Loving a Duke in Disguise (Preview)

Prologue
1802

Selina looked back and saw that her parents were still occupied with what they were doing. The Marquess of Downe was sitting on the blanket they had laid on the sand reading a book, and the marchioness was having her temples massaged by Nanny Letty. Selina wondered if her mother ever got through the day without a headache. Then again, she was always shouting, so she was probably hurting her head with all of that. Selina’s head hurt whenever the marchioness raised her voice.

Why did she have to shout so much? It was as if her mother was too impatient for anything. It seemed to be the worst when it came to her husband. Downe didn’t like it, but he kept quiet whenever Selina was around. As soon as she was gone, though, that was when the arguments started. Selina wanted to cry when she heard that. Why didn’t her parents love each other? They didn’t seem to like their spouse from what she had overheard.

At least they hadn’t argued much since coming to Brighton from Buckinghamshire. They both wanted a holiday and it was the end of summer, so there would be fewer people crowding the beach. At the time, Selina had been eager about seeing the sea. There was a bit of tension between her parents so far, but Selina did her best to ignore it. She wanted to enjoy her holiday to the seaside.

Although, as she stood at the edge of the water and stared out at the waves lapping over each other and crashing into the sand, getting closer and closer to her shoes, Selina began to wish that she wasn’t here. The sea looked so ominous, so black and frightening. Even with the clear blue sky, the shining sun, and the gulls happily flying over the surface as they searched for fish, the sea was terrifying. Selina felt the fear grip her and she couldn’t move.

This was scary. She wanted to get away, but her feet refused to shift. She imagined the water touching her, hands reaching out to grab her dress, and then dragging her into the sea as Selina screamed, powerless to do anything about it.

She had to stop that. She was eight now, old enough to know that this way of thinking was irrational. And yet Selina couldn’t stop.

“Careful!”

Hands grabbed her from behind and yanked her backwards. Selina screamed, and she lost her balance, ending up on the sand. She looked up and saw a boy standing over her. A very tall boy as well, his head blocking out the sun. He scowled at her.

“You were going to get yourself soaked like that,” he scolded. “Standing that close to the water’s edge when the tide is coming in?”

“You didn’t need to grab me like that,” Selina shot back, sitting up and seeing that she had been pulled away from the edge of the sea. It was still creeping up the sand, though, and that made her scramble to her feet. She dusted herself down. “Why didn’t you just tell me?”

“I tried. I called out to you at least four times before I pulled you away.” The boy put his hands on his hips. “Where are your parents? You shouldn’t be wandering around here on your own.”

Selina lifted her chin defiantly, placing her hands on her hips, mimicking his stance.

“I’m eight years old!” she declared. “I’m more than old enough to be walking around without having to be with a parent.”

“Oh, really?” The boy arched an eyebrow. “I’m sure they would be delighted to hear how you almost got swept away by the tide. They shouldn’t take their eyes off you when you’re more likely to get pulled out to sea.”

Selina didn’t want to hear that; it reminded her of how she felt like she was being dragged under the water. Already, she could feel her throat closing up.

“I was perfectly fine,” she pouted. “I would have just ruined my shoes.”

“Think your parents can afford to replace them?”

“Well, my father is a marquess. He can easily afford anything I want.” Selina looked the older boy up and down. “How about I tell him that someone is being horrible to me and tackled me like I’m another one of the boys running around the beach?”

“I’m sure your father would love to discuss that with my father, a duke,” the boy replied with a slight smile.

Selina faltered. He was the son of a duke? Her natural instinct to cower started coming back, and Selina took a step back. It didn’t help that fact he was clearly older; he had to be at least fourteen or fifteen. Normally, whenever Selina interacted with boys and girls that age they were not very nice to her. Selina was naturally wary of older children due to their behavior. Her annoyance at being grabbed and manhandled faded away rapidly.

“Forgive me,” she mumbled, unable to look him in the eye.

“For what?”

“For shouting at you.”

Selina could barely look up, staring at her shoes. Then she saw his shoes appear before her, and the boy ruffled her hair, digging a couple of pins into her scalp. Selina squealed and pushed his hand away.

“Ouch!”

“You don’t need to be apologizing. At least you’re not soaking wet.” The boy sounded amused. “I’ve been building a sandcastle a bit further up the beach. Do you want to join me or do you want to go back to your parents?”

Selina wanted to run back to her mother and father. She was embarrassed that she had been rude to a duke’s son. But she didn’t want the boy to see her nerves. Biting her lip, she nodded.

“All right. But not for too long. Nanny Letty will wonder where I am.”

“Can you see them around here?”

Selina looked and spied her family further up the beach. They weren’t looking her way, her father still absorbed with his book and her mother still having her temples massaged. Selina pointed.

“That’s them.”

“And I’m right here.” The boy pointed to a nearby mound of sand. “Do you want to help me or shall I escort you back?”

“I’ll help you,” Selina said quickly. “I like building.”

“Oh?”

Selina nodded shyly. She had building blocks at home, and she played more with those than most of her other toys, including her dolls and the toys her mother wanted her to play with. The marchioness got frustrated whenever she saw her daughter not playing as she was supposed to. Her husband told her to stop fussing and Selina would find them interesting eventually, but Selina didn’t want to. Having them pushed onto her was not likely to get her focused in another direction. Building was more fascinating for her.

“Come on, then.” The boy beckoned her to follow her. “You can help me with this.”

“Are you sure?”

“You’re not afraid of me, are you?” He tilted his head to one side. “I know I might have scared you just now getting you away from the water, but I’m not that bad. I promise.”

Selina didn’t know about that, but she was more thinking about the fact that she was playing with a duke’s son, an older boy. And he was being kind to her, something she was surprised about. Selina wanted to hang around him and be able to boast to her friends that she had played with a duke’s son. He was bigger than her, and that scared her.

But he seemed to be making an effort. Selina decided that was enough.

She joined him at the mound and watched as the boy crouched and began to scoop sand up into his hands.

“What are you planning on making?” she asked. “What sort of sandcastle?”

“I don’t know yet. Maybe a mott and bailey castle.”

“Mott and bailey?” Selina frowned. “What’s that?”

“It’s a castle up on high ground with a moat around it.” He pointed at the hole he was digging around the mound. “This is going to be the moat. I’ll bring the water up from the sea and fill it in once I’ve done the castle itself.”

“But you haven’t got a bucket.” Selina looked around. “How are you going to get water?”

“Maybe I’ll wait for the tide to come in and the water will fill it in then. Although I’ll have gone back to our house by then, so I won’t be able to see it.”

Selina began to pick up sand, bunching it into her hands, and placing it on the top of the mound, shaping it into a turret. Then she began to delicately carve it out, sticking her tongue out as she did. It wasn’t that bad, but it was better than a ball of sand.

At least it distracted her from the sea, which was lapping away not far off from where they were now.

#

Christopher watched the little girl as she created the turrets on the top of his makeshift castle. It wasn’t actually that bad. She had a general idea of what went on a castle, and she seemed to be very focused on it. It was like she had almost forgotten that he was there.
When he had seen her at the edge of the sea, Christopher had been worried. With the gown she was wearing, it only took a little bit of water to make it heavy and she was going to get dragged in. The slightest distraction was enough to be fatal.

Her nanny should have been watching her if the parents weren’t, but from what Christopher saw when the girl pointed, she was busy with the mother. It looked odd doing that on a beach, but Christopher wasn’t about to make a judgment over something that wasn’t his business. It was not his family, so he was staying quiet. His father always told him to keep out of things that other families got involved in. He was still a child and too young to deal with any of it. Christopher was fifteen and wanted to object to that, but he knew that his father and mother wouldn’t listen to him until he came of age. Fifteen-year-olds didn’t have the life experience.

Maybe he didn’t have that, but he was certainly observant. Those parents of the little girl didn’t seem to care. They were in their own worlds and not paying attention to their child. If they had been watching, they would have noticed that she could have gotten hurt.

But Christopher bit his tongue. He had to leave it be. While he wasn’t keen on playing with someone much younger than him – she couldn’t have been any older than eight years old – it made him feel like he was doing something.

And she could build. She was quickly finishing the turret and it looked good. Christopher was impressed.

“You’re good,” he remarked.

The little girl smiled shyly.

“Thank you.”

“You know what castles look like?”

“I have lessons with my governess. We’ve learned about castles, and I’ve seen pictures.” She beamed at him. “I really like the look of castles. They were such huge fortresses and protected those inside from invasion.”

“Not all of them,” Christopher pointed out. “But there are several that are still standing and look like they’re as sturdy as ever despite having been built nearly eight hundred years ago.”

“Ever since…” she frowned as she tried to remember. “The Battle of Hastings? Is that right? King…William?”

“Not bad. That’s him. He brought over the ideas from France, where he lived, and soon we had castles everywhere.”

“I like history,” the girl admitted, her cheeks going a little pink as she picked up more sand. “But Mother says that I shouldn’t be that interested in history. I should focus more on sewing and poetry. I can’t sew, and my poetry is awful. I love to read, but I’m not good at writing stories.”

“Neither am I. We can’t be good at everything.” Christopher leaned forward and lowered his voice to a whisper. “My favorite subject was art. I wanted to be an artist when I was your age. But Father said that I wasn’t allowed to become one. I’m the heir, so I can’t do something like that.”

“But do you still like art?” she asked.

“I do. I sketch sometimes.”

“Can I see?”

Christopher shook his head.

“I don’t show it to anyone. I draw just for me.”

“Not even for your parents? They might like them.”

“If you ever meet then, you’ll understand why.” Christopher stopped building the moat and watched as the girl built another tower. “Do you know the stories of the princess locked up in the tower?”

“I’ve had a few read to me. But I don’t like them.”

“Why not?”

She made a face.

“Waiting around for someone to do something. It makes her feel weak and incapable of doing anything, like she’s not able to do something for herself when people need her.”

Christopher raised his eyebrows. He hadn’t heard that before.

“You’ve given it a lot of thought, haven’t you?”

“Why would you lock a princess into a tower? It just proves that you’re a bad person.” She stopped building, looking quite animated. “She’s the daughter of the king, so she is supposed to be strong and courageous. Just because she’s a girl and not a boy doesn’t mean she’s immediately considered weak.”

Christopher peered at her curiously. She sounded adamant about it. And she did have a point, although trying to argue that point would result in her getting ignored and called a silly girl. Christopher didn’t think it was silly at all. In fact, it was rather articulate for a young child.

“So you think that princesses are meant to be strong?” he asked. “That they can overcome adversity?”

“Advers…what’s that word?”

“Overcoming obstacles that get in the way. Something like that. Do you think princesses can do that?”

“Of course.” She nodded confidently. “They’re children of kings and queens. They’re raised to be strong. Just like princes.”

“Princes are normally strong, anyway. They have to grow up and become kings eventually.”

She peered at him in a way that made Christopher feel a little uncomfortable.

“Do you think you could be a prince?” she asked. “Do you think you’re strong?”

“I…I like to think I am.” Christopher cleared his throat and attempted to steer it away from him. “I am not afraid of the water, after all.”

Something flashed behind her eyes. Interesting. Was she taking that as a challenge? Then she walked past him towards the water’s edge.

Confused, Christopher scrambled to his feet and hurried after her. What was she doing?

She went to the water and, after a moment’s hesitation, stepped onto the wet sand. Christopher was about to grab her and pull her away, but the waves lapped over her shoes. He watched as she moved a little further into the water until it was up to her ankles.

“What on earth are you doing?” He hurried after her, his shoes splashing water everywhere and he grabbed her arm. “Why are you trying to walk into the sea?”

“If I’m a princess, then I’m meant to be strong, aren’t I?” She looked up at him with such dark blue eyes that he was momentarily left reeling. “Then I can conquer my fear of the sea, right?”

“But not at the expense of your own life!” Christopher led her back onto the dry sand. “What are your parents going to say about your wet shoes? The edge of your dress is wet as well!”

She kept those eyes on him, and Christopher felt like he wanted to squirm. How was he on the back foot with a child younger than him?

“If you’re a strong prince, then I’m a strong princess,” she declared. “You would prefer to marry a strong princess, wouldn’t you?”

That was so out of place that Christopher couldn’t help but laugh.

“Well, when you put it like that…”

“Lady Selina!”

Christopher turned. The nanny was hurrying towards them, grabbing her skirts to keep herself from tripping over and landing face first in the sand. Selina beamed at her.

“I’m not scared of the water, Nanny Letty! I’m a strong princess!”

“What do you think you’re doing?” Nanny Letty reached them, looking shocked at her state. “Your shoes! They’re brand new! And your stockings, too!”

“I’m not scared…”

“You need to come back with me right now. You shouldn’t wander off like that.” Nanny Letty gave Christopher a brisk nod. “Forgive my charge. She shouldn’t be bothering anyone else.”

“She was no bother at all,” Christopher replied.

He wasn’t sure if the nanny heard him, though, because she was hustling little Selina away. The girl looked over her shoulder at him, and then those blue-black eyes were gone, her black curls bouncing around her head as she was led back up the beach. Christopher watched her go, wondering what had just happened in the last few minutes. It felt like so much had occurred in such a short space of time.

Lady Selina, for such a young age, was an interesting child.

Chapter One

1816

“Here we go, you two,” Letitia Benson placed the tray in front of the ladies at the table. “And make sure you eat every scrap.”

“Of course we will, Nanny Letty,” Selina grinned at her as she selected a slice of cake. “Whenever you make something, we can’t help but eat absolutely everything.”

Beside her, Anne Carrol laughed.

“I’m half-expecting Selina to start licking up the crumbs like a dog. She’s that enamored with your baking.”

Mrs. Benson beamed, laughing at Selina’s expression as she went back into the kitchen, returning a moment with a teapot.

“Oh, I wouldn’t be sure about that. Selina has an ability to make even the crumbs disappear. It’s a knack that she has, ever since she was a little girl.”

“Nanny!” Selina squirmed in her chair. “I thought you said you would never embarrass me like that again.”

Mrs. Benson winked as she poured out the tea.

“Oh, forgive me, dear. It’s a force of habit. You know I’m fond of you regardless of what goes on, don’t you?”

“I know, but you still don’t need to do that, not even in front of Anne.”

Anne giggled and nudged her friend.

“I think I can imagine it all too well.”

Selina groaned, which just made her friend and former nanny laugh. Finishing pouring out the tea, Mrs. Benson sat opposite them.

“Tell me what you think. Solomon’s mother used to make it, and she said it was a family recipe that’s been passed down for several generations. Now that she’s struggling to bake anything with her swollen hands, Solomon asked if I could do it instead.”

“And we’re testing it for your mother-in-law?” Anne asked with a sly smile.

“Oh, shush, silly girl. I was honored to be asked. Solomon says I know how to make magic when I’m creating my sweets and cakes, and you know it, too.”

Selina and Anne did know. They often came into the confectionary shop Mr. and Mrs. Benson now owned, and they had tried pretty much all the sweets on display. Some were delicious and they kept getting more, and some were not as great, but Selina wasn’t really keen on sour treats. Mr. Benson even asked them what they should put into their new batch of sweets out the back.

“How’s Mr. Benson?” Selina asked, taking a bite into the cake and almost moaning as the flavors burst in her mouth. “Is he keeping well?”

“Very well. He’s gone to visit his mother today, and then he’ll be back later. Hopefully, he catches you before you leave.” Mrs. Benson’s expression softened. “He’ll be sad if he missed you, Selina.”

Selina felt a warmth blossom in her chest when she heard that. Mrs. Benson had been her nanny from when she was a baby, and when Selina was eleven, Mrs. Benson had married Mr. Solomon Benson, a neighbor who had been quite sweet on her for some time. She left working as a nanny for Selina’s family, but Selina saw her often. They were still very fond of each other, and Mr. and Mrs. Benson doted on Selina like their own. Eleven years later and the pair were still as much in love as ever.

Unlike Selina’s parents. She bit back a sigh as she thought about the way the marquess and marchioness treated each other over the years. Lots of snide comments and remarks that made Selina very uncomfortable when she heard them. Other people hearing them might have thought it was just a married couple jesting with each other, but Selina knew better. Of course she understood that their marriage was one of convenience and not of love, and it didn’t help when her mother was only able to have one child to live beyond infancy – Selina – but their hatred had seeped into every part of the house. Selina took as much time as she could away from the various estates they had, either out in the country or in London. She tried to keep out of their way to the point Selina wondered if her parents remembered that they had a daughter.
It wasn’t anyone’s fault that her two brothers had died in their crib when they were six months old. Nor was it their fault when her sister caught scarlet fever and died when she was one. All of this before Selina was born. Like them, she was innocent in all of this, but with the way her parents acted, she knew they resented her for not being a boy.

She wished that they would just live in different houses, away from each other. Selina didn’t want to be around either of them when they got going again. If they hated each other, why live under the same roof or even interact? It was madness.

And Selina was meant to be the child in the family.

“So, how are things at home with you, Miss Carroll?” Mrs. Benson asked, sipping her tea. “Are they still trying to push you to go out and find a potential husband?”

“I’m afraid so.” Anne sighed. “They don’t like that it’s been four years since I entered Society and I’ve not had anyone interested in me. I know it’s my fault, being as I am…”

“It’s not your fault at all, Anne,” Selina insisted, putting a hand on her friend’s arm and giving it a squeeze. “The gentlemen around here just don’t pay attention to the real person. All they care about is appearances and not the person themselves.”

“Even so, they do have a point.” Anne bit her lip. “I’m too shy to be around anyone. I just can’t get myself to be confident enough to talk to others.”

“It will come in time, dear,” Mrs. Benson assured her. “Don’t you worry about anything. Eventually, someone will see the person you really are, and they’ll look after you. If they love you, they’ll accept everything. Besides, you might find that your shyness disappears around them.”

Selina had been thinking the same thing. When she was around people she was comfortable with, Anne Carrol was a warm-hearted, intelligent girl with a quick wit who could easily hold a conversation. But when it came to others, especially those she wanted to impress or those who had a habit of looking down their noses at them, her ability to speak stalled. She had a stutter that became prominent, especially around good-looking gentlemen. It was enough for them to turn away, thinking that she was stupid.

Selina fumed thinking about that. It was just madness that anyone would turn Anne down just because of a stutter. And it was driving her parents, Baron and Baroness Stanton, mad that they couldn’t find someone willing to marry their timid daughter.

“And what about you, Selina?” Mrs. Benson asked, turning her green eyes onto her former charge. “You’ve not had a suitor lately, and I haven’t heard you talk about a gentleman.”

Selina shook her head, taking another bite of her cake, cupping her hand under her mouth to catch the crumbs.

“I’m not about to get married to a pretentious man, Nanny Letty. You know my views on that.”

“I’m aware of it, but I was wondering if you had changed your mind. The Countess of Ely had come in with Viscountess Rashford the other day and was talking about how her son was talking about asking you to walk out with him. She was very surprised as she wasn’t aware that you two had been talking about it, but she was happy that he had an interest.”

Selina blinked.

“What? Are you talking about Viscount Norton?”

“I believe that’s him.”

Selina shook her head.

“Well, it’s good to know that he’s still up to his old tricks.”

“Old tricks?”

Anne grimaced, putting her teacup down before picking up her cake again.

“Viscount Norton has done this before. He says that he’s planning on courting someone he’s barely spoken to, and then he suddenly claims that he was turned down, and that gets his mother’s derision towards the young ladies he had his eye on.”

“I remember that incident last year with Lady Annabelle Hamlet. She was very public about turning him down after he pestered her for weeks.”

Mrs. Benson tilted her head towards Selina. “And now he’s saying he’s going to court you. Do you think he’s going to do the same?”

“More than likely. But he barely talks to me, so asking me to court someone like him is not going to happen.”

Selina didn’t think that Viscount Samuel Norton would have anyone who wanted to marry him, anyway. He was not a very nice person. Plus, his attitude towards people around him made others give him a wide berth. The Earl of Ely was very aware of it, but the countess believed that her son was simply misunderstood and he was unfairly judged by everyone around him. She wasn’t going to listen to reason.

Not that Selina cared. She didn’t like Lady Ely, either. It was easy to see where her son got his attitude from.

“You know, Lady Ely isn’t the only one who’s talked about you, Selina,” Mrs. Benson commented. “A few more older ladies have had your name on their lips.”

Selina groaned.

“What did they say?”

“That they couldn’t understand why you wouldn’t marry. The daughter of a marquess with great beauty and wealth, you’re considered one of the most eligible women in the country. And yet you refuse to entertain any of that. They can’t understand why you’re refusing marriage.”

“But you know the reason, don’t you?”

Her former nanny nodded.

“You’ve said many times. While I don’t agree with it, I understand your mentality.”

“I understand it as well,” Anne chimed in with a slight frown. “With the way things are going for me, I would marry a commoner as well. Less drama with money and status.”

Selina smiled. At least these two understood. After witnessing how people behaved in the ton, and how her parents treated each other, Selina did not want to marry for money, status or anything related to her title. She wanted love, and only for love. And if they were a commoner with no title at all, then that was even better.

Unfortunately, due to her social standing, that was going to be easier said than done. Selina knew that even commoners would know her status and if they were aware of what she wanted, they would want to be around her for her money. Selina was, essentially, stuck. She couldn’t have what she wanted.

If that was the case, she would rather remain unmarried. It meant that she could help Anne find herself a husband, even if it was slow going. Anne was a beautiful young woman, but her stuttering just got in the way. Selina wanted to make sure that Anne found herself a loving husband who didn’t see her as simple. Anne deserved to have a man who saw the real person behind the nerves. She wanted to help with that.
If it meant putting her own chance of marriage to the side, so be it. Her friend was more important.

“Is there any cake left for me?”

A familiar voice from the doorway had all three ladies turning around in their chairs. A tall, thin man with fair hair leaned against the doorway, giving them a lopsided smile. Mrs. Benson beamed.

“David! I didn’t know you were going to be here.” She stood up and approached the young man. “I thought you were going to be busy with work.”

“I managed to get the afternoon off, so I thought I’d come and see how you were.” The man accepted a kiss on both cheeks from the woman. “What’s wrong with spending time with my mother?”

“Nothing at all! You know I’m always happy to see you around.” Mrs. Benson beckoned him over to the table. “Come on over and sit down. We were just having some cake. There’s plenty to go around. Isn’t there, girls?”

Anne simply gave a tiny smile. Selina could see that she was withdrawing back into her shell again. She looked at the newcomer and gave him a nod.

“Mr. McDonald.”

“Lady Selina.” David McDonald bowed to her, his eyes never leaving her. “You’re looking as lovely as always.”

Selina arched an eyebrow.

“I…thank you. I think.”

“Oh, don’t embarrass the girl, David.” Mrs. Benson swatted David’s arm as he sat in the chair between her and Selina. “That might charm the girls in America, but it won’t do the same with Selina. You know that.”

“I thought paying compliments was appropriate, though,” David said, winking at Selina. “You wouldn’t want me to be rude, would you?”

“It’s fine, Nanny Letty, you don’t need to tell him off,” Selina assured her former nanny. “It’s something I’m used to, but it’s not something that happens very often.”

“Well, if you will shut yourself off from the ton when you’re meant to be socializing with everyone,” David pointed out, settling back in his chair. “I’ve heard that you choose not to go out to many social engagements when your attendance would be much appreciated.”

Selina wondered where he had heard that. Probably from one of his patients; they loved to gossip to anyone who was willing to listen.

“I’m not too bothered at how many social engagements I attend, Mr. McDonald,” she said. “I find that they can be rather pretentious with the people present. That’s not really what I want to be around.”

“You don’t think that you should take advantage of your status in the ton?” David asked. “Being an eligible lady means you would be a big focus.”

“And I don’t care for that. I prefer to be left alone.”

Selina was about to mention that she planned to help Anne gain her confidence to find someone who would fall in love with her, but she wasn’t about to say that out loud. She didn’t want to embarrass her friend.

“If I were you, I’d make the most of it.” David took a plate of cake from his mother and took a bite, swallowing before continuing. “You might regret it a few years down the line not putting yourself into the center of attention and finding yourself a husband.”

Selina snorted.

“There are more important things in life than finding a wealthy husband, Mr. McDonald. I don’t put all of my efforts into searching for someone to marry, otherwise I’ll find myself disappointed.”

“I don’t know. You’re a very pretty woman, Lady Selina.” David held up a hand as his mother swatted him. “I’m just making an observation, Mother. That’s all. Am I not allowed to make a remark like that?”

“You’re going to be making Selina blush if you carry on like that,” Mrs. Benson admonished with a smile. “Just eat your cake and use that mouth to be busy chewing.”

Selina giggled, which had David glancing at her. She turned away and tried to fight back the laughter, but she caught Anne’s eye and saw the smile tugging at her mouth, which just made her giggles escape. Mrs. Benson shook her head with a sigh.

“It’s like you’re children again. Giggling over everything.”

“My apologies, Nanny Letty.” Selina picked up her teacup and took a sip. “We’ll try and restrain ourselves.”

“I’m surprised you still call Mother ‘Nanny Letty’ when she hasn’t been your nanny for over a decade,” David commented. “She got married not long before I left the country.”

Selina shrugged.

“It’s a force of habit, that’s all. She’s always going to be known as Nanny Letty to me.”

“It’s nothing to worry about, dear,” Mrs. Benson said to her son. “I don’t mind.”

“I’m not worried, Mother. I’m just curious, that’s all.” David regarded Selina thoughtfully. “It’s nice to know that you have that bond with Mother. She was good at doing that with everyone.”

Selina wasn’t sure what to say to that. David had been making comments over recent weeks. They were innocent enough, but at the same time…

She didn’t see him much, though, due to his work. He wasn’t a member of the ton, despite his abilities as a doctor who was at the beck and call of several wealthy families in London already. Even though he had only been back in America for four months after being away for several years, David had made himself rather popular with everyone, especially the poorer families due to him offering his services for nothing. Selina admired that about him. He had been doing some good since he had returned. She remembered him always being a kind and considerate young man when she had been a child. They hadn’t interacted much – David was almost ten years her senior, so he was off studying at medical school – but when they did Selina recalled how much of a gentleman he was. Mrs. Benson had raised him well.

However, there was something different about him. Selina couldn’t put her finger on it. It wasn’t obvious, but she was sure about it.

Maybe it was due to having been apart for so long. It had been ten years, after all, since David left for America to start a life over there. And he was a lot older than her, Mrs. Benson’s son from her first marriage, so Selina hadn’t really paid much attention. She was probably looking for something that wasn’t there, being naturally suspicious.

She didn’t have a lot of faith in her gut instincts, though. Not with the childhood she had experienced. It was hard to understand what was genuine and what was false when Selina had been around her parents for so long. She had heard them making barbed remarks so much it was hard to know if someone was being true to their word.

Another reason she didn’t want to marry into Society. She had had enough of it all to last a lifetime.

#

“Your Grace?”

Christopher looked up from the pamphlet he had been reading. His steward Allen had entered the study without him noticing. He frowned.

“I know my presence for more than a couple of weeks is unusual for you, Allen, but could you please remember to knock when you come into my study?”

“I did knock, Your Grace. Twice.” Allen raised his eyebrows. “Whatever you’re reading had your attention more than anything else.”

“Really? Oh.” Christopher sighed and sat back. “My apologies. My mind was elsewhere.”

“I could tell.” Allen approached the desk with long, purposeful strides. “What is it? It looks like something you would pick up in the street from a peddler.”

“Not quite.” Christopher knew he could trust his steward with this secret. He held it out. “Take a look at it.”

Allen took the pamphlet and opened it. He only read a few lines before his eyes widened.

“They’re advertising an underground boxing club? Here in London?”

“You didn’t think there were things happening once you turn off the regular streets of the city?” Christopher chuckled. “Your father did own a rat-catching business for dog fights, didn’t he?”

“I do know, but I didn’t think they would be so brazen to advertise like this. It’s something you hear by word of mouth.” Allen frowned. “Where did you get this, Your Grace?”

“I was leaving the club last night and someone was outside trying to hand these out. I think I was the only one who took something, though.”

“You’re the only one who’s confident enough to do it in public.” The steward shook his head. “The dowager duchess doesn’t know about this, does she?”

Christopher snorted.

“Of course she doesn’t. I’m not about to tell her that I’m thinking of trying to get an invitation to this place. She would probably alert the authorities.”

Allen didn’t respond, but he didn’t need to. Both of them knew that the Dowager Duchess of Clarence was not comfortable with violent sports and even said that they should not have wars because it involved people fighting. Christopher had been in arguments about it before, and it had given him a headache. It was easier just not to talk about it in her presence. Especially when Christopher was interested in the whole thing and was keen to visit a club himself. Maybe even take part in a fight where nobody knew who he was and he could be treated like everyone else.

Being the Duke of Clarence had its advantages, but it also had its problems. Christopher just wanted to be left alone. He didn’t like being considered an eligible bachelor. He was going to be thirty by the end of the current Season, and his mother was starting to pester him more about going out into the real world and finding a suitable wife. Christopher wasn’t interested.

They had only been back in England a few weeks, anyway. If he wanted to get married, there was plenty of time to get reacquainted.

“Anyway, I’m going to find a way to see if I can get an invitation to this club. It looks interesting.” Christopher stood up. “I’ll be with Mother and Elizabeth. If you need, just follow the noise.”

“Yes, Your Grace.” Allen bowed, his mouth twitching. “I was coming to say your mother was requesting your presence, anyway.”

“Good. How is she doing today?”

“She’s in a cheerful mood. I think being back in England has helped her settle down. She’s not as…emotional as she once was.”

Christopher knew what he meant. His father had passed away suddenly, dropping down dead in front of his wife and children after dinner with no warning or explanation. Lady Clarence had been traumatized by her husband’s death, and Elizabeth had withdrawn into herself. So Christopher, with the help of his mother’s family, had taken them to her family’s villa in Italy. Her parents had owned it before they passed away, and it was looked after by his uncle. The villa had been nestled at the foot of the Alps near the French border, and the scenery was gorgeous all year round, plus the air had smelled fresh and crisp. It was just what they had needed after what happened.

His mother had loved it so much that she had insisted that they stay until Elizabeth was old enough to have her first Season in England. That had been four years ago, and they had remained in Italy since. Christopher had returned to England every couple of months to make sure that things were running smoothly with their estates, which his friend, Marcus, and Allen had done in his absence, but mostly he stayed in Italy. He did miss that villa, but he was glad to be back in England.

At least it wasn’t as cold in the winter as it was on the continent.

“Sounds like she’s throwing herself into sorting out my sister’s first Season. It was all she talked about on the way back.” Christopher nodded at Allen as he walked past his steward. “If you hear anything about this underground club, Allen, let me know.”

“Are you insistent on going, Your Grace?”

“Absolutely.”

Allen didn’t reply. He seemed to know that he was arguing over something pointless. Nothing was going to change Christopher’s mind. He was going to do this. Anything for excitement.

Heading through the house, his footsteps echoing around him, Christopher entered the drawing room and found his mother and sister sitting on the settee looking at dresses that a portly but pretty woman with bright red hair smoothed and pinned back from her face had laid out on the chairs across from them. Lady Clarence looked around as Christopher entered.

“Clarence, dear! I was beginning to think you were going to hide away in your study all day.”

“I just needed to get a few things sorted, that’s all.” Christopher went over to his sister and kissed her head. “Seen anything you like, Lizzie?”

“They all look gorgeous,” Elizabeth gushed. “I don’t know which one to go with.”

“Well, why not buy all of them?” Lady Clarence suggested.

“Within reason, Mother,” Christopher warned. “If we get all of them now, the fashions will have changed and she’ll barely have worn half of them.”

His mother sniffed.

“Your sister deserves the best.”

“And have you been laughed at for wearing the wrong style at the wrong time? Much as I don’t approve of things like that, and it’s a ridiculous thing to turn your nose up at, Lizzie doesn’t need that.”

“Your Grace does have a point,” the woman said. Christopher guessed that she was the seamstress; his mother had spoken about getting a private consultation in their home. “I would recommend two evening gowns and three day dresses.”

“That still feels like a bit much,” Lizzie commented with a frown.

The seamstress smiled.

“Fashion does change with evening gowns, but the day dresses are a lot more subtle. It’s more about the colors, which will change all the time. What colors worked for morning dresses change to the afternoon, and vice versa. It’s whatever is in fashion with the royal family and everyone copies.” She gestured at the day dresses beside her. “You could get a few of these and keep them to one side. They last longer that way, and the alterations, should they change, are minor. But with the evening gowns, you really have to keep an eye on everything.”

“Oh, my.” Lady Clarence fanned herself and slumped back on the settee. “That feels like a lot to take in. I don’t think it was ever this complicated when I was Lizzie’s age.”

Smiling, Christopher picked up his book from a nearby chair and sat down. He had left the book there when he made an excuse to do something else. He watched his mother and sister, noticing how similar they looked as Elizabeth grew up. They were both petite, slim frames and delicate features. At her tender age of seventeen with eighteen only a few weeks away, Elizabeth was as tall as her mother, her chestnut-brown hair had the same curls in the same places, and her eyes were a similar shade of green. If a stranger saw them in the street, they would have no doubt that they were related, although there would be some surprise that they were mother and daughter. Lady Clarence had been twenty when Christopher was born, and then Elizabeth had come along out of nowhere twelve years later.

Elizabeth had said that she would be happy if she still looked splendid at her mother’s age when she reached fifty as well. Christopher could see that happening.

He opened his book and started to read, tuning out the conversation with the ladies. Why his mother wanted him to sit here, Christopher had no idea. He would rather just get on with other things around the estate, even though it was under control. But his mother insisted that he stayed and gave his input.

He had a feeling that the dowager duchess was going to try and fit him for something eventually. She would be getting a tailor in to get him measured up for new clothes, Christopher was certain of it. To be fair, it had been a while since that had happened, seeing as Christopher hadn’t actually gone to any social gatherings in the four years since he had left England. When he came back to manage his affairs, he kept it incredibly quiet so nobody would know about it except for his closest friends who wouldn’t divulge it to anyone else. He didn’t want to be rude and turn the invitations down. While Christopher knew that he was considered a worthy guest, the fact he was targeted as an eligible bachelor was frustrating. He didn’t want to deal with any of that when he wasn’t interested in marrying someone who saw him as furthering their position.

Did love not exist anymore? It was almost like that had been wiped from existence. Lady Clarence said that it was just the way of things, and they couldn’t change it. Christopher had pointed out before that his parents loved each other, so why couldn’t he have that? His mother didn’t have a response.

Now he had no choice. He was going to have to go to these engagements, to balls and dinners where everyone was boring and carried on mundane conversations. They had had a few in Italy, but they had been family friends, and things had been very relaxed. Christopher knew he could cope with those when there was on pressure on him. Now, for some reason, there was plenty of it.

Didn’t he have enough to worry about?