Chapter Four

CHAPTER FOUR

L ucian Banks, the Duke of Grovemont, had been reclining in a large, leather chair in Southbury’s study for the better part of half an hour. He was enjoying some of Southbury’s finest brandy. Alone. Nearly in the dark. Which was his preferred company lately. Tonight was one of the first times he’d ventured back into Society since his mother’s death last summer.

The previous nine months still seemed completely unreal to Lucian. He’d loved his mother fiercely. Discovering she’d become unexpectedly ill with a weak heart had been a blow. Her untimely death was something from which he would not soon recover.

Lucian had never cared much for Society events, and this Season he cared even less. His mother had adored all the parties and dinners and dancing and fêtes . He smiled wryly. She would have loved it here tonight.

Mama and Griffin Brooks’s mother, the recently made dowager Duchess of Southbury, had been thick as thieves. And Lucian was a friend to both Southbury and his new brother-in-law, the Marquess of Trentham. Which was the only reason Lucian was here tonight. To wish his friend and his new bride well. He was happy for Southbury. And the man was obviously in love.

Lucian settled back into the chair and expelled his breath. Soon, he would have to do the same thing Southbury had done—take a wife. For on his mother’s deathbed, Lucian had promised her that he would, indeed, finally find a wife and settle down. He would produce the Grovemont heir as she’d always wanted. He only wished his mother would be here. Not only to meet the young lady of his choosing, but also to meet his future son. He swallowed hard. Damn. It hurt to even have that thought. Mama would never meet her grandson . His chest tightened.

Lucian tossed back the rest of the brandy in the glass. It was his own fault for waiting so long to marry. He was thirty years old already. And no amount of brandy would turn back the clock. He would have to live with that regret the rest of his days.

Frankly, he’d arrived here tonight with the intention of taking a closer look at this year’s crop of debutantes. He’d gone to a few parties earlier in the Season with the same inclination. But most of the young ladies were huddled together against the wall. Having avoided it like the pox for most of his adult life, Lucian didn’t know much about the marriage mart, but he knew enough from Mama’s stories to know that one didn’t look for one’s wife among the wallflowers.

Tonight, he’d arrived to find the same confounding situation. Almost all the young ladies were packed together against the far wall like a herd of frightened sheep. Even at Southbury’s wedding ball. So odd. Lucian had glanced over the lot of them, only to find there was nary a one who caught his interest. They all seemed like a timid lot, not making eye contact with him and outright shying away when he’d strode near them to get a better look. Was he that intimidating? Lord save him from simpering maidens. He preferred a young woman who’d look him in the eye at the very least. Was that too much to hope for?

There had been only one young lady—one with blond hair and a pinched face—who had stared at him so pointedly he’d been loath to glance in her direction again. Something about her determined look made him hie off in the opposite direction. Quickly.

The bridal prospects were not particularly promising. Which was why he’d taken his leave of the cacophony in the ballroom to enjoy a drink in the quiet of Southbury’s study.

Lucian scrubbed a hand through his hair. Should he pour himself another brandy? Probably not. He’d been poor enough company tonight as it was. He didn’t need to add being a drunkard. He should simply wish his friend Southbury well once more and go home. He lived just around the corner. It would be a short walk.

Lucian stood and expelled his breath again. His mission to find a wife this Season would not be a particularly pleasant one. But he would go about it in a logical manner. The same way he did everything. He’d put together a mental list of the most promising unmarried ladies, pay a call on each of them, and see which was the least uninteresting and most pleasing to look at. Because most of them seemed uninteresting, honestly. His wife might as well be beautiful. Beautiful and interesting seemed far too much to hope for, given the ladies he’d seen to date. He shuddered to think of a lifetime leg-shackled to a woman who couldn’t carry on an intelligent conversation with him. How had Southbury managed to find Meredith? Had his friend succeeded in marrying the last beautiful, interesting lady in the ton ? A depressing thought, that.

At any rate, there would be plenty of time over the remainder of the Season to pick through the debutantes for the least skittish, best-looking one of the lot. Though he did not relish the task. Tonight, however, it was time to take his leave.

And he would…in a moment. He stared out over the desk, lost in thought.

“There you are,” came a voice from the slightly open doorway.

The voice shook him from his thoughts. Narrowing his eyes, Lucian stood and made his way to the door. When he pulled it open all the way, a tall, thin, coltish-looking young lady stood there staring at him as if she knew him.

A look akin to relief covered her face. A face that had features that were far too large but somehow still compelling. Her dark eyes were particularly alert and intelligent.

Lucian frowned. She’d said, “There you are.” He fought the urge to look behind him. He was the only one in the study. She’d been looking for him? That was odd.

She quickly stepped inside and closed the door, causing him to step back. He narrowed his eyes on her, taking in her frame from the top of her head, which was a mass of short, dark messy curls, to the bottom of her extremely expensive light-pink gown that skimmed the floor. She wore an exquisite diamond necklace but, curiously, no earbobs. She was tall and quite thin. The effect being that she seemed a mass of arms and legs. But it was her eyes that made the deepest impression. Expressive, dark, and huge. Almost too big for her face. Intent and full of curiosity and intelligence.

He didn’t have long to contemplate the gangly girl because she immediately said, “Your Grace,” and bobbed a quick curtsy to him.

Deeply ingrained manners caused Lucian to bow immediately, but the frown remained on his face. Why was she acting as if they knew each other? He’d never seen her before. He was certain of it. She looked quite young, but if he’d seen her in the flock of debutantes earlier, he would have remembered her. This young lady didn’t have a farthing’s worth of retiring shyness in her body. If she’d been there, she would have been standing in front of the herd.

And she looked him directly in the eye.

“Good evening, Miss… Miss…” He’d never had an unknown young woman accost him in a study before. Or anywhere else for that matter. She should have been introduced to him formally by either her mother or another older lady who knew them both.

“First,” the young lady continued in a rush, completely failing to offer her name, “I should like to say how very sorry I am about your mother’s death. She was quite a nice lady, and I’m certain you’re still ever so sad, even though you’re back in Society.”

Lucian’s frown deepened. She knew his mother? “Thank you.”

“I know we shouldn’t be alone together,” the young woman hastily continued, “but I need to quickly ask if you’ll do me the honor of dancing with me.”

Lucian stared at her as if she’d just walked out of the pages of a book. A strange sort of book with unpredictable young ladies with large, dark eyes who asked impertinent, unexpected questions. “Pardon?” Had he heard her correctly? She was asking him to dance? They weren’t even in the ballroom. And again, he hadn’t been privy to the intricacies of the marriage mart, but he was fairly certain gentlemen were supposed to do the asking. This was all quite strange.

“If you’ll just say no, I’ll be on my way,” she rattled on.

“Wait. What?” Lucian took a step closer to her. Perhaps, if he heard her more clearly, her words might make more sense. “You’re asking me to dance and telling me to refuse you?”

What was happening? Was this young woman mad? Did she require a doctor’s care? And where on earth was her mother? She shouldn’t be roaming Southbury’s house alone asking gentlemen she did not know to dance. Quite imprudent of her.

She waved a clearly impatient gloved hand in the air. “Oh, I’m sorry. I forgot that part. You see? I was dared to ask you to dance. So I’m here, asking you.” She met his gaze straight on, and again he was struck by the mesmerizing depth of her eyes as well as her forthrightness. “Will you dance with me?” she finished with a kind of half-smile that would have been endearing had she not completely confused him. Her latest explanation hadn’t cleared up much of anything.

Lucian scratched his cheek while he contemplated the matter. He’d had a bit to drink this evening, but he wasn’t so foxed he was imagining this young woman and her fathomless eyes accosting him in this study… Was he?

“Who are you?” he asked again, hoping she would take heed that he still had no knowledge of her identity. Of course, he wasn’t about to dance with a madwoman in a room devoid of music, and he had absolutely no idea what she meant about a dare. But the more important thing at the moment was learning who she was so he could escort her back to her mother if necessary. Or perhaps he should leave her here and go in search of her mother to fetch her. Yes. That was probably the wisest course.

“Honestly, it doesn’t matter who I am,” she said, rolling her eyes with impatience that was nearly tangible. “A simple no will suffice, and I’ll be gone.” She pointed back toward the door with a gloved finger.

Lucian blinked at her. Was it truly that simple? Would she leave if he only said no? Perhaps he was overcomplicating the matter. “No then,” he said. No doubt it was rude of him to imply he wanted her gone, but with the insane way she was acting, he couldn’t even pretend to wish to remain in her company. Of course, he’d been raised to be far more mannerly than this, but it seemed prudent to see to it that this young woman leave as soon as possible.

True to her promise, she merely nodded, an oddly satisfied look on her face. She turned toward the door, ostensibly to leave. The distinct sound of female laughter echoed in the corridor. Still frowning, Lucian pulled open the door to see the same petite, pinched-face blond girl he’d noticed staring at him in the ballroom earlier. A chill ran through him. She stood in front of the door, smirking and laughing.

Lucian narrowed his eyes on her. The same urge he’d had earlier to hurry away from her overtook him. This entire affair was becoming increasingly strange with each passing moment. What precisely did this blond young lady have to do with the dark-eyed young lady’s odd dance request? A skitter of apprehension traced its way up Lucian’s spine. Here were two young women, obviously unchaperoned, waylaying him in the study where he’d come to find peace. This was precisely the type of thing Mama had warned him about years ago.

“ Some young ladies will stop at nothing to force a marriage proposal ,” Mama had said. “ As a bachelor duke, you must ensure you do nothing to encourage them or facilitate such an encounter .”

Tonight, he’d let down his guard. He’d been tired from a long trip from the countryside yesterday, sad as usual about Mama’s death, and disheartened by the thought of trying to find a wife within a group of debutantes who looked to be wholly panic-stricken by him. And besides, he wasn’t at a ton ball tonight. This ball wasn’t part of the Season. It was Southbury’s wedding ball, for Christ’s sake.

But that hardly mattered. Lucian needed to get out of here. Quickly .

The dark-eyed young woman was already ahead of him, however. She’d picked up her skirts and stepped toward the door as she said, “You heard him, Mary. Remember your promise.”

That strange statement sent alarm coursing through his veins. Promise? What promise?

Still standing in the corridor, pinched-faced Mary opened her mouth to speak just as an older female voice rang out from behind her. “Lady Mary Costner, just what are you doing?”

Mary swiveled on her heel as a woman with a similarly pinched face, who Lucian could only assume was her mother, stepped closer.

“Mama! Noooooo!”