Louisa stood. Louisa smiled at Harry and then Collingwood. “Your Grace, my lord,” she said with a curtsy.

  “Miss Drake,” Collingwood said with a bow. “It is a pleasure to see you again.”

  “Emma, this is Lord Collingwood.”

  “A pleasure, my lord.” Emma made her curtsy and then excused herself.

  “Would you honor me with a dance, Miss Drake?” Collingwood asked politely.

  “Yes, that would be lovely.”

  While they went off to dance, Harry picked up a snifter of brandy and gulped it down. What the devil was wrong with him tonight? The idea of that man laying a hand on her, even with gloves on, touched a nerve with Harry. He stifled the urge to go over and cut in on Collingwood. That would never do. Louisa would be furious...with good reason.

  Except, seeing her with Collingwood might drive him insane.

  LOUISA ENJOYED HER dance with Collingwood, who conversed with her about his family and his sister’s new child. He was a handsome man with his blond hair and brown eyes, but she felt as if she were dancing with a brother. She supposed if she must settle, then Collingwood would be an acceptable choice. Her mother would be pleased that he was a viscount as that was the most important thing to her. But Louisa didn’t wish to settle now that she had spent time with Harry again.

  “I do hope you will honor me with one more dance before the night is through?”

  She smiled at him. “Of course.”

  He left her with her mother, who beamed. “A viscount, Louisa! Very good.”

  “A very nice man, Mamma.”

  “The only thing that matters is that he has a title and enough income. Now catch this one.”

  Louisa shook her head as she walked away from her mother and spied the terrace. A few minutes alone would do her good to think. She slipped outside, hoping no one noticed her. Staring out at the gardens, she wondered what her life would be like in a year. Would she finally be married and perhaps with a child on the way? Or firmly on the shelf? At twenty-five, this was quite probably her last chance.

  If things didn’t work with Harry, Collingwood might be an acceptable solution. Everything she’d heard about the man was kind. The son of a viscount, his mother lived with him when she wasn’t visiting her daughter’s family. He should have enough income to satisfy her mother, although she honestly didn’t know. So why did she feel so empty inside?

  She felt a presence before the man spoke. Please don’t let it be Harry. She needed space from him if she were to contemplate Collingwood. The light breeze carried the scent of leather and cinnamon, and she knew it was Harry. Her pulse quickened, and her breath seemed to steal away from her.

  She could always sense when he was near.

  He stood directly behind her now and then brought a glass of wine around her. She stared down at the gloved hand, which held the glass and said, “Thank you, Your Grace.”

  His low chuckle tightened her belly. “We are alone. I believe so you may call me Harry.”

  He moved away, and she felt an instant chill. After her sipping her wine, she said, “We shouldn’t be out here alone, Harry.”

  “It is far from the first time we’ve been on this terrace alone. Besides, I want to hear about your dance with Collingwood.” He casually leaned against the balustrade and then looked at her. “Was it enjoyable?”

  “Yes, he is a very nice man. And your dance with Miss Bigby?”

  “She did nothing but giggle most of the time.” He sipped his wine. “It occurred to me while dancing with Miss Bigby that you and I have never danced. How is that possible?”

  Louisa frowned in thought. He was right. In seven year
s, they had never danced together. “I suppose we were usually outside conversing.”

  “Miss Drake, you should not be out here alone with the Duke!”

  Louisa turned at the sound of Jane Bigby’s high-pitched voice. “Good evening again, Miss Bigby. I suppose you are right that the we shouldn’t be here alone. But we are dear friends, and it is one of the few times we can speak with each other. We are in view of the windows, so there is nothing scandalous.”

  “Friends?” Jane gaped as if the concept of talking with a man other than for a marriage proposal was mad. “What do you speak to each other of?”

  “Various topics from his estates to the politics of the day,” Louisa responded while Harry rolled his eyes at her.

  “But Miss Drake, you should not let a man be friends with you,” Jane said seriously.

  “Why ever not?”

  “He will think you are...fast,” she whispered with a glance back at Harry.

  “On the contrary, Miss Bigby,” Harry responded. “Conversing with Miss Drake makes me believe she doesn’t need to use her beauty and wiles to capture a man when she has such an intelligent mind to entice him.”

  Miss Bigby’s lips puckered in disdain. “But Mother says men don’t like women who speak their mind or are more intelligent than they are.”

  “On the contrary, an outspoken, witty lady is very...intriguing,” Harry said, staring at Louisa with a small smile. “But we must all go in now for Miss Drake has agreed to a dance.”

  “I do hope there might be one more dance in my future, Your Grace,” Miss Bigby said with a flirtatious smile as her eyelashes fluttered at Harry.

  Louisa felt her frustration rising. Why couldn’t she act as coquettish as the younger lady?

  “Ahh, but we would not wish to cause gossip, Miss Bigby. Good evening.” Harry held out his arm for Louisa.

  She accepted his arm with a smile. “You were rather rude to her, you know.”

  “I doubt she even noticed.” He glanced down at her with one brow cocked. “You thought that young lady would be acceptable?”

  “I am running out of choices, Harry,” she whispered as they entered the ballroom. “You are extremely fastidious.”