The Duke She Wished For Page 2

  “Now we are ready.”

  Tabitha and Tillie left the shop and Tabitha locked the door behind her.

  They walked the two long blocks to Denton’s, a stabling station for people who could afford it. When the carriage was ready, Tillie and Tabitha climbed in and enjoyed the long ride toward the grand manse of the former Duke of Stowe, His Grace, Lord Reginald Fairchild. Lord Reginald had died unexpectedly almost two years prior and his wife, Lady Gemma, was slowly coming back out into polite society. As such, she found her wardrobe to be a bit outdated and on a recommendation her lady’s maid had found her way into Tabitha’s shop for the first time two months ago for a simple hat, which had turned into the most recent repeat order.

  Nearly an hour later, they rolled to a stop in front of the Fairchild home and Tabitha sucked a breath through her lips.

  “Wow,” she said as Tillie giggled beside her.

  “You have that right,” her friend replied.

  The home was large, bedecked in white marble, and had four giant marble columns across the front of it. There was a small pond in the middle of the circle drive they took to reach the front door and Tabitha counted an army of gardeners toiling away in preparation for what was likely going to be a few days’ worth of guests and revelry.

  When they were greeted by the doorman, Tabitha gave her name and asked for Mr. McEwan. They waited a few brief moments before the older gentleman appeared and showed them inside.

  To say the inside matched the outside in grandeur was putting it lightly and it was all Tabitha could do not to let her mouth hang agog as they tried to keep pace with the steward.

  “Very kind of you to make this happen, Miss Blackmore,” the man said as he practically sprinted with his short, quick strides down a long hallway toward the back of the house. They stayed with him as he turned down this hallway and that, past large, ornate doors, until they came to a corridor at the back of the home, where the doors were much simpler.

  “There now,” he said, as he pushed the first door open to reveal a small office. “They are here, darling. Just like I said they would be.”

  “Darling” turned out to be a smartly dressed woman with an ample bosom, bright cheeks, and kind green eyes. She looked to be somewhere in her 50s and from the warm smile she gave Mr. McEwan, Tabitha guess they were about to meet Mrs. McEwan.

  “Miss Tabitha Blackmore and Miss— my apologies,” Mr. McEwan looked flustered as he glanced at Tillie, who whispered her name good naturedly to him. “Miss Matilda Andrews. This is my wife, Lorna McEwan, the housekeeper here. I leave you with her as we have quite a few preparations we are overseeing. His Grace is due to arrive at any moment.”

  The steward flittered away, leaving Tabitha and Tillie standing in the doorway, feeling awkward. Lorna had a warm smile as she rounded the desk she’d been sitting behind and led them down the hall to what looked like a simple dining room housing a long table and chairs. She took some of the boxes from Tabitha and put them down on the table.

  “I was looking over a few of the accounts for Her Grace,” the woman muttered in a thick brogue. “But now, this is exciting. This is one of her first hosted parties since Lord Reginald passed away and I know she is very nervous about the whole thing.”

  Lorna began pulling the hats and fascinators from the box and tittering and clucking in appreciation.

  “I knew you’d come through for us, Miss Blackmore,” she said, mostly to herself. “You came highly recommended from Baron Wellesley’s daughters and I knew you would provide the best for Her Grace.”

  Tabitha blushed a little and Tillie pinched her lightly in the side at the compliments.

  “Are you her assistant?” Lorna asked Tillie, who simply shook her head.

  “She is a talented dressmaker,” Tabitha blurted out before she could think better of it. She heard Tillie gasp at her secret identity being outed so quickly, but Lorna didn’t look at all disapproving. In fact, she looked interested, so Tabitha pointed to the dress she was currently wearing.

  “This is one of hers,” she said, proud of her friend. “It is going to be a sample at Rochester’s but she insisted I wear it to deliver these.”

  Lorna gave the gown a steady gaze and smiled at her friend.

  “You’re very talented, Miss.”

  As Tillie was thanking her for the compliment, the door burst open with a train of three maids carrying two gowns each. Lorna instructed them to hang the dresses on hooks along one side of the wall.

  Six exquisite gowns were suddenly on display and she watched as Tillie took them all in, silently regarding every last detail on each one.

  Lorna stayed quiet a moment before speaking.

  “So,” she prodded. “Professional opinion, ladies?”

  With the hats on the table in front of the gowns, Tabitha realized what Lorna was asking. She wanted to know how they thought the gowns and the headwear matched up. As the last maid shut the door and left, Lorna looked to the ladies a second time.

  “Well?”

  After a moment of hesitation, both Tabitha and Tillie set upon the dresses and accessories, moving the feathers and ribbons around so that they paired up with the best gown. The housekeeper stepped back and watched as the two of them discussed ribbon shades and the texture of lace next to bright, fluffy feather plumes. When they were done, Lorna stepped forward, her eyes fixed on the ensembles they had put together with a smile on her face.

  “Exquisite,” she said reverently. “Absolutely exquisite. Do you happen to be free over the next two days?”

  She turned toward them as she asked.

  Tabitha didn’t answer immediately, but Tillie did.

  “I am supposed to leave with my mother in the morning for two weeks in Bath,” she said. “I’m actually running behind schedule as it is. We are dining with my uncle at his club in a few hours.”

  Lorna turned to Tabitha.

  “I am not sure,” she answered honestly. “I am not certain of what you are asking me right now?”

  Lorna cast a glance toward the gowns.

  “The next few weeks are important to Her Grace for many, many reasons,” she began. “First, she is venturing out of mourning and the eyes of her peers and contemporaries will be more than critical as she begins to immerse herself in the activities surrounding the season. I want her to shine, to put it bluntly, and none of her maids know a thing about dressing her to her station.”

  Tabitha could understand that. A duchess was expected to have an air of regality that none beyond the royal family would possess.

  “What’s more,” the woman continued. “Her son is expected to return this season and select a wife, so all eyes will be on His Grace as he moves through these parties and balls with an eye on the crowd for the next Duchess of Stowe.”

  Tabitha had heard rumors of Nicholas Fairchild, the latest Duke of Stowe. He was rumored to be a good-looking man who’d run wild in his younger days as the privileged sons of the elite were wont to do. He had managed to leave for France last year without a scandal chasing him out of town and as far as she understood, there wasn’t one from the Continent chasing him back into town.

  Either he was a well-behaved son of a duke or a very crafty duke who knew how to hide his indiscretions.

  Whatever the case may be, as the daughter of a merchant baronet, the duke was so very far out of her realm that he might as well have existed in an alternate universe. Tabitha was a realist if nothing else, and spent very little time as a girl reading about white knights and rescues. She was a woman making plans to rescue herself.

  “What I’m offering,” Lorna continued, pulling Tabitha back from her thoughts. “Is to pay for your services if you would agree to stay until tomorrow and make sure that the maids have Her Grace looking ravishing and heads above the rest. We need personal touches that it seems only the two of you can give. We shall pay you for your troubles. Handsomely.”

  Well, that did it. Handsomely, from the family of a duke, usually did mean handsome
ly, and that was money she needed to fund her schooling in Paris.

  “I can do it,” Tabitha said quickly, before she could change her mind. “I just need to send a message, letting my stepmother know I will no longer return until tomorrow evening.”

  Crafting an expeditious white lie, Tabitha sent word to her stepmother that she was visiting with Tillie’s family for the evening and would be back for supper the following day.

  The games were surely afoot now, Tabitha thought to herself as she allowed Lorna to show Tillie out and to lead her to her temporary rooms.

  3

  Lorna closed the door to the handsomely decorated guest room behind Tabitha, who felt slightly adrift without Tillie’s familiar and comforting presence beside her.

  “My husband has been watching you,” she began and Tabitha stilled. What on earth did that mean? “We both think you’re a kind, yet strong, good person and exactly who we are looking for.”

  Tabitha waited for her to continue. What an odd way of starting a conversation after an already-odd proposition.

  “This small job is more than just dressing Her Grace,” Lorna went on. “It was a barely hidden truth that her husband, Lord Reginald, was a man prone to his dalliances—some more notorious than others. Her Grace turned a blind eye for many reasons. She was stuck in the marriage no matter what, so what was the use of fighting for a man who wanted nothing more from her than an heir? And she had her son to protect. But she was humiliated and there are some in her circle, some she cannot avoid, who would love nothing more than to continually remind and humiliate Her Grace at any chance.”

  Tabitha blinked and drew in a breath.

  “That is awful, but I am unsure of how this has anything to do with me.”

  Lorna sat at the small writing desk and clasped her hands.

  “We are hoping that in addition to coordinating her ensembles, you can act as a sort of protector of Her Grace,” Lorna said. “Some of those gossipy little hornets will be here when her son returns and it is quite obvious that all eyes will be on her. We would not only like you to ensure she looks the elegant duchess that she is, but we were hoping you could do your best to shield Her Grace from potentially harmful situations. She is a very kind-hearted woman and if those despicable gossips get their talons in her and start dredging up the painful past, well, we are afraid that Her Grace might crumble and make a spectacle of herself that she would regret very much later.”

  Tabitha took a moment and looked up at the ceiling, considering her options.

  “This is the strangest job offer I have ever received, I shall have you know,” she muttered.

  “It’s the strangest position I have ever offered, I promise you that,” Lorna countered, making Tabitha smile.

  Tabitha sighed.

  “So, you need a wardrobe consultant and someone who will stand between these society women and Her Grace if they decide to unsheathe their claws? That is what you need from me?”

  Lorna nodded.

  “Are you not taking a bit of a risk on me? You hardly know me. What if fail miserably?”

  That made the older woman smile.

  “Bernard told me about the baron’s daughter who tried to cheat you out of your bill last month,” she said with a sly grin. “He had been waiting to deliver the order for Her Grace to you when he witnessed the encounter. You were firm yet tactful with her. You protected your business interests without any dramatics. We had been looking for someone like you, and you impressed him. We are hoping he is right.”

  Tabitha blew out a breath.

  “I certainly am, too,” she said. “I am the daughter of a merchant, Mrs. McEwan. I am not exactly well-practiced in the finer arts of society conversation and manners.”

  “Nonsense,” the woman pooh-poohed. “Bernard delved into your family’s history, trust me. Your father was a well-respected artisan and from what I hear, the two of you used to be quite the pair in polite society. Not quite peerage, but still. I have heard talk of the parties Sir Elias and his charming daughter threw.”

  Warmth spread in her chest at the memory of her father’s holiday parties. They were a tradition that she and the household staff looked forward to preparing each Christmas season. Obviously, the parties died when her father did.

  “I mentioned we will pay you,” Lorna went on. “I meant that. You will leave tomorrow with the equivalent of payment for ten bonnets. Consider this an investment and if you are successful we will invest more.”

  She had already agreed down in Lorna’s office, but the mention of a handsome price confirmed her resolve.

  Tabitha nodded.

  “Fine,” she said with a smile. “Provide me the details on who to watch out for, who to divert, and what I am supposed to wear.”

  Lorna stood and poked her head out the door, murmuring to someone down the hall. When she was finished, she shut the door again and resumed her seat, motioning for Tabitha to sit on the edge of the bed.

  “Our biggest concern is that of Lord Reginald’s former mistresses. There is one in particular who may seek to hurt Her Grace however she can. She is a horrid woman, but a baroness and so she is given access and invitations out of propriety. But whenever they have encountered each other before, the woman insists on dropping hints about her scandalous affair with Lord Reginald in hopes to knock Her Grace down a peg or two,” Lorna said with a huff. “Really, Miss Blackmore, the woman is nothing more than a cave troll, but being married to a powerful baron has made her nearly impervious to the rules of polite society that govern us all. And her horrid daughter is just as bad, likely to get worse once she gets her claws in Lord Nicholas.”

  “Who are they?” Tabitha asked.

  Lorna let out a long sigh.

  “Lady Hester Banon and her daughter, Sabine,” she said. “To be certain, Sabine is one of the prettiest girls to be found, but she has been spoiled and corrupted by her parents and believes herself to be entitled to the best—which she has deemed is Lord Nicholas. And it is her mother’s grandest scheme to see her daughter married off to the son of the woman she has considered her biggest rival since childhood.”

  Tabitha frowned at Lorna’s tale.

  “Her Grace and Lady Hester were girls together and have always had a serious rivalry, so I have been told,” Lorna continued. “Lady Gemma married the duke that Lady Hester had set her eyes on, and this began a lifetime of revenge and attention seeking which the duke was only all too willing to participate in, cad that he was. They humiliated Lady Gemma for most of her marriage, but Her Grace kept her poise and raised a good and kind son despite everything. So, I believe Lady Hester’s path of revenge is far from over and we all believe Her Grace does not deserve this. She is a kind and honorable woman and should be allowed to live her life in peace.”

  “That’s awful,” Tabitha whispered and Lorna nodded.

  “Lady Gemma does not possess a mean bone in her body,” Lorna continued. “And she is easily cut by the remarks of others. She has thin skin when it comes to things like this and we all want her to finally be free and happy now that her official mourning period is over. She can begin life anew, if only these vultures would move on and let her.”

  So true, Tabitha mused. However, was she really capable of swatting away the talons of high society women versed in the art of subtle cruelty and insults? Where Tabitha came from, things were more overt and insults would be labeled as such on the spot. It seemed that this game required a deftness and dexterity of mind and word that she was unpracticed at.

  “I shall do my best, Mrs. McEwan,” she said with a nod of her head. “Although I know I will need help along the way. This is all uncharted territory for me. And how am I just to present myself within their circle? I am not a peer. I do not belong here.”

  Lorna batted her hand in the air, dismissing Tabitha’s worries.

  “Never mind that,” she said. “We have come up with a back story to fool anyone who digs deep enough. You are here as the guest of Lord Alexander, cousin of
Lord Nicholas. Alex is a bit of a scoundrel but a good boy and has agreed to let us use him as an alibi to help Her Grace. Our story is that you are a distant relation of his mother’s and are under the care of his family while your mother, a baroness, is traveling. You will meet him this afternoon and you can iron out the details then. But no worrying. Lady Hester will not be concerned with you when she has much bigger targets in sight.”

  Tabitha nodded, but did not remain wholly convinced. If she was going to put herself in the crosshairs of this woman, surely she would look into Tabitha’s story in search of a skeleton in the proverbial closet to use?

  Tabitha cast the thought out — she would only be here a day or so — and focused on Lorna.

  “So, you will do it?” Lorna was smiling and waiting for Tabitha’s reply.

  “I shall do my best, Mrs. McEwan, but it seems risky,” she said. “What sort of trouble will we have brought to Her Grace if our scheme is discovered? Surely the consequences of that would far outweigh a few snide remarks and a scheming bride-to-be? What if Lord Nicholas wants to marry the Lady Sabine?”

  Lorna recoiled in horror at her words and hissed.

  “Do not say such things, child,” she whispered, her eyes round and huge. “Such a horrible notion! He would not want to marry that creature and even if he should, I would rather push him out a second-story window than curse him with a life connected to that family. No, most certainly not!”

  Lorna pushed herself to her feet and was still shaking her head at Tabitha’s words as she walked toward the door.

  “If you will follow me, I will lead you back to where we shall keep the gowns and accessories you will choose for Her Grace. Then we will get you introduced to Lord Alexander,” she said. “Tonight’s dinner is not a formal affair, but some guests have arrived early and will be in attendance. Lord Nicholas will hopefully be here in time for dinner. We expect Lady Hester and her daughter will not arrive until much later this evening, so you will be fortunate to have your first dinner here without them.”