Page 1 of Courting Scandal With The Duke
Chapter One
Spring 1817
The start of the London Season
Rain pitter-pattered on the roof of the carriage. Rain mixed with snow if Barbara wasn’t mistaken.
‘What a dreadful evening,’ Barbara’s Great-Aunt Lenore moaned from the recesses of her corner of the carriage. ‘Are we to ever have some decent weather?’
While not even the glow of a street lamp pierced the gloom inside the carriage, Barbara did not doubt the dissatisfaction pasted on the older woman’s expression. She also sensed her fingers restlessly twisting her handkerchief.
‘March in England,’ Barbara said coolly. ‘’Tis only to be expected.’ She pulled her indigo velvet cloak closer about her person. Rain. It could not have worked out better.
‘I hope you remember all that I told you, Barbara,’ her aunt said anxiously. ‘The rules.’
The rules of Almack’s were strictures that every young lady new upon the town must obey or for ever be ostracised. Her aunt had a reason to be anxious. She knew Barbara’s lack of fondness for regulations. In the darkness, it was easy for Barbara to hide her glee. ‘I have them memorised.’
It would not do to show that inside she was bubbling with resentment and anger and… Well, a kind of naughty anticipation. ‘Let me see.’ She counted the items off on the fingers of her gloved hand. ‘Do not dance until you have been approved by a hostess. Do not dance with the same gentleman more than twice. Do not—’
‘I think you should not dance more than once. Not on your first visit, at least.’
‘Isn’t dancing the whole purpose of Almack’s? Would it be so scandalous to dance more than once?’ Barbara asked, grabbing for the strap as the carriage lurched around a corner.
Her aunt raised her walking stick and banged on the trapdoor. ‘Slow down!’
The carriage’s speed reduced to a crawl, no doubt to the annoyance of every other conveyance on the street.
Barbara swallowed her urge to laugh.
‘Not scandalous, no,’ Aunt Lenore said. ‘But there would be no reason you should. After all, you do not know any gentlemen. We will be lucky if any of them ask you to dance tonight. I think it is most unfortunate that your father has kept you out of England all these many years. Followingthe drum. I ask you.’
‘Good gracious, Aunt, you have me sounding like some round-heeled washerwoman.’
Her aunt gave a little squeal. ‘Barbara. I implore you. Do not use such language. You are a lady. Act like one, for heaven’s sake.’
‘I must add that to your list of rules, Aunt. No unseemly language.’
‘That is not a rule. It is common sense.’
‘Hmm. What else? Oh, act modestly. Debutantes wear white.’ Barbara’s ostrich feathers were white. Married ladies could wear other colours, muted greys and so forth. Her aunt hadn’t thought to mention widows. ‘Speak when spoken to, especially with regard to the hostesses. Will I know who they are?’
‘Of course you will. Did I not say I would introduce you? Indeed, your father insisted upon it. As soon as possible.’
Her father insisted upon a great many things. ‘Did he indicate when he would be in London?’
‘Not to me. I thought he might have written to you of his plans.’
‘Ah. Plans.’ Father’s plans were like dandelion clocks. They blew thither and yon in the slightest wind. Never seeming to settle anywhere. Until they did. Barbara was always the last to know. But this time she’d had advance warning of one of them. Foolish of Father in the extreme, as it turned out.
‘I did mention,’ her Aunt went on, ‘did I not, that you are not to dance the waltz with anyone?’Aunt Lenore said. ‘Not on your debut.’
‘Several times, Aunt.’ Barbara hoped she sounded suitably meek. ‘I don’t know why you are making such a fuss. I’m not some miss fresh out of school. I have been married. Twice. A widow can do more or less as she pleases.’
‘Pish posh. You were married to foreigners. On foreign soil. It is not at all the same. And besides, your father is very keen for you to make an excellent match. This Season. His wishes were very clear. It is very important.’
Father be hanged! Barbara cared little about his wishes. Her own wish was to remain steadfastly unwed until she reached twenty-five years of age in a year’s time. That was when she would have access to the money left her by her first husband instead of having to rely on whatever Father decided to dole out to her. As long as she could avoid marriage.
If she did marry, on her twenty-fifth birthday, the money would automatically be handed over to her husband instead.
