Stolen Encounters With The Duchess

Chapter Three

After seeing the Duchess safely off in a hackney, Davie started walking. He should go back to the committee room, but after spending time with Faith, he was too energised, excited—and aroused—to be able to recapture yet the calm and imperturbable mask he wore when doing political work.

And partly, he admitted to himself, he wanted to savour the rare experience of spending time with her. Let himself linger and recall each moment, like a collector taking a precious object out of a treasure box, to admire and examine again and again.

As a girl, she’d glowed with an infectious joy in life that drew people to her, like an inn’s beacon attracts travellers on a cold, dark night. He recalled her fixing that warm, intense gaze on him while he spoke, as if he were the most fascinating individual in the universe. To feel like the sole focus of attention of so beautiful and intelligent a girl—small wonder he’d tumbled head over heels.

It hurt his heart to see how sadness had dimmed that glow. But though the fire might have burned low, embers remained. He felt compelled to give her the encouragement and opportunities that would fan those sparks to a blaze again.

Just this one short meeting proved to him it was possible. Offered his understanding and support, and the prospect of an evening away from her usual society duties, she had unconsciously straightened, her expression brighter, her smile warmer, while in her eyes, a guarded enthusiasm grew.

He couldn’t wait to see that progress continue, when she actually attended such a gathering.

He shouldn’t have made that remark about ‘stimulating’ her, though the desire coursing through him had been too strong for him to rescind it, inappropriate as it was. She’d been lovely enough, swaddled in her cape in the dimness of lamplight last night; upon seeing her in full daylight, in that grey gown that accented her curves and brought out the brilliance of her blue eyes, he would have to have been made of stone not to have wanted her more than ever. The slender beauty he’d loved for so long had grown into a powerfully alluring woman.

Though she’d not known how to reply to his suggestive remark, she hadn’t rebuffed him. Quite the contrary; leaning closer, her lips parting slightly, her gaze heating, he had read in her response that the passion he felt was reciprocated.

Probably not with the same intensity, he conceded. Still, he couldn’t help feeling a primal masculine satisfaction upon discovering that the lady he prized above all others found him attractive, both as a friend and as a man. But knowing that she would welcome his touch would also make it harder to hold under control a body already ravenous to taste her.

Because that absolutely could not happen. An affair between two individuals from such radically different levels of society was too delicious a piece of gossip not to eventually become known, no matter how careful they were about meeting. Much as he wanted her, he loved her more. He would not tarnish her honour—or his—with an affair that would make her the target of the malicious, or give her mother-in-law further reason to disparage her or question her fitness to bring up her sons.

Besides, an affair would never be enough for him. Having all of her for a time and then being forced to give her up would be unendurable.

Better to live with the ache he knew, re-establish their friendship, and use that position to enrich her life as best he could. Even if she would never be his, he wanted her to be happy.

Still not ready to return to the committee room, where he would have to banish Faith’s image and the memories of today’s meeting, he considered going back to Albany to write Lady Lyndlington a note. But then he’d have to wait upon her reply before he could communicate with Faith, and he didn’t want to wait.

Why not call upon his friend’s wife now? She would most likely be either at her town house in Upper Brook Street, or her father’s home in Cavendish Square.

Energised by the prospect of being able to move forward his scheme, Davie hurried to the hackney stand and engaged a jarvey to take him to Upper Brook Street.

* * *

To his relief, Lady Lyndlington was at home, although the butler informed him this wasn’t a day when she would normally receive guests. Insisting that he was close enough a friend of the master for that restriction not to apply to him, he persuaded the butler to convey him to the Blue Salon and to enquire whether her ladyship could spare him a few minutes.

Davie paced the parlour, too agitated to sit. He was certain his friend’s wife would take the Duchess under her wing, and impatient to learn when they could begin.

‘Davie, what a pleasant surprise,’ Lady Lyndlington said as she walked in, giving him her hands to kiss. ‘That is, everything is all right? Giles hasn’t suffered any injury—’

‘No, no, Giles is fine! I’m sorry if my sudden appearance worried you, Maggie. It’s just, I had a favour to ask, and since I was out, rather than send you a note, I thought I’d try to catch you at home and deliver the request in person.’

Her worried countenance relaxed as she waved him to a seat. ‘If it’s within my power, I would be happy to grant it. What do you need?’

‘I recently ran into—almost literally—an old friend. Faith Wellingford—you would know her as the Duchess of Ashedon.’

‘The Duchess? I didn’t know you were acquainted!’

‘She’s a cousin of my sponsor’s wife. We developed a friendship many years ago, when I first began working as secretary to Sir Edward, and she was visiting her cousin. We grew to be close, though of course, there was never any question of a warmer relationship between us. I’ve only seen her a few times since her marriage, and we’ve grown apart. But upon meeting her again, I was struck by how...unhappy she is.’

‘Having been married to Ashedon, I’m not surprised,’ Maggie said bluntly.

‘She wanted to know what I’d been doing, so I told her a bit about the Reform Bill. We used to have quite spirited discussions of politics. She seemed so intrigued, I asked if she would like to attend one of your political dinners. She was quite enthused by the idea, so I said I would approach you to ask for an invitation.’

‘Of course I will include her, if you think she would enjoy it.’

‘She has a lively mind, which apparently doesn’t get much use during her usual society functions. I do believe she would enjoy the debate.’

‘I will send her a card, then. And you, of course.’

‘Thank you, Maggie. I’ll be very grateful.’

Davie’s mind immediately moved to evaluating options for conveying the news to Faith. Should he send a note, asking her to meet him? Or just write, letting her know that an invitation from Maggie would be forthcoming?

Meeting her, of course, would be his preference, but...

‘How long have you loved her?’ Maggie’s quiet voice interrupted his racing thoughts.

Shocked, he jerked his gaze back, to find her regarding him, sympathy in her eyes. He considered for an instant returning a denial, but as she had just granted his rather odd request for help, there seemed little point in dissembling. ‘Since the moment I set eyes on her, I suppose,’ he admitted. ‘Is it so obvious?’

‘Probably not, unless one already suspected it.’ She smiled. ‘Leaving aside the fact that you seemed to be unusually concerned about the well-being of a lady who was merely a friend from long ago, your whole face lights up when you talk about her. There’s this intensity in your eyes, and an urgency in your words.’

He sighed. ‘I’ve been avoiding going back to the committee room for that very reason, suspecting I might not be able to hide that I’d seen her again. I’ll tell Giles privately, but the last thing I want is for Ben or Christopher to find out. They’ve harassed me enough over the years about my obsession with the “Unattainable One”.’

‘They all know about her?’

‘At some point, I had to explain why I was always turning Ben and Christopher down when they wanted to go carousing, or when Christopher offered to have his current lady find a friend for me.’

She nodded. ‘Better to remain alone, than be disappointed in yourself and your partner, when she can’t compare to your lady.’

‘Exactly!’ he cried, surprised and gratified to discover someone who understood. ‘No one else can compare. Coming upon her again unexpectedly, the difference was...shocking. As if I’d been living in a grey world under cloudy skies, and suddenly, the sun came out, painting everything with vivid colour. Not that I’ve found my life dull or purposeless up till now, I assure you. But she just makes things...different. More beautiful.’

‘I know. I lived in just such a dull world—before I found Giles to illumine it.’

He gave a rueful sigh. ‘Ben and Christopher keep insisting that if I really wanted to, I could forget her and turn my attention to someone more suitable. But just because one knows one can’t have something, that doesn’t mean one can make oneself stop wanting it.’

‘I know. I am sorry.’

‘Don’t be. Loving her is an old ache, and I’ve known from the beginning that nothing could ever come from it. A penniless farmer’s orphan does not marry the well-dowered daughter of a family whose ancestors came over with the Conquest.’

‘And why should the daughter of an ancient family be valued any higher than a commoner who, by his own efforts, has risen to a position of power?’

He smiled at her. ‘That sounds like Lord Grey and the Friends of the People. Has Giles been converting you?’

‘I should hope I always appreciate individuals for what they themselves accomplish, not for their pedigree. However, you...you do not intend to attempt more than rekindling a friendship, do you?’

He didn’t pretend not to understand her. ‘No. I wouldn’t tarnish her honour—or mine—by attempting an affair. Goodness knows, nothing more is possible.’

She sighed. ‘It makes me sound a terrible snob, after just stating how much I value you—and I do, you are worth ten of her wretched Duke!—I have to agree. Hadley’s Hellions are doing their best to make the world a more equitable place, but we are nowhere close to being a society that would react to a duchess’s remarriage to a commoner with anything but shock and derision. Not so much for you, of course. But for her... I never had any desire to move in the late Duke’s circle, but like most of society, I heard enough of his exploits—and the falsely sweet “sympathy” expressed for his “poor little Duchess”. She’s suffered enough. I’d not be a party to anything that would bring more scorn upon her, or result in her permanent banishment from society.’

‘I assure you, all I wish is to offer her is the chance to meet other individuals from her own rank, whose company she may find more interesting and fulfilling than the endless rounds of idle society parties she told me she’s come to hate.’

‘With all the snide remarks her husband’s infidelities must have forced her to endure, I can understand why she detests them. Just promise me you won’t complicate her situation. She has already had enough to bear, married to Ashedon all those years.’

‘That’s an easy promise to give. I want to lighten her burden, not make it heavier.’

‘In that case, I shall be delighted to include her in the dinner I’m planning for next Friday. Giles and Papa are assembling some men of less radical views, with the hope of building a moderate coalition that will see the Reform Bill passed more swiftly. I’ll send her a card. And one to you as well.’

‘Thank you, Maggie. I very much appreciate it. I think you’ll like the Duchess, and I know she will enjoy your gathering.’

‘I hope you will as well.’ She looked at him, her face troubled. ‘You did me a very good turn once, bringing me back to the man I loved. I only wish I could conjure a magic spell, so I might create as favourable a result for you.’

‘Helping Faith is the best thing you can do for me.’

‘I’ll do all I can.’ She walked him to the door, halting on the threshold to give him a kiss on the cheek. ‘Have a care for yourself, too, Davie. As I know only too well, hearts can break more than once.’

‘But only once for the same person,’ he replied, and walked out.

He certainly hoped so, anyway.

* * *

In the afternoon two days later, having received a note from Davie informing her that Lady Lyndlington would be sending her a card of invitation for a dinner the following Friday, Faith ordered a hackney and went to pay a call on her erstwhile hostess. She’d suffered the expected dressing-down from the Dowager over her dinner-party flight—and her absence from the obligatory drive in the Park the next day—in a silence meek enough not to call down more criticism on her head. She felt safe enough attempting this errand; as Davie had said, even the high-in-the-instep Dowager couldn’t fault her calling on the daughter of a marquess.

Knowing how persuasive Davie the politician could be, she wanted to assure herself that Lady Lyndlington truly wished to include her in the gathering...and to discover whether she would feel comfortable enough with her hostess to want to attend.

In the early years of their marriage, Ashedon had done a very effective job in isolating her, distancing her from her family while at the same time actively discouraging her developing friendships with anyone else. At the time, still radiantly in love and certain of his love in return, she’d been too preoccupied trying to learn the duties required of the mistress of numerous properties and a multitude of servants, then waylaid by a succession of pregnancies and the delight of newborns, to fully realise just how alone she’d become.

But as the boys grew and her husband’s attentions dwindled, she’d become only too aware that she had virtually no friends of her age and class. The society women in whose company she often found herself all seemed to have already established circles of friendship, which were not interested in admitting any newcomers. And even if they had, most of the members were either indifferent to or contemptuous of the country life and activities that she prized so much more highly than the idle amusements of London.

She could tell that Davie admired Lady Lyndlington, and she valued his opinion. But a man’s view of a woman could be very different from one woman’s view of another. Would this marquess’s daughter, with her superior intellect and expertise in politics, hide beneath polite words the same contemptuous pity for simple little Faith Wellingford that made her association with other sophisticated ladies of the ton so unpleasant?

The carriage slowed to a halt, the footman coming over to open the door and hand her down. Heading to the front steps of the Upper Brook Street town house, Faith took a deep breath, suppressing out of long habit a too-often disappointed hope. One way or another, she was about to find out.

The butler showed her into an elegant room done in the Adam style in shades of white and blue. Several bookcases stood against one wall, filled with a variety of volumes. Perusing the shelves to discover several plays and novels she had enjoyed, Faith felt a renewal of the hope she’d tried to squelch.

Perhaps Lady Lyndlington might be someone of similar interests after all.

A moment later, the lady herself entered. ‘Duchess, how kind of you to call! I do hope you didn’t do so to convey your regrets for the Friday night gathering! I’m very much looking forward to becoming better acquainted. Davie—Mr Smith—is my husband’s closest friend, and we both have a very high regard for him—and for anyone of whom he speaks with as much warmth and respect as he did of you.’

‘He is very kind.’

‘Indeed. Would you take tea?’

‘If I wouldn’t be imposing, or taking you away from other duties.’

‘Not at all. I should like it very much.’

As would I, Faith thought, her cautious optimism increasing as her hostess rang the bell pull and informed the butler to bring refreshments. She’d spoken briefly with Lady Lyndlington at several society balls, among a crush of other attendees, but meeting her here in her own parlour, she was immediately drawn by her warm, open friendliness.

She’d already seen enough to decide she could safely accept the dinner invitation. She’d try not to hope for more.

‘I understand you’ve known Mr Smith since you were very young,’ her hostess said as she took a seat on the sofa.

‘Yes, before I even made my come-out. I was spending the summer with my cousin, and Mr Smith had come to serve as secretary to her husband.’ Faith gestured to the bookshelves. ‘After dinner one night, we found ourselves both in the library, searching for a book. Which led to a discussion about favourite authors that lasted the rest of the evening. After that, we met in the afternoons when he’d finished his work, and talked or rode. I’d read him poetry; he’d tell me about history and politics and his plans for the future—to become a parliamentarian, and help to change the government of the nation. He was so...intelligent, and caring, and full of conviction! I’d never met anyone like him.’

Lady Lyndlington smiled. ‘It sounds as if he hasn’t changed very much. He’s still intelligent, caring and full of conviction.’

He’s changed in one way, Faith thought, conversation lapsing as the butler brought in the tea tray. The romantic young hero has become a compellingly attractive man.

‘Yes, he seems much the same as I remember,’ she continued after Lady Lyndlington handed her a cup. ‘Foolishly, I suppose, I expected we would maintain our friendship over the years. But of course, once I married and he began his career we...didn’t see each other very often.’

‘I expect not. Running such a large household, a duchess must have many duties.’

Declining to correct that erroneous assumption, she said, ‘Mr Smith tells me that you’ve managed your father’s household for years, and arrange his political dinners. How fascinating it must be, to literally have a seat at the table of power as matters of national interest are discussed!’

Lady Lyndlington laughed. ‘Along with a smattering of gossip and personal anecdotes. But you are right; it is stimulating. Not that I did anything special to deserve being so blessed, other than having the good fortune to be born my father’s daughter. I do hope you will find the evening enjoyable.’

‘I’m sure I shall! I expect to do no more than listen, which I hope will be acceptable. What’s the old saying—‘Better to be silent and be thought foolish, than to speak and remove all doubt’? I shall refrain from displaying my ignorance!’

‘Listening to the discussions, you will soon have a fairly accurate picture of what’s transpiring. Please, feel free to ask questions! Coming into the debates with no preconceived ideas, you will have a fresh perspective that could be most helpful.’

‘Well, I don’t know about that, but I shall certainly listen most carefully.’

‘The discussions often become quite lively—and I hope they will be, for there’s no cards, or singing, or other entertainment. I would hate to bore you on your very first evening with us.’

‘I don’t care at all for gaming, and I shall be quite content to listen to intelligent discussion of issues that matter, rather than the snide, biting comments that so often form much of the conversation.’ She shrugged. ‘Perhaps because I have been so often the subject of them.’

Lady Lyndlington frowned. ‘Surely people are not disrespectful to a duchess!’

‘Oh, no, they are obsequious—to my face.’ Perhaps it was the ready sympathy she read in the other woman’s expression, but once she’d started, Faith couldn’t seem to keep herself from adding bitterly, ‘But I often “overhear” comments made, I’m sure, deliberately just within my hearing. About what a poor little dab of a thing I am, how it’s no wonder, after getting his heirs on me, my husband looked elsewhere. And now that my mother-in-law has moved back in, I am treated daily to a recital of all the ways in which I fall short of being worthy of the high position I occupy.’

‘I feel so fortunate in my family, who have supported me through the worst of times!’ Lady Lyndlington shook her head. ‘I’m so sorry you haven’t experienced that, and I wish I could protest that most in society are kind. But as I know only too well, many are not.’

Faith grimaced. ‘They seem to assume I don’t have the wit, or the courage, to toss back some biting response. I could answer in kind. I just don’t want to. Isn’t there enough heartache and cruelty in the world, without deliberately adding to it?’

Impulsively, her hostess seized her hand. ‘I so agree! And I understand more than you know. Before I met Giles, after being a widow for several years, I began to think about remarrying. I’d been acting as Papa’s hostess for some time, and had a number of interested suitors. Sadly, having married my childhood best friend, I was completely naïve, never questioning that the admiration a man expressed might be due more to my wealth and family connections than to the charms of my person.’

‘Now that, I cannot believe!’ Faith protested.

‘Believe it,’ Lady Lyndlington said with surprising bitterness. ‘One particularly ardent suitor, who had political aspirations my father’s support could assist, convinced me of his love, and I persuaded myself I returned his regard. Just before we were to wed, I discovered that he maintained a little love-nest where he continued to entertain chère-amies. Apparently I was the only one in London who didn’t know about it. I broke the engagement, but you can imagine the titters behind fans and malicious comments I “overheard”. But you may know this already; it was quite the on dit.’

Hardly believing so lovely, confident, and intelligent a lady could have been subject to such treatment, Faith said, ‘I didn’t know. So you truly do understand.’

‘Yes. By the way, I did, quite inadvertently, discover a way to respond to the malicious that did not require descending to the same level as the speaker. Soon after the...incident, I overhead a comment that so infuriated me, I couldn’t utter a word. I simply turned and stared at the perpetrator, as if she were a worm I’d discovered on one of my prize roses and intended to crush. She ended up looking away first, and never bothered me again. The technique worked so well, I used it on several other occasions during that awful time, to good effect.’ She patted Faith’s hand. ‘I recommend the tactic.’

Faith had to smile. ‘As a marquess’s daughter, you were probably born to it, but I doubt I could manage the “look”. Papa lost all our money when I was still so young, I grew up with no expectations of making a grand match, more comfortable climbing trees and riding in my brother’s old breeches than mastering curtsies and clever drawing-room conversation. But thank you. I’m sure I’ll have occasions I could try out the technique, whether or not I can carry it off.’

Lady Lyndlington nodded. ‘Practise it in front of your glass. I did.’

At the idea of this elegant lady practising set-down looks in a mirror, Faith had to laugh out loud. ‘No! I don’t believe it!’

‘Oh, it’s true. I’d remember the remark that so incensed me, and look into the mirror until I perfected an expression that should have made the glass shatter and vaporise into dust. You must try it.’

Subsiding with a giggle, Faith set aside her cup. ‘Perhaps I will. But now, I’ve taken up enough of your time.’

She rose, and her hostess rose with her. ‘You will come to dinner on Friday?’