Dukes By the Dozen

CHAPTER 6

THE PROBLEM with being the host of a house party was that one had to attend it. Most specifically, one had to attend to the guests.

Normally, this wasn’t something Jonathan was loath to do, but at most of his parties, he invited only his friends.

This was his mother’s party.

She’d invited her friends.

And so, as the festivities began, he stood in the receiving line and greeted Lord and Lady Jersey, Buckingham, George Ponsonby, and Charles Sutton as well as many other faces from the 5th Parliament. It occurred to him that this was very much like being at work. He was surprised when Lord Castlereagh arrived with rival George Canning—he had no idea why Mother had invited them both—she was probably hoping for a sensation which would, at the very least, make for interesting conversation.

When the Pickerings stepped up, with their stunning daughter Glorianna, his mother gave him a nudge with her elbow.

Apparently, this guest had been invited for him.

He bowed over her gloved hand and murmured a welcome. She went pale, then red. Her lips moved but no sound came out.

Her mother nearly had apoplexy. “She’s very pleased to meet you,” she insisted, to which Glorianna nodded.

Pickering chuckled. “A shy one, our girl,” he said, slapping Jonathan on the shoulder. “But very accomplished.”

“Very accomplished,” Lady Pickering agreed. “Wait until you hear her play the pianoforte.”

“Oh,” Jonathan said to his mother. “Is there to be a musicale?” There was hardly any chagrin in his tone. He deplored musicales.

“But of course,” Mother said. “Tomorrow afternoon at two sharp.”

Jonathan nodded. Excellent warning.

Glorianna moved on to greet his mother, and Lady Pickering leaned in and told him how much her daughter loved children and didn’t the duke have two girls?

After the Pickerings came the Mountbattens, and their lovely Louisa. She was pretty and young and certainly not tongue-tied. She loved living in London, she said. Adored dancing and painting and shopping. She also informed him she had an infatuation with hats. Especially hats with ribbons. Weren’t ribbons the most delightful things?

Naturally, he agreed.

But, truth be told, he was happy to move on to the Pecks.

Cicely Peck was beautiful too. His mother certainly hadn’t failed on that account. She also didn’t natter on about ribbons and hats, which was a mercy. She merely smiled at him warmly and said how pleased she was to make his acquaintance. It was a relief to not be fawned over.

Hisdick appeared next, looking slightly uncomfortable in his suit. He’d slicked back his fly-away hair and gone so far as to wear a cravat, which was saying something. Hisdick was never fond of things tied around his neck.

“Hallo,” Jonathan greeted him. “I’m so glad you came.” Hisdick rarely went out—anywhere. He preferred to be closeted somewhere in a dark room with his books and a candle, which was probably why Jonathan had thought of him for Meg. She loved books too.

“Thank you for the invitation.” Hisdick wobbled slightly from side to side, as though the floor were moving. But then, he’d always been more at home on a frigate. Before his appointment to the House of Commons, he’d been a seaman. He’d never been completely comfortable on dry land. “I must say, your home is quite grand.”

“Thank you.”

Hisdick leaned in. “Which one is she?” he asked, eyeing the groupings in the salon.

Something lodged in Jonathan’s throat. “Ahem. She?”

“The woman you mentioned in the letter?”

“Ah. Meg. She’s not come down yet.” Jonathan forced a smile, but it cost him. He needed to remember why this party was being thrown. It was for Meg. To meet a man. Gads, how the thought irked him.

And now, seeing Hisdick here, in this company, a horrifying prospect occurred to him. Surely he hadn’t invited his friend because he wasn’t a handsome, charming, wealthy lord? Because he was a little quirky and something less than a romantic figure? Surely he hadn’t chosen him in the hopes that he would be one fewer man Meg might fancy?

A lowering thought. And one that posed more questions than he was capable of entertaining at the moment.

Fortunately, he didn’t have to.

Hisdick’s gasp forestalled any ethical dilemma he might have been tempted to confront.

He turned and followed his friend’s gaze, and his lungs locked.

A woman stood at the top of the stairs. A vision in blue.

It took him a moment—longer than it should have—to realize it was Meg.

He hadn’t seen her like this, in a fancy dress with her hair done up, since her season. But even then, she hadn’t been so…magnificent. Her stance was regal, her expression serene. She looked like… Well hell, she looked like a duchess.

It poleaxed him.

He barely even noticed Christian and Susana—with a smug smile—on either side of her as she floated down the stairs. His heart thudded, his head went woozy. Something in his breeches tightened.

Good glory, she was exquisite.

Had he really invited men here for her?

What a fool.

Because it was only now that he realized the truth of it.

He wanted her for himself.