My Dearest Grandson Alexander,
While reading through some old letters, I came across this exceptional quote from my dear friend Lord Chesterfield: “Never seek for wit; if it presents itself, well and good; but even in that case, let your judgment interpose, and take care that it be not at the expense of anybody. For wit and judgment ever are at strife, though meant for each other’s aid, like man and wife.”
Your loving Grandmother,
Lady Elder
Susannah sat in the outer office of Mr. Miles Rexford, waiting for him to see her. The documents she had brought to London with her were tucked safely in a small leather folder and rested in her lap. Mrs. Princeton sat quietly beside her, reading. Susannah knew of no other way to force Race’s hand. He had left her no choice but to obtain legal representation in order to get the pearls.
A door opened quickly, and a rather stout, gray-haired man wearing spectacles rushed over to her and bowed. “Your Grace, sorry to keep you waiting.”
Susannah rose. “I didn’t mind. It gave me time to collect my thoughts.”
“Come this way.”
Susannah and Mrs. Princeton followed him into his office and took a seat in the chairs he offered.
“Now, tell me, what I can do for you?” Mr. Rexford asked, lowering his bulky body into his large leather chair.
Susannah hesitated only a moment and then handed him the folder. “These documents prove my family is the legal owner of the Talbot pearls. They are currently in the possession of the Marquis of Raceworth, and I want to see them returned to my family.”
He peered at her from over the top of his spectacles as he laid his hand on top of the folder. “Hmm. Have you spoken to Lord Raceworth about this?”
“Yes, more than once. He refuses to look at my evidence.”
“That’s not surprising. If he examined your evidence, he would be forced to make a decision one way or the other as to the validity of your claim.”
“I agree, but I have not been able to make him do that. I’m hoping you can.”
The man’s small, dark eyes appeared eager as he took the folder and opened it.
Susannah remained on the edge of her chair as it seemed to take the man an hour to read through the pages. He grunted every so often and mumbled to himself from time to time, but never took the time to even glance up at her.
Finally he closed the folder and laid it down on his desk. He looked up at Susannah, and in a matter-of-fact tone, said, “These documents appear to be legitimate to me. I think you have a strong case that the pearls were stolen from your family. Tell me, have you shown these to the magistrate?”
“No, and at this point, Mr. Rexford, I would rather not. I want this matter to be handled privately, if possible. I don’t relish the idea of personal business landing in the scandal sheets.”
“I understand completely and I will do my utmost to see that doesn’t happen, Your Grace.”
“My hope is that you can contact Lord Raceworth’s solicitor and handle this directly with him and not involve others.”
He leaned back in his chair. It squeaked noisily. “All right, I’ll see what I can do for you, Your Grace. It might take me a few days to get back to you. First, I’ll have to find out who the marquis’s solicitor is and make an appointment with him. I’m sure he’ll want time to look at this.” He patted the folder. “And after we have spoken, I’ll be back in touch with you.”
Susannah studied over what he said.
“Is there something you don’t like? Just tell me.”
“Those papers are all I have to substantiate my claim. I would be devastated if anything happened to them.”
He held up his hands. “Don’t worry, Your Grace. I will not let them out of my sight, and I will not leave them with anyone.”
Susannah let out a deep breath of relief and rose. “Thank you, Mr. Rexford, I’ll leave this in your capable hands.”
***
Later that evening, there was no trepidation in her movement as Susannah walked up the steps to the Great Hall with Mrs. Princeton by her side. She had been eagerly awaiting the time for them to leave for the ball. The night was almost balmy, which was unusual for the month of May. A golden glow came from the massive double doors that had been thrown wide, and the sounds of lively music drifted on the heavy, damp air.
At the marble landing to the entrance of the building, Susannah stopped in the doorway and looked down into the crowded ballroom. It had been so long since she’d been in the Great Hall, but judging from the swirling throng of people inside, it didn’t appear as if any part of it had changed, especially not the impeccably dressed gentlemen and the elaborately gowned ladies filling the open, spacious floor.
The magnificent ballroom was lined down each side with fluted Corinthian columns. Some of the stately pillars formed little alcoves where intimate groups could shield themselves from the masses. The detailed woodwork around the ceiling was touched in gilt, and the walls were decorated with silks, brocades, and ornately painted landscapes. The enormous columns had been draped with vines of bright green ivy, colorful spring flowers, and wispy yards of white and sky blue satin.
From out of the center of the crowd below, Susannah saw Race striding toward her. She turned to Mrs. Princeton, who was dressed in a dark brown gown with white lace collar and cuffs, and said, “You may feel free to enjoy your evening. I will find you when I am ready to leave.”
“Thank you, Your Grace,” Mrs. Princeton said and walked away.
Susannah turned back toward Race and smiled as he approached. His expression was tender, and it touched her heart. He looked splendid in his formal evening attire of a black cutaway jacket and slim-legged trousers. His crisp white shirt was covered by a gold-colored, quilted waistcoat.
He stopped in front of her. His gaze skimmed down her face and then back up to her eyes, telling her with his expression that he was happy to see her.
“I’ve been waiting quite impatiently for you to arrive,” he said.
Susannah tilted her head back a little and smiled at him. “I didn’t know I needed to be here at any specific time.”
He chuckled lightly. “The devil you didn’t. I think you were intentionally late just so I would squirm.”
“Not so,” she argued good-naturedly. “I thought it was still fashionable to be late.”
She felt his gaze caress her lips, and somehow she knew he wanted to kiss her. And that made her stomach tingle expectantly.
“You are a beautiful lady, Susannah, and well worth the wait. I’m glad you came.”
She looked into his magnificent brownish-green eyes and, without delay, said, “So am I. I haven’t been to a big party like this in many years. I intend to enjoy every moment of it. I want to dance and drink champagne. I want to smile at all the handsome gentlemen and be envious of all the beautiful ladies.”
Race’s eyebrows rose, questioning her. “I’m not sure I want you smiling at any of the gentlemen, handsome or not, and there is no reason for you to be envious of any of the ladies in attendance.” His gaze swept easily down her face and then back up to rest on her eyes. “There is not one lady in London who can compare to your beauty tonight.”
Susannah gave him a teasing smile. “You say that only because you are smitten with me. I can assure you other gentlemen will not think as you do.”
His eyebrows lifted in mock surprise. “So, you think I’m smitten with you, do you?”
“I do.”
“Guess what? You’re right, and if you keep looking at me that way, I will show you just how smitten I am right here in the doorway.”
Susannah shook her head. “That wouldn’t be wise, my lord. You kissed me in public the other day and, somehow, fate smiled on me, and no one managed to see you. I do not want to tempt fate twice and possibly be ruined once again here on my first night back in the center of Polite Society.”
He moved closer and smiled warmly at her. “I don’t want that either, because I don’t want you to have any reason to say ‘no’ should I decide to ask you to go riding in the park with me again.”
“So there is some doubt as to whether you will invite me again?” she said good-naturedly.
His eyes shimmered with humor. “Of course. A lot depends on whether you step on my toes when we’re dancing.”
They both laughed.
“What the devil are you two doing standing in the entrance way of the ballroom? Are you trying to make a spectacle of yourselves?”
Susannah spun to see a tall, extremely handsome man, with longish, dark brown hair, walking toward them. Everything about him projected power, privilege, title, and wealth. He had the brightest blue eyes she had ever seen, and his gaze immediately zeroed in on her. Without question, she knew this man had to be one of Race’s notorious cousins.
“Morgan,” Race said, smiling. “I was hoping you would be here.” He turned to Susannah. “May I present my cousin, the Earl of Morgandale. Morgan, may I present the Dowager Duchess of Blooming.”
Susannah didn’t miss the curious glance Lord Morgandale threw his cousin’s way before the earl bowed and kissed her gloved hand. In the way he looked at her with narrowing eyes and a tightness around his mouth, she got the distinct impression that he had reservations concerning her, and she had a feeling it had nothing to do with her ruined reputation twelve years ago.
“It’s a pleasure, Duchess,” he said, looking straight into her eyes but with enough chill in his voice to belie his words and send icy fingers of disapproval running down her back. “I was wondering when you were going to make your first appearance in Society.”
Susannah didn’t like feeling as if she had to defend her reluctance to enter Society, but she did understand Race’s cousin’s curiosity about her.
Keeping a smile on her face, she pleasantly said, “First appearance? Perhaps you didn’t know that I was in the park with Lord Raceworth just a few days ago.”
Lord Morgandale cleared his throat uncomfortably and then said, “Pardon me, Your Grace. I should have said at a party or ball.”
She gave him a knowing smile. “There has been so much to do that it has taken me longer than I expected to get settled into my new home.”
“So I understand. I was actually at Race’s house for the card party when you arrived there a couple of weeks ago, though we didn’t manage to meet that day.”
Susannah thought she heard a hint of disdain in his voice, though he kept his face passive. No doubt he knew that she claimed the Talbot pearls belonged to her family. She couldn’t expect Race to keep something as important as that from his cousins. And according to all she had read about them, the three men were quite close.
“I’m sorry we didn’t meet at that time. I remember how busy with activity his house was that day, and I’m sure my unexpected arrival only added to it.”
He lifted one eyebrow and said, “In ways you’ll never know, Duchess.”
“Morgan,” Race said, “are Blake and Henrietta here?”
“Yes, and Gibby’s here, too,” Morgan said, turning to Susannah. “Though I believe you have already met our dear friend.”
A warm feeling washed over Susannah. Just thinking about the spunky old gentleman made her feel good. “Indeed, I have met Sir Randolph. I look forward to saying hello to him later in the evening.”
“I thought it was you two I saw standing in the doorway when I walked by. What is this? Are the two of you having a meeting without me again?”
Susannah heard a very pleasing and friendly voice, but Race and Lord Morgandale were standing side by side, and their wide shoulders blocked her view of the man approaching them.
But when Lord Raceworth and Lord Morgandale turned, it allowed Susannah to see another magnificent man of towering height and broad shoulders, striding toward them. He wasn’t quite as tall as Race or the earl, but he was equally handsome, and he walked with a stately air befitting a king. Somehow Susannah knew this man was Race’s other cousin, the recently married Duke of Blakewell.
Susannah smiled with pleasure and lightly shook her head in awe. How had one woman, the legendary Lady Elder, been blessed with three such masterful and powerful-looking grandsons?
Something Susannah had read just recently in one of Lord Truefitt’s columns came back to her as Race made the formal introductions once again.
Everyone in the ton knew that Lady Elder had tried many times by fair and foul means to force her grandsons to marry. After all, she had been married four times. Decades earlier she had successfully married off each of her three daughters to titled gentlemen. And in turn, each daughter had given her a grandson, all in the same year.
The grandsons turned out to be rogues of the highest order, notorious for many reasons, including their titles, handsomeness, and rumored debauchery. But nothing made them more popular than the fact that all three remained bachelors into their thirtieth year. Not even vast fortunes had tempted any of them to propose matrimony to any of the young ladies who fancied them, until the fair Miss Henrietta Tweed made her way to London and captured the heart of the handsome Duke of Blakewell, and she became his duchess.
The duke turned to Susannah and said, “My wife, Henrietta, has been anxious to meet you. She was sorry you declined her invitation to tea.”
Though the duke said the word sorry, she was quite sure he meant she was miffed. Perhaps Susannah had been too hasty in her refusal of the duchess’s invitation to tea, but at the time, she was still reluctant to open herself up to too many people, especially those connected to the marquis.
She was momentarily at a loss for words but finally managed to say, “I’m sure no excuse will make up for my being unable to attend that afternoon. Perhaps I can meet her tonight and offer my personal apology.”
His Grace remained silent and looked her over as thoroughly as Lord Morgandale had. Susannah’s chin lifted ever so slightly, but otherwise she stood perfectly in stature and without shame or guilt and let him assess her for as long as he wanted.
Susannah was pleased with her appearance for the evening. Her amethyst-colored gown had a demure neckline befitting a dowager, though she was far younger than the average widowed duchess. The capped sleeves of her bodice were adorned with plum-colored velvet ribbon that had been tied into perfect bows. The decoration banded her high-waisted gown and trimmed the four flounces of her full skirt. Her maid had swept her hair up and threaded small violet flowers through the curls. At the base of her throat rested a large amethyst circled by diamonds, held around her neck by a velvet ribbon.
Though she felt good about herself, Susannah certainly hadn’t impressed either of Race’s cousins. But what could she expect? She didn’t have much to recommend her. She had been compromised as a young lady, and now in their eyes, she was after Race’s inheritance from his grandmother. She really couldn’t expect to find favor with them. She content with that.
Her gaze drifted over to the marquis. His sensuous eyes were riveted on her. Even though he had remained quiet and let her assess his cousins, she hadn’t lost sight of his nearness. Susannah felt an unexpected rush of joy. It didn’t matter what the earl or the duke thought about her; Race found her desirable, and he was the only one she wanted to please.
“That will not be a problem, Blake,” Race said, looking completely at ease. “I’ll make sure Henrietta meets Susannah before the night is over.”
“So it’s Susannah,” Morgan said, looking from Race to Susannah. “Race wasn’t sure what your given name was when I last spoke to him.”
“That said, Duchess,” the duke said, “may Morgan and I be allowed to call you Susannah?”
Susannah faced the handsome man who had no real friendliness in his tone. The duke knew that, out of respect to her title, they must call her Duchess or Your Grace unless she gave them permission to be so informal and use her Christian name. She had the feeling from both Race’s cousins that they would be quite comfortable calling her names that couldn’t be used in mixed company.
That thought made her smile.
Because she understood their reluctance to befriend her, she smiled sweetly at first the duke, and then she turned to the earl and said confidently, “You are both free to call me Susannah or anything else you might prefer, including that witch who wants my grandmother’s pearls.”
Seeing the surprise on their faces, she looked at Race, and they both started laughing.
Race cleared his throat to hide his chuckle. “Now, if you two don’t mind, I think it’s time Susannah and I had a glass of champagne.”
Race and Susannah walked past a shocked earl and stunned duke.
“You are a brave woman, Duchess, to take on my cousins as you just did,” Race said as they started down the three steps that led into the grand ballroom.
“I have nothing to fear from them, my lord. Your cousins are predisposed to dislike me, and I understand that. But perhaps now they can, at least, be comfortable around me, knowing that they don’t have to pretend to approve of me, or perhaps I should say approve of the reason I am in London.”
His eyes were sparkling with laughter when he said, “I’d say you made that quite clear. It’s the first time I’ve seen both of them totally speechless at the same time. That was worth a handful of gold coins, and you gave it to me for free.”
“Delighted to be of service,” she said as they melted into the mob of revelers in the ballroom.
The first couple of hours at the Great Hall were a blur to Susannah as people were presented to her without a break in the steady flow. Everyone wanted to be able to say they had met the new duchess in Town. She became reacquainted with a couple of ladies she had known years ago, and several of the older women had inquired after her mother. Somehow in the crush of people she and Race had become separated, but every once in a while she would see him watching her from across the crowded room.
If anyone even remotely remembered why she had left London and married the duke so suddenly, no one made mention of it, nor did she feel any hesitancy in the warm greeting she received from everyone she met, except for Race’s cousins.
“There you are, Your Grace,” Mrs. Princeton said, walking up to Susannah with a tall, slender gentleman she had met a few minutes earlier. Lord Snellingly was a handsome man and easy to remember because not only was his neckcloth and collar so ridiculously high and tight he could hardly move his head, he carried a white lace handkerchief and painted porcelain snuff box in one hand.
The man bowed and then said, “Your Grace, first let me say I have never seen beauty that compares to yours.”
“Thank you, Lord Snellingly.”
He sniffed and then smiled at her. “Your companion has just told me that you play the pianoforte.”
“Yes,” Susannah answered, cutting her eyes around to Mrs. Princeton. The woman was positively beaming, and Susannah knew what that meant. Mrs. Princeton thought this man would make Susannah an excellent beau or husband. Even though she had warned Mrs. Princeton not to do any matchmaking, she guessed the woman couldn’t help herself.
“I was hoping you might allow me to call on you tomorrow or perhaps another day that would be at your convenience, so that I might listen to you play.”
“I’m flattered that you would want to, Lord Snellingly, but I really don’t play for anyone but myself, so that won’t be possible.”
“Oh, but you don’t understand,” he said, stepping a little closer to her. “I write poetry. Perhaps you’ve read some of my published works?”
Susannah shook her head and started thinking about how she was going to politely get away from this man.
“No matter.” He paused and sniffed. “I’ll bring some of my best poems and read them to you. I know if I could sit and admire you, while you play, that I would be able to write the most inspiring poetry. I can feel it deep in my heart that I could create verse that would make all the ladies in London weep.”
“Thank you, Lord Snellingly, but I really couldn’t do that.” She turned to her companion. Mrs. Princeton was obviously in awe of the man she thought to be a poet and thereby a perfect beau for Susannah, so she would leave Mrs. Princeton to talk to the man.
“Lord Snellingly, Mrs. Princeton. You must excuse me. I see someone I need to speak to.” Susannah quickly turned away, not giving either of them the time to respond and delay her.
To escape, she headed for the champagne table and was thrilled to see Race standing there, his back to her. As she approached, he turned around, holding two glasses. He smiled when he saw her and started toward her.
“You are too popular this evening, Duchess,” he said, handing a glass to her. “It seems every time I ask you to dance, someone arrives and diverts our attention from dancing to conversations. And the next thing I know you are talking to someone like that fop Lord Snellingly.”
“The poet?” she asked.
“That is what he claims, but I’ve yet to hear of anyone agreeing with him on that account. I wouldn’t advise you to encourage him, unless you want him sending you poetry every day.”
Susannah thought of the two unpretentious notes she had received from Race. One telling her he wanted to take her for a ride in the park and the other simply indicating he wanted to see her. Both notes had thrilled her immensely. She kept both of them in a secret part of her jewelry chest. She couldn’t count the times she had taken them out and read them. They always made her smile.
“No worries there, my lord. I sensed as much from him and slipped away from him as soon as I could, but even with encounters like Lord Snellingly, I am enjoying myself much more than I thought I would.”
He bent his head a little closer to hers and said, “Excuse me, but are you, by chance, admitting that you were wrong about something?”
Her eyes rounded in mock horror. “Surely not. That would go against everything I believe in.”
Race laughed and Susannah was amazed by how much she enjoyed just the simplest of conversations with him.
“As soon as the music starts up again, Susannah, we are going to dance.”
“Race, Duchess, there you are,” Sir Randolph said, walking up to them. “Morgan told me you were here, but there are so many blasted people in here, it’s difficult to get around to finding anyone.”
“I have certainly seen you, Sir Randolph,” Susannah said, smiling at the debonair man.
His brown eyes twinkled, and his shoulders lifted. “You have?”
“On the dance floor,” Susannah said. “I think you’ve been out there for most every dance.”
Sir Randolph glanced eagerly at Race. “How do I look? Do I seem to be keeping up with the younger ones?”
Race hesitated, so Susannah said, “Most definitely, Sir Randolph. You appear very fit and agile to me, dancing rings around the much younger gentlemen.”
Gibby turned to her, obviously pleased by her comment. “Splendid. That’s what I wanted to hear.”
“What are you trying to do, Gib?” Race said, looking puzzled. “I’ve never seen you dance so much.”
“Never have. I don’t really care much for it. I do it only because it pleases the ladies. Danger Jim said I should dance every night, every dance, to help build up my endurance and help me find my wind.”
A deep wrinkle crowded the space between Race’s eyebrows. “Your wind? And who the… ” Race stopped himself as he threw a glance toward Susannah. She put her champagne glass to her lips to keep from smiling.
Race exhaled deeply and asked, “Gib, who is Danger Jim?”
“He’s the bruiser I hired to help me get ready for my fight. He says I have to keep working hard to find my ‘bottom.’”
“I can help you with that,” Race said in an exasperated voice. “Why don’t you try looking at the seat of your breeches? You might find it there.”
“Your humor amuses no one, Race,” Sir Randolph said with impatience. “Danger Jim said that a man’s ‘bottom’ is where he’ll find the depth of his wind, spirit, heart, and courage. Every pugilist has to find that before he will know what he’s made of.”
“Every man needs to find that whether he ever throws a punch. You know, Gib, there’s a reason Lord Chesterfield said, ‘There’s a fool born every minute.’”
“Nonsense, Race,” Susannah said while giving him a stern stare. “I’m certain that Lord Chesterfield said no such thing.”
“Well, he should have, because it’s a lot truer than most of the blather he wrote to his son.”
Susannah scoffed at Race and turned to the older man. “Pay him no heed, Sir Randolph. You don’t have to go looking for courage, heart, wind, or anything else. I can see you are brimming with all of them. Just have faith that when you need them most, they will be at your disposal.”
“Thank you kindly, Duchess. Race likes to be cantankerous from time to time, so I know not to take what he says to heart.”
“You give me reason to be ill-tempered, Gib,” Race muttered and then sipped his champagne.
Even though the two men sparred with words, Susannah sensed they had deep respect for each other. There was no hostility, resentment, or jealousy in their tones. She understood Race’s concern about the pugilism match. She had never seen one, but she had read a few graphic accounts of the prize-fighting matches, including some of Lord Byron’s writings about them. It was not a sport for the fearful or faint-hearted.
“Race, have you seen the posters that went up all over London this afternoon?”
“No.” His eyes narrowed again. “What are you talking about?”
“Posters announcing my duel in the park with Prattle.”
“It’s not a duel, Gib. It’s just a fight.”
“And I need to come up with a boxer’s name. You know all great pugilists have a fighting name.”
“Gibby, you are not a boxer, but this is not the place to get into that again. Besides, I just heard someone announce that a dance is starting, and Susannah has promised me a dance.”
“I wouldn’t talk to you about it anyway. I’m on my way home soon. I can’t stay up until the wee hours of the morning anymore. Danger Jim insists I get ten hours of sleep every night. It’s already two hours past the time he told me to be in bed.”
“Excuse me, Lord Raceworth, Sir Randolph. Good evening to you both.”
Susannah looked around to see a tall, tan-skinned man with ink-black hair flowing outrageously long, over his shoulders and down his back. His face was clean-shaven except for a very thin black mustache cresting his upper lip and connecting down to his chin, forming a chin-strap look. His features were sharp and his jaw line angular, giving him an aristocratic appearance.
The man was extremely attractive in an eerie, exotic sort of way. Without being told, she knew this man was the infamous Captain Spyglass.
He wore impeccable formal evening attire, but what made him stand out were the small gold loops he wore in each ear. On the middle finger of his left hand was a shockingly large pearl ring that was surrounded by rubies. Hanging below his intricately tied neckcloth was a Maltese cross fashioned with pearls. Perhaps what she had heard about his pearl obsession was true. The only other man Susannah had ever seen adorned with so many jewels was the king, the one time she had been presented to him.
“Captain Spyglass,” both Race and Sir Randolph said with no friendliness in their voices.
He looked at Susannah with appreciation in his eyes and bowed courteously.
Susannah felt Race stiffen beside her. It was clear Race did not like this man, and he did not want to have to introduce them, but after a long pause, Race relented and made the proper introductions.
Captain Spyglass kissed her hand and said, “Your Grace, as your humble servant, may I tell you how lovely you are tonight? That amethyst you are wearing is magnificent.”
“Thank you,” Susannah said.
Race moved closer to Susannah and said, “You must excuse us, but we were heading to the dance floor.”
“But there is no music as of now,” he said with a smile.
“There will be,” Race said, keeping a steady gaze on the man.
The Captain nodded and said, “A moment before you go, please, my lord. I would very much like to visit you again to talk about the pearl necklace you have that I wish to purchase from you. Perhaps I could stop by tomorrow if you would tell me a time that would be convenient.”
“There is no time. I’m not interested in discussing anything with you.”
Susannah hadn’t expected Race to be so rude.
The Captain smiled again and bowed. “Pardon me for disturbing you, my lord. Duchess, Sir Randolph,” Captain Spyglass said and turned and walked away.
“I don’t trust that man,” Sir Randolph said.
“Susannah aptly called him a pirate.”
“I agree with her on that,” Sir Randolph said.
“But looking at him, I can see why he is on everyone’s guest list,” Susannah said. “He’s quite an impressive man.”
Race cocked his head and stared at her. “Impressive, Susannah? And I suppose you also think Lord Snellingly is a handsome man?”
“As a matter of fact, I do think he is quite handsome.”
“Which reminds me,” Sir Randolph said, “I need to come up with a fighting name.”
“You have one,” Race said irritably. “It’s Gibby, or Gib if you prefer.”
“No, I mean for my fight. I need a name like the Iron Man, the Widow Maker, or the Heavy Hammer. A really good prize-fighter needs a name.”
“Oh, I know, how about Gib the Pipit?” Susannah said hopefully.
Sir Randolph frowned. “Is a pipit a bird?” Gib asked.
“Yes,” she answered. “A small, beautiful bird that resembles a lark.”
“Thank you kindly, Your Grace, but I was thinking of something stronger than a bird.”
“Then how about Jack-a-lent, Jackanapes, or maybe just the Jackal?” Race asked him.
Sir Randolph threw his shoulders back and puffed out his chest. “If you were using all the Jack names, why did you leave out Jackass? Don’t tell me you were trying to spare my feelings?”
“All right, I won’t.”
Susannah marveled at how easily the two men sparred words with each other yet she neither heard nor sensed true anger in either man.
“I know something that will work,” Susannah said, stepping in between the two sparring friends. “How about Gib the Gray Wolf or Gib the Growling Bear? Those are stronger.”
Sir Randolph gave her a placating smile. “Something close to that is what I’m looking for. You keep working on it, Duchess.” He turned to Race and grinned. “The fight is on.”
Susannah sighed as the gray-haired man walked away. “I don’t think he liked my suggestions any better than he liked yours.”
Race chuckled. “Too bad. I thought Gib the Pipit sounded just like Gibby.” He paused. “Is that music I hear?”
She handed him her glass. “Indeed it is.”
Race placed the glasses on the table and said, “Let’s head for the dance floor.”
They turned to leave, and Susannah saw the Duke of Blakewell coming toward them with a beautiful, blonde lady walking beside him.
“I think the dance will have to wait a little longer,” Race muttered under his breath. “You are about to meet Blake’s wife, Henrietta.”
“Good,” she said. “I’ve wanted to meet her. This will be my opportunity to make amends.”
With the ease that comes only from the peerage, the introductions of a duchess meeting a duchess were dispensed with quickly, and Susannah found herself looking into the friendly eyes of a young lady, perhaps ten years younger than she. Unlike the wariness she saw in Race’s two cousins’ eyes, the Duchess of Blakewell’s demeanor was friendly and sincere. Susannah liked her immediately.
“Before we go further, Your Grace,” she told the younger lady, “I must apologize again for being unable to have tea with you. It was gracious of you to ask.”
The duchess smiled at her. “My heavens, no need to apologize again. I understood perfectly that the timing wasn’t good for you. I know I was rushing you, but I was so happy to hear that another duchess was in Town, and one more my age, that I let my eagerness to meet you overshadow my good judgment. I’m the one who must apologize for not giving you more time to get settled before contacting you.”
“Perhaps we can arrange another afternoon soon,” Susannah offered.
“I would like that. I was about to go to the retiring room. Would you like to join me?”
Susannah turned toward Race. He gave her a slight nod of approval. Their hope for a dance had been thwarted once again.
“All right,” Susannah said to the lovely duchess. “Lead the way, and I will follow.”
As the two ladies walked away, the Duchess of Blakewell said, “Your outing in the park with Race is the talk of London’s drawing rooms right now. I think perhaps I should give a dinner party in your honor and invite a few people over, so they can get to know you better.”
Susannah’s stomach tightened. “Please don’t do that, Your Grace. I don’t think that would be a wise idea right now. I don’t know how long I will be here.”
Her Grace stopped and looked into Susannah’s eyes. “What does it matter how long you will be in London? If there’s one thing I’ve learned in my short time, it is if you are a duchess, everyone wants to meet you and get to know you.”
Susannah stared at her charming face and knew this woman would be a wonderful friend, but the first thing she had to do was be truthful with her. “Your Grace, perhaps your husband hasn’t told you, but I’m in Town to lay claim to something his cousin, Lord Raceworth, has in his possession and believes to be his. I don’t think His Grace would want you to have a dinner party in my honor.”
The duchess turned back to look at her husband. He and Race were deep in conversation. Giving her attention back to Susannah, she said, “But you and Race seem so, so…”
Susannah smiled gratefully. “We are on excellent terms, but I fear his cousins think I have bewitched him.”
The Duchess of Blakewell laughed lightly. “Well, Your Grace, it just so happens that I have had some experience with being bewitched, and it doesn’t bother me at all. I always seem to be in a hurry to get things done, but I will wait a little longer before I suggest a dinner party.” Her eyes softened. “How does that sound?”
“Perfect,” Susannah answered, and the two ladies walked away laughing.