Duchess Material

Thirteen

A re you certain you don’t want a shave, Your Grace?”

Will met the nervous gaze of Peabody, his valet, in the mirror as he buttoned his waistcoat. “Are you trying to say you don’t like my beard?”

Peabody’s eyes widened. “Oh no, Your Grace! I think it suits you very well. But it isn’t… it’s not…”

“My usual look,” Will supplied, saving the man from further embarrassment.

“Yes,” he said with relief. “That’s all.”

Will returned his gaze to his reflection and rubbed a hand against the dark beard that had grown in over the last week. “I quite like it.”

“Change can be a good thing,” Peabody replied, though he didn’t sound certain.

Will smiled. “Agreed.”

Peabody then helped Will into his evening coat and smoothed the fabric across his shoulders and arms with practiced care. Will stood still as Peabody performed his final check. He had never really gotten used to being dressed by a valet, but the old duke had explained that for men like Peabody, this was their life’s work, a point of pride and the highest honor to dress a duke. That had sounded a little self-serving to Will, but he had to admit that Peabody did a far better job shaving him than he ever could. Not to mention he kept Will’s clothes pristine. Most of the time, though, Will dressed himself unless he had an event to attend that required him to look particularly fashionable, like tonight.

“There,” Peabody said. “What do you think?”

Will stared at his reflection in the dressing room’s full-length mirror. The beard had seemed a good idea to help further conceal his identity when he attended Fleur later, at least from this Maude woman. If anyone else happened to recognize him, his presence at such an establishment, while unusual, was not extraordinary. He was a duke, after all.

“Excellent, Peabody.”

The man beamed and gave a bow before leaving the room. Will checked his pocket watch. He needed to leave in a few minutes.

Or you could stop playing detective and focus on finding a wife .

Will grimaced. This business with Phoebe had turned into a wild, distracting goose chase. He had properly stuck his foot in it with Lady Gwen when he completely forgot about their afternoon ride earlier in the week. The poor girl had been left waiting in Hyde Park with her chaperone for nearly an hour before she gave up on Will. When he arrived at her home breathless and full of regret, she had graciously accepted his apologies, but Lady Fairbanks had been visibly irritated.

Understandable, given that she and Lord Fairbanks were expecting a proposal that Will had yet to deliver. And it hadn’t seemed like the right time to explain that one would not be coming, so he stayed for an awkward cup of tea with mother and daughter before making his exit.

Since then he kept his social schedule to a bare minimum and instead focused on the never-ending business of being the duke while trying to tie up a few loose ends. His secretary still hadn’t been able to uncover the identity of the owner of that decrepit tenement building and Inspector Holland hadn’t made any progress regarding the untimely death of Mr. Felton nor the whereabouts of Alice Clarke. But Will needed to see this through—he wanted to.

He felt more invigorated these last few weeks than he had in years. Helping Phoebe gave him a purpose that went beyond simply standing about and looking important. He was actually doing things. Not just signing papers or listening as his peers complained about the crumbling state of the world from the confines of their luxurious homes while doing absolutely nothing about it. Will knew his own contribution was laughably small, but he was determined to do more starting tonight.

He planned to stay at Fleur only long enough to discreetly ask about Alice Clarke, as Phoebe was worried the girl was working for Maude. Obviously it would be better if Phoebe herself was with him, but that was absolutely going too far. Then he could stop by Lord Fairbanks’s club afterward, as it was nearby. Better to tell him first that an engagement to Lady Gwen wouldn’t work. Will’s stomach clenched. The earl would not take such news well. Their relationship had already grown chilly thanks to Will’s reluctance to support his bill. No doubt it would grow downright frigid once Will revealed his own competing plan and he could no longer rely on the goodwill of his mentor.

Will let out a sigh as he pocketed his watch and left the room. Time to get to work.

Half an hour later, Will’s carriage stopped at the corner of a quiet West End street not far from Soho. A remarkably average-looking town house was up ahead. The third in the middle of a row of equally unassuming houses. He checked the card Maude had given him, but this was the correct address. Will stepped down onto the pavement and looked around. The street was as silent as a graveyard, but he had the distinct sensation that he was being watched. Will gave himself a shake and headed toward the house. As he grew closer, someone emerged from the shadows and his heart stopped. They passed under a gas lamp, and he could determine that it was a woman wearing a veil.

“I was starting to think you wouldn’t show,” the ghostly figure said.

Will blinked rapidly, then hardened his jaw. Phoebe. “What are you doing here?”

She threw back the veil and grinned. “I fooled you, didn’t I?”

“Only until you opened your mouth.”

She shrugged, unconcerned. “Then I won’t speak.”

“Don’t think for even a moment that you can come inside,” he growled.

Phoebe drew closer and Will couldn’t stop his eyes from tracking down her figure. She wore a dark sapphire gown with a bodice that was surprisingly low cut. He made sure to immediately look back at her face.

“It’s Freddie’s,” she explained unprompted. “And the veil is from a dress-up box I found in the attic.”

Will raised his eyebrow. “You kept a mourning veil in your dress-up box?” Phoebe began to answer, but he shook his head. “Never mind. Of course you did,” he muttered.

“All right. Let’s go then,” she said briskly and charged forward, but Will grabbed her arm.

“I don’t think you understand what goes on in there.”

As she turned to him, her eyes caught in the glow of the gaslight, giving her an otherworldly look. “You needn’t condescend to me, Margrave.” She lifted her chin. “I assure you, I do.”

Will tugged her closer and watched her pupils grow larger as he leaned in. “If anyone realizes you’re there, you will be absolutely ruined. And not even I will be able to save you.”

Phoebe held his gaze. “Then we had better make sure they don’t,” she said before pulling the veil down over her face.

Will grumbled but dutifully donned the black domino mask he had brought with him. Then he noticed Phoebe staring at him. At least, he thought she was staring at him.

“What is it?”

She jolted a little at the question and shook her head. “Nothing. Shall we?”

Will tucked her arm against his side and led them to the town house. The place was tidy and well-kept but looked empty from the outside. All the windows were dark and no sounds could be heard. If this really was a house of debauchery, it was a remarkably discreet one. Will’s heart began to flutter as he used the front door’s heavy brass knocker.

“I’m sure I will absolutely regret telling you this,” he began while they waited. “But I’m glad you’re here.”

She turned to him as her hand tightened on his arm, but before she could respond, the door swung open. They were met by a positively hulking man with white hair that hung past his shoulders and a pair of rheumy blue eyes. He said nothing as he looked past them with a blank stare, waiting.

After a moment, Phoebe nudged Will and he cleared his throat. “Avec plaisir.”

The man immediately stepped back from the doorway and gestured for them to enter. Will shot Phoebe an apprehensive look even though he could barely make out her face through the heavy gauze, but they dutifully stepped inside. The man led them down a long, dark corridor lit by wall sconces every few feet toward the faintest sound of laughter and conversation.

From the outside it looked to be just another town house, but inside it was deceptively big. They made a sharp turn and proceeded down another hallway going deeper into the house. Will guessed it was actually three row houses combined. No wonder they hadn’t heard anything from the street. But the sounds grew progressively louder as they reached a heavy oak door. The old man stopped abruptly.

“Enjoy yer evening,” he said in a dull rasp before he turned around and proceeded back down the corridor, dragging his fingertips along the wall.

Will and Phoebe both watched his slow, steady retreat. A blind doorman seemed like a good way to guarantee anonymity.

He faced Phoebe. “Last chance to turn back.”

“Absolutely not.”

Then she pushed open the door and charged ahead. Will rolled his eyes and followed her into what appeared to be an antechamber but after a few steps, Phoebe halted to a dead stop. As Will came up behind her, he noticed a couple pressed against a wall by another door in the throes of a rather passionate embrace. The woman’s skirts were rucked up and the man had hooked her stocking-clad leg around his waist. Whatever else he was doing, she seemed to enjoy it.

“Come,” Will said softly as he took Phoebe by the elbow and guided her past the couple, who hadn’t noticed them.

The sounds of revelry were even louder now and he opened the door to a party in full swing.

An attractive young lady wearing a silver half mask flanked by two massive men greeted them at the door and asked for the fee.

Will paid the eyebrow-raising sum without reacting, but this club certainly wasn’t cheap.

Phoebe reached for his arm and gripped it tightly as he ushered them deeper inside. The room was larger than he expected with patterned wallpaper in a deep forest green and matching sofas in soft velvet. An opulent crystal chandelier hung from the ceiling and a large marble fireplace nearly took up an entire wall.

To his surprise, everyone in this room was fully clothed and simply socializing while masked waiters circulated with trays of champagne. One came up to them, but Will waved him away. He needed to be sharp tonight, especially with Phoebe here. Some of the guests also wore masks, but a number of others didn’t. They must be quite confident in the discretion of the other guests.

Will was just about to comment on this when an extremely inebriated man stumbled toward them, leering at Phoebe.

“And who have you brought?” He tried to swipe at her veil, but missed and nearly fell over. “Don’t be shy, love. We all share here.”

Will wrapped his arm around Phoebe’s waist and pulled her against his side. “Not her.”

The man pouted. “Well that’s not very sporting of you.” Then he let out a braying laugh that Will did not return. He gave a shrug. “Fine. You can’t hide forever though,” he added before toddling off to annoy someone else.

“Who was that?” Phoebe whispered.

“The Home Office’s undersecretary.”

She let out a huff. “Unbelievable.”

“Come.” Will took her hand and guided her along the edge of the room. He wanted to avoid any more encounters and only recognized a few other people, none whose attendance here was a surprise. When they reached the other side, he drew Phoebe into a dark corner and leaned over to speak by her ear.

“Did you see her?”

She shook her head. “This can’t be all there is.”

Will could hear the frustration in her voice. “I’m not sure how freely we can wander about.”

Phoebe ignored him and pointed to a door across from where they stood. “There.”

“I don’t think—” Will began just as she headed toward it. “Christ,” he muttered and joined her. As Phoebe tested the knob, he gave a quick look around the room to make sure no one was paying them any attention.

“It’s unlocked,” she said softly and pushed the door open.

Will held his breath and followed her.