Only a Lady Will Do by Tamara Gill
Chapter 8
The opera was full, everyone eager to attend the Season's first performance featuring the famous Angelica Catalani. As the cast performed Mozart's Le Nozze di Figaro, the performance captured Iris under its magical spell. She appeared oblivious to everyone in the theater but the people on stage. Her eyes were bright and riveted to the performance,her bottom lip held tight between her straight teeth.
The image distracted Josh, and he doubted he had heard one second of the entertainment playing out before them.
The ton present who did not yet know of his mother's guest surveyed their box, curious about who the lady was and what she was doing with Penworth and his mother. They did not voice their curiosity, but their eyes certainly told a different story.
Josh watched those in attendance, strikingly aware that he had never had any lady sit within these curtained walls who were not his sisters over the past years.
He hoped the statement did not give the impression that Miss Cooper was a potential bride for himself, but he did live in the hope that other gentlemen would be curious as to who she was and make themselves known.
His sister Isolde sat beside him, her husband the duke to her right, who was engrossed in the performance just as Miss Cooper was.
Josh did not care a fig for the opera. He had heard it before. But the woman beside him had captured his attention from the first moment he had seen her this evening.
The vision of her had just about knocked his legs out from beneath him upon seeing her in the foyer of his home.
His breath had lodged in his lungs, and words for a moment or two were impossible to form. He knew she was pretty, but tonight it went beyond that benign word.
She was stunningly beautiful, an allure he had not expected to see blossom from her person. The gown of sheer silk gauze was distracting enough, but also the jewels that he knew were from his mother's private collection. The light-colored emerald that hung about her neck, dipping to the sweet crevice between her breasts, had captivated him. He had dipped into a bow to try to hide his interest, but it was no use. He could not stop admiring her person.
Tonight she looked like a duchess, and the realization gave him pause.
Blast it all to hell. She interested him. And she should not. Not at all. As beautiful as she was, she was neither titled, dowered, nor could she bring connections as lofty as his own.
He wanted a wife of beauty, intelligence, fortune, and breeding. And while Miss Cooper did have those in small articles, it was not enough. He was the Duke of Penworth. He had high standards to satisfy, especially after his parents, who had ruled London for several years.
He could not marry the penniless daughter of a vicar from Cornwall, no matter how shiny she buffed to when dressed up.
You are such an ass, his mind rebeled, taunting him with the truth.
"Miss Cooper is delightful, is she not? When I first met her earlier today, I had no notion that a beautiful swan was hiding under all those ruffled feathers. Did you?" Isolde asked him, staring at him directly. His sister was never one to beat around the bush when she wanted to know something.
"She is most agreeable. I would think that a suiter will make himself known by tomorrow at home with Mother. Will you attend? Help me in choosing a suitable husband for our mother's sponsor. I do wish to make it right."
"Moore told me as to why. I hope you do not mind," she added, patting his hand that tapped on his knee. A tick he had not known he was doing. "I agree with Moore, what happened to Iris is not your fault, but I commend you on helping her, making right what you can. If this brings you peace, then I support you in that decision."
But did it bring him peace? Not really. Something told him he would forever feel guilty in the knowledge of his part of her accident. Until Miss Cooper knew the truth, how could he ever feel easy over the outcome she faced?
Even if he brought to her a most-sought-after gentleman, perfect for her kind heart, it would not change the fact she did not know the truth. She had not had the opportunity to decide who she thought deserved forgiveness or not.
"I will do what I can to make her future a little brighter than it was looking before she departed Cornwall."
"And you, brother. What of your future? I see Lady Sophie Hammilyn is here this evening. And if you have not noticed, she is quite taken with our box."
His sister inclined her head toward a box on the other side of the theater. Lady Sophie studied them without guile, her interest in their box obvious to any who noted it. "I spent some time last year at Lady Sophie's estate, and while she has been bestowed with beauty and a handsome dowry, she is a little curt and lacking in poise that I think is required in a duchess."
His sister chuckled but covered her slip with her hand. "Really, brother. Did she lack poise? Most of your sisters suffer from that very lack of tact as well. I did not think you would mind so very much that your wife would also."
It was not only poise. He clenched his jaw. "She could be quite cutting toward people too. While I do wish for my wife to have a strong constitution—God save her, she will need one being a duchess—I do not want her to be cruel to people less fortunate than she is. I feel Lady Sophie will do and say all that will gain her a ducal coronet, but not act so worthy of the title once the tiara is atop her head."
"Well, she seems quite determined. I would guess that she will visit our box this evening."
Josh cringed, hoping that wasn't the case. His interactions with the lady were awkward at best, especially since he was so keen when he first met her but was soon turned off when he gained a little insight into her personality.
"Victoria did not like her, to be blunt," he stated, not wanting to discuss Lady Sophie when he could continue admiring Miss Cooper. "In this case, I must agree with Victoria as to her feelings about the lady."
Isolde looked back at the stage, listening to the opera a moment. "I think Victoria would like Miss Cooper, just as I do."
He turned, studying his sister. What did she mean by that? Not that he did not know, he knew perfectly well that his sister was hinting at the fact that Miss Cooper would do very well as his duchess.
Josh ignored her and refused to reply to her statement. He turned back to watch the performance and caught Miss Cooper leaning over to say something to his mama.
She had the loveliest neck, her profile accentuating her full lips. He swallowed.
Hard.
She was not for him. She was a family friend, a woman in need of support after her many trials. The last thing she required was a duke breathing down her neck, teasing her into a liaison that would go nowhere.
The idea of bedding her, of kissing her swan neck, of pulling down her mint gown and exposing her abundance of cleavage for his hungry lips made his cock stir.
He tore his gaze away, summoned a footman, and ordered champagne, anything to distract him from the diversion that was Miss Cooper at his side.
Intermission came too soon, and within minutes of the break in the performance, the Penworth box was inundated with callers. All wishing the duke and his family a pleasant evening, asking what they thought of Angelica Catalani. Some of the ladies cast curious glances at Iris, but few took the time to speak to her.
Unfortunately, all her friends she had made her debut with were not in London this Season. She supposed they were married now, busy with their own lives and the many children they would have had—no need to attend London every year when one was so happily situated at their country estates.
A young woman entered the box with her father, making their way over to the duke without delay. She was all elegance and beauty and oozed confidence. Out the corner of her eye, Iris watched the woman's course, her fixation on the duke evident to not only herself.
"Lady Sophie, how lovely to see you again. Lord Hammilyn," the dowager duchess said. Lady Sophie dipped into a deep curtsy, demure and everything a good lady of breeding would do when before two ducal families.
"Your Graces," she said to both the duke and his sister. Her gaze moved across them all and stopped on Iris. The warmth she had felt in her gaze a moment before turned chill when her eyes settled on Iris.
Iris lifted her chin and waited for an introduction. A woman from Cornwall was strong of character. She would never look down to criticism, no matter how much Iris may wish to.
"This is my good friend's daughter, Miss Iris Cooper. She's staying with me this Season. Iris, this is Lady Sophie Hammilyn and her father, Earl Hammilyn," the dowager duchess said, introducing them.
Iris curtsied, thankful her hip did not protest the action after so much sitting. "It is very nice to meet you, Lord Hammilyn, Lady Sophie." She smiled, but the lady's fixed smile held little friendship. It seemed they were not destined to be friends. "How are you enjoying the opera so far? I must state that it has been a highlight of the Season so far," Iris said, trying to fill the void of silence.
Lady Sophie moved over toward her, taking her arm and pulling them a little away from everyone else. Iris went with her, unsure what was happening. "I enjoy it well enough, but it is nothing to a ball or musical evening with friends. Are you attending Lord McCalter's ball at midnight? There are to be fireworks, or so a friend of mine said earlier today at the modiste."
Iris smiled, unable not to at the thought of such entertainment. "We will be attending. I have never seen fireworks, but how marvelous I shall tonight."
"Hmm, yes, dear. And is the duke also accompanying you?" Lady Sophie asked, glancing over her shoulder.
Iris did also and found the duke watching them. "I am uncertain if His Grace is attending." Which was the truth. His Grace had not stated either way, to her at least.
Lady Sophie waved a footman over and took two glasses of Madeira, handing her one. "Well, no mind if he does not, you shall be there, and I'm certain we're to be great friends. Like you, I too am not the youngest debutante treading the boards this year. I spent several years in Spain living with my brother before returning home to do the pretty for my parents. They wish for me to marry, and so like you, I too am here to find a husband. But are they not the hardest objects to find?" she teased, laughing up at the duke who was now in conversation with Lord Hammilyn. "They do seem elusive. At least, I have had no luck so far, but the Season is young. I'm sure we shall both secure admirers at some point."
"I'm sure you are right," Iris agreed.
Lady Sophie sipped her Madeira, watching the duke over the rim of her glass. An uncomfortable, annoyed feeling settled in Iris's stomach at her fixation on the duke. Did Lady Sophie want the duke for herself? The thought of a union between them should not disassemble her so much, yet the churning in the pit of her stomach told her otherwise.
"Do you know the Worthingham's well?" Iris asked, her curiosity getting the better of her.
"We spent time together last year at my parents’ home in Hampshire. I do not mind in telling you, since we are already friends, that I had thought the duke would propose. But he did state that he wished for me to have a Season. So, here I am, having a Season and waiting with bated breath as to when he may call."
So they were all but engaged!
Iris studied Lady Sophie, unable to believe such a tale. The duke, from her limited knowledge of him, was honorable and kind. He would not lead any lady with the belief of a union. What was Lady Sophie trying to do by telling her such a story?
"I wish you well in your endeavors," she said, sipping her drink. "But surely the duke is not the only peer in London who has caught your attention. You're a beautiful woman. I'm sure many men are chasing you all over London."
Lady Sophie released a tinkling laugh, and ice shivered down her spine. What was it about this lady that she distrusted? She did not know her at all, yet she would guard her words and actions when around Lady Sophie. She did not want to make an enemy of her. That would be the worst outcome of her time in London. But nor would she be a close confidant either.
"There are, of course, but none of them are dukes." Lady Sophie grinned just as a footman announced the opera was about to restart. "I will see you at the ball, Miss Cooper. We shall continue our association there."
Iris nodded, a smile wedged on her lips, one even she could feel was not genuine. She hoped Lady Sophie could not tell. "I look forward to it," she called after her, not the least excited about the prospect.
