To Capture a Duke's Heart (5 page)

“Thank you, Your Grace,” Penny replied graciously, secretly delighting in the flash of displeasure that sparked within her stepmother’s eyes. “Only time will tell I suppose, but you are very kind to say so.”

“I assure you, Lady Penelope, that it is not kindness, but the unqualified truth,” he replied gallantly.

“Yes, you’re quite right, of course, Your Grace,” Maryanne quickly agreed with an air of exaggerated enthusiasm.  “Penelope is certainly not without her redeeming qualities.  In fact, the earl and I have little doubt that her first Season is going to be a smashing success.”

Unimpressed by her stepmother’s immediate about face and blatant insincerity, Penny was tempted to emit a verbal guffaw, but managed to resist the impulse. 

“You must be looking forward to your debut, Lady Penelope,” the duke remarked, “with the start of the Season just around the corner.”

“Yes, I suppose I am,” she responded.  Apparently her tone lacked the proper degree of excitement, however, for the duke cocked his head, eyeing her curiously.

“Well
I
for one can hardly wait until the opening of the Season and our return to London,” Maryanne proclaimed, “for I have always found country life to be a dreadful bore.”

The duke regarded her stepmother with a bland expression.  “Yes, I imagine that you would.”

Though Maryanne seemed completely oblivious, Penny didn’t miss the air of derision in the duke’s tone and mentally applauded; for clearly he wasn’t the type of man her exceedingly vain stepmother could win over with little more than a beguiling smile and the playful batting of her eyelashes.

“Penelope, dear,” Maryanne said then, casting a quick glance about the room, “I believe I saw Eleanor just over there a moment ago.”  She waved her hand, motioning to an indiscriminate part of the room.  “You really should go and tell her how much you enjoyed the performance.”

Penny understood that she was being dismissed; undoubtedly so that Maryanne could practice her flirtations upon the duke without an audience.  Nevertheless, she replied politely to her stepmother.  “Yes, of course.  If you’ll excuse me, Your Grace,” she said then, offering the duke a polite nod. 

He smiled, returning the gesture.  “Of course.”

Walking away, Penny consoled herself with the knowledge that Maryanne’s flirtations were likely to prove futile, as the Duke of Ainsworth seemed impervious to her stepmother’s charms.

“If you will excuse me, Lady Beckford,” Gabriel said as Penelope moved away, “I’m afraid that I must take my leave as well, for I’ve a need to speak with my brother.”  Though in truth he was simply eager to distance himself from the bothersome woman, for implausible as it might seem, she had managed to fall even further in his estimation over the course of the past several minutes. 

Lamentably, his leave-taking was arrested, however, as the countess laid a pale, manicured hand upon the sleeve of his black dinner jacket.  “Surely you needn’t rush off, Your Grace,” she murmured with a playful pout, “for I have been hoping for the opportunity for us to speak…
privately
.”

“Lady Beckford,” he frowned, “I hardly think that’s necessary.”

“Hmm, perhaps not.”  She took a step closer, her lips curving into a catlike smile. “For if I were to join you in your chamber later this evening, I assure you we needn’t
speak
at all.”

Gabriel frowned, his expression austere.  “I don’t think so,” he replied, looking pointedly at the hand resting upon his arm.

Though she slowly withdrew her hand, her manner was undeterred. “If it’s my husband you’re concerned about, you needn’t worry,” she stated in a throaty whisper.  “He’s a very sound sleeper.”

Hells bells
, he thought irritably, why couldn’t the blasted woman get it through her head that he wasn’t interested?  Perhaps he simply needed to be more direct.  And so he said, “Though I have never made a habit of bedding other men’s wives, Lady Beckford, I can assure you that the
earl
has nothing to do with my decision.” 

The countess blinked, eyeing him in sudden uncertainty. 

Oh for God’s sake, he thought, groaning internally; and though it went against his nature to be deliberately unkind, he realized that he was going to have to make an exception.  “I fear that I shall have to speak candidly, Lady Beckford, so that there remains no further misunderstanding between us, now or in the future,” he began, his expression uncompromising.  “
You
do not interest me, just as your
offer
does not interest me.  Neither interested me before, neither interests me now and I guarantee you that neither will have even the slightest interest to me in the future.” 

The countess regarded him through narrowing eyes as her mouth drew into a thin, taut line. 

“I trust that I have made myself clear, then?”

For a moment Lady Beckford appeared as if she had just sucked upon a lemon.  Then, lifting her chin and squaring her shoulders she replied caustically, “Indeed, Your Grace, you have made yourself abundantly clear.” 

And with that, and to his utmost relief, Lady Beckford abruptly turned and marched stiffly in the opposite direction.

“Dare I ask?” Rafael asked with a knowing smirk as he came up next to Gabriel a few seconds later.

Gabriel eyed his brother humorlessly.  “I’d rather you didn’t.”

Rafael chuckled as his gaze followed Lady Beckford as she weaved her way through the milling crowd.  “Perhaps you should simply take the countess up on her offer and be done with it.”

“Trust me, Rafe, if I’ve ever a need for your advice in such matters,” he replied sardonically, “I shall be sure to ask for it.”

Rafael shrugged good-naturedly as he turned his laughing gaze back to his brother.  “It was merely a suggestion.”

“It hardly signifies in any event; as I am confident that I have finally convinced the countess that she would be best served to seek her illicit pleasures with someone other than myself.”

“Did you?” Rafael remarked, his eyes alight with curiosity.  “And how did that go over with the tenacious Lady Beckford, pray tell?”

Gabriel grimaced.  “About as well as you might imagine.”

Rafael waggled his eyebrows.  “You do know what they say about a woman scorned, don’t you?”

Hell hath no fury
.  “I’m familiar with the expression, yes.”  Even so, he wasn’t particularly concerned; for he doubted that a woman as one-dimensional as Maryanne Houghton would pose any sort of threat to his wellbeing.  Besides, in all likelihood the countess would find herself a far more accommodating gentleman to assuage her bruised ego soon enough.

“Come on then,” Rafael said, slapping his hand affectionately against the back of his brother’s shoulder.  “I’d say that this calls for a drink.  Let’s go and see if Gilchrist has any of that fine Kentucky bourbon he imported from the States left in his study.”

Gabriel grinned.  “Now
that
is a suggestion to which I will gladly agree.”

As Penny made her way to breakfast the following morning she felt a marked sense of anticipation, for she could hardly deny that she was eager to see the Duke of Ainsworth once again and secretly hoped that they might continue their conversation of the night before.  As such, she’d taken extra care with her appearance, donning one of her new gowns, a lovely silk eolienne creation in a pale shade of apple green, adjusting her upswept curls so that a few, thick auburn ringlets hung loose to drape softly across the front of her right shoulder and then applying just the barest hint of rouge to brighten her lips and cheeks.

Glancing about as she entered the downstairs breakfast room she was forced to hide her sudden disappointment, however, for the Duke of Ainsworth wasn’t among those seated at the long, wooden trestle table nor was he amongst those milling around the sideboard, filling their plates from a vast selection of ham, eggs, biscuits, fruit-filled tarts, pastries and the like. His absence wasn’t altogether surprising though, for in stark contrast to the evening meal, breakfast was a casual affair with the guests coming and going as they pleased, serving themselves and sitting wherever they wished.  Thus it was entirely possible that he simply had yet to arrive, had already eaten and taken his leave prior to her arrival, or perhaps had a breakfast tray prepared and sent up to his room.  Hoping that it was the first possibility and that the duke had yet to arrive, she took her time as she walked to the sideboard and then slowly began to fill her plate from the sumptuous buffet.

She’d just added a thick slice of ham and a large spoonful of eggs to her plate when a gentleman’s voice sounded in her ear.

“Good morning, Lady Penelope.”

Looking up from her plate, Penny saw that one of the Ashcroft twins had joined her at the sideboard.

“Good morning, Lord Ashcroft,” she greeted, entirely uncertain if it was Michael or Rafael to whom she was speaking.  “How are you this morning?”

“Well enough I should say,” he replied good-naturedly.  “Though I haven’t a doubt that I shall be feeling even better once I’ve sated my hunger with a fair number of these heavenly-looking pastries,” he added, grinning as he piled several onto his plate.  “And how do you, my lady, fare this fine morning?”

“I’m quite well, thank you,” she managed, despite the somewhat dazzling effect of the handsome gentleman standing at her side.  Gracious, how was a girl to think straight when faced with such masculine perfection, she mused, for although he didn’t have quite the same heart-stopping effect upon her as his older brother, she was hardly unaffected by his presence.  In all fairness, however, what warm-blooded female with a functioning pair of eyes wouldn’t be, she reasoned.

While Penny added an apple tart to her plate, Lord Ashcroft heaped a small mountain of eggs onto his, added two slices of ham and then asked, “Would you care to join me at the table, Lady Penelope?” 

“That would be lovely, thank you.”

After selecting two empty chairs near the far end of the table, Lord Ashcroft poured them each a cup of tea from one of the porcelain teapots set out upon the table.

“So tell me, Lady Penelope, is this your first visit to Scotland?”

“Oh no, I’ve been to Scotland a number of times,” she told him.  “My father and Lord Gilchrist are longtime friends, having attended school together as boys; thus we’ve made many visits here over the years.”

“I see.”

“And you, my lord?”

“I have been to Scotland before, yes, although this is my first visit to this particular region and to the castle, of course.”

“The castle is quite remarkable, is it not?”

“I should say so,” he replied emphatically.  “It’s so vast that I can easily imagine a poor soul could become lost within these great stone walls and go undiscovered for days.”

Penny smiled, nodding in agreement.  “When I was younger I would often play hide and seek with Eugenia and Eleanor during our visits, but we had to be careful to limit ourselves to one small section of the castle at a time, lest we had any hope at all of finding one another.”

“You must be quite familiar with its layout then?”

“Oh yes.  I think Eleanor and I have explored nearly every nook and cranny at one time or another.”

“How fortuitous,” he replied with a sudden, gregarious smile. “If we’ve time later today perhaps I could coax you into giving me a tour?”

Penny regarded him in surprise. 
He wanted her to give him a tour of the castle?
 
Just the two of them?  No, surely he wasn’t suggesting such a thing.  Or was he?
  Confronted with Lord Ashcroft’s compelling, blue-eyed gaze and persuasive, heart-stopping smile, she found herself at a momentary loss for words, entirely unsure how to reply to such a request.  Thankfully, however, she didn’t have to, as they were fortuitously interrupted before she was forced to respond.

“Good morning, Lady Penelope, Rafael.  Would either of you mind if I joined you?”

Penny looked up, her heart giving a crazy little leap as she noted the Duke of Ainsworth standing just a few feet away.  “No, of course not, Your Grace.” 

“Please,” Rafael answered, motioning for his brother to sit.

Penny watched as the duke pulled out a chair, seating himself at the end of the table, directly to her right.  Good heavens, how on earth was she to eat her breakfast, she mused, for seated between two such extraordinarily handsome gentlemen it was a wonder she could even draw a steady breath.  Although, thanks to the duke’s greeting she at least knew which of the twins she’d been conversing with for the past several minutes.

Reaching for a ceramic mug and pouring himself a cup of coffee, Gabriel eyed his brother speculatively.  Upon entering the breakfast room he’d instantly spied Lady Penelope sitting with Rafael, smiling at something he’d just said.  Astonishingly, he’d felt an immediate spark of irritation; and not because he’d already cautioned his oft-times impetuous, rakehell brother regarding the Earl of Beckford’s innocent young daughter, but because he’d felt a rather peculiar flicker of emotion that could only be described as… jealousy. Considering that he’d never before experienced that particular emotion, at least not in regard to a woman, it was decidedly disconcerting.  But then Penelope Houghton was hardly a woman.  She was eighteen, little more than a child, which only made his uncharacteristic reaction all the more troublesome.  Unfortunately, however, her stunning countenance and all too womanly curves were making that deuced hard for him to keep in mind.

Even now, with those thoughts in mind, he was hard-pressed to keep his eyes from straying in her direction and lingering upon her striking profile, just as they had the night before. “So, tell me Rafael, what is it that has you up and about so early this morning?” he asked, forcibly redirecting his errant gaze as he sat back in his chair and turned his attention to his brother.

Rafael looked to him with a curious expression, a forkful of eggs hovering just inches above his plate. 

“I only ask, as it isn’t like you to leave your bed any earlier than you have to.”  A look passed between them then, as his brother read the unspoken question in his eyes. 

Casting a quick, sidelong glance at Penelope, Rafael’s expression shifted into a knowing smirk as he turned his gaze back to Gabriel.  “Oh, I’m fairly certain you can guess the answer to that yourself, Gabe,” he replied with a devilish wink, before forking the bite of eggs into his mouth. 

Gabriel stiffened slightly.  “Can I?”

Rafael nodded, swallowing his eggs and then taking a sip of his tea before responding.  “Tis this wonderfully refreshing country air, of course,” he answered with a broad smile.  “That
is
what you would have guessed, is it not?”

Noting the thinly veiled amusement reflected in Rafael’s jovial tone, Gabriel frowned in irritation, knowing precisely what his brother was thinking.  Unfortunately it was an all too accurate assumption; and knowing his brother, one he was certain to be ribbed mercilessly for once they were alone. As for
him
of all people to display even the merest hint of jealousy, or anything even remotely similar to that particular emotion, was without doubt a most unique occurrence and not one his provoking younger brother would simply choose to ignore.

Somewhat perplexed by the rather incongruous comments and peculiar looks passing between the duke and his brother, Penny turned her attention to her plate and managed to swallow a small bite of ham. 

“You’re not eating?” Rafael asked his brother as he shoveled another large mound of eggs onto his fork.

The duke glanced toward the sideboard disinterestedly.  “Maybe later.  For now, I’ll simply enjoy my coffee,” he replied.  “Besides, it appears that you are eating more than enough for the both of us, as usual,” he added glibly, raising his cup to his lips.

Lord Ashcroft merely grinned as he swallowed his eggs and then reached for one of the raspberry tarts he’d added to his plate.  “Nothing wrong with a healthy appetite.  Wouldn’t you agree, Lady Penelope?”

Penny looked up from her plate.  “No, certainly not,” she concurred with an affirming smile.

“Yet you’ve hardly touched your breakfast,” he remarked, looking pointedly at her still full plate.  “Is the food not to your liking?”

“Oh no, it’s quite delicious,” she was quick to assure him.  “I fear I simply haven’t much of an appetite this morning.”  Was it any wonder her appetite had deserted her, she mused, for having little experience with men, especially men like Gabriel and Rafael Ashcroft whose every word and action seemed to reflect casual assurance and innate self-confidence, was unsettling to say the least and had her feeling decidedly young and woefully unsophisticated.

Lord Ashcroft nodded before popping the raspberry tart into his mouth.  “Heavenly,” he exclaimed, directing his eyes skyward as he chewed.

Penny couldn’t help but smile at his reaction.  “The Gilchrist’s pastry chef is a true wonder.”

“He is indeed.”

Cutting a slice of ham, she managed another small bite.

Lord Ashcroft smiled approvingly before turning his gaze back to the duke.  “You know, Gabe, Lady Penelope was just telling me that she’s been to Gilchrist Castle before, a number of times actually.”

The duke’s eyes settled on Penny, his expression reflecting a well-mannered interest as he set his cup upon the table.  “Oh?”

She opened her mouth to respond, but Lord Ashcroft spoke more quickly, answering for her. 

“Oh yes,” he stated with an enthusiastic smile.  “She’s quite familiar with the castle’s every nook and cranny in fact.  So naturally, as medieval architecture has long been an interest of mine, I took the liberty of asking her if she might be willing to afford me with a personal tour later today.”

As Penny watched, the duke’s pleasant expression altered slightly as he looked to his brother, his features seeming to tighten just the tiniest little bit; though if she hadn’t been looking directly at him she doubted that she would have noticed as the change was nearly imperceptible.  “Did you?” he replied.

Lord Ashcroft nodded unperturbedly and then promptly popped another of the tiny raspberry tarts into his mouth.

“How peculiar,” the duke murmured, “that I cannot seem to recall you having mentioned such a unique interest before.”

Lord Ashcroft merely shrugged as he still had a mouthful of raspberry tart. 

Turning his penetrating, green-eyed gaze from his brother to her, the duke asked, “And did you acquiesce to my brother’s entreaty, Lady Penelope?”

Penny shifted uncomfortably in her chair, discomfited by the sudden intensity of the duke’s regard.  “Well, no… I… that is…” Good gracious she was stammering like an absolute hen wit, she realized in dismay, struggling to compose herself.  “I hadn’t yet given him an answer.”  Odd, but the duke seemed decidedly pleased by her response, Penny noted, watching as his features visibly relaxed. 

“Well then, let me assure you, Lady Penelope, that you needn’t feel the least bit compelled to indulge my brother’s presumptuous request, for I’m certain there are a number of individuals within Lord Gilchrist’s employ who would be more than happy to provide him with a comprehensive tour of the castle and indulge his interest in…” he glanced toward his brother questioningly, “
medieval architecture
was it?”

“Indeed,” Lord Ashcroft replied with a nod.  “My brother is quite right, however,” he continued, turning to Penny, “for it
was
terribly inconsiderate of me to ask you to show me about, especially as Lady Gilchrist undoubtedly has a busy day planned for you and the other female guests.”

“Truly there is no need to apologize, my lord,” Penny assured him with a gracious smile.  Even so, she couldn’t deny feeling a touch of relief at having been spared from responding to his request.  For while she wouldn’t have minded showing Lord Ashcroft around the castle, she hadn’t been altogether certain that an afternoon foray through the castle’s dimly-lit halls and winding corridors with a gentleman of Rafael Ashcroft’s somewhat scandalous reputation would have been entirely appropriate, despite the reason. “However, I do believe you are correct about the busyness of my day, for I’m told that Lady Gilchrist has a number of activities planned to keep us occupied.”  Of course, she silently acknowledged, if the
duke
had been the one to make such a request she would have been hard-pressed not to have immediately acquiesced, throwing caution entirely to the wind.