Page 22 of A Duke to Undo her
“Do you have an orangery here at Ashbourne, Your Grace?” asked Lady Belinda politely.
Cassius looked distractedly at his elegant and well-spoken guest, nodding, shaking his head and then shrugging. Lady Belinda reminded him of an overly-pretty china doll, of the kind given to little girls at Christmas, aesthetically pleasing and entirely without personality or spirit. She was the opposite of LadyJosephine who had far too much of both, in addition to her physical attractions.
“My mother is the horticulturalist in this family,” he answered briefly, too occupied in his consideration of the two young people on the sofa to turn his mind to orangeries.
To the Duke of Ashbourne’s eyes, the pair resembled wriggling puppies playing together rather than lovers. He guessed that Benedict was in no real danger of falling in love at all.
He might, however, still marry Lady Josephine because she made him laugh and shared his free-spirited attitude to life. As the conversation between the brothers had indicated that morning, if pushed too far, Benedict might even marry her only to pique Cassius…
Whatever the reasons, the thought of ever having Lady Josephine Thomson as his sister-in-law, and the next Duchess of Ashbourne, was intolerable on every level. Cassius pulled at his stock, feeling hot, bothered and constricted by the very thought. He very much hoped his mother was right and that this week would act as a corrective to Benedict’s early enthusiasm.
“Lady Penelope has offered to play the pianoforte for us after dinner, Cassius,” said the dowager duchess, seeking to direct his attention back to another of her eligible young ladies. “I have told her how much you enjoy music."
Lady Penelope? He had already forgotten which one she was and bestowed a vague smile on all the young ladies aroundhis mother, in order to save making an error. Frankly, every woman in the room seemed forgettable to him, except for Lady Josephine, who was memorable in all the worst possible ways: that half-tamed mass of auburn hair, those insolent green eyes, that pert little mouth…
God, the temptation to tumble the unknowingly hot-blooded young woman under a hedge at that infernal garden party had been almost overwhelming. Lady Josephine likely had no idea how close she had come to losing her virtue that afternoon. She seemed to think that there were no reasons for the strictures and conventions of society and that she could ignore them at will.
It was damned lucky for Lady Josephine that the Duke of Ashbourne was no rake. Yes, he had enjoyed the animated softness of her lips and the eagerness of her small hands but as soon as his mind mastered his blood, the idea of so crudely deflowering an inexperienced young woman appalled him.
Cassius knew well enough that there were ample experienced older women in the ton who might seek to satisfy their mutual desires with minimal risk to either side. Still, Lady Josephine played with fire whenever she sought him out and defied him, if only she knew it.
Now, Benedict’s companion was sketching out some other plan with broad gestures in the air and the duke found his eyes transfixed once more by those small but long-fingered hands. He knew how they felt around his waist, running over his shoulders and arms, pulling him towards her hungry kisses… No, this would not do!
“I’m going to speak to Bennett about the wines for this evening and tomorrow,” he announced abruptly to his mother. “We will be in the cellars.”
Chapter Ten
“Lady Belinda plays the pianoforte well, doesn’t she?” commented Vera as they strolled from the music room back to the drawing room that evening. “I believe she is quite as good as Constance was on the instrument at the same age.”
“Oh, yes,” Josephine agreed with her sister, although she had actually spent most of the recital giggling with Benedict Emerton at the back of the room, speculating on which of the now complete party of twenty guests might be induced to play blind-man’s buff or musical chairs on another evening. “She plays very well indeed, I should think.”
Josephine could not, in fact, recall a single piece that had been played and felt guilty for it now. It was impolite not to have listened at least a little.
“I’m glad you enjoyed it too, Josephine. It was longer than I anticipated and I know you get restless.”
The younger sister shook her head and squeezed Lady Elmridge’s arm in its long cream evening glove.
“I had Mr. Emerton’s company and can never be bored when we’re together,” Josephine assured Vera.
Excluding that heart-racing first encounter with the Duke of Ashbourne, Josephine had actually thoroughly enjoyed her first day at Ashbourne Castle. Cassius Emerton had absented himself entirely until dinner, leaving his mother to host older and more sedentary guests in the house while Benedict led Josephine and more active members of the party on a first exploration of the grounds.
There had been sunshine, laughter and an informal buffet luncheon under the shade of some beech trees beside the top lawn. Josephine even had the chance to paddle on the shores of the lake alongside Mr. Emerton, enjoying the cold water and squelchy sand beneath her feet while Lady Belinda and another young lady hung back under their parasols with an expression of distaste.
For dinner, Vera had approved her choice of a favorite blue silk evening gown and simple hairstyle, requiring very little primping and pinning. That particular dress was two years old now and tighter at the bosom than Josephine thought it had been when first made up. It was hardly surprising, she supposed. She had been barely eighteen years then and now she was a full-grown woman of twenty.
Josephine noticed the brief and slightly pained glance that the Duke of Ashbourne first gave when his eyes fell briefly on her neckline as she appeared for dinner. It did make her feel real injustice to be judged for something so small, and so unfair.
Vera had a perfect sense of propriety and would never have let Josephine dress indecently. In addition, Lady Belinda’s dress was lower cut and the duke paid no heed whatsoever to that, or the dress of any other young lady present. It seemed she must accept that Cassius Emerton was simply rude and didn’t like her.
Well, Josephine didn’t like him either, and presumably to their mutual satisfaction, they had been seated as far away from one another as possible at the dinner table. Josephine sat with Mr. Emerton, hoping that this arrangement would be repeated often during the week. His conversation was always cheerful and polite and she never once caught him eying her bosom.
“Who is for whist?” asked Benedict Emerton cheerfully once the party had reassembled and refueled itself with coffee, the clocks around the house just striking ten. “I have had card tables set out in the room next door and fancy a few rounds before bed.”
While some of the older guests excused themselves either to their beds, or to the comfortable seats around the dowager duchess in the drawing room, many of the younger guests trooped eagerly after Mr. Emerton into the adjoining room. They were soon arranged in two games at two tables, with Josephine in a pair with Mr. Emerton.
While the Duke of Ashbourne did not play, and Josephine was determined to ignore him, she was still conscious of his presence from the first moment he entered the room, following both games with his too-interested dark blue eyes.
“We win again!” Josephine crowed happily at the conclusion of a second game. “It is lucky we play only for coppers tonight, Vera, or you and Lady Barnabas would be quite broke.”
