Unmasking the Duke, page 5
“Oh, Vera, you’ll never guess who he is,” Kitty said, suddenly overwhelmed once more.
Vera’s eyes widened. “He’s been back? For you? Goodness, who is he?”
“He’s the Duke of Dearham, who apparently has a shocking reputation.”
“But a delicious one,” Vera interjected, clearly impressed. “Well, if he’s coming here to meet you twice in two days—”
“He isn’t,” Kitty said flatly. “Or at least, not in the way you mean. He’s got it into his head that I’m some sort of lost cousin.”
Vera stopped and stared at her. “Stone the crows!”
“Oh, don’t be too impressed. I’m not. But that’s why he came. Both times.”
A martial light flickered in Vera’s gaze and vanished into a frown. “That doesn’t make sense. What’s he kissing you for if he thinks you’re his long-lost cousin?”
“I’m not.”
“No, but that’s why he came in the first place. Only you caught his attention and stole his heart, and he forgot himself.”
Kitty couldn’t help laughing, although a tiny pain had formed in her chest. “Don’t be ridiculous. Wait until he meets you.”
“Ah, but I’m spoken for.”
“So is he, probably.”
“No. The Society papers keep speculating on his prospective brides, especially since he inherited the dukedom, but he always avoids the marriage traps. Still sowing his wild oats, as they say, so you’d better be careful not to catch any.”
“I have no idea what you’re talking about,” Kitty said with mock dignity.
Vera grinned. “That’s my duchess.”
*
Vera enjoyed a very pleasant day with her friend and a special hour with her swain listening to very refined music and watching less refined jugglers and stilt-walkers before he went back to work. As a result, she was shining with happiness when Luke dropped her in Taverner Street with no more than a kiss to her hand.
She touched his hair, smiling tenderly. “Thank you for today, Luke.”
“Thank me if your father doesn’t forbid me the house and dismiss me for this day’s work!”
She laughed and ran inside, where her mother stood with folded arms.
“Don’t say a word,” Vera commanded. “He was working most of the time, but I got to see him on the ride there and back and for an hour at midday. Even if you lock me in my room, it was worth it.”
“Don’t be dramatic, Vere,” her mother said mildly.
“Besides,” Vera said, dragging her mother upstairs, “I saw Kitty, too, and you’ll never guess what’s been happening with her!”
“She has a suitor?” her mother asked.
“Who has?” Toby demanded from the landing.
“Kitty, though not really. But this duke thinks she’s related to him and has set the cat amongst the pigeons.” For the sake of her brother’s pride, she didn’t add that Kitty rather liked the said duke.
Toby began to laugh derisively as he walked into their own rooms. “Bill Renwick related to a duke? Don’t make me laugh.”
“Not Bill,” Vera informed him. “Just Kitty. She’s not Bill’s niece by blood. She’s adopted. Did you know that, Ma?”
Her mother sighed. “Yes, I did know that.” She shut the door firmly. “What duke?”
“Dearham.”
Toby whistled. “Rich as Croesus, then.”
“Yes, but Bill says it ain’t true.”
“It isn’t,” her mother said mildly. “Does Kitty want it to be true?”
“No. She’s devoted to Bill and the boys.” Though she clearly wished the duke liked her for herself rather than her possible blood line.
Toby threw himself down in the nearest chair, his eyes sparkling beneath his frown of concentration.
After one suspicious glance, Vera said to her mother. “Mr. Renwick suggested we go to one of the public balls in the Gardens. I think he realizes he can’t keep Kitty cooped up forever and knows she’ll be safe with all of us there.”
“Who is all of us?” her mother demanded.
“Well, you and me and Da if he wants. And Toby, I suppose. And Luke.”
Luke, of course, had not been mentioned, but Vera saw no point in missing the opportunity.
Toby, of course, had quite other opportunities in mind. “So, Kitty’s not related to this duke?”
“Not according to her uncle,” Vera said impatiently.
“But the duke still thinks she might be? Old Renwick’s going soft if he can’t see the fortune in that situation.”
“What fortune?” Vera demanded.
“Dearham’s. What’s he looking for his relative for, if not to give her wads of money? Kitty could be a wealthy woman.”
“Bill Renwick will see she is anyway,” their mother intervened.
“Yes, but not by the Duke of Dearham’s standards!”
“Well, since she isn’t related to him,” Vera pointed out, “it doesn’t apply, does it?”
Toby grinned. “Yes, but the beauty is, she don’t need to be related to him. He just needs to believe she is. And I’m sure, between us, we can come up with some kind of proof to keep his Nobleness satisfied.”
Vera stared at him. “Toby, have you ever considered working for your living?”
Her brother flushed. “Don’t nag at me, Vere. It’s your friend I’m trying to help out. And Bill Renwick ain’t so flush as everyone thinks. He was great at bringing in the readies when he was young, or so everyone tells me, and no one can deny he’s got reach and influence in some very scary places. But he’s sunk everything he owns in that money pit at Maida, and everyone knows if this new hotel of his doesn’t save his bacon, he’ll be quite rolled up. And then where will your Kitty be?”
“It’s not as bad as that,” her mother said uneasily. “Your da would know.”
“It was Da who told me. Look, Kitty doesn’t need to know. Neither does Mr. Renwick. We just need to find a way to get at this duke with proof, and then the money starts flowing to Kitty. And Mr. Renwick, and therefore Da and us. And Luke,” he added to Vera as a masterstroke.
Chapter Five
“Dunne,” Johnny greeted his visitor, who strolled into the breakfast parlor the following morning.
Dunne’s eyebrows flew up. “Good God. I thought your man must be new that he sent me in here. What are you doing up at this ungodly hour? What of your thick head?”
“What of yours?” Johnny retorted. He waved one hand at the sideboard. “Help yourself. There’s too much for me.”
Dunne poured himself a cup of coffee and sat down beside him. “Busy day, Your Grace?”
“Early one. My sister Meg’s had twins—again—and I was forced to entertain Harry to breakfast to hear all about them.”
“They’re in London?”
“Yes, with Harry’s brother and sister-in-law. How is Rebecca?”
“Well, and invites you to dinner the day after tomorrow.”
Johnny grinned. “How are the mighty fallen. You came at this hour to deliver a dinner invitation?”
“No, I came at this hour to tell you about a very odd encounter I’ve just had. When I went into the office first thing, some shifty fellow was all but threatening Andrews to let him see me. Turns out he only wanted me to give a message to you.”
“About what?” Johnny asked, only half-amused. Most of his mind was still on his sister Meg and her twins, whom he hadn’t yet seen, and the odd little tug of envy he had felt when Harry dazzled him with his pride and joy and relief at Meg’s safe birthing.
“He says, if you want proof that Kitty Renwick is your cousin Margaret’s daughter, you should go to the masked ball at Maida Gardens on Saturday.”
Johnny blinked, dragging the remainder of his restless brain to Dunne’s news. “What sort of proof?”
“He didn’t say.”
“Who was he? Or didn’t he say?”
“Actually, he didn’t. But Napper followed him to Seven Dials, where he lost him.”
“He doesn’t sound like a very reliable informant,” Johnny observed.
“Didn’t look like one either. My first thought was flim-flam man. Though an expensively dressed one, especially for Seven Dials. I don’t advise you to go.”
“No,” Johnny said thoughtfully, “though I probably will. Trap or not.”
Dunne sighed. “Very well, I’ll come with you.”
“No, stay home with your wife. She won’t want to be at Maida in her condition. Though you could lend me Napper if he doesn’t slope off back to Gorse before then.”
“You certainly shouldn’t go alone.”
Johnny smiled. “I don’t intend to. I shall get up a party of bored ladies and gentlemen and take my brother Peter for respectability.”
*
“Is that the best gown you have?” Vera asked doubtfully on the evening of the masked ball. Leaving the others in the parlor, she had followed Kitty into her tiny bedchamber to help style her hair more elaborately.
Kitty looked down at the skirt of her deep autumn-red gown. Admittedly, it was not new. For nearly two years, it had been both her party dress and her Sunday best, and she rather liked both its simplicity and its soft, velvet feel.
“Don’t you like it?” she asked, vaguely disappointed.
“Actually, I do, and the color suits your coloring beautifully. Apt for autumn, too. But it’s not exactly a ball gown, is it?”
“I don’t have such a thing, Vera,” Kitty said dryly, eyeing her friend’s delightful lace and embroidery confection with a sparkling gauze train. “There’s never been any point. Besides, I’ll have the domino over it.”
“Let me see, what jewelry do you have?” Vera rummaged in the box and came up with the twisted gold-plated necklace Aunty Mary had given her for her seventeenth birthday. Tiny pearls were set in the apex of each twist, and there was a matching pearl comb for her hair, which Vera found unerringly. “I’d forgotten about these. They will be perfect.”
Ten minutes later, Vera stood back, satisfied. She had rolled Kitty’s hair up into a loose, high pile, held cleverly together with pins and the pearl comb. Only one skein of auburn locks fell artfully loose from her forehead to her right shoulder.
“Perfect,” Vera proclaimed. “Mask and domino, and let’s go!”
“At last,” Rob grumbled as they emerged.
“Where’s Dan?” Vera asked. “Is he not coming with us?”
“Dan’s in the black books,” Rob said cheerfully. “Punished by having to help Dad while Kitty and I go the ball. You’ll probably see them both around the ballroom and the Gardens, though.”
It seemed odd not to be sneaking out in the dark but to belong to a genuine party heading openly to the ball. She seemed to see everything differently, as if through the eyes of a visitor. She didn’t even mind taking Toby’s arm as her escort, Vera being firmly attached to Luke.
“You should wear your hair like that more often,” Toby said warmly. “You look incredibly beautiful tonight.”
“Thank you, But I couldn’t work with hair falling over my face!”
“You shouldn’t be working at all,” Toby said stoutly. “Lovely girl like you.”
“We all do what’s needed,” she said vaguely, wondering what looks had to do with anything.
Uncle Bill, in his usual role of master of ceremonies, welcomed them into the pavilion and showed them to a table of honor with a view of the lantern-lit gardens from the window. He even supplied a bottle of champagne and a large jug of ale, and then, with a glance at Kitty that was part pride and part warning scowl, he walked away about his duties, for the orchestra had started up the first waltz, and the guests braving the Gardens began to spill inside to dance.
“Does he do this every night?” Toby asked, gazing after Uncle Bill as if awed.
“When there’s a ball or other event, yes,” Rob replied, pouring a small amount of champagne into each glass. “Unless he has other business, when I do it for him.”
They all picked up their glasses and clinked, and Kitty had her first taste of champagne. It tasted better than it smelled, but it was odd and bubbly, and she wasn’t sure she liked it until her second sip.
“Where’s Dan, then? Serving the booze?” Toby asked with a hint of derision.
“If necessary,” Rob said evenly. “Usually, he and I make sure there’s no trouble, either in the grounds or the pavilion itself.”
“And is there much of that?” Sal, Vera’s mother, asked.
“No, but it happens,” Rob admitted. “Don’t leave things where they can be stolen. Also, it’s polite to dance with whoever asks you, but you don’t need to put up with…over-familiarity.”
Vera laughed. “Don’t you sound mealy-mouthed!”
“Will you dance, Vera?” Luke asked.
Vera smiled and stood, and they trooped off together.
“What does she see in that boy?” Sal wondered.
“I like Luke,” Kitty said firmly.
“Oh, we all like him, Kitty,” Sal assured her. “And trust him, too, for he’s a clever lad, and Jimmie wouldn’t be without him, now. But she could have anyone.”
“Fenlow, the wine merchant, would have her in a trice,” Toby said gloomily, “if she’d only look at him. And he’s got a place the size of Apsley House. Luke’s got two tiny rooms in Covent Garden. Come and dance with me, Kitty, cheer me up!”
It was inevitable that she would have to dance with Toby at some point in the evening, and it was hardly the first time. Family parties and Christmas parties were hardly the same as masked public balls, however. She had the feeling Rob’s remark about over-familiarity had been aimed largely at Toby, and she was not looking forward to being mauled.
But Toby, it seemed, was happy to keep the line. He held her decorously and chatted amiably as they waltzed, and Kitty was happy enough to join in and laugh at his bad jokes. If he danced a shade awkwardly and missed the rhythm by a fraction all too often, well, she suspected Johnny had spoiled her for lesser men.
Johnny. The Duke of Dearham, God help her.
And then, as though she had conjured him from her mind, she saw him.
A tall, fair gentleman with a lady on his arm led a group of similarly dressed people toward a group of small tables. They were all masked and cloaked, but it was clear from the way they moved, all grace and languor and a subtle, superior amusement at their surroundings, that they were quality. Nobs, as Uncle Bill said.
Which didn’t make the tall, fair gentleman Johnny. His Grace. She had only the tiniest glimpse beyond Toby’s shoulder, and now she could only see his broad, cloaked back.
He could be any nob. And in any case, I’m not his cousin, and I don’t even like him. He’s underhand, dishonest. And I was an idiot to be taken in by well-practiced flattery. She would not think of the kiss, for that, she knew, was well-practiced, too.
She felt an odd pang of loss for the illusion she had harbored for more than a year, of the kind, open-hearted gentleman with the laughing eyes.
*
Johnny saw her from the table, almost as soon as he sat down with his brother and friends. Surprised, for he had the impression her visits to the masked balls were rare, he found himself unreasonably annoyed with her partner. This was a stocky, slightly overdressed fellow with extravagant taste in waistcoats. And jewels. Rings winked on his fingers, and his cravat sparkled.
But Johnny was not here for Kitty, not directly. Instead, he was here to meet the mysterious man who claimed to have proof Kitty was his cousin. How exactly he was supposed to recognize this man had not been revealed, though it really had to be someone close enough to the Renwicks to know anything about his quest. Johnny suspected one of her cousins, who perhaps looked on the situation less sentimentally than Bill Renwick.
While Johnny made sure his guests had wine and made amiable conversation, he kept a surreptitious eye on Kitty. Something told him she was not quite comfortable with her partner, although when the dance ended, she took his arm easily enough, and they walked without debate toward a table at the back. Another couple converged on this table, too, and they all sat down together. Three young fellows, Kitty, and another young woman, who were whispering together like old friends, and an older woman who raised a glass often to her lips but appeared to be a chaperone, at least nominally. Was this her family?
“What the devil are we doing here?” his brother Peter whispered in his ear. “It’s downright vulgar.”
“True. I’m seeing to your broader education.”
Peter lowered his voice even further so that Lady Langtry next to him would not hear. “There must be better places to seduce your next mistress.”
“Don’t be presumptuous, Peter,” Johnny murmured. “I brought her for you.”
Peter blushed, which was one of his endearing traits, and glared disapprovingly at Johnny, which was not.
“Ask her,” Johnny said provokingly, just loud enough for Lady Langtry to hear.
Inevitably, she turned to smile at them both. “Ask me what?”
“To dance,” Peter said civilly, the flick of his eyes at Johnny promising retribution on a grand scale. “May I have the honor?”
When he had stood to wave them off, as it were, Johnny returned his attention to Kitty’s table and noticed the man she had been dancing with was no longer there. He had no idea whether or not Kitty knew Johnny was present. But a moment later, while listening with half a smile to the banter of his friends, he noticed Kitty’s erstwhile partner standing against a pillar not far from his table.
Interesting…
To test a theory, he excused himself to his friends and strolled over to Kitty’s table.
She had known he was here, for there was no surprise in her eyes, only dread as she turned them up to his. That looked startled him, shamed him, though he had no immediate idea why. Unless it was that he cut up her peace with his presence, with his talk of her being one of his family.
Or perhaps because he had kissed her when her uncle had made sure she was more sheltered than his own sisters had been. That had not been well done of him perhaps, though it had felt quite delicious at the time, and she had melted most appealingly into his arms. He was too used to following his heart…or at least his bodily instincts.
