Chapter 2
CHAPTER TWO
May fled from the room with cheeks aflame and the duke’s shameless offer ringing in her ears. It was as if she stumbled onto a stage amid a play, bluffing her way through the part without knowing any lines, yet somehow escaping discovery…
The duke had called her a lady.
Despite his spectacles, His Grace was clearly as blind as a bat.
He was something else—handsome and brazen, addressing her so nobly one moment and asking her to compromise herself the very next.
How preposterous. She did not have much, but she did have her reputation.
Although would it be so terribly bad to make use of His Grace’s deep pockets?
No.
This was no subject to consider now, surrounded by revelers, with the party still going strong and Lady Justina left to her own devices.
May would think of it on the morrow. Until then, May had to compose herself, so that when she found her friend, she wouldn’t have to explain why she was red-faced and absent-minded or had put herself in danger by talking back to a duke who set her imagination aflame.
Alas, she needn’t have worried about that.
By morning, the masked encounter with the duke seemed like a hazy dream.
The first tendrils of light reached through the window and spilled into the guest bedroom of Lady Justina’s London townhouse.
May stood next to Justina as they stared at the unconscious stranger Justina had brought home last night.
A feat that was only possible with May’s help, mind.
Late last night—or, perhaps, she ought to say, morning, after hours of searching through hundreds of guests—she’d found her mistress in damaged clothing, propping up a battered-looking, curly-haired man and demanding May help stow him away in their carriage.
As he lay in the bed in front of them, May turned to her friend, who still offered no explanation.
“He looks vaguely familiar, somehow… What is his name?”
Justina suddenly turned to adjust a perfectly satisfactory vase full of flowers on a table and gave no answer for far too long.
“Please tell me you know his name!” May gasped. “You wouldn’t bring a complete stranger home, would you?”
Justina’s answer came so quietly it could barely be heard at all. “I couldn’t just leave him there, hurt, when fate has struck.”
Fate? May desperately massaged her temples.
A servant’s place was not to judge or insert herself into her employer’s business, but a true friend would never let such a thing stop her from pointing out the reality of the situation.
“I know you are in a rush to find a suitor, but to bring home a strange, wounded man as if he is a stray dog and call it fate… Why should he prove any better than the four whose proposals you rejected in the last two seasons?”
Justina looked at her as if she was weighing just how much she could divulge.
“You’re going to think I’m insane.”
“Going to?”
If it was anyone’s fault that May found herself talking back to a duke last night, it was Justina’s, who demanded May to be a true friend and treat her like an equal. Although, Justina certainly looked like she was regretting that decision this very moment.
“Lord, May, a fortune teller predicted I would meet my future husband, all right?”
May’s breath caught. “A fortune teller told you this? Yesterday, at the ball?”
“Yes! Oh, he’s stirring. May, send for the doctor, please!”
The concern on Justina’s face spurred May to action. She fetched the doctor herself before retreating to her own room to change and wondering if she’d missed her opportunity to disabuse Justina of her notions of such things as “fate.”
What could May say, anyway? That fortune tellers were liars? Could she really utter those words confidently when mere minutes after a fortune teller foresaw riches in May’s future, a duke appeared, promising to fill her pockets with coin? All she had to do was put her own reputation on the line.
May knelt at the foot of her bed and reached underneath to retrieve a small chest which held the few belongings she’d kept through the years, the most important among them a carefully folded piece of paper. She pulled it out with a shaky breath.
Some things were worth risking one’s reputation for.
May unfolded the pawnshop slip in her grasp, though there was no need; she knew the sum of those figures by heart. Her mother’s tourmaline necklace, kept from the display shelf week after week with nothing but her meager wages.
Three more months of payments, and she’d be done buying it back.
Trouble was, she had not received her wages this month.
May and Justina’s return from Paris landed them home after the rest of the household had already been paid.
Justina’s funds were at an end, and the mistress of the house, Lady Justina’s mother, had left the house for God knows how long, leaving no funds behind.
May should have alerted Justina. But Justina had a strained relationship with her mother.
After years of extremely frugal spending.
the marchioness made it clear that Lady Justina’s third season would be her last chance to find a husband.
And now, with Justina preoccupied with their unexpected guest… .
No. May would not make a fuss by asking her friend for money she did not have or summon the marchioness back home to find her daughter caring for a stranger. Not when there was another way.
The duke’s offer replayed over and over in her mind.
The advance alone would cover two months’ worth of the outstanding total.
She’d saved for so long, holding back the threat of losing her family’s last heirloom with a sheer force of will…
. If dangling herself in front of a man to test his loyalty meant she could rescue her mother’s necklace even a moment sooner, it would be well worth it.
She’d have to play the role of the duke’s cousin.
Though her education matched that of a noble lady, May had no illusions; it would not be an easy task to keep up appearances.
She’d been privy to society’s highest circles, but only as a spectator.
One careless remark, and May was sure to be discovered.
And if such a thing happened, there was little doubt that the duke’s sister would not find her brother’s antics all that noble.
May felt an unexpected pang of envy. No matter how pragmatic he liked to appear, the duke clearly cared for his sister’s happiness.
What did it feel like to have such a man in your corner, ready to protect you, should you make the wrong choice?
She supposed she would find out if she accepted his offer.
After all, he promised her protection, should she be threatened.
Yet the main threat of this assignment lay with the duke himself.
There was no denying the warmth that filled her chest when he spoke, the thrill she felt when his eyes met hers.
The effect his proximity had on her was…
concerning. But then, she wouldn’t have to spend time with him and proving a man a cheat was hardly difficult.
Be professional and stay away from His eminent Grace. How hard can it be?
She would have to find out, wouldn’t she? May took a steadying breath and set about writing a letter.
It was all too easy to gain Lady Justina’s permission for some time off.
May had never lied to her friend before, but she held it together as she spun a tale of some of her father’s old belongings resurfacing in his old parish.
Better invent a little story than stab at the already widening gap between Justina and her mother.
Justina met the news with distracted but genuine enthusiasm—she had her hands too full with their sudden guest to see through May’s deception.
May wrote to the duke, and arrangements were made, down to the outfit May had to wear upon arrival.
Barely two weeks later, her hired carriage rolled to a stop at the enormous doors of Southam House.
As May made her way up the marble steps to the entrance, she struggled to keep her legs steady.
She was used to seeing all sorts of affluent residences in London and being Justina’s confidante had brought her to many a ballroom, but she’d seen nothing like this.
It took centuries of meticulous care to establish such a residence, and in close proximity to central London, too.
But May had no time to be intimidated—not when the duke had requested her presence with striking precision, down to this very chosen minute.
The doors swung open, and she stepped inside. The butler led her through to the sitting room, and May took stock of her surroundings as he announced her.
“Lady May Graceworth.”
She’d have to get used to the title the duke invented for her.
A man turned from the window at the announcement, and May found herself staring at a stranger who was just as startled as she.
“You are not my cousin,” said May, processing. Cousin or duke, they were one and the same, and he was neither.
“That I am not.” The man cleared his throat and offered a polite bow. “Blake Shaw, at your service. Would you care to sit?”
Well, I’ll be. His Grace certainly did not waste any time in putting her to use.
May settled onto the settee and stared at the man who was the unknowing reason behind her arrival.
Blake Shaw, who was Lord Spencer, seemed perfectly polite and certainly easy on the eyes, with a broad-shouldered but taut stature like a hunter, ready to spring into action.
His eyes were kind, however, and his face was open.
She could hardly see the nefarious nature the duke suspected.
But then again, if it were that easy, the duke would have no need of her.
“Well, I am glad not to be the only new addition. Is this a Northern accent I hear?”
“You have a keen ear. Indeed, I grew up close to Newcastle and spent many years stationed there until… well, now.”