Stolen Encounters With The Duchess. Julia Justiss
not your place to determine that.’
‘I just want to stand her friend. She has few enough of them.’
‘Well, here comes one who should be.’
Davie looked over as a tall, well-dressed gentleman entered the parlour. ‘Englemere,’ Giles said, walking over to shake the Marquess’s hand. ‘Good to see you. Perhaps tonight we can make some progress on hammering out that coalition.’
‘I hope so,’ the Marquess replied. ‘If your lovely wife has anything to do with it, there will certainly be a lively discussion. Good evening, Mr Smith. You’ll add your voice of reason to that debate, I’m sure.’
‘Always,’ Davie answered, reaching out to shake the hand the Marquess offered. He owed a great deal to Englemere, the best friend of his sponsor, Sir Edward Greaves, and one of his backers for his Parliamentary seat, and respected him even more. Did the Marquess know his sister-in-law was going to be present this evening? he wondered.
Almost before he’d completed the thought, the lady in question appeared at the doorway as the butler intoned, ‘The Duchess of Ashedon.’
For a moment, everything in Davie’s world halted while he took in the loveliness that was Faith. Her gown, a lavender confection of lace and silk, hugged her tiny waist and moulded itself over her rounded bosom in a way his hands itched to trace. Her golden hair, pinned up in an elaborate arrangement of curls, made him yearn to rake his fingers through it, freeing the heavy mass to cascade around her shoulders, as it had when she was a girl. She wore only simple diamond drops in her ears, the soft expanse of bared skin and shoulders rising above the bodice of her gown her only other adornment.
She married the look of the angel she’d always been with the allure of a siren. Davie wasn’t sure which was more powerful—the ache of his love for her, or the burn of desire.
While he simply watched her, spellbound, Englemere answered his question as he paced forward to take her hand. ‘Faith! What a delightful surprise! I didn’t know you would be here tonight. How are you? It’s been far too long.’
He took her hands, and Faith leaned up to give him a kiss on the cheek. ‘Lady Lyndlington was kind enough to invite me. I didn’t know you’d be here either, Nicky. How lovely to see you! How is Sarah?’
‘Still carefully nursing Elizabeth, our youngest, who was very ill with a congestion of the lungs last winter. Gave me quite a scare, I have to admit. With Lizzie so slow to regain her strength, I wanted her out of the noise and smoke of the city, so I’ve taken a house near Highgate Village, with a large garden for her to walk in and fresh country air to breathe. If you have time, I know Sarah would love to have you call.’
‘Fresh country air? How Sarah must love that, and...and I would, too. I will try to visit her, Nicky.’ She raised her chin, almost defiantly, Davie thought. ‘We’ve grown apart, and I’d like to rectify that.’
‘As would we,’ Englemere said, giving her hands a squeeze before releasing them. ‘But I mustn’t monopolise you. You know Lyndlington? And Mr Smith, of course.’
‘My lord,’ she said, making a curtsy first to Giles, then to him.
‘Duchess,’ he said, taking the hand she offered. Savouring the contact, he retained her fingers for as long as he could without exciting comment before forcing himself to release them. To his delight, she gave his hand a brief squeeze as he let hers go.
‘Who else can I expect to see tonight, my lord?’ she asked Giles.
‘Elder statesman and your host’s political sponsor, Lord Coopley, whom I’m sure you know. Lord Howlett, another member of Witlow’s Tory coalition in the Lords. Two of my Reform MP colleagues, Richard Rowleton and John Percy.’
‘I’m acquainted with all of them,’ she said, her apprehensive smile steadying. ‘Particularly Lord Coopley. He used to take Ashedon to task about his behaviour, which annoyed my husband exceedingly.’
Bravo for the baron, Davie thought. Counting on his age, lineage and position to protect him from retribution for criticising a gentleman of higher rank? Or too principled and courageous to care?
Laughing, Englemere said, ‘I’m sure it did, though I wager Ashedon didn’t choose to respond. Coopley has never shrunk from calling a spade a spade, and he’s too intelligent—and belligerent—for most men to willingly argue with him.’
‘As I’ve experienced on several occasions, when promoting ideas he does not favour,’ Giles inserted wryly. ‘But you mustn’t worry, Duchess. Lady Lyndlington has you seated beside her father, and near Mr Smith, so you’ll have a dinner partner you know well to chat with.’
‘And to assist me, I hope!’ Faith replied, darting a look at Davie, to which he returned an encouraging nod.
‘I doubt you’ll need any assistance, but Mr Smith will certainly provide it, if necessary,’ Giles said. Then his eyes lighting, he said, ‘Here’s my wife and her father! Excuse me, please.’
Davie watched Faith, who was watching the alacrity with which Giles hurried to meet his wife, giving her a kiss on the cheek and murmuring a few words that made her blush. Sadness washed over her face, and he saw the shimmer of tears in her eyes.
‘They look very close,’ she said. ‘How wonderful for them.’
‘They’re all April and May, like two young lovers. Ben, Christopher and I heckle Giles all the time about it.’
Just then, the butler announced the arrival of the other guests Giles had mentioned. Spotting her, Lord Coopley walked over to Faith.
‘How kind of you, Maggie, to invite another beauty for an old man to talk with!’ he exclaimed, making Faith a courtly bow.
‘You are very kind, my lord,’ Faith replied. ‘But I intend to do more listening than talking.’
‘Nonsense, say whatever you like—I know it will be clever!’ As Giles and Davie exchanged startled looks—both well aware how merciless the baron often was to inexperienced souls who dared venture opinions about the political topics that obsessed him—the old gentleman added, ‘Always enjoyed chatting with you, my girl. Talked about books and horses and hunting. Right fancied you for my eldest, before Ashedon swept you away. Would have made you happier.’
As a blush of embarrassment tinted Faith’s cheeks at that too-frank assessment, Lady Lyndlington inserted smoothly, ‘Since we all know each other so well, we can dispense with formal introductions. Shall we proceed to table? Lord Coopley, will you escort me in, before I succumb to jealousy over your attentions to the Duchess?’
Chuckling, the older man clasped the arm she extended. ‘Of course, Maggie! You know you’ll always be first in my heart. The daughter I never had, much as both your papa and I might have wished you’d been a son who could have carried on our work in the Lords.’
‘Oh, but I provided you a magnificent husband to take that place,’ she teased.
Since as the leader of Reform, Giles was the man to whom the baron was most often opposed, her remark earned a laugh from the entire assembly.
‘Minx,’ Coopley reproved, wagging a finger at her. ‘If I thought he could be seduced into it, I’d send him off in a horse cart with a doxy.’
‘No chance of that,’ Lady Lyndlington flashed back. ‘If I thought he could be seduced into it, I’d murder him first.’
Davie watched Faith anxiously, but rather than causing her additional distress, the light-hearted remarks touching on her late husband’s ignominious demise drew the group’s attention away from her, giving her a chance to recover her composure. Before he could add a quick word of encouragement, Lord Witlow walked over to claim her arm.
‘I’m so pleased you joined us this evening, Duchess,’ he said with a warm smile. ‘My daughter tells me you are quite interested in the work we’re now doing in Parliament, so I trust we