Page 26 of The Duke of Seduction
“I will ask him to cease his poetry campaign. While he may have enjoyed some success with the first few young women, not all of us appreciate his interference.”
Sarah pursed her lips. “I don’t think you should.”
Both Fanny and Lavinia stared at her, but it was Lavinia who spoke. “Why not?”
“Yesterday’s event at the park already diverted more attention to you—everyone was talking about you fainting last night. You’ve become a bit of a hero to young women who would dearly love to have a marquess and an earl arguing over them. If you decry the Duke of Seduction, you might become a pariah.”
Lavinia groaned and flung herself back against the chair. “This is a disaster.” While becoming a pariah would certainly alleviate her current stress, it would potentially ensure she didn’t marry at all this Season, and her parents would be furious. In fact, regardless of the impact, her mother would be incensed if Lavinia wrote a letter at all. Lavinia narrowed her eyes. “I shall have to write it anonymously, then. Just as he does.”
Sarah’s lips curved into a smile. “Brilliant. You must call yourself the Duchess of Independence.”
“Perfect.” Lavinia grinned.
“How do you plan to ensure the editor of theMorning Chronicleprints it?” Fanny asked.
Lavinia shrugged. “I would think he’d be eager. The duke’s poems are quite popular.” She recalled Northam’s suggestion from the day before. “Lord Northam offered to deliver the letter to theMorning Chronicle. To remain anonymous, perhaps I should accept his assistance.”
“For a nonsuitor, the marquess is rather intent on helping you,” Sarah said with a heavy dollop of irony and more than a bit of curiosity.
It was a trifle odd, but Lavinia knew he felt bad about the way they’d met and his inappropriate behavior. Still, most rakes—probably all rakes—would simply have laughed it off and perhaps even tried to seduce her after dispatching Lady Fairwell. Northam, it appeared, was not the average rake. And that intrigued her.
Which she had no time for. She wanted her boring life back where she could enjoy her time hugging the wall with her friends and talking at length about subjects that interested her. She wasn’t able to take short jaunts to look at geologically interesting locations with so much attention directed at her. In fact, she despaired of being able to do that at all this Season, much to her disappointment.
“Unlike the Duke of Seduction, the marquess’s help is actuallyhelpful. For that reason alone, I’ll accept it. Sarah, can your brother ensure Northam is at the park later so I can give him this letter for theMorning Chronicle?”
“Certainly.” Sarah peered at her. “Perhaps I should have him ask Northam why he’s helping you.”
“No, don’t do that,” Lavinia said. “Hopefully, I won’t require his assistance at all after this. Do you have foolscap here?”
Sarah rose. “Of course. I’ll just run up to my chamber to fetch it along with the other writing implements.” The moment she left, Lavinia began verbally drafting the letter with Fanny’s help.
An hour later, they were finished, and the sealed letter was tucked into Lavinia’s pocket as she left Sarah’s house. Unfortunately, they were not able to go to the park because the sky decided to unleash a rainstorm that would have soaked them to the bone.
It was so wet, in fact, that Lavinia’s mother considered not going to the Compton rout that evening. Lavinia had insistently talked her into it—not that her mother had needed much persuasion—and then tried to come up with a scheme in which she could get the note to Northam. Assuming he was even at the rout. This nonsense of men and women not being allowed to be friends was becoming increasingly bothersome.
As soon as she arrived at the Comptons’, Sarah joined her with an excited air. “I spoke to Anthony and arranged things for Lord Northam to pick up your letter. I said you would leave it on the mantelpiece in the library.”
Lavinia grinned. “Brilliant! You must thank Anthony for me. He really is a wonderful brother.”
“Sometimes,” Sarah said. “Sometimes, he’s a… Never mind.” She winked at Lavinia.
As soon as Fanny arrived, Lavinia stole away to His Grace’s library. She’d never been in the room before, and it took a bit of searching to find it. She closed the door behind her and went to the hearth. Withdrawing the letter from her reticule, she set it on the mantelpiece next to a small figurine of a dog.
Then, because she couldn’t help herself, she went to the bookshelf and perused the spines for anything of interest, pulling out unmarked spines here and there. One of them, a rather slim volume, was calledThe Peculiar Rocks of the Outer Hebrides. Feeling as though she’d discovered a very special treasure, she slipped the book from the shelf.
Just a few moments later, the door clicked, and she pressed the book closed. She stared guiltily as Lord Northam entered. His gaze dipped to her hands. “Reading again, I see.”
“I’m afraid I couldn’t resist.”
“Of course not.” He moved closer. “What is it tonight, then?”
“The most delightful little book about the peculiar rocks in the Outer Hebrides. They sound astonishing, with a variety of colors and strata. I’d dearly love to see them someday.” She replaced the book on the shelf with a sigh. Turning, she inclined her head toward the fireplace. “The letter is there.”
His gloved fingers plucked it from the mantel. He glanced down at the name she’d written on the front. “I’ll see that he gets it.”
“Thank you.” She took a step toward him so that only a couple of feet separated them. “My friends asked me why you are so keen to help me.”
“Can’t a gentleman simply perform a kindness?”
