The King's Doll Read online

  In fact, the only member of the group who went to bed in black despair was the Duke of Lansdale. He knew, better than Dani, his duty and deep obligation to his name: to protect and defend it against slur or slander. It was expected of him, and he had expected it of himself, that he would one day marry a suitable young woman of unexceptionable lineage and produce healthy heirs to carry on the name. Tiri has a faultless lineage! his heart cried out.

  But she also has a mother who was a King's mistress—and, worse, is likely to become notorious in the same role with the Prince of Wales! his reason informed him doggedly. He had seen the lecherous intent in Prinny's pursuit of the charming French widow, and the wide, sweet smile with which Dani received it. The Duke knew that many peers were unfaithful to their wives, and even more peeresses deceived their husbands. But they were part of the established system, not foreign newcomers to it, whose every action would be watched, challenged, and damned.

  As dawn was breaking over London, the Duke came to his decision. He would ask the girl to marry him and then retire with her and her mother to the safe obscurity of his gracious estate at Lansdale.

  CHAPTER 16

  Alas for all the optimistic schemes constructed during that troubled night! The first thing that occurred the next morning threatened to destroy every hope.

  None of the ladies at Mall House had officially risen when Fallow sent a maid up to inform his mistress that she had visitors with an urgent need to speak to her.

  “Two ladies was all Mr. Fallow tol’ me,” confessed the maid. “I was helping’ to fix brekfus’ trays when he sent me up—milady."

  Filled with a strong sense of alarm, the Duchess allowed herself to be dressed hastily and went downstairs. Amelia and Bridget Mall were waiting for her in the drawing room. Letitia knew as soon as she saw their faces that she was not going to like their news. Bridget could not wait even for the customary civilities before opening the budget.

  “Your house guest, whom you have thrust upon Their Majesties, is a whore!"

  Her mother winced at the crudity. “Mistress!” she substituted.

  “That doesn't make it any better!” snapped Bridget. “Will you have to apologize, Cousin Letitia? To the Queen, I mean. Of course they won't let Princess Mary drive out with that daughter of hers any longer!” She was radiating satisfaction at the situation.

  How much she dislikes me, thought Letitia sadly. Daral was right.

  “We shall still receive you, Letitia,” promised her cousin Amelia, “and Daral. After you've gotten rid of those—women, of course."

  Letitia sat down slowly. “Perhaps you'd better leave now,” she said. “Since Dani and Tiri are still here in my house and will remain here as long as they wish to do so."

  Bridget glared at her. “You are a fool,” she cried harshly. “But then you always were! A cheeseparing, ugly old woman, puffed up with your son's importance! If you keep those two creatures here, I shall not want to know you, and neither will anyone else!"

  She went out of the room with quite a vulgar flounce.

  Her mother hesitated near the chair where Letitia sat staring blankly at nothing.

  “She's right, you know,” Amelia said. “You'll be cold-shouldered by the Ton when this gets around—"

  “—and Bridget can't wait to spread it,” Letitia completed for her. She looked at her former bosombow. “I thought I knew you, Amelia. I believed we were friends as well as cousins, but you never really liked me, did you? You have no thought of trying to protect me now."

  Amelia gave her an assessing glance. “You got George and made his life a misery. I might have made him happy.” She swept out of the room after her daughter.

  Lady Letitia walked over to a small desk and sat down to write a note to Daral. When it was finished, she rang for Fallow. “Have a groom take this to my son's house at once, if you please,” she instructed and then added, “Send a maid up to request that the Countess join me in the morning room."

  When Dani came into the room ten minutes later, Lady Letitia insisted upon pouring her a cup of coffee before she disclosed the reason for the summons.

  “It is early for all of us, I know,” she explained, “but there is an emergency ... a problem we must talk about, after our coffee."

  Dani was afraid she knew exactly what—or who-the problem was, but she was puzzled by Her Grace's quietly friendly attitude. So she got down the bitter brew gratefully, and accepted some freshly toasted bread with butter. The Duchess did not eat anything, Dani noticed, but she did drink two cups of the coffee.

  Finally, Dani could not bear the weighted silence any longer. “You looked very soignée last night, Your Grace,” she said in her soft, pretty voice. “I am going to teach your dresser, Perkin, how to apply the maquillage for you. I shall leave you a supply of it before I go."

  Lady Letitia's gaze came up and scanned the Frenchwoman's face. “Before you go?” she repeated sharply.

  Dani nodded. “I am sure this early summons means that the Marquis de Bayard has told his tale, and I would not embarrass a lady who has been as kind a sponsor as you have been. Tiri and I shall leave today"—she gave a little laugh—"and you can tell them all how King Louis forced us upon you! It is, after all, a distinction none of your friends can boast—that a reigning monarch begged them to shelter his belle amie!"

  “I am not going to let you leave,” said Lady Letitia firmly. “You are staying here until we can decide where you would be the happiest, and doing what.” Dani stared into the woman's face. The maquillage had been washed off last night, and the Duchess presented her usual rather grim countenance, undeniably plain, yet there was a new light in the pale green eyes that regarded Dani so steadily.

  Dani began to weep.

  The Duchess got up rather stiffly and marched around the table to her guest's side. Bending, she gave Dani an awkward pat on the shoulder. “Do not cry,” she ordered. “You will make runnels in your maquillage."

  “R-runnels?” choked Dani, between laughter and tears.

  “Rivulets, channels, ravines—” suggested the Duchess in an attempt to find an appropriate word. Dani began to laugh. "Des canals, course d'eau, cascades? Mais non! I must use my new language, the so-amusing English! It is that I make troughs, ditches in my cosmetique lotions, is it not?"

  “All that, on one small face?” protested the Duchess.

  Suddenly they were both laughing unreservedly. The Duke, entering upon this scene of levity when he had expected tears, recriminations, Heaven-knew-what-other-female-hysteria, was dumbfounded.

  The sight of his stunned expression sent the two ladies off into fresh gales of laughter. Gradually the Duke's tense countenance relaxed into a grin.

  “If I did not know better, I should think you both jug-bitten,” he said.

  “We have only been drinking coffee,” gasped his mother. “Have some!"

  “Thank you, no!” her son said hastily. “Not your cook's version of that fascinating drink! But if Fallow will bring me some tea, I shall be delighted to break my fast with you. I did not stop to eat when I received your message this morning.” He found the butler at his elbow, who ushered him into a seat and then waved forward a hovering footman with a tray. “Ah, good man, Fallow! You have anticipated my needs!” He permitted himself to be served with not only tea, but fresh-baked bread, sliced ham, and eggs coddled to his taste. His eyebrows rose. “It must indeed be an emergency, when I am so adroitly cosseted!"

  This reminder of their difficulty sobered the ladies, but His Grace was pleased to see that they did not go immediately into the dismal. When the servants retired, the Duke said quietly, “I suppose this has something to do with the French Marquis?” His glance at Dani was wary but commiserating.

  “Amelia and Bridget were here,” the Duchess informed him baldly. “They told me the story was circulating throughout the Ton—"

  “Helped along, I have no doubt, by them,” added the Duke with fierce disgust. “I had hoped our own relatives would close
ranks to protect us!"

  “We are ready to leave at once, Your Grace,” said Dani. “With hearts full of gratitude for all the kindness you both have showered upon us!"

  “Where will you go?” asked the Duke.

  “Tiri suggested North America,” said Dani with an irrepressible twinkle.

  “You might find difficulty getting maquillage there,” warned His Grace with a grin. “It is rather a long way for your friends to go to call upon you!"

  “Enough of this raillery!” commanded the Duchess. “Where can we find them a refuge, Daral? Or shall we brave it out?"

  The Duke's startled glance at his mother was so admiring that she became quite red with pleasure.

  “I had an idea as we drove home last night,” said His Grace, remembering Tiri's slender body shaking with laughter at his joke, and the sparkle in her lovely eyes. Bedamned to the Conventions of Polite Society! It was his life to live, and he knew, at this moment, exactly how he wanted to live it. He faced the expectant but not too hopeful ladies with a smile suddenly vibrant and carefree.

  “Why do I not take your often-repeated advice, Mama, and marry Mam'selle de Granville? Her lineage is equal to my own, and you must admit she is much prettier than I am!"

  Dani's jaw dropped.

  The Duchess's firm mouth quirked with a smile of satisfaction at this example of manly decisiveness.

  Then Dani, gathering her scattered wits, cried out, “You can not do this, Your Grace! It would mean social disaster for you and your mother!"

  “I have never gotten much joy out of my social acceptance,” said the Duchess dryly. “My only visit to Carlton House, moreover, was your doing, Dani. My invitation to the palace came through my sponsorship of your daughter. You can see that were it not for your presence, I should never have reached those dazzling heights! In general, my dear Dani, my social experience is limited to gossiping with a few old cronies and attending dull dinners. Not a great loss, you will agree."

  The Duke was not paying much attention to female ditherings. “We are here to decide our course of action,” he reminded them, and got down to the nub of the matter without further ado. “Where is Tiri?"

  “She is still in her room,” said the Duchess. “I thought she should not be present at this particular discussion."

  “Perhaps you are right,” admitted the Duke, “especially in view of our present subject. Still, I would like to have seen her."

  “Quite ineligible, until the matter is settled,” said his mama crisply.

  “Just long enough to make sure she is well after last night's excitements?” coaxed His Grace boyishly.

  Dani's wondering stare had been moving between mother and son. She had never seen them so in charity with one another. The Duke, in this wheedling mood, looked to be scarcely out of his teens, a fit match for the young Tiri, thought Dani lovingly, in every way that counted, except one.

  “She is well enough, Your Grace,” Dani told the Duke, “but greatly concerned about the effect upon your good name of the Marquis's revelations."

  “What enrages me,” said the Duke with a touch of his former hauteur, “is the fact that half the noble names in the Ton are smirched with rumors of scandalous practices, yet no one seems to hold it against them. Why, then, should we be harassed because our charming and beautiful guest attracted the devotion of a reigning monarch? It hardly seems fair."

  “Do you tell me you expect the Haut Ton to be fair?" asked the Duchess tartly. “If you do so, you have not yet had your eyes opened."

  “This is getting nowhere.” The Duke took charge once again. “Our decision is made! Tiri is to marry me with all the pomp and ceremony we can arrange. Can we hope that a member of the de Granville family can be persuaded to come to London to give her to me in the Cathedral?"

  Dani smiled without rancor. “It might take some time. They are a crabbed, suspicious family, as I remember, but, if I am not present in the Cathedral, then assuredly one will come."

  “In which case, I shall not ask,” said the Duke crisply. “It is part of my strategy to ignore completely the false and malicious canards about your position in French Society. You had your own residence in Paris? You did not live at Versailles or the Tuileries Palace?"

  “I had a very discreet and elegant small house on the Rue du Rhône,” Dani replied primly. Her lovely eyes sparkled with mischief. “None of my elderly, very respectable neighbors guessed that the poor young widow with the adorable daughter was, upon occasion, visited by a certain Very Important Personage."

  “Then we may take it that investigations into your home would reveal nothing we wish to conceal?” teased the Duke.

  They laughed together.

  She was a volatile little creature, the Duchess thought fondly. Her very real concern for her sponsors’ welfare was easily assuaged by a humorous exchange. Still, what fun she was! Her Grace happily envisioned many enjoyable sessions in the spacious luxury of Lansdale Hall. If only they were past the next few weeks, with all the hazards and humiliations that might be waiting for them! She urged everyone to have another cup of coffee.

  Alone in her room, Tiri dressed carefully, apprehensive about the urgent summons to her maman. Of course it had something to do with Dani's relationship to King Louis! They must get away before his association with them hurt the Duke! Tiri sighed despondently. He was such a darling, dear Daral! If only she had some gift she could give him, worthy of the kindness he had shown her and Dani! But there was nothing! She went ahead with the packing of her garments into her trunk; she wanted to be ready for any eventuality when her mother brought her news.

  She was nearly finished when a maid tapped on the door and brought in a folded and sealed note. Tiri took it and waited until the maid had left before scanning it carefully. She did not recognize the hand. It was inscribed to Miss Granville. Tiri opened it and hastily read the lines.

  Then a sickness curled in her stomach, and her throat tightened. The message was scurrilous—ugly—detestable. Even the brief warning at the end: “Get out of London, you slut! unless you wish to be stoned and your wanton mother with you! Your presence is an affront to decency. The Duke will suffer for your sins!"

  Of course it was not signed. It did not really matter who had penned the words—the scorn and disgust would be present, no doubt, in the minds of most of the Duke's friends. It was too much! Tiri let the note fall from her fingers. She stared blindly around, seeing nothing but her own tears. Then, with an agonized breath, she slipped into Dani's room. Her mother's trunk was already packed and locked. Tiri hastily collected Dani's jewel case, cosmetiques, and personal belongings, and put them in a small handcase. A nightgown, a warm shawl, and finally the reticule that held their pitiful funds followed. As she was completing the task, she paused.

  I have been in a panic! she thought. There is one who would help us, I am sure. Sir Hilary will stand Maman's friend, even though Dani now believes there was nothing important between them. Even if his ardor has cooled, reasoned Tiri (who did not know much about it), still he will not want us to go completely under!

  She nodded. She would ask him to give them shelter just for the night. Perhaps even help them find honest work in some provincial shop or small town boutique, far from London! Dani's skill at dressmaking should make her a useful addition to any modiste's staff. As for herself, Tiri was willing to do any menial work, however difficult.

  Fired with this resolve, Tiri took a few pence from the reticule for hackney fare and slipped quietly down the stairs and out the door. Fallow did not see her leave, for he was busy overseeing the salvers of food being taken into the morning room. A page, on temporary duty, saw her, but she smiled and pledged him to secrecy. It was half an hour later before Dani, returning with triumphant news to their suite, discovered that Tiri was missing.

  At once the darkest fears of kidnapping or even worse horrors surfaced in the Duke's mind. The discovery of the note on the floor in Tiri's bedroom assuaged the worst of these, but presented him
with an unsavory picture of the kind of slights and insults his darling girl might be subject to, if she took her place in Polite Society.

  “We'll go down to Lansdale, and be married there!” he raged. “We need never show our faces in this filthy city again!"

  Dani was, meanwhile, trying to think where Tiri might have gone. The Duchess sat with her, ready to hold her hand or offer a handkerchief if her motherly feelings overcame her. Instead, she and the Duke were treated to the sight of Dani-in-action: a very different female from the aspects of her character they had previously seen.

  “She has obviously gone somewhere to find help,” began Dani in a businesslike tone. “Oh, not because she mistrusted you, Your Grace.” She had caught the look of hurt on the Duke's face. “She is trying to save your honor and defend your consequence without dragging you into the mire. She loves you, you see,” she added softly. Then, resuming her cogitations, she said, “Would she have gone to seek help from the Prince? No, for she does mistrust him. She is afraid I may accept his lures.” She smiled, but there was little mirth in it now. “But we know no one in London—Ah!” Her eyes widened.

  “You have thought of someone?” asked the Duchess eagerly.

  “Sir Hilary,” announced Dani.

  The Duke turned to the door. Then he turned back. “I can get his address from Pitt's secretary,” he said slowly, “but something tells me you might know it, Dani. Am I right?"

  Unsmiling, Dani gave him the street and number.

  The Duke smiled reassuringly at Dani and his mother. “I'll bring her back safely, the little idiot,” he said lovingly. “I'm sure Conray will treat her like his own daughter."

  “If she is not there—” began his mother. “Then I will return here to see if you have news, and we will begin our search."