Page 1 of His Unwanted Duchess

CHAPTER 1

“No, no, no. Perhaps,absolutelynot, perhaps, and another resounding no. Oh, but yes to Miss Periwinkle’s coming-out ball. If I cause enough of a stir, everybody will be talking about the girl for months to come.”

Stephen slid the pile of cards and invitations across the desk to where his secretary waited. He took aside a small note before he did, however. It was from his mother, doubtless informing him that she had arrived in London. Nothing he was not already expecting, but he would read it later.

The secretary bowed wordlessly. The man had little to say, but he had an excellent memory. Stephen did not doubt that polite, carefully worded replies to each one of those invitations would wing their way out of his townhouse within the hour.

The secretary scuttled away, leaving Stephen alone with the butler.

Mr. Mouse was a serious, rather thin man, with impressive jowls and a height of no less than six feet nine inches. He was, if rumors were to be believed, barely thirty, which was remarkably young for a butler. He had a fuzz of close-cropped dark hair on his head and unfortunately large ears. However, his height often overshadowed his remarkable ears.

It was a rare person that could make Stephen feel like the second-tallest man in a room.

“Nothing from Theodore, I see,” Stephen sighed. “Is the man so wrapped up in his new wife that he can’t dash off a few sentences to his oldest friend? Shocking, shocking.”

“Young love is said to be remarkably preoccupying, Your Grace,” Mouse said, with the staunchness of a man who is not sure he approves of any such thing.

“Very true, very true. What time is dinner, Mouse?”

“Half past eight, Your Grace. It could be ready sooner, by about half an hour, if you would prefer.”

Stephen glanced at the clock. Seven o’clock. He had plenty of time to finish his work. There were things to do concerning the estate that could not wait. Besides, it wasn’t as if he had much else to do tonight.

The Season was in full swing, and that meant parties and balls and trips to Vauxhall most nights. Stephen was invited to mostof them, despite the promise he’d made to his mother a full year ago. However, respectable familiesdidkeep their debutante daughters away from him. A few widows and ladies on their second, third, and fourth Seasons glanced his way, but it was easy enough to sidestep them.

He turned down most of the invitations he received. His arrival at any party was sure to make it into a gossip column. For Miss Periwinkle, for example, his arrival at her coming-out ball would have everybody talking, terrified that he was about to seduce the sweet, innocent young girl. Gentlemen and chevaliers would rush to her defense, and she could take her pick from among them.

Miss Periwinkle was a nice enough girl, and her family had always been pleasant to Stephen. If his attendance at her coming-out ball could increase the likelihood of her securing a good match, then so be it.

Not that marriage was a good thing, naturally. At least, not for people like him, and it had brought nothing good to his mother. Stephen would rather have encouraged her to avoid it, but that was not practical for ladies, even if she would have listened to him.

He sighed, leaning back in his chair. Yes, there was not much to do tonight but work, eat alone, and then retire to bed.

“Eight o’clock sounds fine, Mouse.”

“Very good, Your Grace.”

The butler bowed himself out, leaving Stephen alone. The clock ticked on the mantelpiece, counting out the seconds.

Abruptly, Stephen got to his feet and crossed to the window. Outside, the streets were dark and slick with rain. The weather was bad this Season, threatening the flimsy slippers and thin shawls ladies liked to wear.

He paused, squinting down as a hackney cab approached his house. Sure enough, it stopped outside his door.

Who could it be? At this time of night?

He entertained a brief hope of his mother visiting, or perhaps even Theodore and his new wife, Anna, but of course that was nonsense. None of them would require a hired cab.

A cloaked, hunched-over creature descended from the cab and rapidly disappeared from his field of vision. He stood by the window, waiting for the inevitable knock and subsequent creak of Mouse’s footsteps.

The butler stepped inside the study, looking disgruntled. “Your Grace, a lady is here.”

“A lady?” Stephen echoed. “What is her name?”

“She will not give it. She is being particularly shifty, Your Grace.”

“I can imagine. Well, I don’t have time to see a lady right now.”

“It’s just that…” Mouse paused, shifting in uncharacteristic discomfort. “It’s just that I believe she is alady,Your Grace. A proper one. Not…” he trailed off.

---