The Wicked Duke Takes a Wife

Chapter Thirteen

He wanted her gone. He wanted her here. If his aunt did not seem happier since his brother’s death, she was at least diverted. And, obviously, so was he, because he couldn’t remember for the life of him what he had promised to do that afternoon. He knew he had an appointment. His valet had brought him his new jacket and trousers from the tailor. He thought there was supposed to be a schedule of his activities on the desk. Or had Miss Gardner confiscated it along with her horned rendition of his head?

He was halfway back to the library when the butler intercepted him. “There is another lady visitor here to see you, your grace,” he said in an apologetic voice. He had been guarding his master’s door like a bulldog against the stream of guests whose calling cards had yet to be read, let alone acknowledged, this past week.

“If she isn’t family, ask her to leave her card and… leave.”

“I explained to the lady that one is not welcome without an express invitation.”

“That was the proper thing to do.”

“She insisted that your grace will forgive her presumptuous intrusion after she explains the urgent nature of her business.”

“Tell her to put the presumptuous matter in writing and that the duke’s secretary will respond as he deems proper,” Lady Powlis said from the bottom of the stairs.

Griffin stared at her, cursing silently. Suddenly he remembered the appointment he had put from his mind. The park. An afternoon of stilted conversation with the woman the gossipmongers of London assumed he would marry. Primrose looked endearingly absurd in a striped green-and-cream carriage dress, her face hidden in the shadows of a plumed leghorn bonnet. She was leaning on her cane to descend one step at a time. It was difficult to believe she could drive a man to the edge of sanity.

Harriet came down the stairs behind her, her shawl and his aunt’s gloves in hand. She was wearing a pale-mint muslin gown and a pair of flat-heeled slippers. She looked quite the demure companion. He might have believed she was exactly that, had her eyes not narrowed when they met his. She gave him a fleeting smile, then looked away.

The butler backed into the hall. “I shall have the carriage brought to the door. By the way, your grace, your visitor asked me to mention that she is the owner of a certain academy in London.”

Lady Powlis glanced at Griffin in alarm. “Do you think Edlyn has run away again?”

“Charlotte would have been pounding the door down if she had,” he said, his face grim. Still, with Edlyn, the possibility of such a misadventure could not be ruled out. “Butler, bring the lady into my library.”

The butler chuckled. “Yes, your grace.”

Lady Powlis hastened to accompany him. “Harriet, please let the coachman know we might be late for our meeting and that he should send a footman to Lord Chatterton’s house, as a courtesy to his daughter.”

“I’m sure it’s nothing,” Griffin said, wondering if he could draw out the delay for the entire afternoon. He owed his brother favors yet unpaid, but courting a lady he had seen only once was surely not one of them.

A minute or so thereafter, the duke’s visitor entered the drawing room and introduced herself to Griffin and Primrose as Lady Alice Clipstone, headmistress of a young ladies’ finishing academy in London. From her plumed bonnet to her bright darting eyes, she reminded Griffin of a bird in search of a worm. He distrusted her on sight.

“Why are you here?” he inquired in unconcealed irritation.

“Your grace, please. I ask only that you hear me out. I am not a person of happenstance behavior. In fact, I attended school myself with your esteemed cousin, the Duchess of Scarfield.”

“Good for you,” he said. “I trust that is not the urgent nature of your visit?”

She clasped her hands together. “I have information about a certain instructress at the duchess’s school who will make your grace reconsider entrusting your niece to her care.”

Harriet, he thought, his mood brightening.

“If this is common gossip about my companion,” his aunt said, “the duke will banish you from this house immediately.”

“Let’s not be hasty,” he said in a cordial tone. “Any matter that concerns Edlyn deserves to be heard.”

Lady Clipstone took a breath. “It is not low gossip, your grace. What my conscience compels me to reveal is for the protection of young Miss Edlyn and your family.”

He nodded encouragingly, ignoring the menacing scowl that settled on his aunt’s face. “Low gossip,” she mouthed at him. “You ought to be ashamed for listening.”

Oddly, he did feel a little ashamed, but not enough to curb his curiosity. He motioned at Lady Clipstone. “Whatever you have to say, please do so quickly.”

“I am sure that Miss Edlyn’s future in Society is your primary concern.”

She waited politely for Griffin to agree.

When he did not, she rushed on. “Of equal importance, as you know, is that she mingle with only the highest quality.”

His aunt glared at her. “Which is why she is attending the finest academy in London.”

Lady Clipstone lifted her chin with an air of triumph. “But does the finest academy hire a former thief and daughter of a wanted criminal to teach impressionable young ladies, and would you wish your niece’s tender sensibilities exposed to a woman more experienced in vice than in the virtues those of the highest class embrace?”

She paused, as if overcome with emotion. Griffin glanced up at the ceiling, overcome with annoyance.

“Oh, get on with it,” Lady Powlis said. “If you mean to slander Miss Gardner’s reputation, I insist you prove your claims.”

Lady Clipstone swallowed. “Her past is a matter of public record.”

Primrose shot to her feet. “Are you going to toss this gabble-grinder out, Griff, or am I?”

He frowned as the woman rose and stared around the room in panic, as if searching for the closest exit. “I shall see myself out, thank you.” Her heel caught on the Turkey carpet. “I shall be happy to take Miss Edlyn on as a pupil, by the way. And I promise that what she would learn under my tutelage would only enhance her social education.”

For a full minute after her exit, Griffin and Primrose stood in silence at the window, watching her scramble into her small carriage and take flight.

“Fancy that,” he said. “The schoolmistress has a few secrets.”

Primrose sniffed. “You knew all along. And so did I. Charlotte told us as much.”

“Yes,” he said slowly. “But we didn’t know everything.”

“You don’t know everything now,” Harriet said quietly from behind them. “She didn’t tell you the worst of what I’ve done. I promised the duchess I wouldn’t speak of it, but I’m glad you found out. I’ll pack now.”

“You will not pack,” Lady Powlis said. “We are going to the park.”

Harriet shook her head, stepping back into the hall. “As you like, madam. I’ll pack after we come home.”

“We have a contract, Harriet,” Lady Powlis called after her retreating figure. “I shall sue you if you leave.”

Griffin broke into a grin.

“You needn’t look so pleased,” Primrose said, her cane lifted at an angle that his arse knew only too well. “Emma would never have taken Harriet under her wing had she not believed her to be worth redeeming.”

“Pleased? How you wound me.” He steadied her with his arm, keeping a safe distance from her cane. “She might prove to be a more dangerous woman than even you,” he mused.

She shrugged off his arm with an indignant scowl. “Barring a gaol warden, she might also prove to be what this family desperately needs.”