Chapter 7

CHAPTER 7

“ I ’m glad we found the time for this walk this morning,” said Duke Maxwell, glancing over Duke Frederick’s shoulder to check how far behind the ladies were walking and finding Lady Penelope and Lady Annabelle at a safe distance. “While I very much enjoy the company of your sister, I did also hope for the opportunity to speak with you.”

“Did you?” replied the blond man, his blue eyes hardening warily in a way that Maxwell respected.

As Charles and Madeleine had assured him, Duke Frederick did have more substance to him than most of the young men in his set. While his present life seemed rather aimless and pleasure-seeking, he was the type of man who might achieve something great if he actually set his mind to a goal.

“Yes. Having spoken to both Mr. Jones and Duke Charles, it seemed the right thing to do. When you removed the drug paraphernalia from Lord Silverbrook’s room, you were observed.”

Duke Frederick flushed angrily.

“What? Does Duke Charles have the servants spying on his guests?”

“Not at all,” Maxwell cut him off quickly. “You are simply unused to deceit of that sort, and your actions were obvious. Both the physician and Duke Charles himself were in the room with you at the time, remember. You believed yourself unseen, but you were wrong.”

The younger man swore.

“I just didn’t want Henry to get into any more trouble. Duke Charles was already fuming over the incident, and he doesn’t tolerate that kind of practice, as you know. I thought it would make everyone’s lives easier if I took the stuff away.”

“Duke Charles wants to know what you did with it. I thought I would save you both the embarrassment of his having to ask you directly. It is not something he wants in his house.”

“I threw the whole damned lot straight in the bins!” Duke Frederick declared. “I haven’t kept it for myself if that’s what he’s thinking. I wouldn’t touch the stuff. If he doesn’t believe me, he can search my room, and I’ll leave tomorrow.”

“No one suspects you of anything more than being a good friend to Lord Silverbrook,” Maxwell assured him. “There will be no searching or early departures. Madeline and Charles hope that you will visit Huntingdon Manor on many future occasions — but without your friend.”

Duke Frederick nodded somewhat moodily.

“I knew I shouldn’t have brought Henry, but he wanted to come here so badly for some reason,” he confessed. “The Duke and Duchess of Huntingdon always throw such great house parties, I suppose. When they asked if I wanted to bring any company, I gave them his name. I also hoped he might divert Penelope a little while I was…otherwise engaged.”

“Lady Gordney is a fine woman,” commented Maxwell in neutral tones, showing no judgment. “There is no more to be said on the matter. I shall assure Charles that the drugs are gone, and no more will be brought into his house other than under the authority of a physician or apothecary.”

“Very well. But there is something more to be said between us.”

Having spent the last few minutes at a disadvantage, Duke Frederick now recovered his aplomb admirably.

“Then I am at your service, Duke Frederick.”

“What are your intentions towards my sister, Walden? It is not lost on me that you have singled her out for attention since your arrival. I warn you now not to trifle with Penelope’s affections or reputation. There would be consequences for that.”

“My intentions are entirely honorable,” Maxwell promised while trying to banish the vivid images of Penelope in his arms, her lips responding eagerly to his, or so nearly resting her head on his bare chest. “I, too, have a younger sister and understand your defense of Lady Penelope’s person and wellbeing.”

They were betrothed, he told himself, if still secretly. There was surely nothing truly dishonorable in making Penelope look forward to sharing his bed. Still, he felt a twinge of guilt at how close he had come to losing control on two occasions in Penelope’s company. It would not have been honorable to have deflowered a young woman before their wedding.

“Good. But you have still not answered my question, Duke Maxwell. What exactly are your intentions? If Penelope herself wished it, a formal courtship might be possible. But there can be no secrecy or appearance of impropriety to stain her character and prospects.”

“I can only state again that my intentions towards your sister are of the highest order. Let me think further on the matter today, and we shall speak again at the ball tonight.”

“Very well,” said Duke Frederick after a pause, not entirely happy but accepting that he was unlikely to get any clearer answer at the present time. “We shall speak this evening.”

“We should wait here for the ladies,” Maxwell suggested, halting on the path and looking back towards Penelope and Annabelle, no keener than Duke Frederick to prolong the present conversation.

The rest of the day passed all too quickly, bringing the evening’s ball and the announcement of their marriage closer and closer.

While the Duke of Walden already knew exactly what he planned to say — to Frederick, to Charles and Madeline, and to anyone else who asked — his blood still pumped strongly in his veins at the thought of the tasks ahead.

Maxwell was not actually nervous. He was more geared up for action, like a military commander preparing a dash to plant a flag in uncharted territory. He knew he must keep his wits about him and be ready for the unexpected if he were to achieve his goal and win Lady Penelope as his wife.

“The blue sapphire cufflinks, Greene,” he calmly directed his valet while dressing. “And the matching pin for my stock.”

“Very good, Your Grace. They will go well with your waistcoat,” agreed the man, extracting the relevant box from a drawer in the wardrobe and offering it to his master. “The silver watch too?”

Maxwell nodded, allowing Greene to fasten his sleeves and then fixing his own pocket watch as he liked it.

A glance in the looking glass revealed a tall, imposing figure in a dark suit and deep blue waistcoat. The waves of his golden-brown hair were combed into submission, and his eyes were glowing with secretive determination.

Whatever happened tonight, whatever questions Duke Frederick might raise, and whatever happened with Lord Silverbrook, the Duke of Walden intended to triumph. He had no intention of letting Lady Penelope Hayward slip through his fingers.

It was a little after eight o’clock when Maxwell descended the main staircase and made his way to the ballroom. Charles and Madeline were already present in the main anteroom, welcoming those guests arriving from the neighborhood or visiting from London for a single night. He only smiled briefly to them in passing, not wishing to disturb their duties as hosts.

Making his way into the main ballroom, Maxwell joined a group of house party guests by the conservatory door and accepted a glass of champagne from a passing waiter.

“Duke Charles always has excellent wines,” commented Lady Gordney, sipping her drink while her lively green eyes searched the various doorways, presumably seeking the still-absent Lord Frederick.

“Yes, and I do love champagne,” Lady Annabelle sighed, standing beside Lady Gordney. “I wish I could have it with breakfast, luncheon, and dinner.”

“My grandmother would disapprove of that sentiment heartily,” laughed young Lord Parkinson. “However, as she also disapproves of evening entertainments in general and is presently tucked up in bed with a hot toddy, we do not have to concern ourselves with her views.”

Maxwell positioned himself near Lady Gordney and let the conversation flow around him, contributing only smiles and nods to the general chatter. The expression on the red-haired woman’s face would tell him when Duke Frederick arrived without the effort of scanning the room himself. He could then speak to Penelope’s brother immediately.

Still, it was another quarter-hour before Lady Gordney’s face finally lit up in a welcoming smile for the tall blond man now entering the ballroom with his younger sister on his arm. Turning to follow his fellow guest’s line of sight, Maxwell found his breath rushing from his body with the sight of Lady Penelope.

God, she was beautiful! Tonight, she was in white silk embroidered with gold, her fair tresses embellished with tiny white flowers and subtle gold pins.

While still modestly cut, befitting an unmarried young woman, Lady Penelope’s gown was lower than typical day dresses. In the absence of a necklace or pendant, there was nothing to mar the perfect swell of her pale breasts above the neckline. Maxwell’s mouth ran dry as he gazed upon her. How well her bosom would mold to the cupping of his hand as he kissed her…

Then, he checked himself severely. Such a loss of self-control could not be borne tonight, especially after what had occurred in the rose garden that afternoon. Lady Penelope’s hunger had seemed equal to his own, and she could, therefore, not be relied upon to rein him in a second time.

There was a deal to be closed here at Huntingdon Manor, coolly, calmly, and with a clear head, the way Maxwell had always worked. He had initially thought of Penelope’s physical attractions as a bonus in his scheme but was growing increasingly aware that they were also a potential complication.

He was certainly looking for a quick marriage but a respectable and advantageous match, not some notorious patched-up wedding to cover a scandal, which is where matters could end if he compromised Penelope here at Huntington Manor.

Duke Frederick had also made his feelings on respectful courtship clear, and Maxwell did not intend to antagonize the man unnecessarily. He had already realized that he was staring a little more than was polite.

“Lady Penelope, you dazzle my eyes, and those of the entire assembly,” he said, covering any hint of impropriety with a formal compliment and a small bow. “Between you and Lady Gordney, I believe half the gentlemen present will be blinded tonight.”

“Too true,” agreed Duke Frederick, his eyes fixed firmly on the face of Lady Gordney and apparently unbothered or unaware of Maxwell’s excessive attentiveness to Penelope.

“Before you settle yourself, Duke Frederick, I must request five minutes of your time,” Maxwell said swiftly before Lady Gordney could capture her paramour.

The momentary disappointment was replaced by alertness in Duke Frederick’s eyes.

“Of course, Duke Maxwell. I will leave you here with Lady Annabelle, Penelope. Do not let her lead you astray.”

This last admonishment was spoken in jest with a wink at Penelope’s small, plump friend. It drew from Lady Annabelle the exact squeak of indignant protest that Maxwell supposed Frederick had intended.

He drew Duke Frederick aside into the conservatory, which was currently empty so early in the evening.

“I won’t beat around the bush, Duke Frederick,” opened Maxwell. “I wish to marry your sister, Lady Penelope. I believe she will have me, and I desire her family’s blessing.”

It was a polite but bald declaration, making his intentions and respect clear but also subtly communicating to the Duke of Hayward that the marriage itself was not up for negotiation. Maxwell Crawford intended to marry Lady Penelope with or without Duke Frederick’s assent, but he would prefer to have it.

“Why?” Duke Frederick demanded suspiciously. “This is not entirely unexpected, given the events of recent days, but it is still overly quick in my view. Why should you wish to marry Lady Penelope? And why should I support such a move?”

“As I also told Lady Penelope, I believe she would make the perfect Duchess of Walden. She has beauty, intelligence, and breeding. As a brother-in-law, I offer all the advantages of title, fortune, and reputation. Duke Charles can give you my character if you have any doubts.”

“Is that all?”

“All?” Maxwell puzzled, wondering what the other man meant.

“I should hate to see Penelope made unhappy by any man,” Duke Frederick explained with feeling. “She is a grown woman, of course, but she is still my younger sister. I insist on a thorough marriage contract to protect her interests and future.”

“Naturally,” Maxwell agreed quickly. “Our lawyers can begin work on the contract immediately. I have already alerted my own to this possibility, and they stand ready for your contact. My agents stand ready to obtain the necessary marriage license once they have my instruction.”

“You really do plan every step, don’t you?” Duke Frederick marveled, not purely with admiration. “But what about human feeling? Tell me, Duke Maxwell, do you even like Penelope?”

“How could you doubt it?” Maxwell said automatically, these words coming as a surprise even to himself.

Like her? If he did not control himself, he could quite imagine himself being consumed by his feelings for Lady Penelope Hayward, at least physically. Like didn’t even begin to describe the intensity of what he felt around her. She drove him wild, and all the signs were there that he had the same effect on her. It was a highly combustible mixture.

“I believe we are well-suited in temperament,” he added in a measured tone, but Duke Frederick was already nodding.

“Very well. Then if Penelope herself is indeed in agreement, we will begin work on the marriage contract tomorrow.”

“You can speak to Lady Penelope now, and I will then announce our intentions tonight,” Maxwell stated decidedly.

“I suppose that makes sense,” Frederick said slowly with a slight frown. “But I must send word to her mother straight away. It would be unforgivable to let her hear the news from idle gossip.”

After reaching an agreement, the two men returned to the ballroom. Frederick strode ahead, straight to his sister’s side, and whispered something in her ear.

Maxwell saw her look up towards him and nod to Duke Frederick with a grave and slightly tremulous face. Taking this as his cue, he joined the pair.

“Penelope tells me that she is very satisfied with the match, and I cannot think of any reason to oppose it,” said Duke Frederick with a slightly baffled shrug. “As long as the contract is satisfactory, you may therefore please yourselves.”

A flash of hurt showed briefly on Penelope’s face at her brother’s words, which Maxwell had to admit sounded rather casual. If he had not seen Frederick's concern for his sister in the conservatory and on their walk today, he could easily have believed that the young duke did not care for Penelope at all.

But whatever misunderstandings and half-buried feelings lay between the siblings, they were no part of Maxwell’s plan tonight, and he moved quickly onto his next steps.

“In that case, Lady Penelope, if you allow me, I would like to formally announce our betrothal tonight.”

Lady Penelope nodded a second time, this time to Maxwell.

“Yes, I think that is a good idea. You could ask Charles and Madeline to say something too once all the guests have arrived.”

“Well, my congratulations to the pair of you,” laughed Frederick lightly, raising his glass. “This party has certainly given us its share of surprises.”

“Congratulations?” Lady Gordney queried, coming over then to lay a hand on Duke Frederick’s arm, asserting her claim to him and making clear her intention to steal him away as soon as the dancing began.

“Yes, Caroline. My sister is to marry Duke Maxwell. We have just agreed matters.”

Lady Gordney’s striking face broke into a radiant smile. She had evidently expected some dull family business to keep Frederick from her and distract him. Instead, this was cause for celebration.

“Congratulations, Your Grace, Lady Penelope! How marvelous! When will the wedding be…?”

These audible questions began to draw a small circle of interested parties, all drawn in by the revelation they had just half-heard. Before either Maxwell or Penelope could answer such questions, a gangly young footman appeared at the Duke of Walden’s shoulder.

“Excuse me, Your Grace, but I have an urgent private message for you. I was instructed to bring you at once.”