Chapter Two

"I am so excited that Madame Dumas will be making up my entire Season's wardrobe," Ada gushed at the breakfast table. "Mama says she is the most exclusive modiste in town and rarely takes on a new client."

Malcolm only listened to his sister with half an ear. They had arrived in town yesterday, coming over a month before the actual Season began because of the extensive wardrobe his sister would require for making her come-out. He had the necessary funds and did not mind spending them on Ada. She was very dear to him. He simply did not like being in town so early. At Waterside, he always seemed to have things to accomplish. London was another kettle of fish.

His father had passed away a few weeks before Malcolm had finished at Oxford. The dons had all agreed that since he was such an excellent student, they would award him his degree. It had allowed him to go straight to Waterside and take up his new duties as the Duke of Waterbury.

He had not known how frail his father was until he returned home from his studies at Oxford, with only a final year left in his studies. It seemed as if overnight the duke had aged and grown shaky, constantly out of breath, his balance fragile. Returning to university a last time, he had awakened every morning, hoping this would not be the day he received news that his father was gone.

It did surprise him that Waterbury had passed away at Waterside instead of in town. His parents had always gone to the Season for as long as he could remember. Mama had gone without her husband that particular year, though, and so word had also been sent to her to return to Kent for the funeral. It appalled Malcolm how put out she had been, vocalizing how she would have to go into mourning and miss the rest of that Season.

Since he became the duke at so young an age, Malcolm had never spent several years in town as many young men did, carousing and sowing his wild oats. He thought of London beyond the events of the Season as being nothing more than a playground for young bachelors to gamble, drink, and wench. When he attended the Season with Mama a few years ago, wishing to find a bride, he had dutifully attended the events in search of his duchess, skipping out on how other bachelors spent their time.

"Did you hear me, Malcolm?" Ada demanded.

He turned to his sister. "I was woolgathering. I must admit talk of gowns and how many buttons a spencer should have, and the number of hats required of a lady had me turning to other things."

Ada smiled indulgently at him. "I was asking about the first ball. I will need you to introduce me to all your friends so that they might dance with me."

Malcolm had no friends.

Outsiders would never have guessed that. Oh, he knew a great many people from his schooldays and had an abundance of acquaintances. Everyone his entire life remarked upon what a true leader he was. Decisive. Responsible. Confident. A man who always was aware of his destiny and followed through with his promises. Malcolm simply was the best at everything he did, from academics to sports to riding and dancing. Everything came effortlessly to him and always had.

And yet because of that, the majority of his classmates had been envious of him. Yes, everyone wanted him on their team, to earn the necessary points—but when all was said and done, they paired off in twos and threes, going their own way with their friends.

Leaving him alone.

His tutors praised him at every turn, which only increased his alienation from his other schoolmates, and their jealousy grew. It was as if all wanted to be his friend—but none were. It had caused him to grow to be very detached around others. He put a smile on his face and was friendly to everyone who crossed his path. He cheered on others and rewarded them with slaps on the back and a shake of the hand.

But in reality, he kept to himself. He thought it prepared him for the future, when he would be the Duke of Waterbury. His father was cold and distant from all others, including his own family, and Malcolm grew up believing that was the way things should be. He merely had been set upon that path at an early age. Yet he grimaced inwardly, thinking of how disastrous that line of thinking had been and what a terrible husband he had made.

"Of course, Waterbury will introduce you around, Ada," Mama said.

He almost snorted, knowing she had no idea about anything of his growing up or private life.

Then again, as obsequious as his classmates had been when they wanted to gain his favor, Malcolm could only imagine how magnified their behavior would be since he was now a duke. Three Seasons ago, when he had found his wife in Imogen, he had only attended a handful of social events and had never gone to White's or any gaming hells with anyone he knew. Even then, making only rare appearances, others had practically groveled at his feet.

This time, he would be attending a majority of the hosted events because of Ada. He also wanted more time to peruse the Marriage Mart. Mama had made the choice of his bride the previous time. Despite what she thought, Malcolm intended to take matters into his own hands and make that decision himself this time around. He would need to get to know some of these eligible young ladies before he committed to one of them. She would need to take the title of being his duchess seriously. He realized how Imogen had been too immature to do so. While he did not expect a worldly bride, this second marriage would require a woman who could at least hold a decent conversation, both with him and others in Polite Society.

Trying to relax, he told Ada, "I am acquainted with a good number of gentlemen. It has been a few years since I have been around Polite Society, though. I will introduce you to as many appropriate gentlemen as I can, but I will also be asking questions behind the scenes to ascertain if they are good enough for you or not."

The same would be true of his bride. Malcolm would not be rushed this time. He would find a suitable duchess by the end of the Season and wed her. He hoped the same would be true of Ada and that she might possibly wed by Season's end. He wanted his sister's husband to be a man of good character, have no debt, and be respectful to Ada. If it took hiring a Bow Street runner to investigate the backgrounds of Ada's more serious prospects, then he was not above doing so.

His answer seemed to please his sister.

"Thank you, Waterbury," she said, her smile wide. "I worry that there will be so many pretty girls making their come-outs. That no one will wish to dance with me, and I will be relegated to sit with the wallflowers, tapping my toes to the music instead of actually dancing."

He shook his head. "First, you are one of those pretty girls, Ada. Second, Mama will tell you that you are the sister to a duke. You will have absolutely no problem attracting gentlemen. It will be up to me to weed out those who are paying attention to you for your dowry, and I will send those men packing."

Ada frowned, her worry obvious. "Oh, I had not thought about someone only wanting me for my fortune, Malcolm. That is most troublesome."

"As I said, let me handle your suitors. All are free to call—but they will always have to speak with me before they do you. I will purge your group of suitors, eliminating those whom I believe to be avaricious or untrustworthy. Only the best will do for my sister."

She leaped to her feet and flung her arms about his neck. "Thank you, Malcolm. I am grateful to have you looking after me." She gazed at him. "I will also help you to find a bride."

"That is not necessary, Ada," he said crisply.

"Oh, but it is," she declared. "I am certain to get to know the girls in my come-out class, and I will be able to let you know if they are shallow gossips or if they have some substance to them." Grinning, she added, "I will be your spy, rooting out those who would merely wish to wed you so that they might become a duchess, and informing you which ladies you might find to be strong candidates."

He couldn't help but laugh. "Ah, poppet, you do my heart good. We shall help one another, then. Hopefully by the end of this Season, two betrothals will be announced, with two weddings taking place."

Mama snorted. "And what of my role in these important matters? Am I a cipher in all this? I would expect that you would clamor for my opinion. After all, I am your mother. I will be full of good advice and direct you to whom I deem acceptable spouses."

Quickly, so as to appease Mama and her quick temper, Malcolm said, "Ah, Mama will be ever so helpful to you, Ada. She will be able to tell you which color of gown looks best on you and what hat and reticule you should make part of your ensemble. She will know which hairstyle is most becoming, and she will chaperone you every afternoon as your many suitors come to call. Mama is quite discerning. She will be of great help in finding you a husband."

He made certain to leave out that she would not be helping him to choose his new wife.

His words seem to soothe her, and talk turned again to gowns and things Malcolm had no interest in.

Rising, he said, "If you will excuse me. I have things to do."

"You will not escort us to the modiste?" Mama said, clearly put out with him.

Irritated, he tried not to show it. "Would you like me to do so, Mama? I merely thought you would be at the dressmaker's shop for several hours, looking at materials and making your selections. I would not be helpful in the slightest."

His mother considered that. "Then take us to Madame Dumas' shop and see us inside. Go and do as you wish after that, but return for us in three hours' time. That should be long enough to see things are started in the proper fashion."

"Very well. When is your appointment?" he asked.

"We are to be there at ten o'clock."

Mama told him where the shop was located, and Malcolm said they could leave at half-past nine.

He went to his study and first made a list of things he wished to discuss with Mr. Pace, his solicitor. After doing so, he composed a note to Pace, asking for an appointment tomorrow morning in order to discuss these items with him. Malcolm made a copy and thoughtfully included the list in his note, ringing for Williams and asking the butler to have a footman deliver the note to Pace's office.

"Shall he wait for a reply, Your Grace?" Williams asked.

"Yes, see that he does. I am requesting to see Mr. Pace tomorrow morning. If that is not convenient, I want to know when I can visit with him."

That accomplished, Malcolm flipped through the first of the invitations which had already arrived for the first week of the Season. As usual, there would be an opening ball as the inaugural event of the festivities. This year, it would be hosted by Lord and Lady Simmons. He combed through his memory, thinking Lord Simmons was two or three years older than he was. If it was the same man, he had gone to Eton with Malcolm but then chosen to further his studies at Cambridge. Lord Simmons had also become betrothed the same year Malcolm had. He recalled the future Lady Simmons being friendly and polite. That was more the type of woman he hoped to wed by Season's end.

He combed through the rest of the invitations, seeing the usual events occurring that first week. Obviously, more would be received as the Season drew near. He set aside the stack, thinking he would give these to Mama after they came home from their errands today and let her respond to them. It would give her something to do and less time to dwell on the wife she thought she would be choosing for him.

What he would do while his mother and sister discussed gowns still puzzled him. He supposed he should go to White's. It was the place to see and be seen by gentlemen of the ton . Malcolm had only visited it a handful of times the year he had come to town. It was a place he could peruse the morning newspapers and gossip with others or, in his case, be left alone. He would do his best to appear the very essence of a duke and hope others might leave him in peace.

Then again, this might be the very place he would need to seek out others because of Ada making her come-out. If he could get to know a few of the bachelors before the Season began, he might steer her toward the ones he approved of. Yes, he would definitely go to White's. He assumed his membership had continued during his absence from town, his club fees paid by Mr. Pace. If that were not the case, surely White's would not turn down a duke wishing to spend a bit of leisurely time within its walls. He could then see that Pace paid any outstanding fees if they were due.

Hearing the clock chime, he knew it was time to meet Mama and Ada in the foyer and went there. Though he had not informed Barker he was going out, the well-informed valet held out Malcolm's hat and walking cane to him.

Ada floated down the stairs, but they waited a good ten more minutes for his mother. He had yet to see her ever be on time, and that stuck in his craw. Once the Season began, he would make certain that he was quite clear on the time to leave. It would be leave when he wished—or be left behind.

Chuckling to himself at what her reaction to that statement might be, he saw her coming down the stairs. Still attractive for her age—and still highly opinionated about every topic introduced. Malcolm decided a private chat with Mama would be in order soon, not only to discuss leaving for engagements at the appropriate time but informing her of his decision to select a bride of his own choosing.

Without her interference.

As they got into his carriage, he decided he knew why Mama had wanted his escort. She wanted to be seen pulling up in the ducal carriage. He knew it had put her nose out of joint when he wed and she had become known as the Dowager Duchess of Waterbury. If anything, Mama thrived on the prestige that came from being a duchess. If this modiste was as exclusive as Mama claimed, she would want to be seen arriving in style.

They reached the modiste's shop, which was located in a fashionable part of town. Malcolm handed down Mama first and then Ada. He offered an arm to each and took them inside the dress shop. There, Madame Dumas fussed over the pair, in effect, dismissing him. He wanted to remind the dressmaker that he would be the one paying the bills she submitted, but would not be so petty.

He left without a goodbye, seeing another carriage had pulled up to the same destination. As he moved to his own vehicle and ordered his driver to head to White's, he saw a tall, handsome man of about forty years of age step from the carriage, handing down a handsome woman with hair the color of honey. She was quite petite when compared to him and while close to the man in age, still a beauty.

Just as Malcolm's footman opened the door to his carriage, another passenger descended. She was tall for a woman, thin, with a small waist and small, high breasts. He thought her quite pretty and assumed she was the daughter of the pair.

As he settled against the cushions and the carriage began to roll, Malcolm wondered if the girl might be making her come-out this Season.

And if she were still at the modiste's shop when he returned for his mother and sister, so much the better.