Curves for the Scandalous Duke (Busty Bodice Club #6)

Chapter 1

Chapter One

Lady Josephine Harrington paced back and forth across the rug. She paused, glanced down at the paper in her hand, shook her head and crossed the room once more.

You must retrieve a family heirloom, one that is dear to me, lost in a game of cards. The peacock brooch is in the possession of the Duke of Lavisham and must be retrieved.

“Josephine, I beg you, stop pacing. You’ll wear a hole in the rug.

” Lady Willa Hatter, her dearest friend, sat on the bed with an expectant look.

“So you must retrieve a family heirloom. That part seems straightforward enough. Easier, I think, in fact than some of the other tasks assigned to your sisters. Paint a duke? Good lord, what if you hadn’t any artistic talent? ”

“The heirloom in question is a peacock brooch, which according to this”—she held up the note from her father—“was lost in a game of cards.” Josephine tapped a finger against her bottom lip.

“A peacock brooch?” Willa’s brow wrinkled.

“An ugly one.” Josephine had no idea why the brooch was considered an important part of the Harrington family history, only that it had once belonged to her grandmother.

“My grandmother is wearing the peacock brooch in the portrait of her that hangs in the gallery at Fenmere Park. Quite hideous. The brooch, not Grandmama.”

The portrait artist had not been terribly skilled, which was glaringly apparent from the painting.

Nor had the jeweler responsible for the brooch.

The peacock attached to Grandmama’s shoulder could just as easily have been a worm.

Or an ugly cat. The peacock’s tail feathers, spread out in an arc, were the only indication the brooch might be a bird of some sort.

Diamonds and sapphires decorated the tail and the crown of the peacock’s head.

Valuable to be sure, given the gemstones, but overall, the peacock brooch was an unremarkable bauble.

Josephine had never actually seen it in person and thus could only surmise what it looked like from the painting.

“I was hoping for a ruby ring. Possibly a sword studded with jewels.” Josephine sighed. “Wouldn’t that have been exciting?”

“I suppose?” Willa gave her an amused look.

“Perhaps a tiara or even a wedding dress from the time of Henry Tudor.” There was a painting of one of the Harrington ancestors in just such an exquisite creation hanging beside Grandmama’s portrait.

“A wedding gown? Why? You’ve no interest in marriage,” Willa reminded her.

Josephine shrugged, knowing her prospects were dim.

She was…too big. Too buxom. Unwieldy, according to one of her dance partners at a ball earlier in the Season.

The gentleman in question, a Mr. Keys, was a great deal shorter than Josephine and had been an unsatisfactory dancing partner.

He’d stepped on her toes a half dozen times during their brief acquaintance.

If that was the future she had to look forward to, Josephine would take her inheritance and travel to St. Petersburg, perhaps. The Russians were tall.

“My task is nothing terribly consequential. I won’t be starting a charity, nor have I been asked to travel abroad, which, frankly, I would have preferred.

Instead, I am to retrieve a poorly made brooch.

Terribly uninspiring. I’ve no idea why my father would request such a thing from me.

” She stopped before Willa, contemplating how best to word the remainder of her task.

“’I didn’t even know the brooch was missing. Nor, I venture, did anyone else.”

“It does make me wonder why, if the brooch was so important to your family, would anyone wager it in a game of cards?”

“An important question, Willa. Unfortunately, my father did not see fit to give me such information.”

“Possibly that part is less important than we imagine.” She clasped her hands. “Did he give you any indication of who won the brooch? Or where it might now be? I’m not sure how you are to retrieve the brooch if you don’t know —”

“Lavisham,” Josephine said. “The Duke of Lavisham.”

“Lustful Lavisham?” Willa’s eyes widened. “You’re joking.”

“I wish this was a jest. That is the one bit of information contained here.” She waved her father’s note about. “Lavisham is in possession of the brooch. Or at least, he was when Father wrote down his request.”

“Lavisham.” Willa repeated. “The scandal-plagued duke with a penchant for gambling and sordid behavior.” She placed a hand to her throat.

“Calm yourself. Good lord, you’re about to tumble off the bed in your excitement. I’ll need your help, of course.”

“Absolutely.” Willa repositioned herself atop the coverlet, her tiny, rounded form a ball of silk and lace. She looked like a tiny kitten.

Josephine tried not to be envious. Her friend’s bosom was generous, but Willa was otherwise petite and delicate.

Soft in appearance. Everything Josephine was not.

Buxom of figure and tall for a woman, Josephine often felt like a giantess in comparison.

Her father had often called Josephine his warrior.

His strong, capable girl. She and her sisters had lived an isolated existence for years at Fenmere Park, where she didn’t feel awkward, but here in London…

Now, after years of coddling by their overprotective father, Josephine and her sisters had been thrust into the world. Instructed to embrace their uniqueness and live boldly.

“You cannot simply approach a gentleman of Lavisham’s reputation out of the blue,” Willa reasoned. “Your reputation would be questioned. He’s considered…inappropriate in some circles.”

“Indeed. I can’t imagine my father would have even wanted me speaking to Lavisham, let alone retrieving a brooch from him.”

The Duke of Lavisham had a tattered reputation for a duke.

He was notable for his size, which dwarfed every other gentleman in London by at least a head, as well as his ability to invite gossip at every turn.

The duke had once raced a horse in the altogether after losing a wager to his mistress at the time, a French comtesse.

The gossips had spoken of little else for months.

He had seduced a widow at the funeral of her recently dead husband.

Lost five hundred pounds in a single night playing hazard and laughed it off.

Lavisham’s unapologetic lifestyle would be enough to draw attention, but he was also blindingly attractive.

Chiseled jaw. Broad shoulders. A glorious mane of golden hair which had him shining like some oversized guinea when he rode through Hyde Park.

His only imperfection was the slight knot in his nose, which he’d broken, the gossips claimed, in an argument over a courtesan.

Women swooned at the sight of Lavisham.

Josephine’s own heart had skipped a beat at seeing him for the first time, atop a horse in the park. Hard not to be impressed with all that…magnificence.

“You’ll need an introduction.” Willa nodded. “I can ask my mother, of course. She knows everyone, though she disapproves of you.” Her nose wrinkled. “And the duke.”

“Goodness. Still? Because of Monsieur Pépé?” Josephine eyed her friend.

“You forget that he was also Isaiah’s fencing instructor.”

Isaiah was Willa’s brother.

“Monsieur Pépé was most distressed over the incident,” Willa said. “I tried to tell you fencing was not…a skill you should acquire given your…exuberance. As you can imagine, Mother was less than pleased as she holds him in high esteem.”

“How unfortunate.”

Willa had tried to talk Josephine out of fencing lessons, but in her pursuit of becoming capable and given her natural athletic ability, she’d ignored her friend’s advice.

The lessons, of which Josephine had received only one, had come to an abrupt halt when she had uttered, ‘en garde’, and promptly caught a heel in her skirts.

Her weapon had slashed through the air as she’d attempted to steady herself, nearly decapitating Monsieur Pépé.

“But…” Willa sat up straighter. “I have met Lavisham several times.”

“You have?” This was a stroke of good luck.

“Yes, but we didn’t really speak outside of pleasantries.

I’m not even sure he’d recall me. Our interactions were brief, though I suppose it is worth a try.

Mother will wonder why you want an introduction to Lavisham, which could be problematic.

Could you…send him a note, perhaps? Explain the circumstances of your father’s request? ”

“I have. Two, actually.” Lady Brighton, Willa’s mother, would certainly not have approved.

Willa’s eyes widened. “Oh. How bold of you.”

“Not bold at all. I merely explained to Lavisham in my note that I must speak to him on a matter of great urgency and sought a meeting in the park. The bench closest to the Serpentine beneath the maple tree.”

Josephine failed to add that she hadn’t signed either note, terrified that her correspondence with one of London’s most questionable gentlemen might be discovered.

Instead, she’d sprayed a bit of her favorite scent on the page, hoping Lavisham would be intrigued enough to respond. He was a rogue, after all.

“He ignored both requests for a meeting,” Josephine admitted. “I waited on the bench for hours.”

Her friend nodded. “Have you considered that perhaps he no longer has the brooch? There is a good chance he’s sold it or given it to a…lady friend.”

“Much too ugly. No woman alive would wear such a piece,” Josephine said with certainty.

“And even if Lavisham has rid himself of the brooch, he could tell me where it is now. He is my only hope in receiving my inheritance and I will not be the only Harrington to fail. Can you find out what events Lavisham will be attending in the next week?” Josephine asked.

Willa and her family were extremely well-connected. Her parents were invited everywhere.

“Of course I can. Lady Randall is having a garden party next week, and I’m positive Lavisham will be there.

He and Lady Randall were once…close acquaintances, according to my mother.

I’ll insist you accompany me.” Willa nodded in agreement.

“I will make the introduction. We won’t even involve Mother.

A trifle forward of me, but as I said, I’ve met Lavisham before. ”

“Perfect.” Josephine sat beside her friend and took Willa’s hand. “With your help, the matter will be resolved in no time, and I’ll soon have the brooch.”