Duchess Material

Five

I t was barely past nine, but the Wrenhews’ ballroom was already a crush. Will stood at the edge of the dance floor and scanned the sea of too familiar faces chattering away about nothing of consequence and discreetly checked his pocket watch yet again. He had already danced once with Lady Gwendolyn Fairbanks. Now he needed to stand here for three more turns until he could claim his second and get the hell out of here, where a mountain of paperwork and a glass of single malt awaited him at home. Will shoved the watch back into his breast pocket. Best not to ruminate on why he was more interested in spending the evening locked in his study with inanimate objects rather than his soon-to-be-betrothed. Luckily, a distraction approached.

“Fairbanks, good evening.”

The earl came beside him. “You and my daughter make a handsome pair.”

“Any man is improved in her presence.”

The earl chuckled and absently ran a hand down his short salt-and-pepper beard. Though he must be well into his fifties, he still garnered his share of flirtatious looks from matrons and maids alike. Every now and then there was a whisper about his days as one of London’s most dissolute young gentlemen, but Will wasn’t the kind to listen to rumors. Besides, former libertine or not, Lord Fairbanks had gone on to marry the beautiful daughter of a duke and was a well-respected member of society.

“You don’t need to flatter me, Duke. I already approve, of course.”

Will’s brow furrowed. Then why was he wasting his time wooing her?

“Let the girl have her fun for a few more weeks,” the earl continued, as if he were able to read Will’s thoughts. “Before she takes on the role of a wife. I am given to understand it can be quite taxing,” he added with a smirk.

“Of course,” Will replied softly.

Lord Fairbanks had been a close friend of the old duke and mentored Will when he first took his seat in Parliament more than half a decade ago. He had been barely a man, fresh out of Oxford and still finding his feet in a world he had been thrust into just two years before. Will always enjoyed healthy political debate in school, or at the dinner table, but once he was in a position to actually do something, he was overwhelmed. The earl was a powerful member of the Conservatives and though they didn’t always see eye to eye, Will owed him a debt of gratitude for his guidance for so many years.

It was only natural now that Will was of an age to marry that he would consider Lady Gwen. She was beautiful, refined, and had been raised from the cradle to be a duchess. The earl had also made no secret of his desire to see Will hold the highest office in the land, and promised she would be a valuable asset and support his political ambitions.

Will wasn’t entirely sure he even wanted to be prime minister—being a duke was more than enough work on its own–but he had learned it was always better to be prepared for both the expected and the accidental. Though some might argue that was impossible, Will had arranged his life in such a way that he would never again be at the mercy of something as erratic as fate.

“Just a few more weeks of this nonsense and you can announce your engagement,” Fairbanks continued. “My wife is hoping for an early June wedding. Something about the peonies being in season.”

Will cleared his throat. That was rather soon.

The earl raised an eyebrow at his noticeable silence. “I thought you wanted a short engagement.”

“I did. I do,” Will amended. But that was before. When it had merely been a strategy, rather than an actual life decision.

“Glad to hear it.” Fairbanks punctuated his words with a clap on Will’s back. “Though a great many ladies will be very disappointed,” he added with a nod toward a passel of mamas nearby who all had daughters out and were utterly failing to hide their interest in him.

Will’s shoulders tightened as two women cast him very obvious looks before whispering to one another behind a fan. No doubt they intended to cajole him into dancing with one of the wallflowers lining the room, but Will was not in the mood to be charitable this evening. He was the only unmarried duke under sixty in all of England and every time he entered a ballroom, he had the distinct sensation of being stalked by a bloodthirsty predator. But they would not make a meal of him tonight.

“Fly, good Fleance,” the earl said, quoting Macbeth with a devious little grin. “Fly, fly!”

Will shot him an exasperated glance and wove his way through the crowd, while the earl’s cackle nipped at his heels. Once he made it out of the ballroom, Will swiftly rounded a corner right into the path of a young lady coming in the opposite direction.

“My apologies,” he burst out as he steadied her shoulders before she could tumble over. But as the girl lifted her face to him, Will was dumbstruck. He blinked a few times before he found his voice.

“ Phoebe? ”

She wriggled out of his grasp and stepped back to smooth her skirts. “You needn’t sound so shocked.”

Will begged to differ, given the sight before him. Phoebe Atkinson was trussed up in a pale blue ball gown that showed off her lithe figure, while her hair, now fully on display, was plaited in an intricate knot at the back of her head.

She looked lovely, to be sure, but quite different from the last time they met. Only her hazel eyes, sparkling with that familiar edge of defiance in the hallway’s low gaslight, remained unchanged.

“Can you blame me? You never come to these things.”

Phoebe looked away. “Yes, well, tonight I have a reason.”

Something skittered in Will’s chest. Had she come here for a man? The thought unsettled him far more than he cared to admit. But before he could press her further, Freddie Atkinson called to them as she hurried over.

“There you are!” Then she shot Phoebe a knowing look. “And you’ve already found Will.”

He immediately perked up. Phoebe was looking for him? That shouldn’t be so pleasing to hear.

But Freddie wasn’t done interrogating her sister. “Why didn’t you wait for me?”

“You were having quite an engrossing discussion with Lord Danvers,” Phoebe said with a shrug. “I didn’t think you would notice.”

Freddie dismissed the idea with a flick of her wrist. “Oh please. I was only making small talk. It’s generally expected at social events,” she added pointedly.

Phoebe responded with a huff and crossed her arms.

Will’s curiosity finally got the better of him. “You were looking for me?”

Both sisters turned toward him then. A weaker man who hadn’t grown up with these girls might have cowered in the face of their uncommonly direct gaze.

The Atkinson sisters were not known for being shy and retiring. Most gentlemen avoided Alex whenever possible and very few could match wits with Freddie, while Phoebe had simply taken herself out of the equation for reasons Will still didn’t understand.

“I dragged Phoebe here with me tonight because she needs your help, even if she is reluctant to admit it,” Freddie explained.

Will cast a glance at Phoebe, who did indeed look like she would rather be fed to wild dogs than stand there.

“How intriguing,” he said. “I’m all ears.”

“I want to know who owns the tenement building where my missing student lives,” she said in a rush. “Freddie seems to think you can find out.” Though Phoebe herself looked skeptical. And that didn’t sit right with him.

Will turned to Freddie, who simply shrugged her shoulders, before addressing Phoebe. “I should be able to, yes. But why do you want to know?”

“The more I think about what happened yesterday, the stranger it becomes.” Phoebe shook her head in thought. “That maintenance man was so determined to stop me from finding out about Alice. But why? He must know something or is trying to protect someone.”

Will exchanged another look with Freddie. “Or you may be reading far too much into your brief interaction with him.”

“It might not mean anything,” she acknowledged, “but it’s the only lead I have on Alice. I need to see it through.”

“And then what? You’ll confront this person? You’ve already been arrested for trespassing on their property. You heard the inspector. They could still press charges.”

“I can be careful.”

“You should always be careful,” Will insisted, well aware that he sounded like a fretful nursemaid.

Phoebe appeared undaunted by his little outburst. “Something is amiss here. Something bigger than Alice’s disappearance. I’m sure of it.”

As she continued to stare at him with her solemn gaze, Will could actually feel his resolve weaken. Later, he would wonder if that was the precise moment he lost all good sense.

“All right,” he groused. “I’ll look into it. But I make no promises.”

Phoebe suddenly broke into a dazzling smile. “Oh, thank you. Truly. Anything you find would be helpful, I’m sure.”

A full peal of bells clattered in his head. Good lord. The things he was prepared to do to have her smile like that again went far beyond a little fact-finding. Will needed to leave. Immediately. But before he could make his excuses they were approached by Lord Danvers, who was gazing at Freddie with the kind of anxious hopefulness normally reserved for small children asking for a second dish of pudding.

“Miss Atkinson? I believe our dance is coming up.”

“Oh! I nearly forgot,” she said airily, as if she had left behind her hat and not one of the most eligible bachelors in London. As Freddie took Lord Danvers’s arm she glanced back at Will. “Dance with her, will you?”

The alarm bells were now deafening, but it would be the height of rudeness to say no.

Phoebe shot her sister a murderous glare just as Will offered his hand. “My pleasure.”

Her eyes widened in surprise but she took it without comment. Will led her back into the ballroom and onto the dance floor. As the music started, he swept her into his arms. Though he had waltzed with dozens of women over the years, holding Phoebe felt decidedly different. They were attuned to each other in a way he hadn’t experienced. Though he must have whirled her around the Atkinson’s parlor a time or two growing up, Will struggled to recall any particular memory now. Still, dancing with her was easy. Familiar. After a few moments Will lost himself in the movements and had completed two full turns before he realized people were staring at them. Or, more precisely, at her .

Phoebe seemed to read his thoughts. “Did it not occur to you that we would draw attention?”

“I’m used to it.” Will had not enjoyed any kind of anonymity for many years. Not since he became the heir to a dukedom.

He felt the sigh that escaped her. “I don’t know how you stand it. I couldn’t.”

Will had the sudden urge to point out that he hadn’t much choice in the matter, actually, but he swallowed the bitter reply. No one liked a bellyacher, especially when he was a duke.

“The end justifies the means,” he grumbled instead.

She arched a brow. “Still doesn’t seem worth it to me. But then, I don’t expect to ever marry,” she added as she cast a dull gaze around the room.

“I’m sure there are any number of gentlemen who would be happy to have you as a wife,” he said gently.

Her eyes snapped back to his face and Phoebe let out a laugh. “Oh, heavens, look at you! Good lord, I don’t want to.”

Will couldn’t hide his shock. “Why not?”

“I already earn enough to support myself,” she said. “What use would I have for a husband?”

Will suddenly felt very stodgy. “Love? Companionship? Protection?”

Phoebe laughed again, but this time with a dismissive edge that rankled him for some reason. “Surely you know one doesn’t have to be married to experience such things. And that would not necessitate me giving up my autonomy or becoming nothing more than chattel.”

He hadn’t really considered that. “Nearly every woman I know talks of nothing but marriage.”

“Well, can you blame them?” Phoebe challenged. “Society tells us that a single woman is at best an inconvenience and at worst an aberration. I can understand why so many choose the safety of marriage—even if it isn’t always in their best interest,” she added.

Will cleared his throat. “What about children?”

Phoebe’s chin lifted. “What about them?”

“Do you… do you not want any?”

This conversation had become highly inappropriate for a ballroom. Though he couldn’t think of anywhere it would be appropriate. And yet, he couldn’t stop himself from asking such a personal question. He wanted to know her answer. Wanted to know what kind of future she envisioned for herself.

Phoebe looked past him. “I haven’t given it much thought,” she said. “And I’d rather be available to help my students.”

It was a perfectly reasonable response, and yet Will felt a strange pang of disappointment. “Your dedication is admirable,” he said stiffly.

But Phoebe shrugged off the compliment. “I’m no different from the other women I teach with.”

“Tell me about the missing girl,” he said after a moment. It was well past time to move away from matrimony and babies. “What was her name again?”

Phoebe perked up at that. “Alice Clarke. She’s a bright girl and a hard worker. She wants to go to secretarial school.”

“And you don’t think it’s possible that she ran off? Maybe she found work outside the city.” Though as he said the words, Will realized how silly that sounded. People were pouring into London every day looking for work.

Phoebe shook her head. “Not without telling anyone. And she was so determined. She wouldn’t just disappear. Not unless—” Phoebe swallowed hard and cleared her throat. “I need to know that she is safe. She has no other family. There is no one else looking for her. She’ll become yet another girl swallowed up by this city.” Then her jaw hardened as she met Will’s eyes. “Which is why I’m going back to that tenement house.”

“But Inspector Holland—”

“Has far more important things to do than look into another missing girl,” she cut in. “You know this, Margrave. I can’t waste any more time waiting for him.”

In the space of a moment, her entire bearing had changed. She seemed more confident. Determined. Unapologetic. It was the exact opposite of the modest serenity a young unmarried lady was expected to embody, especially at a ball. But it seemed safe to assume that Phoebe didn’t give a damn about any of that.

“Then let me accompany you.”

“There’s no need—”

“I promised the inspector that I would be responsible for you,” he reminded her before leaning in a little closer. “And I take my responsibilities very seriously.”

Her hazel eyes darkened and Will found he could not look away.

“Give me two days,” he urged. “I’ll see what I can find about the owner of the tenement house as well.”

“All right,” Phoebe said after a breath. Then she arched a brow. “But I won’t wait longer than that.”

The corner of Will’s mouth curved up. It had been a long, long time since anyone other than his mother demonstrated such utter disregard for his opinion. “Understood.”

It was another moment before he realized the music had stopped and they were the only couple still holding each other. He immediately let her go and escorted her off the floor, but there was no chance their faux paus had gone unnoticed. As they rejoined Freddie, she didn’t even try to hide her smirk while he could nearly feel Lady Gwen’s sharp-eyed gaze raking his back from across the room. Will stiffened. He had let Phoebe distract him long enough.

“Thank you for the company, Miss Atkinson,” he said with a short bow. “Good evening, ladies.” Then he walked away before either could reply. By the time he reached Lady Gwen, she had managed to resume her bored expression—aside from the slight crease between her brows.

“Who is that with Winifred Atkinson?”

“Her sister.”

Lady Gwen wrinkled her nose. “The one that supposedly works for their father?”

Will’s lips pursed at her skeptical tone, but it was hardly the first time someone questioned the nature of Alex’s role in the company. “That is Alexandra,” he replied. “Phoebe is a schoolteacher. She doesn’t move much in society.”

“Oh.” Lady Gwen’s shoulders relaxed. “I suppose that’s why she’s wearing a gown from last season. For a moment I thought it might be someone important,” she drawled.

Will ignored the impulse to reprove her, as that would only arouse her suspicions once again. “No,” he said, making sure to match her careless tone while he watched the Atkinson sisters retreat out of the corner of his eye. “Not at all.”