The Duke’s Borrowed Family (Daughters of the Ton #6)

Chapter 1

Julian took a deep breath. The cool London air filled his lungs, and an unpleasant mixture of dust, soot, and something he would rather not identify penetrated his nostrils.

“Your Grace,” a voice came from behind him just as he placed his hand on the banister.

He looked back. A woman of about fifty years approached him.

She was wearing a Pomona green gown and a matching turban, a style popular amongst her age group.

Behind her were two younger women, one in a mauve color and the other in an evening primrose.

Their hair was styled elaborately with sashes and gemstones that sparkled under the lamplight as they approached.

“What a pleasure to see you. I did not know you were back in London.”

“I am, indeed,” he said. Under his breath, he added, “Unfortunately.”

“These are my daughters. Miss Catherine and Miss Elizabeth.” The two young women curtsied to him, and he bowed his head once, slightly.

“A pleasure.”

“Are you dancing tonight?” the older woman, who had still not introduced herself, pressed further.

“I have not decided yet. I took a tumble off my horse just yesterday, and my ankle is somewhat sore. I shall have to see how it bears up.”

This was, of course, a blatant lie. He had not been riding since before Christmas, and now, it was March.

He simply didn’t want to commit himself.

If he told this lady that he was going to dance, she would push for him to commit to a dance with each of her daughters, and soon enough, somebody would overhear that, and then he would be tied into dancing all night long.

What an odious obligation that would be.

Dancing, he knew, often led to a courtship, and a courtship was not something he wanted right now. He was not on the catch. Not anymore.

“Oh,” the woman said, her smile fading. “What a shame.”

“I promise that if I do decide to dance, I shall seek you out,” he said.

The smile reappeared. “Why, thank you. You have always been so gracious. And I am so glad that a man of your standing is back in London. Not to besmirch my dear Lord Tinkersley’s good name, but we desperately need some more young blood in the House of Lords.

My husband has much vigor, but he is getting on in years. ”

Tinkersley. That’s who she was. Lady Tinkersley, wife of Lord Tinkersley.

He knew her husband. He was a rather low-ranking baron but bang up to the mark when it came to the things he believed in.

Julian respected the man. He had a forceful voice and knew what he wanted.

And so, it seemed, did his wife although what she wanted was to find a good husband for her daughters—and he was not in the market for that.

He could see quite plainly that she was cutting a wheedle, and he would not fall for it.

“If you will excuse me, my friends are awaiting me.”

“Of course. The Langley husbands. I have heard that they are all here tonight.”

“And here they are,” he said and turned.

He rushed inside, greeted Lady Sandingham, tonight’s hostess, and then made his way into the ballroom.

He glanced across the broad ballroom and saw several of his friends’ wives dispersed around the space, talking and mingling with their friends. He didn’t see any of their husbands.

“Excuse me,” he said to a passing servant. “If a gentleman wanted to find the card room, where would he do that?”

“Oh,” the servant replied, “it is just down the hall on the left. Third room.”

Julian nodded and made his way there. The room had been thoroughly taken over by his friends.

Nathaniel Sinclair, his oldest friend, leaned against the windowsill, a glass of sherry in hand.

Rhys and Lucian had occupied the two chairs by the fire, and Gideon and James were engaged in some sort of card game.

“Julian!” Nathaniel said and set down his glass with a thud. “There you are. I thought you would never join us.” The two friends embraced, and Nathaniel clapped him on the back with enthusiastic vigor.

“I did not have much choice. I recall your words this morning. Did you not threaten to grab me by the ankle and drag me down the streets of London by force if I didn’t materialize?”

“Did I say that? I am rather grumpy in the morning. Evelyn tells me that all the time.”

“And she wouldn’t be wrong,” he replied.

“In any case, you are here. Drink?” He walked Julian over to the sideboard and poured him a glass.

“He got me here with similar threats,” Gideon said with a smile.

“And me,” Rhys replied.

“Now, now,” Nathaniel said and shook his head. “Is the truth not more that we are all here because our wives required us to be?”

“Indeed,” James confirmed. “At the end of the day, all of us will do whatever our wives tell us, and one day, Julian, you will too.”

“I doubt that,” he said. “Upon my honor, I shall see pigs fly through the streets of London before I am married.”

“Now, now, old chum,” Nathaniel said and handed him a glass. “You were once not so far from the altar yourself. There is no reason to think that it would not happen again.”

“Pray, stop saying such things. You are depressing me,” Julian replied, and drank down his beverage in three swallows. It went down his throat and warmed his chest, and he savored it for a moment.

“Shall we return to the ballroom?” Gideon suggested. “I do have a mind to dance with my wife. This is, after all, the sort of ball where such a thing is not frowned upon.”

“Indeed,” Nathaniel said. “That is one of the reasons I am here. I always enjoy dancing with Evelyn in public. And you, Julian? We will find you someone to dance with yet.”

“To dance with, perhaps,” Julian said. “Although I have already attempted to evade one lady who was trying to force me onto her daughters’ dance cards. I feigned an injured ankle, and I should perhaps stick with that.”

Lucian said, “If you like, I will be glad to kick you in the ankle, so you will hobble properly, and it will not be a lie anymore.”

“With friends like Lucian, I shall not need any enemies.”

Laughter filled the room, and then the six of them made their way to the ballroom.

In short order, four of his friends had paired with their wives and stood on the dance floor, waiting for the next dance.

Julian stood with Nathaniel because Evelyn, Nathaniel’s wife, was still deep in conversation with a lady he did not recognize.

She looked quite done up, he thought, whoever she was.

As the music started, the couples made their way onto the dance floor.

“You cannot tell me that you truly have no desire to ever walk down the aisle again,” Nathaniel said, more serious this time.

“I truly am telling you that. I have no desire. Being humiliated once was enough.”

“I would not call it humiliation,” Nathaniel started, but Julian raised his hand and shook his head. He had indeed felt thoroughly humiliated.

Once, not quite so long ago, he had been excited about the prospect of marriage. In fact, he had proposed. He had planned a wedding, only to find out that his beloved had aimed higher and taken off with a duke’s son instead.

That union had quickly fallen apart, and she had come crawling back to him.

He’d had the momentary satisfaction of sending her away, but it hadn’t soothed his anger much at all, nor had it helped his desire to join his friends in matrimony.

She had made a cake of herself in the end, and yet somehow, he was the one still living with the consequences.

“Does it not bother you that you are the only one not married?”

“No,” Julian said. “What bothers me is that, once upon a time, you and I took a vow that we would not fall into the trap of marriage. And here you are: married with children.”

“Indeed. I must say, I am grateful that you were not present for my courtship with Evelyn because had you not been gallivanting across the continent at the time, you would have tried to prevent my marriage to her, and I would have been most miserable.”

Julian sighed. It was true. He had been in Europe when his friend had unexpectedly become not only a duke but also a husband.

In fact, by the time he had made it back across to British shores, Nathaniel and Evelyn’s first child had been on the way.

It wasn’t that he disliked Evelyn. In fact, he liked her quite a lot.

However, he could never quite wrap his head around the idea that his dearest friend was now married.

Not only him, but all the friends he had made by way of their friendship.

All of them married now, all of them fathers.

He shook his head when someone caught his eye. A young woman was approaching from the direction of the ballroom’s double doors. He tipped his head to one side. There was something familiar about her, but he couldn’t quite place her.

“Who is that?”

Nathaniel looked at him, eyebrows raised. “You do not know her?”

“No.”

“You jest. You are well acquainted.”

“Are we?” he asked.

“Clara Hampshire.”

His jaw dropped. Clara? Now that she was closer, there was no denying it.

It was indeed none other than Lady Clara Hampshire.

Lady Clara and his cousin, Lady Arabella, had been close friends for a number of years, and he had, on occasion, met Lady Clara at family events due to this friendship.

However, the Lady Clara he had known had looked somewhat different.

Clara had always been outspoken and somewhat wild.

Her choice of attire was often not exactly what was fashionable but rather what she liked.

Her hairstyle was the same. And she always carried herself in a way that suggested she did not care much about the world but rather that the world ought to care about her.

The young woman coming his way now didn’t have those wild tendencies.

She was elegant. She was, he had to admit, quite beautiful.

She walked with her head high but still with those walls all around her that she had built to keep away the people who came too close.

There was a stoicism about her that he had never known in Clara when she was younger.

She was not Friday-faced, exactly, but there was a gravity to her that had not been there before.

“I have not seen her in a very long time.”

“You wouldn’t have,” Nathaniel said. “She has been away in Scotland for almost a year, ever since that humiliating situation with her fiancé.”

He narrowed his eyes. He had heard something about this from Arabella, back before Arabella’s own life had taken an unexpected and shocking turn.

“Did he not leave her for a woman of more elevated standing?”

“He did. And mere days before the wedding, too. Terrible. She took herself off to Scotland and has only just returned. I am surprised that you did not know, since I believe Arabella and she are close. At least, that is what Helena said.”

Helena, Gideon’s wife, was one of Lady Clara’s best friends—her other best friend besides Arabella. His cousin, Arabella, and Helena had never been terribly close due to a slight difference in age and upbringing, but he had heard of Helena by way of Arabella. It was an intricate web.

“Perhaps you ought to dance with her,” Nathaniel suggested. “I am sure she would be grateful.”

“No,” Julian said but without taking his eyes off the young woman. Just then he saw Helena stop mid-dance and rush away, leaving a rather perplexed Gideon to stand alone on the dance floor.

She rushed to Lady Clara and pulled her into a tight embrace.

From the dance floor, Gideon attempted to make his way to solid ground, navigating between dancing couples while the two young women embraced and walked out of the frame.

Lady Clara Hampshire.

He hadn’t thought of her in so long, and yet now that he had seen her once more, he had a difficult time taking his eyes off her.