Page 1 of If Not for the Duke

Chapter One

London, England

May 1878

Lena Wright shruggedin an attempt to dispel the familiar but unwelcome sensation that threatened to sweep over her. The middle of the Barrington Garden party was not the time to have one of her spells. Yet a familiar chill ran along her scalp and down her spine, a telltale sign that something unfortunate was about to occur. Or had just occurred. Or might occur.

She heaved a frustrated sigh, trying to will the feeling away before someone noticed her acting oddly.

“What is it?” Norah, her older sister by two years, asked as she handed Lena a glass of lemonade.

“Nothing.” Never mind that a glance at Norah’s expression confirmed that she already knew. “Just a feeling.” She took a sip of the cool, tart drink, still hoping the sense would go away.

Why Lena bothered to try to dismiss these moments was a source of disagreement between her and her sisters. Lena had explained that having the feeling that “something” was amiss wasn’t helpful. After all, she rarely knew the exact nature of the problem. It wasn’t as if she had a vision along with it that explained the details. Sometimes there wasn’t even a problem. Too often, her supposed “gift” of intuition was misleading and upsetting.

Wrong as often as it was right.

Unreliable at best.

Nonexistent at worst.

The sense had failed her when she needed it most—the day her father died. Guilt from that terrible time was something she struggled with daily.

And she hated how the feeling made her different from other people. She couldn’t share it, nor was it easy to hide. Not when it took over her mind and blocked out all else. For those few moments when the sensation swept over her, she didn’t see or hear what was happening around her. It made friendships difficult and the chance of marriage unlikely. No wonder she tried to hide the sense, even from her sisters.

“Do you know what’s causing it?” Norah asked quietly as she glanced around the numerous guests spread amidst the elaborate garden where conversation and laughter flowed.

The afternoon sunshine was warm and lovely. The brightly colored gowns of the ladies in attendance added to the picturesque scene with the vast array of blooming flowers, bubbling fountain, and sculpted shrubbery. Gentlemen dotted the area as well, their brown and beige suits lending a somber tone to the vivid color palette.

Lena heaved another sigh and reluctantly returned her attention to the question. This was the difficult part—attempting to identify the potential issue. She studied the guests, noting the increase of her heartbeat as her body seemed to insist she take action. If only she knew what action to take.

She worried her lower lip as she considered the possibilities. Movements caught her eye. A gentleman gestured with his hand. A woman spun to greet a friend, causing her skirts to flare. Parasols tipped forward and back as guests moved along the garden paths. She knew most or was at least acquainted with them. In truth, nothing looked out of the ordinary.

Still, the nagging feeling persisted, so she continued to study the scene. The cause might not even be at this gathering. Something could be amiss at home, or with their eldest sister, Ella, who wasn’t in attendance as she was expecting her first child. It might also be Norah’s husband, the Marquess of Vanbridge, since Lena had experienced previous inklings of danger threatening him, which had proven true.

Lena’s gaze caught on a young lady who stood some ten feet away, and the sense heightened, her chills increasing. Lena watched her for a moment, having noted her earlier as she was unfamiliar.

The young woman couldn’t be more than eighteen years of age and seemed uncomfortable based on the awkward way she moved with her hands slightly out before her as if to keep from bumping into anything. She stood near a fountain and didn’t seem to be enjoying herself in the least.

That was something to which Lena could relate. It had taken her well over a year to appreciate any of the social events they attended, partly because she and her two sisters had been the center of attention, a novelty of sorts.

As the granddaughters of the Duke of Rothwood, Lena and her sisters were invited to more functions than they could possibly attend. During their first Season in London three years ago, everything seemed overwhelming and unfamiliar compared to their previous life on a remote island in Nova Scotia. The attention had made Lena uncomfortable, a sharp contrast to their quiet childhood.

The unfortunate young lady, with dark brown hair and a thin face, seemed to be in a similar situation. Her gaze darted about, not settling on anything. Her lips were pressed tight, whether from worry or in a grimace, Lena couldn’t tell.

An older woman stood beside the girl, possibly her chaperone, and looked about with interest. Both were dressed fashionably, the younger in a pale-yellow muslin with a floral underskirt in the latest princess-line style, which had replaced bustles with a slim look created by using vertical tucks. The older woman wore a fashionable, green-striped gown with red trim.

Lena watched the young lady, noting how she lifted her gloved hands out before her only to drop them and take a step back. Then another.

“Good heavens,” Lena whispered. “She’s going to topple into the fountain.” In an instant, she knew that was the cause of her distress.

“Oh, dear!” Norah gasped, suggesting she could easily envision the woman falling in, too.

The large water feature consisted of a life-size stone mermaid whose cupped hands spurted water. The base of the pool was knee-high, making it easy to fall into. Stone fish circled the shallow pool around the figurine with mouths open, spraying water as well.

Without hesitation, Lena handed Norah her lemonade and then weaved through the guests along the path, moving toward the lady as quickly as she dared. Though the woman wouldn’t suffer a great deal of harm from falling in the fountain, doing so would be terribly embarrassing and cause a scene. Lena didn’t wish that experience on anyone.

The squint of the woman’s eyes made Lena wonder if her vision was somehow impaired. Her chaperone seemed oblivious to the potential risk. She spoke to her charge but kept her gaze fixed on something in the distance, perhaps the refreshment table. Then she walked away, leaving the young woman alone. The lady took another step back, bumping into the fountain wall before teetering alarmingly.

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