“What about it, Miss Prim?” the duke asked softly while Lillian continued playing the pianoforte. “Was that a challenge?”
“Certainly not,” she said, refusing to move an inch, lest he realize she was shaking in her soft-soled slippers and trying desperately to hide it. “I’m not foolish enough to take on a gentleman as irresponsible as you.”
Louisa let her gaze fall to his wide chest, covered by a starched white shirt and well-fitted pale brown waistcoat and across his strong-looking shoulders encased in a dark, chocolate brown coat. Her attention slid over his casually tied neckcloth before rolling back up his cleanly shaven neck to study his handsome, chiseled features. And then as with a will of their own, her eyes stopped at his lips—which formed such an appealing half grin that she wanted to reach up and kiss him.
The unexpected urge caused a catch in her breath. He was so cocksure, she feared he might know what she was thinking.
She stepped back and took a quick glance toward Lillian, hoping her sister hadn’t seen just how close she was standing to the duke.
“If that was a compliment, Miss Prim,” he said, “thank you.”
Lillian hit a sequence of wrong notes in the middle of a chord that was going rather well, and Louisa saw His Grace flinch. She smiled. She saw no reason to make his unwanted and unexpected visit enjoyable. Her brother had adored all his sisters, but when it came time for music lessons, he had always found a reason to leave the house. And when her uncle had visited Wayebury and one of the girls was practicing, he immediately told Louisa the playing had to stop. Apparently some gentlemen couldn’t block the sound from their ears and continue on with whatever they were doing. Perhaps the duke was like that and would rather leave than be forced to listen to the unpleasant string of sounds, too.
“I’m assuming your sister Gwen is the one who is ready to enter Society?”
“Yes,” Louisa said cautiously, remembering that she’d had to send her uncle three letters before he finally made a visit to Wayebury to discuss her petition to move the family to London for the Season so that Gwen could enter the marriage mart.
Louisa had done her best over the past two years to be accommodating to her uncle and not bother him very often, which was what he’d made clear he wanted. After she had repeatedly refused his demands that she force the Duke of Drakestone to make good on his word and marry her, the easiest thing for her to do was acquiesce to her uncle’s wishes that she stay at his estate in Wayebury and be responsible for her sisters’ schooling and welfare.
When her uncle finally appeared at Wayebury a few weeks ago, it had been apparent he didn’t want to live up to what was expected of him and see to it that Gwen had a Season befitting the daughter of a viscount so she could make a good match. In fact, he had been greatly perturbed to hear her explain they would need a place to live, new clothing, a coach-and-four, and to be introduced to the appropriate ladies so that Gwen could obtain invitations to the best parties and balls. Louisa had already determined in her mind that she would have to deal courageously with her uncle, so she had remained steady and firm. In the end, he’d agreed to her requests and made arrangements for their journey to London.
But how shabbily her uncle had treated them in the past was not this man’s concern.
“Naturally,” the duke said, “you’ll want her to be dressed in the latest fashion.”
That seemed an odd comment for the duke to make, but Louisa said, “Yes.”
“She’ll also need to be introduced to the patronesses of Almack’s.”
“Of course. Gwen is lovely, sociable, and quite intelligent, and—” Suddenly Louisa gasped. “Your Grace, do you have designs on Gwen?”
His brows drew together quickly. “Romantic designs on her? No.”
“Good, because I would never allow her to marry you.”
The duke’s green eyes darkened, and he stared at her with a hard, defying expression. He stepped dangerously close to her again and said, “Miss Prim,ifI wanted to marry your sister, you could not stop me.”
She hesitated, hating the truth of his words and not willing to admit it. “Perhaps, but I would certainly try.”
“But that’s not the point. What does your sister need to ensure her appearance in Society is a success?”
Louisa smirked. “Well, Your Grace, since gratefully, you are not interested in her, I don’t believe her welfare is any of your concern or any of your business, and I’ll thank you to keep out of it.”
His brow furrowed again. “Your uncle made it my concern and my business.”
His cocksure attitude sent a rippling of alarm through her. “Did he? How? What has he done?”
“You don’t know.”
Her trepidation increased. “I’m not sure what you are talking about. I don’t know how Gwen’s Season could possibly be any of your concern.”
“Before Lord Wayebury left England to go on his grand tour, he signed your inheritance and that of your sisters over to me for management and disbursement as well as legal guardianship.”
Louisa felt as if an anvil had fallen on her chest and she had no means to get it off. “He’s gone out of the country? And he left us at your mercy?”
The duke nodded.
“I don’t believe you.”
