His Grace, The Duke: Second Sons Book Two

Friday morning was a blur of activity as the whole house prepared for the engagement party. Every entrance had the doors thrown open wide, with servants weaving in and out carrying fresh deliveries of flowers, tray after tray of delicate tarts and pastries, and stacks of chairs. Inside the house, footmen scurried everywhere. They climbed ladders to set each candle stand with eight-hour waxes, hung garlands, and fluffed and dusted every inch of the furniture.

Lunch was a chaotic affair with a buffet set in the hall, as the servants were still too busy converting the dining room into a party space. For some reason, Rosalie felt too nervous to eat, but she tried to scarf down a few slices of cold ham and an egg and cheese tart.

By seven o’clock, Rosalie was sitting at her dressing table. Fanny stood behind her, wiggling a few more pins into her pile of curls. She glanced over to the bed where her gown was laid out. It was a beautiful thing of goldenrod yellow. From the waist down, there was a sheer overlay in a pattern of leaves. The little cap sleeves had a ruff of lace to match. The bodice scooped lower in the back than it did the front, exposing her shoulders in a way that felt daring.

“Alice says the performers arrived,” Fanny said with a wide grin. “They’re all dressing in the servant’s quarters now. A magician and a woman who twirls with ribbons. She says there’s even a man who breathes fire!”

Rosalie stifled a smile. In all the commotion of the last week, she’d nearly forgotten that she ordered the hiring of circus performers. She felt a momentary twinge of guilt thinking of James rubbing shoulders with a magician. But the guilt was quickly erased as she pictured him having a coin pulled from his ear.

A half hour later, she was floating down the stairs in her yellow dress, loving the silky feel of the fabric against her skin. The house glittered from so many candles. More mirrors had been strategically placed in each room, replacing some of the framed pictures to brighten the glow. Guests were already spilling through the front doors. An excited hum echoed off the walls, leaving Rosalie’s skin prickling. The guests cooed in surprise as a woman dressed in jewels and feathers did a twisting flip high on a stand.

Rosalie barely reached the bottom step before Piety was pulling her into her arms. “Miss Harrow, you’ve outdone yourself,” she cried. “The performers were truly inspired. His Grace is beside himself. Look!”

Rosalie followed the line of her finger to spy the duke clapping as one of the performers juggled a seemingly impossible number of colored balls. She smiled. “And the fire eater?”

“Oh, he’s in the garden,” Piety replied, looping her arm in with Rosalie’s. “It’s ever so strange. I whine if my tea is too hot, and he swallows down a flaming sword with the ease of eating a grape.”

Piety led her through into the back garden, where a large set of guests were clustered in groups watching the performers who required more room to work. There was a trio of men doing amazing tricks of acrobatics, climbing each other like some kind of strange tower. A lady with hoops and ribbons was twirling about. A burst of hot fire had the back garden cheering as the fire-eater sprayed flames high up into the air. Rosalie clapped with the rest of the group.

“You clever little cabbage. This is brilliant,” said a deep voice in her ear.

She turned to find the duke standing just behind her. She felt her smile fall as she crossed her arms. Piety had stepped away, now eagerly chatting with a group of ladies bedecked in jewels and feathers. Rosalie glanced back at the duke. “Good evening…brother.”

He pulled his gaze from the fire-eater. “What?”

“Oh, is it still a secret? Am I not a desperate little deviant here to squeeze you for an inheritance?”

The duke just laughed, patting her shoulder. “So that’s why James is in such a foul mood tonight, eh? I thought it was because the magician stole his pocket watch earlier.”

Nothing about this was funny. Losing herself completely, she reached up and tugged sharply on his ear.

“Ouch!” He slapped his hand over his ear. “What the bloody hell was that for?”

“Why are you meddling in our affairs?”

His eyes narrowed. “So, there is an affair. Oh, I’m so pleased to hear it. I couldn’t bear to watch him be outpaced by Burke.”

Heavens, how much did this man know? Did she dare bother to contradict him, or might that just make it worse? “Tell me why you’re meddling,” she demanded.

“Because James is hopeless,” he said with a shrug. “Someone had to give him a push off this cliff.”

“What cliff? What do you hope to achieve by upsetting him?”

The duke gave her shoulder another pat. “Cabbage, I already told you. I can sniff out sexual tension better than my best pointer, Ducky. You have those three wrapped around your cabbage-pulling fingers. Play your cards right, and you can have them wrapped around you entirely.” He dared to give her a wink.

“Your Grace—”

“Now, I don’t want to alarm you,” he murmured. “But you should know that our delightful little friend Mrs. Young has been watching us from the arbor since the moment I sidled up to your back.”

Rosalie stiffened, not daring to look behind her. “She’s there now?”

“Yes.”

“Is she watching us?”

“Oh yes…though she pretends she is not.” He leaned in closer. “What did I tell you last time about embarrassing me?”

Rosalie swallowed, doing her best to square her shoulders. “I must keep the high ground.”

“That’s my girl,” he said with a grin. “Now, go enjoy the party. Just be wary of any shadows dressed in a gaudy lavender gown.”