A Spinster’s Guide to Danger and Dukes: Chapter 4
Once they’d got beyond earshot of the party from Langham Abbey, the duke gave Poppy a sidelong look. “I don’t think I’ve ever seen my sister Charlotte speechless before. I must commend you on managing it. If this is what it will be like to have you as a fiancée—even a faux one—this arrangement of ours promises to bring me a great deal of amusement.”
While His Grace, or Langham, she corrected herself in her head—made arrangements to have his valet take their bags to the house, Poppy stood to one side, fuming. She hadn’t lost her temper in such a grand fashion in years. It was never a good idea to lose control of one’s emotions. She’d learned that lesson not long after her mother had married Lord Short.
Langham, if his words were to be believed, hadn’t minded her outburst, but she did. She was supposed to make a credible betrothed for Langham. Surely a lady who wanted to make a good impression would refrain from insulting her fiancé’s sister? And had she really taken Langham’s arm and steered him away from his welcome party? As if she were the one who made the decisions, and not the duke, who could probably have her transported to Australia if the notion took him?
She resolved to focus on convincing his family that theirs was a real engagement. And when a little voice in her head suggested that it might not be that difficult to pretend to be besotted with a man as handsome and kind as Langham, she told that voice to stubble it.
“We’ll take my curricle to the grange,” the duke said, interrupting her thoughts as he returned to her side and took her hand, leading her down the platform to the far end, where a highly polished sporting vehicle stood with a pair of matched bays harnessed to it. A young man handed the reins to Langham and neatly caught the coin the duke tossed to him. “Stevens will make our excuses for tea should we be unable to return to the house in time.”
Once they were under way, Poppy pulled the jacket of her traveling ensemble closer as the cooler air of the country coupled with the moving carriage chilled her. Their route took them past sheep-dotted enclosures and farms nestled in the valleys of the glowing chalk hills.
“These roads were built under my great-grandfather’s direction from chalk mined right here,” Langham said with a nod in the direction of the Chilterns. “The harvest was poor for those several years, and the mining operation gave the people in the area much-needed work. Or so the story goes. I imagine, knowing my forebears, there was some ulterior motive there as well—I mean, beyond the profits that could be made from the mining operation.”
“Are you always so cynical about your family?” Poppy asked dryly. She knew from experience that not all families—even aristocratic ones—were happy, but she’d somehow thought that someone like Langham would not dwell on the misdeeds of previous generations. After all, he was the duke now and could do as he pleased.
“About my great-grandfather I am,” Langham said with a harsh laugh. “He was one of the most notorious rakes of his day. And I don’t mean the sort of scapegrace scoundrel you ladies like to read about in sensation novels. The fourth duke was a seducer, an opium eater—honestly, it would save us time if I listed off the vices with which he was not acquainted. I wouldn’t be surprised to learn the man was a murderer as well.”
She wasn’t sure what she’d expected him to say, but it hadn’t been that.
“So,” Langham continued, “you’d better know what sort of bloodline you’re getting yourself mixed up in. Even if it is only for the space of a house party. Great-grandfather was even the leader of a secret society that devoted itself to every profane pleasure imaginable.”
Poppy gave an astonished shake of her head. I suppose that’s one sin I cannot lay upon my stepfather’s door. Although his penchant for defrauding innocent people of their money ran a close second.
“You might well shake your head in disgust,” Langham said with a glance her way. “He was a truly contemptible man. I’m only grateful he was long dead by the time I came along.”
She nodded in agreement. “I think my stepfather and the fourth duke might have got along quite well with one another. Though Lord Short’s misdeeds run more toward the financial than fleshly.”
At that last word she felt herself coloring a little. What was it about Langham that made her feel like a green girl? There was no need for her to be maidenly when she was only speaking the truth. A lesson she’d only learned once she’d arrived in London and had the fortune to be hired by Kate to work at The London Gazette.
Unaware of her inner turmoil, Langham pressed her. “What do you mean? I thought you’d left your stepfather’s home because he wished to force you into an unwanted marriage.”
“I did,” she said with a sigh as Langham directed the horses to the side of the road. “But that was not the extent of his misdeeds. We moved so often when I was a child, never staying more than a year or two in any village. I didn’t realize until I was older that the reason we had to leave our home so often was that Lord Short was a confidence man, and he’d been grifting our neighbors.”
She laughed bitterly. “I’ve often wondered how different my life would have been if my father, the vicar, had lived. He certainly would not have approved of my stepfather, that’s certain. Lord Short was always very persuasive, and he used that skill to convince people in the community to entrust their money to him for the purpose of some scheme or another, which he swore to anyone who would listen was sure to give them an exponential return on their investment. Eventually, someone would catch on that there was no railroad in Argentina or diamond mine in America, and they’d alert the authorities. I don’t know how, but Lord Short always managed to get us out of town before the constable or the bailiffs, or both, descended.”
Poppy saw that the duke’s jaw was clenched and his blue eyes had grown stormy. “It can’t have been easy to keep quiet about it. Did he threaten you?”
“I had learned by then what happened when I spoke out of turn,” she said softly. “And Mama made sure to keep both Violet and me away from him as much as possible. She ensured that we received as much of an education as she could provide. And when Lord Short was doing well, he could be generous. There were always pretty gowns and even a governess for a few years when we were in Edinburgh.”
If Langham had noticed she hadn’t precisely answered his question, he didn’t mention it. “And was Alistair Lovell involved in these schemes? Your stepfather’s insistence on marrying him into the family suggests their relationship was more than one would expect from employer and employee.”
At the mention of Violet and her marriage to Lovell, Poppy felt her chest constrict. This is all my fault. If I hadn’t left—
Her emotions must have shown on her face, because Langham took her hand in his, the gesture sending a wave of warmth through her. “You did what you had to do to keep yourself safe. And you said yourself that you had no notion that Short would insist his own daughter marry Lovell.”
And that was true. If Poppy had had any idea that Violet would be forced to take her place, she would never have left her sister behind. Still, it made her heart ache to know that while she was in London, finally able to surround herself with the sort of intellectual pursuits she’d always longed for and making herself useful at The Gazette, Violet had been enduring a marriage to Mr. Lovell.
“What do you know of Lovell?” Langham asked, taking a different tack. She noted that his expression was patient now, as if he’d realized she was not quite so imperturbable as she attempted to seem.
Taking a deep breath, Poppy continued. “I don’t really know where he came from or who his people were. He’d been with Lord Short for about five years at the time the betrothal was proposed to me. Before that I’d only had a handful of interactions with him. I certainly didn’t harbor any girlish fantasies about him. He was unpleasant, even disrespectful. I can’t imagine why Lord Short would want to tie him to the family. Especially since Mama’s ideas on the matter were so very different. She imagined Violet and me married to a younger son at the very least.”
“But your stepfather is a baronet,” the duke argued. “Surely you and your sister could aim higher than that.”
At this, Poppy made a moue of distaste. “If he were indeed a baronet, that might be true. However, one of the first things I did when I began working for Lady Katherine was to search out a copy of Debrett’s in the newspaper’s library. And as I suspected, my stepfather’s title is as nonexistent as the diamond mine in America that he was touting to his investors.”
Langham shook his head in disgust. “I believe you are correct, Miss Delamere,” he said, giving her hand one last squeeze before he turned his attention back to the horses and got them under way again. “My great-grandfather and your stepfather would have got along famously. At the very least they could have lied to one another instead of the rest of the world and saved us all a great deal of trouble.”
* * *
The drive leading to Rothwell Grange was tree lined, and when the tidy manor house built from local chalkstone came into view, it was just as Langham had remembered it.
Beside him, he could feel Poppy’s anxiety like a palpable thing, despite her attempts to conceal it behind a rigid posture and neatly folded hands. He could hardly blame her.
“Do not forget to introduce me as your betrothed,” he reminded her as the curricle neared the house. “This charade is intended to benefit us both. Your status as my fiancée will hold far more sway with the likes of your stepfather than your position as Violet’s sister.”
“I had no intention of neglecting that detail,” Poppy said wryly. “It would hardly do you any good with your grandmother’s horde of marriageable ladies if we told Mama and Lord Short the truth of things. Lord Short, at least, would have no qualms about informing the entire village the betrothal was a sham if given the chance.”
“I didn’t expect you to tell them the engagement is a charade,” Langham assured her, “but having learned just what sort of man your stepfather is, I want it to be deuced clear to the fellow from the very start that you are no longer under his control. If he has any thoughts of bullying you, he’ll have to go through me first.”
He saw the flicker of surprise in Poppy’s eyes at the fierceness in his tone.
“I mean it,” he said firmly. Then, thinking to spare her pride once again, he added, “It will do my reputation no good if it gets out that I don’t bother protecting my own fiancée.”
“Very well,” she said, nodding as if this last, at least, made sense to her.
Once the carriage came to a stop before the portico of the grange, a groom stepped forward to take the reins.
Before Langham could reach the other side of the curricle to lift Poppy down, she’d already jumped. “Headstrong,” he said in an undertone as he pointedly tucked her arm into his as they ascended the short flight of steps to the door.
“Nervous,” she retorted in an equally low voice, clinging to his arm like a passenger fallen overboard from a ship in the channel. Langham wished he could do more to calm her, but some feelings could not be taken on by others, no matter how one might wish to do so.
Before he could lift the knocker on the imposing door before them, it swung open to reveal a balding butler, whose expression revealed that he knew the duke, at least, by sight.
Not bothering to stand on ceremony, Langham told the man in his most ducal tone, “Langham and Miss Delamere to see Mrs. Lovell. And be quick about it.”
At his words the butler frowned. “I do apologize, Your Grace, but I’ve been told Mrs. Lovell isn’t seeing visitors.”
Beside him, Langham heard Poppy make a sound of frustration. “Then show us to your master and mistress, man. My betrothed wishes to see her sister, and I’m here to ensure that happens one way or another.” Bringing his quizzing glass to his eye, he examined the servant through it as if he were looking at a particularly puzzling form of insect. When the man stood mute, he said coolly, “Is there something about my request that was unclear to you, Mr.—?”
As if emerging from a trance, the butler shook himself and supplied, “Rogers, Your Grace.”
“Well, Rogers,” Langham said pointedly, “I wish you to show us to your best drawing room. Then you will go inform Lord and Lady Short that we are here to call upon them.”
“Y-y-yes, Your Grace,” Rogers said, his eyes wide. “At once, Your Grace. This way, Your Grace. Miss Delamere.”
“I don’t believe I’ve ever seen you in full ducal mode before,” Poppy said with wonder as she took his arm again and they followed the butler down the handsomely furnished hallway. “It’s quite impressive.”
“I’ve had a few decades to perfect it,” he said wryly. “I’m only pleased that I’m able to use my noble peevishness on your behalf. Usually it serves only to protect me from toadying strangers. And the occasional relation who wishes to borrow money.”
As he’d hoped they would do, his words startled a soft laugh from Poppy, and he felt her relax a little beside him. Even so, she was still noticeably anxious. It was hard to believe she was the same woman who’d argued with him earlier on the train.
The drawing room Rogers ushered them into faced the back gardens of the house, where there was a pleasantly arranged parterre garden.
“I’ll just go inform Lord and Lady Short that you’ve arrived, Your Grace,” Rogers said, then he all but sprinted from the room.
“It is a handsome enough property and appears, at least here and in the entry hall, to be well furnished,” Poppy said, running her hand along the back of the green velvet sofa near the fire. “But then, my stepfather always did like to put on a good showing when we first arrived in a new town. No one wants to hand over an investment to someone living in a hovel, after all.”
Her tone was rueful, but Langham could hear the note of pain behind it. She clearly felt some degree of shame over what her stepfather had done—perhaps was still doing, he realized with a start. But Poppy wasn’t to blame for Lord Short’s crimes.
He was about to tell her so when he heard a deceptively pleasant male voice from the doorway behind them.
“Why am I not surprised, daughter, that you are filling His Grace’s ears with lies even before we managed to greet him?”