“Do you?” He smiled in that wolfish way of his. “It comes of growing up with an earl’s title and the rank of a marquess, Jane. And of becoming a duke at the tender age of seventeen. Time and again I have proved myself to be the blackest-hearted villain in all England. But every mama with a marriageable daughter still fawns over me as if I were the Angel Gabriel, and every papa courts my acquaintance. Not to mention the simpering young maidens themselves.”
“One of these days,” she said tartly, “you are going to fall in love with one of those maidens only to discover that she will laugh your courtship to scorn. You have little respect for female intelligence, your grace. You believe yourself to be the greatest matrimonial prize in Christendom and therefore despise all those whom you believe to be angling after you. There aresomesensible ladies in this world, I would have you know.”
He pursed his lips again, a gleam of definite amusement in his eyes now. “For my pride’s sake, Jane,” he said, “might we extend that to include the Islamic world as well as just Christendom?”
He was quickly learning, Jane thought, how to burst her bubble.
“But we digress.” He looked at her more soberly, and Jane felt fingers of apprehension creep up her spine. “You, Miss Ingleby, are going to be the main attraction of the evening. You are going to sing for my guests.”
“No!” She stood up abruptly.
“Ah yes,” he said softly. “I will even accompany you. I believe I must have admitted to thetonfrom time to time that I dabble. I do not fear that my manhood will be in jeopardy if I merely accompany a vocalist. Do you believe I should?”
“No,” she said. “No to the whole thing, I mean. I will not do it. I am not a public performer and have no wish to be. You cannot make me and do not think you can. I will not be bullied.”
“I will pay you five hundred pounds, Jane,” he said softly.
She drew breath to continue and snapped her mouth shut again. She frowned.
“Five hundred pounds?” she said incredulously. “How ridiculously absurd.”
“Not to me,” he said. “I want you to sing in public, Jane. I want thebeau mondeto discover what I discovered last night. You have a rare talent.”
“Do not think to flatter me into agreeing,” she said. But her mind had already whirled into motion. Five hundred pounds. She would not need to work for a long time. She could disappear into a more secure hiding place than this house. She could even move away to somewhere the earl and the Bow Street Runners would not think of looking.
“Five hundred pounds would free you from the necessity of searching out instant employment, would it not?” he said, obviously reading her thoughts, or at least some of them.
But first she would have to face a houseful of guests. Was there anyone in London, she wondered, apart from the Earl of Durbury, who knew her real identity, who had ever set eyes on her as Lady Sara Illingsworth? She did not believe so. But what if thereweresomeone?
“I will even say please, Jane,” the Duke of Tresham said, his voice falsely humble.
She looked reproachfully at him. Was there even the remotest chance that the earl would be among the guests? There was one way of finding out, of course. She could ask Mr. Quincy if she could look at the guest list.
“I will think about it,” she told him while her stomach performed an uncomfortable flip-flop.
“I suppose,” he said, “that is the best I can expect from you for now, is it, Jane? You cannot capitulate too soon or it will seem that you have allowed yourself to be overpowered. Very well. But your answer must be yes. My mind is set upon it. We will do some rehearsing tomorrow afternoon.”
“You are rubbing your leg again,” she said. “I suppose you will not admit that you were foolish to go out today and more foolish to stay out so long. Let me call someone to help you up to your room, and let me have some cold water sent up to you.”
“I have been attempting to teach my brother to distinguish the front end of a horse from the rear,” he said. “I have wagered a hefty amount on him at White’s, Miss Ingleby, and am quite determined that he will win the race.”
“How terribly foolish men are,” she said. “Their minds are totally bent on trivialities, their energies spent on matters of insignificance. If Lord Ferdinand is hurt on Friday, you will perhaps realize that he is of far more importance to you than the mere winning of a bet.”
“If you have finished your scolding,” he told her, “you may do what you yourself suggested, Miss Ingleby, and summon the heftiest footman you can find.”
She left the room without another word.
What if her description was circulating London? she thought suddenly. What if she stepped into the music room on Thursday evening and the assembled guests arose en masse to point accusing fingers at her?
She could not help the foolish feeling that in some way it would be a relief.
10
OCELYN DID NOT OFTEN ENTERTAIN, BUT WHENhe did, he did it in lavish style. His chef grumbled belowstairs at having been given no notice at all of the monumental task of preparing a grand dinner to begin the evening and a tasty supper to sustain it at midnight. But he set about the task with a flurry of creative energy instead of resigning on the spot as he threatened to do whenever he stopped work long enough to draw breath.
The housekeeper did not complain, but marshaled her troops with grim determination to banish every speck of dust from the rooms that would be used for the entertainment and to have every surface polished and gleaming. She arranged the lavish mounds of flowers that Michael Quincy had ordered.
As Jocelyn had predicted, almost everyone accepted his invitation even though doing so doubtless involved the breaking of other commitments at the last moment. The chance to attend a dinner and soiree at Dudley House did not come often.
