The Perfect Duke Page 15

  Stacey nodded her agreement, and the two continued on their walk.

  ***

  Finally, three days later, Lady Blakemoor sent the invitation so that the upcoming ball could be discussed. Tara was beginning to think the lady had forgotten all about it. She’d heard that Lady Blakemoor was busy shopping and giving her husband’s townhouse a lady’s touch, but Tara had no idea it took her so long to get everything the way she wanted it in a home. Lady Blakemoor should know better than to engage in all of those activities while there was work to be done with the group. While they had managed to save the group from being completely ruined, there was much to be done to build it back up.

  So it was with relief when she arrived at Lady Blakemoor’s residence to finally discuss the ball. To her surprise, Sir Tristan Blakemoor, who happened to be coming down the hallway when she arrived, rushed over to her as soon as the footman let her into the drawing room.

  He turned to the footman. “You must not tell anyone about this.” Then he slipped the footman a coin.

  The footman seemed just as shocked as she felt as he stared at the coin in his hand.

  “Go on,” Sir Tristan Blakemoor told him. “This will be tended to quickly.”

  What would be tended to quickly? What on earth was Sir Tristan Blakemoor talking about?

  He closed the doors on the bewildered footman and turned to her. “You can’t keep coming here.”

  “Why not?” Tara demanded, hands on her hips. She hadn’t brought the invitation with her, but apparently, it seemed necessary to prove she had every right to be here.

  He stared at her for a moment as if he was struggling to come up with an answer. Then he took her hands in his. Before she could pull away from him, he said, “I’m married to someone else. It’s not right for you to be here.”

  She blinked in surprise. Is that what he thought? He actually believed she was still sulking because he hadn’t married her? He thought she was here to be with him? She’d come across gentlemen who were full of their own conceit, but this one made them all look humble.

  She pulled her hands out of his. “I’m here to see your wife.”

  By the way he shook his head, she could tell he didn’t believe her.

  She rolled her eyes. “Your wife and I are in the same group. It’s called Ladies of Grace,” she added since he was slow to understand things. “I’m here to discuss the upcoming ball.”

  “Yes, I realize that’s the excuse you’re using.”

  He realized that was the excuse she was using? Was he really that daft? “Sir Blakemoor,” she began, “I happen to be relieved you and I never married. I’m much happier with the Duke of Ravenshire.”

  Under ordinary circumstances, she wouldn’t have been so blunt, but the fact that he actually thought she wanted to be with him was absurd. He needed to hear the truth, and it needed to be direct if he was to get the point.

  His eyes grew wide as if he couldn’t believe what she’d just said. “You aren’t harboring feelings for me?”

  “No. I never did. I only talked to you because you’re Lady Cadwalader’s nephew. I was hoping to get her to think favorably of Ladies of Grace since you and I would have an association with each other.”

  His eyebrows furrowed in a way that indicated he was still trying to make sense of what she was saying. “Was this association going to include marriage?”

  “I would have married you in order to regain the respectability of the group.”

  “So you did want me.”

  “I wanted your connection to Lady Cadwalader.” Since he stared at her with a blank expression on his face, she continued, “I never wanted you. You were a means to an end.”

  This time, his eyes lit up with understanding, and his face grew red. “You were using me?”

  Feeling a little guilty for deflating his ego, she offered a sympathetic smile. “Everything I did was for the sake of the group. Lady Eloise had almost ruined it. Your wife and I were desperate to save it.”

  “Did my wife want to marry me?”

  “I don’t know. I assume so if she chose you over the Duke of Ravenshire.” Though she would never figure out why. Between the two of them, Nick was a far better choice. It had to have been Lady Cadwalader. Lady Blakemoor had always wanted to be in Lady Cadwalader’s good graces.

  He paused for a very long moment, and she could practically see his mind going over something. Finally, he said, “She did want to marry me. She and her mother came here to visit me a couple of times. My wife sent me all sorts of hints that she wished I would marry her instead of you.”

  Tara had no idea why he felt the need to tell her that, but she didn’t care one way or another how the two decided to marry each other. The point was, Tara was spared a lifetime with him and that made her very happy.

  “I’m glad you both ended up together,” she finally replied since he seemed to want her to say something.

  Then, just to let him know the conversation was over, she went to the doors and opened them. The last thing she wanted was to be stuck in a room with someone who wanted to believe she was pining away for him. She rolled her eyes. If she was going to spend the rest of her life obsessing over someone, it would be someone like Nick. He was gorgeous, charming, and sweet. Sir Tristan Blakemoor was weak-willed and pathetic.

  The footman approached the drawing room, and Tara was relieved to see Stacey. Thank goodness. Now she didn’t have to be stuck alone with Sir Tristan Blakemoor anymore.

  “I hope I’m not late,” Stacey said. “I had to help my mother before I left.”

  “Lady Blakemoor isn’t here yet, so you’re fine,” Tara replied. “Besides, even if you were late, no one would criticize you for it.” Well, Lady Blakemoor might, but Tara would put a stop to it at once. Lady Blakemoor was not going to dictate things like Lady Eloise had.

  The butler came in with tea and crumpets.

  Tara waited until he left before turning to Sir Tristan Blakemoor. “Do you plan to be here for the Ladies of Grace meeting?”

  His eyebrows furrowed. “Is that what you want?”

  She stared at him in disbelief. Didn’t he just hear her say she didn’t want to be with him, much less marry him? “No, I don’t want you here.”

  Though he didn’t seem fully convinced, he left the room. With a groan, she went over to the settee.

  As she poured tea into three cups, Stacey followed her. “Weren’t you a little rude to him?”

  “He thinks I’m secretly in love with him,” Tara muttered.

  “Is that because he was originally your suitor?”

  Tara nodded and handed Stacey a cup. She patted the spot next to her on the settee and sat down. She waited until Stacey was beside her before she answered. “I suppose it’s my fault. I went up to him and started flirting with him.”

  Stacey, who’d been about to take a sip of tea, lowered the cup and turned to face her. “You started flirting with him?”

  “I was desperate to save the group. I only picked him because he was Lady Cadwalader’s nephew. She had no other male relatives of marriageable age to marry. I thought having a direct connection to her would be good for the group.” With a sigh, she shook her head. “I had no idea he was so in love with himself. He assumed I was devastated when he married someone else. You’d think that if anyone should be conceited, it would be the gentleman I did end up marrying. At least, he’s good-looking enough to be conceited.”

  Stacey’s lips curled up. “It is a bit funny when you think about it.”

  Tara considered the possibility there might be humor in this situation and realized her friend was right. She supposed to an outsider, it was amusing. She, on the other hand, was annoyed. Was it going to be like this every time she came here? Sir Tristan Blakemoor was going to chase after her and plead with her to go on with her own life? She hoped not. Just this past conversation had given her the beginnings of a headache.

  Lady Blakemoor breezed into the room, and Tara, who had just taken a drink
of her tea, nearly spit it out when she saw that the lady was wearing an orange gown so bright that it made her squint. Tara had seen her in some ridiculous things, but this was one of the worst she’d ever come across.

  To make matters worse, in her hair was a jeweled object that was so large it was actually perched upon her head. It sparkled with an assortment of gems. It was in an odd shape, too. It wasn’t quite a square because it had some curves along the edges, but for the life of her, Tara couldn’t figure out what it was supposed to be.

  Lady Blakemoor sat across from them and picked up the third cup. Tara noticed that she was careful not to tip her head forward, which was good because if she did, the thing would probably fall out and land on the tray in front of her.

  Tara scooted back on the settee, just in case that thing did fall out and land on the tea and crumpets. She might not have gowns as expensive as Lady Blakemoor did, but she didn’t want to ruin them.

  Lady Blakemoor patted her hair, her fingers just shy of the large decoration in her hair. Oh dear. That meant she wanted Tara or Stacey to comment on the stupid thing. Tara glanced over at Stacey, wondering if she wanted to take the bait.

  “That’s an interesting thing in your hair,” Stacey finally said when Tara refused to speak.

  Lady Blakemoor chuckled and patted her hair again. “Oh, this little thing?”

  Little? Tara glanced at Stacey who seemed to be thinking the thing couldn’t possibly get bigger and remain on her head.

  “My dear husband got it for me,” Lady Blakemoor said then sipped her tea. “Isn’t he a darling? I keep telling him that if he keeps doing this, he’ll spoil me.”

  At times like this, it took all of Tara’s self-control to keep her thoughts to herself. She’d managed to exercise such restraint while Lady Eloise was in charge of the group, and thanks to that, she was able to do so now.

  “He had it especially made for me,” Lady Blakemoor continued. “He had the jeweler craft the design himself. He wanted to make sure no one else would have something that looked just like it.”

  No one else wanted anything that looked just like it. Tara couldn’t believe anyone envied her taste in fashion. She picked up a crumpet and bit into it so she wouldn’t blurt this out.

  “Isn’t the design wonderful?” Lady Blakemoor asked. “As soon as I saw it, I knew it was perfect for me.”

  “Yes, it is perfect for you,” Tara commented. At least, she could honestly say that!

  Lady Blakemoor let out a light chuckle then set her cup down, making her have to hold onto the atrocious thing so it didn’t fall off of her head. “I hope you two are enjoying the life of a married lady like I am.”

  “My husband is very nice to me,” Stacey replied.

  Lady Blakemoor turned her gaze to Tara. “And how are things between you and the duke?”

  “They’re fine,” Tara said. Eager to get to the point of this meeting, she continued, “Have you given any thought to who we should invite to the upcoming ball?”

  “We must have my husband’s aunt and uncle, Lady and Lord Cadwalader,” Lady Blakemoor replied. “They’re the first ones to get an invitation.”

  This was to be expected since those two had a lot of influence in the Ton. Plus they were her husband’s family members.

  “Then we’ll have to invite everyone who is friends with Lady and Lord Cadwalader,” Lady Blakemoor continued. “It would be in poor taste to leave them out.”

  Again, Tara couldn’t argue her logic.

  “One person we simply can’t invite is Lady Eloise,” Lady Blakemoor said. “She’s the reason this group is in turmoil right now. I’m going to have my footman make sure she doesn’t get into the ball.”

  “How are you going to do that?” Tara asked.

  “I’m going to give my footman a list of everyone who’s allowed to be at the ball, and anyone who isn’t on it will be turned away.”

  Tara tapped the edge of her cup and glanced at Stacey. Was that really a good idea? “I can see forbidding Lady Eloise from coming to the ball, but I hesitate to do that to anyone else who wishes to attend. Granted, we’ll invite specific people. There’s no harm in that. But if we intentionally block out others from coming, this could make us look bad.”

  “Having a group of undesirables in attendance won’t be good for the group, either. If we have people like Lord Edon, Mr. Robinson, or Lord Toplyn at the ball, Lady Cadwalader won’t come. If Lady Cadwalader doesn’t come, that means her very influential friends won’t come, either. The whole point of this ball is for them to boost our group’s reputation.”

  “I can understand Lady Cadwalader not liking Lord Edon since he was such a rake, but what’s wrong with the other two gentlemen?”

  “Apparently, there was this incident at Lord Toplyn’s ball two years ago where the Marquess of Dodsworth, who used to go by Dr. Westward, told Lady Cadwalader that she was fat. Then he threw cheese at her and her friends.”

  Stacey’s jaw dropped. “I heard about that. My father was livid that Lord Dodsworth would do such a thing.”

  “Your father was right to be livid,” Lady Blakemoor said. “There was no excuse for what he did. But what made it worse was that Lord Toplyn stood up on a chair and defended Lord Dodsworth’s actions.” She shook her head, and the huge object in her hair almost fell out. She quickly put her hand up to it to stop it. Once it was settled back in place, she added, “Lord Edon and Mr. Robinson gave their support of him, too. So, as you can see, I can’t allow them at this ball.”

  Tara frowned. “Why did Lord Dodsworth call her fat and throw cheese at her?”

  “Does it matter?” Lady Blakemoor asked.

  “It might,” Tara replied. “Maybe she deserved it.”

  Lady Blakemoor gasped.

  “You can’t be under the delusion that Lady Cadwalader is perfect,” Tara said. “I know she’s one of the most influential members of the Ton, but she’s done and said some things that have upset quite a few people.”

  “It doesn’t matter if she’s said or done anything to upset others. She’s above scrutiny.”

  “Says who?”

  “The Ton.” She shook her head in disbelief, and again, the atrocious thing almost fell out of her hair. “I’m surprised at you. You should know better than to question anything Lady Cadwalader says or does. Her word is the only one that matters.”

  “No one should be so important that their words and actions don’t have consequences.”

  Lady Blakemoor smirked. “I’m shocked you should say such a thing when she,” she gestured to Stacey, “publicly disgraced herself by being seen in public without a chaperone before she married Lord Whitney.”

  Stacey blanched, and before she could respond, Tara said, “She’s done nothing that’s ruined her reputation. I just enjoyed a walk with her the other day, and everyone extended a greeting to her. Apparently, she was discreet when she was with Lord Whitney.”

  “Lady Cadwalader’s been discreet, too, which makes my argument valid. We will not invite Lord Topyln, Lord Edon, or Mr. Robinson to this ball. I want only those Lady Cadwalader approves of to be at this townhouse.”

  Lady Blakemoor stared at Tara as if challenging her to keep arguing with her. After a long moment, Tara decided it wasn’t worth the fight. As much as she hated to admit it, Lady Blakemoor’s marriage to Lady Cadwalader’s nephew gave her an advantage that neither she nor Stacey had. Right now, the needs of the group came before those who couldn’t come to the ball. Once the group was in better standing, they might be able to host a ball at Stacey’s residence. Then anyone besides Lady Eloise could attend.

  There was no way she and Nick could host one at their townhouse any time soon. His townhouse was in good condition from the outside and in the rooms that were frequently used, but the ballroom needed a few repairs. At the moment, she didn’t want to spend the money to repair it because the money could be better spent on other things. Plus, she needed to invest some of it or else they’d eventually run out o
f it.

  “All right,” Tara relented. “We’ll do things your way.”

  Lady Blakemoor smiled in satisfaction. “It’s nice to know you can be sensible about some things.” She took another sip of her tea then set her cup down. “I’ll get a parchment out and write up a list of guests.”

  As she rose from the chair, Tara glanced at Stacey, noting that Stacey didn’t look the least bit pleased with the way things had gone. Tara couldn’t blame her. She wasn’t pleased, either, but as long as Lady Blakemoor had the advantage, they had to bend to some of what she wanted. Tara knew when to pick a fight and when to back off. This was one of those times when she had to back off.

  Lady Blakemoor went to the desk and pulled out the parchment from one of the drawers. “I’ll make two lists. One is of people to invite and the other is of people who aren’t allowed at the ball. We’ll start with the one for people who are allowed.” She unscrewed the top of the inkwell then dipped the quill into it. “At the top will be Lord and Lady Cadwalader.”

  Tara took another bite of the crumpet. This was going to be a long afternoon. Already, she’d felt as if she’d been here for two hours, and glancing at the clock told her she’d only been here for a half hour.

  After Lady Blakemoor wrote on the parchment, she added, “Lord and Lady Riggley should be next. Lord Riggley is Lady Cadwalader’s brother, so it’s important we put them at the top of the list.”

  As she proceeded down the list, Tara gave another look in Stacey’s direction. Stacey was staring at the cup in her hand. Who knew if she was even paying attention? Tara knew Lord Edon and Mr. Robinson were good friends with Lord Whitney. That fact, in addition to the criticism Lady Blakemoor had thrown Stacey’s way about the whole ‘not having a chaperone’ thing, had to have upset her.

  When they left this townhouse, Tara would have to comfort Stacey. This was a short-term strategy. They wouldn’t be at Lady Blakemoor’s mercy forever. Sooner or later, the tide would change, and when it did, they would act then. For the time being, they would go along with as much as they needed to in order to reach their goal.