The Complete Regency Surrender Collection

‘Is that an American rule of conduct? What is the case when only one of the party is angry?’

‘Then that person should remain silent. Usually the harshest statements are made in anger.’

He leaned his head closer. ‘And you are angry with me because you feel I have deliberately deceived you?’

‘Yes.’ She would not give him the satisfaction of knowing she was also angry because he had previously ignored her.

‘You say angry people should not converse, and yet here you are speaking to me. I really am becoming puzzled with your logic.’ He inhaled slowly.

Katrina jerked her head away from his.

He had the nerve to grin at her. ‘I am simply stating the inconsistency of our situation.’

‘Do not patronise me,’ she chided. ‘And stop sniffing my hair. It is disconcerting.’

‘For you or for me?’

‘For me,’ she replied in a low, forceful voice. ‘If sniffing my hair leaves you disconcerted that is another reason you should stop doing it.’

‘But there lies the rub. You see, where you are concerned I cannot help myself. I have become quite fond of lemons, by the way.’

‘They can be sour and leave a bitter taste in your mouth.’

His gaze dropped to her lips. ‘Yes, that is true. But they can also be refreshing, as well as tart.’

‘Perhaps you would do better to seek out something bland, like lavender or orange blossom. I’ve noticed a great many women in London favour those scents. I am certain if you try you can find an alternative place for your nose,’ she suggested with false sweetness.

His lips twitched. ‘Oh, I can think of a few places my nose would care to be.’

The insufferable man! She was not as naïve as he might think.

‘I am not speaking with you.’ She raised her chin, annoyed that he had taken the upper hand in their discussion.

‘So you said. You dance very well, by the way.’

‘Do you always ignore other people’s wishes?’

‘Usually. They never seem to mind.’ He gave a small shrug as he guided her gracefully into a turn. ‘In any event, I was not ignoring your wishes. You stated quite clearly that you were not speaking with me. I, on the other hand, have never said I am not speaking with you. In fact I believe you are the one ignoring your own wishes. You are continuing to speak with me.’

She shifted her attention to the dancers behind him and let out an exasperated breath.

He leaned down slightly. ‘That still might constitute speaking. It is a confirmation of your annoyance with me.’

Sliding her gaze back to him, she wondered how many more minutes she would have to be in his company. He sent her an amused look. Could she kick him during the dance without anyone seeing?

‘Now, Miss Vandenberg, you do not want the entire assembly to know that you are cross with me. It might reflect poorly on you. I suggest you pretend to enjoy being in my arms.’

That was the problem. Being in his arms was distracting, and it was making her feel all...fluttery. She forced herself to appear bored.

He appeared smug.

Blast it all!

‘Do you think every unmarried woman in this room wants you?’

‘Well, since I am one of only two eligible dukes in England who are able to eat with their own teeth, yes, I believe that to be true.’

‘I suppose that would matter were I English, but, you see, to me your title has little appeal. In fact, to me, your title is inconsequential.’

‘How so?’ he asked, tilting his head to the side.

‘The other ladies in this room are shopping for a title and prestige, but I am not. I intend to return to America when my father is finished with his business here and I have no intention to marry you or any other Englishman. So, you see, your title holds no interest for me.’

* * *

Julian almost stumbled on the wooden floor. He didn’t know how to respond. His title was impressive! There wasn’t an available woman in the room who didn’t want to be married to him. Except, it seemed, the woman in his arms.

Over the years there had been times when he’d wished he could find someone who would see him for the man he was and not his title. Now that he had his wish, he wasn’t certain he liked the result.

Annoyed with the turn in their conversation, he knew he needed to regain the upper hand. He leaned forward and took a deep breath. Miss Vandenberg shot him a frustrated glare.

It was much too easy to get a reaction from her, and Julian wasn’t ready to think about why that pleased him. Any reservations he’d had about asking her to waltz had gone the minute he held her in his arms and she began to speak. He wondered if she smelled like lemons everywhere...

‘Please stop,’ she whispered.

‘The dance? I think people would notice, don’t you?’

‘Sniffing me.’

‘Oh, that. If it truly bothers you I will find it within me to stop.’

‘I would appreciate the effort.’

There was a brief silence. ‘I do need to thank you, though.’

‘For rinsing my hair with lemon juice? I assure you it has nothing to do with you.’

‘No, not that. I want to thank you for sending my grandmother your father’s book. It was quite kind of you.’

‘It was no bother.’

‘All the same, you made an old woman very happy.’

‘Then, for her, I am pleased I arranged it.’

He thought he saw the faintest hint of a smile. ‘Tell me how you knew it was the Dowager Duchess of Lyonsdale I was referring to in our conversation. It might have been my maternal grandmother.’

‘Do you realise how commanding you are? Phrasing requests as questions is much more polite.’ She lifted her brows expectantly.

He, the Duke of Lyonsdale, had just been schooled in manners again by this American. It was absurd.

‘It’s a habit born of my title. In any event, I will heed your well-meaning lesson and try again. Would you please explain your exceptional deductive skills to me?’

This time a smile definitely tugged at her lips, and Julian found his question well worth the effort.

‘I enquired about you and discovered the Dowager lived in your home. I assumed she was the lady in question and had the book sent there.’

‘And how did you explain the request to your father?’

‘I’ve been handling my father’s correspondence while we have been abroad. I told him we had encountered each other at Hatchards, and that you told me your grandmother’s tale of woe.’

‘He did not question our introduction?’

She leaned closer to him. He could feel her breath on his ear, and he wanted to close his eyes to savour the sensation.

‘I have a secret, Your Grace. In America, formal introductions are not an absolute necessity. Americans frequently meet each other in similar fashion.’

Leaning back, she met his gaze with a good-humoured twinkle in her eyes. Her voice had been low and husky. The heat from her breath had travelled through every part of him.

He lowered his lips towards her ear, wanting to prolong this playful turn in their conversation. ‘What else do Americans do?’

The music of the waltz ended, and Julian was forced to let her go.

‘I suppose you will have to continue to wonder,’ she replied with an impish grin.

He held in a smile, wishing he could spend the remainder of the evening in her company.

Chapter Nine

Many a quizzing glass was raised as Katrina and the Duke walked through the parting attendants. Katrina could hear the whispers following them. Their sparring had been much too entertaining. She needed to remind herself that he was an arrogant man who had avoided her until their accidental encounter at Hatchards. Now, instead of leaving her when the dance was over, he was escorting her off the floor. Spending more time in his company would not be wise.

She began to slide her hand from his arm. ‘I see my father is waiting for me. Thank you.’

The Duke held her hand in place, keeping her at his side. ‘Would you be so kind as to introduce me?’

Would he act like an arrogant aristocrat towards her father? She slowed her steps before leading him to where her father was standing, not far from the dance floor. After introducing them, she waited for Lyonsdale’s next move.

He gave a polite nod of his head to her father. ‘I’d like to thank you for sending your book to my grandmother. Your kind gesture made her quite happy.’

‘It was my pleasure. I am always delighted to hear someone has enjoyed my efforts.’

‘I hear all of London is enjoying your efforts. I understand you are here in preparation for the Anglo-American Conference? I imagine your days are filled with information-gathering. Hopefully you will also have opportunities to explore more of London. I fear evenings such as this do not show us in our best light.’

The inconsistency in his behaviour was baffling, and it was difficult to form a clear picture of his character.

‘And what would you recommend to the worldly traveller?’ she asked.

He turned his head towards her. ‘Vauxhall Gardens and Drury Lane for entertainment, Tattersalls for quality horses, Hyde Park for beauty and fresh air, and Gunter’s for ice.’

He really did have lovely hair. It appeared thick and had some wave to it. And she realised she had memorised every detail of his chiselled features and square jaw.

Her father cleared his throat, drawing Lyonsdale’s attention away from her. ‘I believe you could easily write a guide to London and earn a few pounds, Your Grace.’

‘I fear spending most of my life here has given me a skewed perspective on what others would find entertaining. Perhaps I presume too much?’

‘I do not think you presume too much at all,’ her father continued. ‘Your very thorough list has intrigued me.’

Katrina tilted her head, taking in Lyonsdale’s comfortable yet elegant stance. ‘What would you recommend above all else? If you had only one day in Town, where would you go?’

There was a substantial pause, as if he was trying to recall what he found enjoyable. ‘I would go to the British Museum and see the Elgin Marbles.’

She tried to recall ever hearing the name. ‘I’m not familiar with them.’

‘They are a collection of artefacts from Ancient Greece. You should try to see them before you leave.’

She found it a surprising answer, coming from a man so consumed by his work. ‘And that is what you enjoy in London above all else?’

His lips rose into a hint of a smile. ‘At the moment they are my preferred attraction.’

Her father cleared his throat again. ‘I believe I was correct in my initial assessment, Your Grace. You could compose an admirable travel guide.’

Lyonsdale shifted his intense focus from her. ‘Thank you, sir. I will keep that in mind in the event that I find I am a bit light in the pockets. However, I doubt it would be as entertaining as I hear your book is.’ He smiled pleasantly. ‘Please excuse me. I shall take my leave. It has been a pleasure.’ He tipped his head to both of them and turned away.

She sensed her father’s weighted stare.

‘Let us find you some lemonade,’ he suggested when Lyonsdale was far enough away. As they began walking towards the refreshment table he lowered his voice. ‘This will not end well, my girl.’

‘There is no story here, Papa. Do not look to write one.’

‘That dance said differently. The man is a duke.’

‘I am well aware of that.’

‘Then you know you can have no future with him. He is destined to choose one of his own to marry.’

‘His choice of a bride does not concern me. You know I do not wish to find a husband here. I will not be attached to a man who will commit himself to me in the eyes of God, only to cast me aside when it’s convenient for him to do so. I know all about how Jerome Bonaparte deserted his wife because she was American. I have no desire to have that done to me.’

‘Those might be your feelings at the moment, but feelings can alter when attraction comes into play. I have seen it happen before.’

‘There is no attraction here. There is no game to be had.’

‘You fool yourself if you think so. This room witnessed quite a display of mutual attraction this evening. I would not be surprised if you find yourself in the papers tomorrow. I am only saying this to caution you. Guard your heart, my dear.’

‘It was a waltz. Two people have to grant each other their undivided attention. What you witnessed was a dance.’

‘What the entire room witnessed were two people so absorbed with one another they did not notice when the music ended,’ he said, handing her a glass of lemonade.

‘Of course we did. We stopped dancing.’

She could not deny that she was attracted to Lyonsdale, but it wasn’t as if he was irresistible. Ignoring the pull, she refused to scan the crowd to see who was receiving his attention now.

* * *

As Julian reached his grandmother’s side he followed her gaze to the couples who were assembling on the dance floor.

‘You were waltzing,’ she commented, sipping her lemonade.

He lowered his head to keep their conversation private. ‘We are not discussing this.’

‘I am simply making an observation.’

‘Well, please do not.’

‘She is rather a pretty thing.’

‘I said we are not talking about this.’

‘Talking about what?’ his mother interjected as she joined them.

‘We were discussing the headache Julian has suddenly acquired,’ replied his grandmother as she smiled into the rim of her glass.

Julian straightened and pressed his lips together to keep from laughing.

‘But you never get headaches. How long have you had this one?’ his mother asked anxiously.

‘Only a short while, I assure you,’ he replied, locking his fingers behind his back.

‘Is it severe?’

‘Not at the moment, but that could change.’

‘Do you require a physician?’ she asked in a panicked voice, studying his face.

‘A physician is not necessary.’

‘Very well. I know I need not remind you that you must dance with someone else this evening. We cannot have people believing you have designs on your one partner.’

Julian knew his mother was right. He had only danced once this evening, and he was certain people were speculating about his attendance. If he singled out Miss Vandenberg as his only partner, people would assume he was courting her.

Studying the room, he finally spotted Lady Mary, moving elegantly through a quadrille. He would ask her to dance. It was time he put some effort into conversing with her.

Moving his gaze from Lady Mary, Julian momentarily caught the eye of the amusing Miss Vandenberg...

An hour later he collected Lady Mary for their dance. When he took her hand in his there was no consuming need to pull her into his arms. Was this what bedding her would feel like? Putting on his usual bored expression, he began to dance. He studied her small features, her round youthful face and thick auburn hair. Nothing inside him stirred.

‘Is there something wrong, Your Grace?’

‘No. Why do you ask?’

‘You appear perplexed.’

‘Not at all,’ he replied, blinking away his thoughts.

They danced in silence for quite some time, and Julian tried to think of something they could discuss.

‘Your family—are they well?’

‘Yes, thank you. And yours?’

‘Very well.’

The minutes ticked by.

He tried again, ‘I expect your ride here was pleasant?’

‘Yes. The roads were very smooth. We encountered very few delays.’

‘Excellent.’ Julian clenched his jaw.

Again, there was silence.

‘Have you been enjoying your time here this evening?’ Lady Mary finally attempted to keep the conversation moving.

‘Yes, thank you. And you?’

‘Yes, very much. I always enjoy a ball or an assembly. It is agreeable, seeing so many friends in one place.’

How was it possible that she could speak of enjoyment without really smiling? And why did her eyes appear so lifeless?

‘What other things do you find enjoyable?’

‘Well, I enjoy needlework, playing the pianoforte, helping my mother entertain, and riding through Hyde Park.’

Not once did he see a spark of excitement in her. ‘But what is it that makes you truly happy?’

She looked confused. ‘Forgive me. I do not understand.’

‘If there was one thing you could do for enjoyment, what would it be?’

‘It would be difficult to pick only one thing. What would you choose?’

Julian fought the urge to close his eyes in exasperation. ‘I do not know. I wanted to know what you would choose.’

Lady Mary gave a false smile. ‘Well, we have that in common. I am not certain what I would choose either.’

Chapter Ten

The next morning Katrina was still not fully awake as she sat in the dining room, having breakfast with her father. She took a bite of her toast, and her eyes alighted upon a few sentences in the Morning Chronicle.

The crunchy bread got stuck in her throat and she began to cough.

There was an account of an ‘eligible Duke’ dancing with a ‘foreign lady’ at Almack’s. Speculation was that the ‘eligible Duke’ was looking for a bride, and the ‘foreign lady’ was attempting to gain a title.

Her father handed her his napkin. ‘I was wondering when you would see it. All the newspapers have something to say about your dance. Apparently London has been eagerly awaiting any indication that Lyonsdale is interested in marriage, and if an eligible man attends Almack’s it’s assumed he is in search of a bride. One newspaper speculates that there might be a romance forming between you.’

‘But he was there to escort his mother and his grandmother.’

‘I doubt he would tell you if he was looking for a bride.’

Katrina pushed the paper away, feeling unsettled by the attention. ‘Then why dance with me? Obviously I cannot be under consideration.’

‘That didn’t stop the rumours that you are searching for a title.’

‘I’ve danced with a number of titled gentlemen while we’ve been here. He is not the first one.’

‘Yes, but you have not danced with an unattached man of his rank. A duke who never dances the waltz and suddenly does so with you will cause people to speculate.’ He narrowed his eyes at her. ‘Why do you think he asked you?’

That very question had kept her up most of the night, and she still had no answer. She would eventually return to New York, and he would remain in England—probably married to some dull daughter of another duke. Glancing at her toast, Katrina dropped it onto her plate. Her appetite was gone.

* * *

The moment Julian entered his breakfast room he knew something was amiss. Apart from the servants his mother was there alone, and there was already a glass of what he assumed was sherry in her hand. Just as he was about to take his first sip of coffee she slid the newspapers closer to him.

‘Have you read them yet?’ she asked.

‘No. Why?’

‘Because you are in all of them. You and that American.’

The servants didn’t need to witness this discussion. He signalled for them to leave and searched for the gossip column in the paper closest to him.

‘What do they say?’

‘That you danced with her.’

It was too early to deal with his mother’s irrational ranting. He pushed the paper aside and took a sip of his coffee. ‘It was only a dance.’

‘They are saying you are looking for a bride.’

‘That should make you happy.’

‘Having every Mayfair mother attempt to shove their daughter your way—hardly. They say she is looking for a title.’

‘Miss Vandenberg? They obviously have never spoken to the lady.’

‘Careful, Lyonsdale. She may seek to trap you.’

‘Miss Vandenberg is the last woman in all of London who would trap me.’

‘Then you have no designs on her?’

‘Of course not. As I said, it was just a dance.’

And it was. Wasn’t it?

* * *

Later that morning Katrina was composing a letter to her cousin John when she heard a carriage roll to a stop outside her home. Peering through the linen curtains of the drawing room, she tried to see who it was.

As she shifted her body and tilted her head further Wilkins knocked on the open door to inform her that she had a caller. He seemed to be standing a little taller. When she picked up the card from the silver salver she blinked twice at the Dowager Duchess of Lyonsdale’s name.

It could not be a coincidence that she was calling on Katrina the very day the papers had printed gossip about Katrina and the woman’s grandson. If only she had time for a glass of Madeira.

When the slight old woman slowly entered the room, Katrina dropped into a curtsy and felt the weight of the Dowager’s studied gaze.

Drawing on her diplomatic experience, Katrina smiled politely. ‘Your Grace, I am honoured by your call.’

The Dowager’s eyes were sharp and assessing. With a slight lift of her chin, she held herself with a commanding air. ‘Good day, Miss Vandenberg. I wanted to call on you to thank you for your generous gift.’

At least she hadn’t demanded Katrina leave the country.

‘Would you care for some tea?’ Katrina offered, gesturing towards the settee and chairs near the fireplace.

‘Tea would be lovely.’ The Dowager perched her small, erect frame on the settee. ‘Shall we wait for your mother?’

Katrina sat in one of the bergère chairs and nodded to Wilkins for tea. ‘My mother passed away many years ago.’

The Dowager’s eyes narrowed. ‘My mother died when I was an infant. I have no memory of her.’

‘Nor I. Mine died two days after I was born.’

A look of understanding passed between them.

The Dowager cleared her throat. ‘I assume your father has hired a companion for you, while you are in London?’

Katrina shook her head. Her Great-Aunt Augusta, who had been more a mother to her than anyone, had passed away ten months before. She would have accompanied them to London. Having someone else living with them in her place would have been too painful a reminder of her loss.

‘He offered, but I declined.’

‘That sounds rather lonely. Surely you have someone to chaperon you when you are attending your social engagements?’

‘I do not mind solitude. And the wife of the American Minister has been kind enough to chaperon me on most occasions. Other times I have my maid, who has been with me for many years.’

‘I assume having other Americans around you has eased your adjustment somewhat?’

‘It has.’ Katrina could tell she was being measured by the Duke of Lyonsdale’s grandmother. She just wasn’t sure why.

‘I find it surprising that your father will be involved in negotiating a treaty between our two countries. I doubt anyone here would ask Byron or Scott to do such a thing.’

‘My father is a barrister as well as an author. He has presented cases to our Supreme Court and performed services for President Monroe.’

‘I see.’ The Dowager was silent as she openly took in her surroundings. ‘Will your father remain with the American delegation in London after the negotiations are complete?’

‘As yet he has not been asked to do so.’

How long did it take to make tea?

The Dowager nodded thoughtfully and clasped her hands on her lap. ‘You must convey my appreciation to your father for the book he sent me.’

‘I will let him know when he returns home today. Are you a great reader?’

The Dowager inclined her head. ‘In my youth I read often. I fear that with age my eyes are not what they once were. Most days I have my maid read to me. It is easier on my eyes.’

Finally Wilkins entered with the tea tray. ‘Will there be anything else, miss?’

Katrina had taken note of the Dowager’s slight frame. ‘Yes, Wilkins, I believe a nice log on the fire will do, on such a dreary day.’

The Dowager’s body appeared to relax slightly as the cosy fire warmed the room.

‘How would you care to have your tea?’

‘With some milk and four lumps of sugar, please.’

Before she caught herself, Katrina’s brows rose in surprise. Her Great-Aunt Augusta had enjoyed her tea very sweet, as well. Preparing the cup brought back fond memories of the times when she’d used to sit with the woman who had raised her. She had been her mother’s aunt, and of a similar age to the Dowager. There was something in the Dowager’s eyes that reminded her of her aunt.

‘An extra sweet or two never hurt anyone,’ the Dowager explained, with the faintest hint of a smile.

Katrina grinned and inclined her head. ‘My Great-Aunt Augusta would certainly have agreed.’

‘Then your great-aunt had exceptional taste,’ she said with a sparkle in her eye. She accepted the Wedgwood cup from Katrina. ‘I understand you are acquainted with my grandson?’

Knowing this was the true intention behind the unexpected visit, Katrina focused her attention on pouring herself tea. ‘I am.’

‘I assume you have seen the papers today?’

Katrina placed her cup on the table in case the Dowager’s words left her with shaking hands. ‘Yes, I have.’

‘What are your feelings on the speculation, Miss Vandenberg?’

‘His Grace showed a polite courtesy in asking me to dance. There is nothing more to it. The papers seek to sensationalise the mundane to sell copies. In truth, my only concern is how my actions reflect on my father and his work here.’

The Dowager’s features softened and she took a sip of her tea. ‘You’ll have to acquire a thick skin to live among us. The papers have something to say about everyone. Do not let what they print concern you.’

‘Thank you, but I believe my actions will not warrant comment in the future. I am not an outrageous creature to garner their attention.’ And for that Katrina was grateful.

Her comment seemed to appease the Dowager, and the remainder of her visit was spent discussing their shared love of reading and Katrina’s tour of the Waterloo Battlefield.

By the time the Dowager left, Katrina knew her to be not only elegant in manner, but kind-hearted as well. She had extended an invitation to Katrina to call on her at Lyonsdale House, and even informed her that on Monday afternoons at two she was always at home to receive calls. She had also informed Katrina there was no need to bring a chaperon.

It would be rude not to return the call, and if Katrina was honest with herself she was curious to see Lyonsdale’s home...