Ducal Encounters In the Duke’s Estimation

Zachary Sheridan, the highly eligible Duke of Winchester, removed his shoulder from the wall where it had been comfortably resting and shared a resigned glance with Nate, his one remaining unmarried brother.

“I did not see you approaching, Mother,” Zach remarked laconically.

“Evidently not.” The dowager duchess bestowed a resigned smile upon her eldest son. “You really ought to make more of an effort to disguise your lack of interest in society’s frivolities, Zach. I know how you feel about these gatherings but it won’t kill you to make yourself agreeable for an hour or two.”

“I was just now telling him the exact same thing, Mother,” Nate said, cutting Zach an amused sideways glance. In actual fact they had been discussing the possibility of Zach’s replacing his travelling chaise with a more up to date model.

The dowager sent Nate a disbelieving look and continued to berate Zach. “It is a huge feather in our hostess’s admittedly rather ostentatious cap to have persuaded you to attend her ball.”

“I would not have missed it for the world,” Zach said, a marked lack of conviction in his tone.

“And yet you lurk—”

“Dukes do not lurk, Mother, as you so charmingly put it. We make tactical withdrawals.”

“Harrumph! You have gained a reputation for becoming quite the recluse during the coronation celebrations. But Lady Braithwaite has got you here and can now crow over less fortunate hostesses for months to come.”

“As you rightly point out, I am here,” Zach replied, looking as bored with the conversation as Nate felt by it. “I don’t know what else she can possibly expect.”

“Oh, Zach, sometimes I despair of you, really I do. You have a responsibility towards society, a position to maintain. Lady Braithwaite will think you are being most disobliging if she sees you lurking…yes lurking is what you are doing in this corner when you had much better employ your time dancing.”

“And excite more speculation as to your intentions.” Nate added helpfully, enjoying his brother’s discomfort, even if he gave no indication that he actually found the subject discomfiting. “Thereby giving the gossipmongers fodder for weeks to come.”

Zach treated Nate to a cool stare and remained silent.

“The same goes for you, Nathaniel Sheridan,” the dowager added. “You have obligations too.”

“It’s too crowded to move, much less dance,” Nate replied good-naturedly. “The new king has been crowned, God help us, and credit where it’s due, Mother, we’ve dutifully attended one celebratory ball after another at your insistence.”

The duchess didn’t look impressed. “And scarcely left the card rooms at any of them.”

“We are not in the card room now,” Nate pointed out.

“Ha, you might as well be for all the interest you take in the proceedings.” She shook a finger beneath both their noses. “I suspect you were just now plotting how to escape to your club without my noticing you had gone.”

“Let it be, Mother,” Zach said in a tone of mild rebuke that Nate knew would silence their mother on a point that had been discussed too often between them to retain its entertainment value. Four of her six children—two sons and both daughters—were now married. Nate could understand why their mother was so keen to see her eldest son, the current duke, comfortably settled and dedicating himself to siring the next generation. Even so, she ought to know by now that she would not achieve that objective by constantly reminding Zach of his duty. Zach was his own man and would not give way to pressure.

Quite the reverse in fact.

“Who is Anna speaking with?” Nate asked, looking over the heads of the crowd and seeing their married sister, now Lady Romsey, in earnest conversation with two ladies who had their backs turned towards Nate. One looked familiar but he was fairly certain he was not acquainted with the other. That profusion of dark curls interspersed with highly unusual amber highlights was rare enough to remain in a man’s memory. Nate rather hoped she wouldn’t turn around since the rest of her was bound to be a disappointment.

“Oh, it’s Frankie and her friend,” their mother said. “A guest from abroad, I believe. Someone whom she met during the course of her marriage, I dare say. She did mention that she was expecting a lady to join her but never did get around to telling me who.”

Nate noticed a minuscule alteration in his brother’s stance that would have gone undetected by anyone who didn’t know him well. It was the only sign of interest he was likely to allow himself. Lady Francesca St. John, a widow and close neighbour to the family’s Winchester estate, was the only female ever to engender the slightest animation in the persona Zach showed to the world. That persona was always especially guarded in situations such as the one they found themselves in now.

No one in the family, not even Amos, the brother closest in age to Zach and his named heir, knew what his intentions towards Frankie St. John actually were—or indeed, if he had any. None of them dared to ask but knew he enjoyed her society and became irritated if other gentlemen paid her too much attention. Why Zach thought they would not was a mystery to Nate. Lady St. John was beautiful, lively, intelligent and well-situated. Of course men—especially those with pockets to let—would be drawn to her.

“Anna’s bringing them over,” the duchess said. “I suppose I ought not to be surprised that your sister has already made herself known to Frankie’s guest. She has lost none of her inquisitiveness or ability to charm since becoming a wife and mother.”

That was undeniably true. Anna had presented her besotted husband with their first child in November. A boy. But if anyone thought that Anna would remain quietly in Southampton and miss the coronation celebrations then they didn’t know her at all. Her husband had to be present. In spite of his best efforts to extricate himself from His Majesty’s Diplomatic Service, he was still heavily relied upon by the Foreign Office. Never more so since the Prince Regent had become the nation’s highly controversial king. Nate chuckled. A skilled and proficient diplomat Romsey might be but when it came to having his wife do as she was told, he had clearly met his match.

“Ah, Mama,” Anna said, “look who I’ve found in the middle of this terrible crush.”

Nate now had no choice but to look at Frankie’s guest. Ready to be disappointed, instead he found himself drowning in the most arresting pair of eyes he could ever recall encountering in any lady’s face. Amber flecked with green, they were alight with excitement as their owner attempted to take in everything and everyone at a glance. It was as though she’d never set foot in a ballroom before and it was all still a novelty for her. Nate had forgotten how that felt, or indeed if society’s mores had ever held him in such thrall.

Nate was perfectly sure he had never had the pleasure of meeting the as yet unnamed lady before. He would have remembered that unusual hair, that elfin face with its defined cheekbones, delicately winged brows and pert little nose; to say nothing of those compelling eyes. He would definitely have remembered that lush mouth with its plump lips, so full and sensual that they held a man’s attention and were more tempting than they had any damned right to be. And how could he possibly have forgotten that expression of unadulterated pleasure at being squashed into a fashionable ballroom with five hundred other people?

If Lady St. John knew her, she couldn’t be a stranger to ballrooms, so why couldn’t Nate place her? He made a point of avoiding unattached ladies for fear of becoming compromised but would most definitely have made an exception for this beauty. She had to be at least nineteen or twenty, Nate thought, well past the age when she would have first made her curtsey to the ton. Perhaps his mother was in the right of it and she was a foreigner. Yet that creamy complexion distinguished her as an English rose of rare and exceptional quality.

Hell’s teeth, he was staring at her like a callow youth and now everyone else was staring at him. Presumably something had been said that required him to make a response but he didn’t have the first idea what it might have been.

“Nate, pay attention,” Anna scolded, looking amused. “This is Lady Katrina Heston, Frankie’s guest. Lady Katrina, my brother, Lord Nathaniel Sheridan.”

Years of stringent training took over and Nate was himself again. He bowed effortlessly, treating Lady Katrina to his most enticing smile as he took her hand and raised her from her curtsey.

“It’s a pleasure to make your acquaintance, Lady Katrina,” he said, for once meaning it.

“Evidently,” muttered Anna, earning herself a sideways look of disapproval from Nate.

Nate greeted Lady St. John and then returned his attention to the lady from whom he had not completely withdrawn it.

“Are you enjoying the ball?” he asked politely.

“Oh yes, immensely.”

Those wretched eyes sparkled with the type of enthusiasm it was unfashionable to display in tonnish society. Beau Brummel had made it de rigueur to affect a laconic attitude in situations such as these. Although Brummel had removed from English shores, no longer in favour, his mannerisms endured. Nate liked the fact that Lady Katrina felt no apparent desire to follow the crowd and that she didn’t seem the slightest bit overawed to meet a duke and his brother, when so often unmarried ladies floundered in that situation.

Nate was no longer absolutely certain that the flecks in her eyes were green. Just when he thought he had settled the matter, they disobligingly changed colour. The rings around the irises were definitely green but as to the rest of the orbs…that would require a more detailed assessment than it would be wise to undertake.

“I don’t believe I’ve seen you in London before now, Lady Katrina,” Nate said. “I am sure I would remember having had the pleasure.”

“Oh, I am sure of that also,” Anna said mischievously.

Nate felt like wringing his sister’s interfering neck. Marriage had not changed her willingness to express her opinions a little too forthrightly. Hardly an attribute that her diplomat of a husband ought to encourage. But if Lady Katrina had understood Anna’s implication she had the goodness not to remark upon it.

Nate assessed his fair companion as she turned to address a remark to Lady St. John. She wore a burnished bronze ball gown of figured silk trimmed with flamboyant swathes of lace that emphasised her trim figure and enticing curves. It suited her colouring and was unusual enough to make her stand out, even in this almighty crush of elegantly attired socialites. Ha, as though she wouldn’t stand out wherever she went! Nate was astonished that she was not already spoken for. Only being hidden away in Europe could possibly account for that situation. Unless of course she had some sort of aversion to matrimony, much as he and Zach did, but that hardly seemed likely. He had yet to meet a young lady who did not dream of making an advantageous marriage. That was the trouble with the ton and the danger Zach and Nate risked each time they stepped out in it.

“Katrina has only just arrived from Brussels,” Lady St. John told them. “She has been with her father who has been detained there on business of a highly delicate nature.”

“Oh, Papa always has something terribly important to do,” Lady Katrina said with a resigned sigh. “Really, he works too hard. I tell him so constantly but he takes no notice whatsoever.”

“And you have been with him all the time?” the duchess asked.

“Oh no, Your Grace. I was at a delightful establishment in Switzerland for many years. When they had had enough of me we were to return to England but, of course, something delayed us.” She flashed a wry smile. “That was two years ago and I would be there still if Frankie had not taken pity on me.”

“I persuaded Lord Heston to spare her.” Lady St. John fixed her charge with an affectionate smile. “I expected her and Lord Heston to return together but when Katrina’s father was detained I volunteered my services as chaperone. And now I have the pleasure of her company indefinitely, until her father does return to England at any rate.”

“You met Heston when you and your husband lived in Paris, I assume,” Zach said.

“Yes, as did Anna’s husband,” Lady St. John replied. “The diplomatic circle is very small and close-knit, especially for the females who form part of it. There is nothing else for us to do other than to befriend one another and patronise the local shops.”

“Papa’s return is bound to be delayed,” Lady Katrina said, screwing up her nose. “It always is and I have long since learned not to make plans based on the assumption that he will be free to fit in with them. It is much better to wait until he is actually with me because some crisis or another that requires his diplomatic intervention almost always occurs at the eleventh hour. Really, why men cannot agree to disagree and get along with one another is a mystery to me, but then if they did, I suppose Papa and your husband, Lady Romsey, would have nothing to do with themselves.”

Anna smiled. “And that would never do. I have four brothers and I know how irritable they can be when they lack occupation.”

“I don’t recall ever being irritable with you, Anna,” Zach said, struggling to suppress his amusement. Anna had made all four of them tear their hair out with her outrageous behaviour on too many occasions to recollect.

“That’s because you have a very selective memory,” Anna replied sweetly.

“You’re quite right, Lady Romsey,” Lady Katrina said with a delightfully wicked smile. “If gentlemen become bored they quarrel amongst themselves and create the sorts of situations that my father and your husband excel at putting to rights.”

Nate and Zach shared a glance, pleasantly surprised at Lady Katrina’s willingness to express her views in such a forthright manner. Nate mentally catalogued his acquaintances, trying to place her father. He’d heard of the Heston but couldn’t recall ever meeting him or seeing him at any social engagements. He wondered if his wife was alive and if so, why she was not in London introducing her daughter to the questionable delights of tonnish society.

“Katrina so wanted to be here for the coronation,” Lady St. John explained, “but her arrival was delayed and she only reached London a few days ago.”

“Yes, it was a dreadful pity to miss all the fun,” Lady Katrina said, pouting. “I so wanted to see it all but the Channel was most disobliging. There were the most terrible storms and my ship couldn’t put to sea for ages. Not that I would have wanted it to since I get terribly seasick. But still, I’m here now and am very grateful to Frankie for staying in town when I know she would much prefer to return to the country.”

Nate decided that this ball had improved considerably now that Lady Katrina was a part of it. She wasn’t straight out of the schoolroom but was new to London society. Most young ladies in her situation were either tongue-tied, giggled continuously or spouted nonsense. Lady Katrina did none of those things. And if she was nervous, she certainly didn’t permit it to show.

“Are you planning to return to Winchester soon, Lady St. John?” Zach asked.

“Well, I had thought I would but—”

“Then we must go!” Lady Katrina impulsively clutched her friend’s hand. “Indeed we must. I would not hear of you altering your plans for my sake. I dare say I shall tire of all this sooner rather than later. I so much prefer the country anyway, if you don’t think I shall get under your feet. If so, don’t be afraid to say so. I can easily go home and await Papa’s return at Heston Hall.”

“I shall be glad to take you with me,” Lady St. John replied. “If you think you won’t be bored.”

“Bored! Not a bit of it. I love to walk, to ride, to draw…goodness, there are never enough hours in the day for all the things I enjoy.”

“You won’t be entirely isolated,” Nate told the ladies. “Amos and Crista have remained at Sheridan Park with their baby daughter. Not even the enticement of seeing the new king crowned could tear them away from her. And Zach and I plan to return in another week or two ourselves.”

“Oh?” The duchess elevated a brow. “I was not aware.”

“I thought I had mentioned it, “Zach replied. “You know I never remain in town for the entire season.”

“Yes, but I thought, with the new king…”

“You must stay, Mother. I know how much you enjoy the entertainments.”

“We shall see,” the duchess replied.

“I shall go back to Southampton soon,” Anna said. “I have neglected our son for too long. Come with me, Mama, if you have nothing better to do and get to know your first grandson.”

“Now that,” the duchess said, smiling at Anna, “is a tempting proposition.”

“How old is your son, Lady…oh, botheration!”

“What is it?” Nate asked.

“Oh, nothing. Pray, don’t mind me.”

But it was very obviously something. Nate was shocked by the abrupt change in Lady Katrina’s demeanour. Gone was the delightful butterfly who so enjoyed the novelty of a society ball and expressed her opinions with such refreshing candour. She was now distracted, unsmiling, looking at her feet. The blame for the abrupt change in her appeared to lie with the gentleman bearing down on them. Nate didn’t know him but didn’t like the way he was looking at Lady Katrina with such hungry determination.

The opening stanza of a waltz struck up and the gentleman increased his pace, trying to force his way through the press of bodies with added urgency but obliged to stop and apologise each time he nudged anyone a little too hard. Nate glanced at Lady Katrina’s increasingly disturbed expression, then at the gentleman responsible for it, and came to a decision that didn’t require a great deal of thought.