The Scoundrel Duke of her Heart by Violet Hamers

Chapter Twenty-One

Jenny closed her eyes for a moment before opening them again, cursing inwardly at their interruption. “I did not expect to see you and Her Grace here tonight,” Lady Heatherford said, catching up to them.

“Lucy,” he said and Jenny blinked. She knew they were friends but the way he called her by her Christian name provoked Jenny.

The woman turned to Jenny and smiled artfully. “Your Grace.”

“Lady Heatherford,” Jenny returned, slipping her hand from Nicholas’s and tightening her shawl about her shoulders.

“Why are you leaving so soon? I heard the show has just begun.”

“There is somewhere else we have to be,” Nicholas answered.

“I should let you be on your way, then.” She glanced at Jenny before giving Nicholas a foxy grin. “I hope to see you again soon, Nicholas.”

“Good night, Lucy,” he replied. Nicholas had said nothing to encourage her flirtations.

Yet, Jenny was jealous and annoyed. He took her arm and led her to the carriage where she sat in silence as they were conveyed home. Neither of them said a word to the other until they were in the house. Clearly, the mood had been ruined and any hope of being intimate with her husband had been squashed.

“We should call upon your grandmother in the morning,” she suggested in the foyer.

“Very well,” he agreed. “We shall do that after breakfast.”

When she crawled into bed, she wondered if anything would ever work in her favor.

* * *

The following morning saw them walking through the front hall of the dowager’s house. "She will receive you upstairs in her chamber," the butler announced, leading the way.

Jenny was surprised the dowager was receiving them in her chambers. Her condition must either be very serious or she was simply disregarding etiquette as she did on occasion. She was a rather unique woman, after all.

"Is it that bad?" Nicholas asked, speaking for the first time since they left their house. He had been quiet during breakfast, too.

“Her condition is rather peculiar,” the butler replied.

"Has the physician seen her?" Jenny asked.

“No, Your Grace.”

“Why not?” Nicholas asked, looking concerned. The duchess was something of a menace but neither of them wanted her ill or suffering.

“She refused to have one attend to her.” They arrived at her chambers. “Here we are.”

They walked into the adjoining living area to the sight of Ernest lounging on a sofa while the dowager’s lady’s maid was sectioning her blonde and silver hair with a comb and applying a thick green paste to her locks.

"Ah." Ernest gained his feet upon their entry. "Just the person I was hoping to see today." He bowed before Jenny and placed a gallant kiss on her knuckles.

"To what do I owe the honor?" Jenny asked, looking around the room and believing that last night had been planned by the dowager. She was as healthy as a horse.

"A message.” Ernest’s voice drew her attention back to the present. “There is something I have been asked to hand to you personally." He punctuated his statement with a sly smile in Nicholas's direction.

Although he was clearly curious, he feigned disinterest and turned to regard his grandmother who was seated on an ottoman. "You're supposed to be sick,” he said to her.

"Clearly not sick enough,” the woman replied in a bored tone, directing her lady’s maid to slather some more green paste onto her hair.

"I shall come at your most convenient time to deliver the message, Jenny." Ernest raised his voice to draw back his already miffed cousin's attention.

Nicholas's sharp gaze shifted, then narrowed but he did not utter a word. Jenny could almost see his curiosity and pride warring with each other. She allowed herself an inward little smile.

"You may visit any time, Ernest. Although, I must ask. Who is the message from?”

“I will tell you when I call.”

"Not there, you fool!" the dowager snapped at the lady’s maid. "Just leave. We can finish this later. Leave."

"Er…I think I will be leaving, too," Ernest announced before slithering out of the room, giving his grandmother no chance to stop him.

The maid bobbed a quick curtsy to Nicholas and Jenny on her way out. "Duchess," Jenny sat in a chair opposite her the dowager, "is that the Indian—"

"Hair dye?" she finished for her. "Yes. Monsieur Raphael sent it yesterday along with those orchids over there." She pointed at the orchids on a table near one of the windows.

"I thought as much." Jenny chuckled, plucking the bowl containing the green paste and sniffing it. It was neither pleasant nor unpleasant. "It surprisingly smells like a combination of herbs. I thought it would possess a putrid odor because of the color."

"Do I look like I would apply something that smells putrid to my hair?" the dowager asked.

"I don't know...one can do almost anything to turn back the hands of the clock." This came from Nicholas. He was sitting in a chair with the ankle of one leg atop the knee of the other. "If only it were that easy,” he finished smugly.

A snort almost escaped Jenny. No one was bold enough to give the dowager such a cutting remark. “What color will this turn your hair?” Jenny asked.

“Red,” she replied with a satisfied smile. “I, too, shall possess flaming hair.”

Nicholas looked equal parts curious, amused, and cautious now. "Should I be worried about your newfound friendship?" The question was directed at both of them.

"That depends..." his grandmother responded, her tone sly and her smile secretive.

“And who is this Monsieur Raphael?” Nicholas asked.

Jenny told him the tale and he laughed at his grandmother.

“You are seeking to regain your youth based on the compliments of a dandy?”

“Be quiet, boy.” She wrapped her head in a dark shawl and rearranged her skirts about her. The dowager shifting the subject from herself told Jenny she didn't wish to be the object of dissection and amusement.

“Now that the two of you are here, I wish to propose something to you.”

“What is it?” Nicholas asked.

“Do you have plans of hosting a ball as duke and duchess? You are obligated to before the season ends.”

“What would be the purpose of this ball and why must we hold it before the season ends?” Nicholas asked, exchanging a look with Jenny.

“Turn your nose up at it if you like. Jenny knows the importance of hosting a ball. It will be of great benefit to your career.”

“You are saying that a ball will elevate my esteem in the House of Lords?”

“You have been away from England for a long time. You would be surprised at the changes that have occurred,” she said.

Jenny decided to intervene by placing her hand on his arm. “Nicholas, having a ball would be nice.”

He gave Jenny a nod. “We shall have a ball then.”

“I will suggest—”

Nicholas raised a finger. “No, Grandmother. I think Jenny and I will organize the ball by ourselves.”

“I know the intricate details involved in these sorts of things. You will need my advice.”

Again, Jenny had to intervene. “We will consult you on some of the matters.”

“I hope you understand how fortunate you are to have a wife like her,” the dowager said to Nicholas. It was a compliment to Jenny and she smiled.

Regarding Nicholas being fortunate…their life was not going as she had imagined. She did not think she was fortunate to be married to him and she did not think he felt fortunate to be married to her either.

The dowager picked up a small gilded mirror and assessed her wrapped hair in it, turning her head at different angles for a better view. "Raphael said it is supposed to turn red after a short while."

“Then perhaps it is time to find out,” Jenny said.