The Naked Duke. Sally MacKenzie
“James could marry an actress—not that he would, of course,” Lady Gladys said, “and society would accept it.”
“Exactly. No one wants to risk losing the Duke of Alvord’s favor.” Lady Amanda looked Sarah over. Sarah lifted her chin, and the older woman smiled. “She does look a bit like a duchess at the moment. I think she’ll do, Gladys.”
“I rather think so, too.” The women smiled at Sarah; Sarah smiled back cautiously. She had the uncomfortable feeling that she was about to lose control of her life.
“I see you’ve already put off mourning, my dear,” Lady Gladys said.
“Yes. I would have worn black, but there was no money for a new wardrobe, nor any time to make it. And my father would not have expected it. Why make the world a drearier place, he used to say, by decking yourself out in black?”
Lady Gladys nodded. “Then I hope you won’t object to wearing colors and dancing when we take Lizzie up to London?”
“No.” Sarah hesitated. “I don’t object. I would like to be helpful, but…”
“We don’t have to put it about when Miss Hamilton’s father died,” Lady Amanda said. “If anyone is bold enough to ask—as Richard might be—we’ll just say they do things differently in the colonies.”
“Yes,” Lady Gladys agreed. “There may be some raised eyebrows, but it’s not as if Sarah is just out of the schoolroom or on the catch for a husband. She’ll soon be wearing the Alvord emerald.”
Sarah shifted in her seat. “Lady Gladys, I really don’t think you should assume your nephew and I are going to get married.”
“Of course you’ll marry him, girl.” Lady Amanda looked at Sarah as if she had two heads. “The man’s a duke, wealthy, young, and handsome. What more could you possibly want?”
“I don’t know.” Sarah shrugged helplessly. “This is all so confusing.”
“What’s confusing?” Lady Amanda looked at James’s aunt. “It seems crystal clear to me, doesn’t it to you, Gladys?”
“Yes.” Lady Gladys reached over and patted Sarah’s hand. “Tell us what the problem is, Miss Hamilton.”
The problem, Sarah thought, was that she was a penniless American girl and James a wealthy English duke, but what she blurted out was “I don’t dance.”
Gladys and Amanda startled as if Sarah had said she didn’t eat or breathe.
“You aren’t a Methodist, are you?” Lady Gladys asked.
“No. I don’t object to dancing, I just never learned how. I’ve never been to a ball, and I’ve never had a suitor.” Surely now these ladies would see how far removed plain Miss Hamilton was from the glittering world of the Duke of Alvord. “My only friends were the two spinster ladies who lived next door.”
“My dear,” Lady Gladys said, “how dreadful! It sounds to me as if you’ve been in mourning your entire life.”
“Indeed.” Lady Amanda could not have looked more shocked. “No balls, no young men! How very dreary.”
Lady Gladys smiled. “Even if you weren’t going to marry James—and maybe you aren’t,” she said as Sarah started to protest, “you deserve some fun in your life, dear. I suggest you take this as an opportunity to live a little. Enjoy yourself. Dress up. Dance. Flirt. I’m confident James can present himself in a credible enough fashion to win your regard.”
Sarah looked at the two older women who were watching her so expectantly. For some reason, she did not want to disappoint them—and, if she were completely honest, she didn’t want to disappoint herself. The thought of Miss Sarah Hamilton, a lowly teacher at the Abington Academy for Young Ladies and the daughter of a penniless republican, attending such glittering events was dazzling.
“All right.”
“Splendid.” Both ladies beamed at her. Then Lady Gladys glanced out the window.
“Ah, we’re home!”
Sarah leaned forward so she could see where James lived. Her jaw dropped. She was looking at a medieval castle.
“That’s your home?”
“Yes. The first Duke of Alvord fought with William the Conqueror,” Lady Gladys said. “He built the original castle. Subsequent dukes have added on and remodeled the place, filled in part of the moat, extended the grounds and gardens, and built on a terrace in the back. It’s very comfortable now, not drafty or damp at all.”
The castle was situated on a lake, surrounded by rolling, forested hillsides and meadows. Sarah stared at the gray stone edifice, the crenellated turrets, and the drawbridge. This was where James lived? She had taken Richard’s words literally when he had said James was opening his “little” home to her.
“Quite an impressive sight, is it not?” Lady Amanda sounded smug. “Alvord Castle has over twenty bedrooms. The grounds cover five-hundred acres.”
“Oh, Amanda, stop it.” Lady Gladys laughed. “You sound like a penny guidebook.”
“I’m sure Sarah has never seen such a stately residence before, Gladys.”
“And how kind of you to point it out. Pray, excuse Amanda, Sarah. It must be a touch of the gout that has her out of spirits.”
“Gout! You know I do not suffer from gout, Gladys.”
The carriage rattled over the drawbridge, under the portcullis, and up a circular drive. It stopped in front of a pair of huge wooden doors. A footman came up to let down the carriage steps. James was right behind him.
“We had a nice visit with your Sarah, James,” Lady Gladys said as she allowed James to hand her down the steps.
“Yes,” Lady Amanda said, following behind Gladys. “Now if you will just do your part, we can welcome a new bride to Alvord. It’s about time you looked to the succession, you know.”
“Yes, Lady Amanda,” James said meekly. He grinned at Sarah as the other women went inside. “I see you have charmed the ladies. I think they like you.”
Sarah wrinkled her nose at him. “I think they want to get you married and I’m the likeliest candidate they’ve seen recently.”
James laughed. “Perhaps.” He kept her hand as she stepped onto the gravel drive. “Welcome to Alvord, Sarah. I do hope you will feel at home here.”
“It’s a little overwhelming.” That was an understatement. She surveyed the large building before her. Lady Amanda was right. She certainly had never seen anything like this in Philadelphia.
“It is a bit of a barn, but I won’t let you get lost in it.”
“James!” A girl with James’s sun-streaked hair appeared just inside the huge wooden doors. She launched herself at him and wrapped her arms around his waist, hugging him tightly. He hugged her back.
“Lizzie, I was only gone overnight.” He shook his head half in amusement, half in exasperation.
“But you are never gone, James. Not without telling us. You are so reliable that we were sure something must have happened. A highwayman or…or something.”
“Lizzie, there are no highwaymen in Kent.” He looked at Sarah. “As you can see, I am sadly domesticated. I cannot have a single night of carousing without my womenfolk setting up a hue and cry.” He turned the girl to face Sarah. “As I’m sure you’ve guessed already, this is my scapegrace sister, Lizzie. Lizzie, let me make known to you Miss Sarah Hamilton of Philadelphia.”
“How do you do, Lizzie?” Sarah smiled. Lizzie reminded her of many of her older students at the Abington Academy for Young Ladies. At seventeen, she was on the brink of adulthood. Not yet a woman, but no longer a