Page 1 of The Earl's Hired Bride
Prologue
Prologue
Half Moon House
April, 1817
“The gentleman did not givehis name.”
Hestia Wright shared a glance with her boulder of a footman. She and Isaac had been together for years. They both knew that the number of gentlemen who wished not to advertise his association with her was legion.
The man in her office could be anyone. Perhaps not a former protector—the majority of them were too wealthy and influential to appear unnoticed here in Craven Street. A present business associate or charitable sponsor, then? Or a future benefactor for the work they did at Half Moon House? The twinkle in Isaac’s eye told her that there was something special about this one.
Even so, she was caught by surprise when she breezed into her office.
“Your Grace,” she said with pleasure. She dipped into the elegant curtsy that had once been envied and imitated in Europe’s finest parlors. “What an unexpected but delightful surprise.”
The Duke of Danby rose from the chair before her desk. He bowed, but it was an impatient gesture. “I’m sorry to burst in on you unannounced and without an appointment, but no one knows I’m in Town yet.”
“Well, I did not know,” she said with a smile, “which means that indeed, likely no one does.”
“I’d like to keep it that way, for just a little while longer,” he said with a significant glance at Isaac.
“Your Grace,” Hestia chided. “You know we are the souls of discretion. Your secrets are safe with us.”
“I do know it—and that is why I am here.”
“Come and sit.” She waved him away from the desk and toward the grouping of chairs before the fire. “Let us be comfortable. Isaac will bring tea.”
“You are still a stunningly beautiful woman, Hestia,” he said bluntly as they settled into their seats.
“Thank you.” She flashed him a smile. “I’m not the young sylph I was when we assisted each other with that matter in Prague, so long ago.”
“But you are ten times the woman, by all reports.” The Duke leaned in. “Which is why I am here to ask for your help once again. And yes, before you ask, I’m ready to give you a sizable donation for your good works, in exchange.”
“Oh, dear. Not even a negotiation? I do remember our collaboration, Your Grace. You make me worry that this must be a difficult task indeed.”
“It is,” he admitted. “It’s a damned tricky business.”
Isaac knocked and Hestia called for him to enter. She watched the duke fidget while she poured. When they were both served she sat back and eyed him over the rim of her cup.
“I’ve done my best by my family,” he said as the door closed behind her footman. “It’s important to me. It hasn’t been easy, but I’ve managed to negotiate most of the younger generation into alliances with solid spouses of good character and situation.”
“And bullied and manipulated when negotiation failed, if the gossips have it right?”
“Gossips be damned. My family is by and large ready to continue on in happiness and prosperity. It’s a worthwhile life’s work, if you ask me. But there are a few cases left—and I’m here about a particularly delicate one.”
“Do tell,” she invited.
He set down his cup. “This is for your ears only, you understand.”
“You have my word,” she assured him.
“You will perhaps have heard of my sister Georgina?”
Hestia knew the family history of most of the important houses in England and Europe—and a great many of their secrets, too. She suspected she was about to discover a new one.
“I have heard of her. Her name has been mentioned of late, mostly due to your success in marrying her granddaughter off to the new Lord Ellesworth. Congratulations, by the way.”
