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Chapter 2.1 (Part 1)
After Mr. Bailey left, Felix issued a set of rapid and comprehensive orders to his majordomo Gibson. In response, his savants flew to various corners of London, some to Twyford House, others to certain agencies specializing in the hire of household staff to the élite of the ton. One footman was despatched with a note from the Duke to an address in Half Moon Street, requesting the favour of a private interview with his paternal aunt, Lady Hillsborough.
As Felix had intended, his politely worded missive intrigued his aunt. Wondering what had prompted such a strange request from her reprehensible nephew, she immediately granted it and settled down to await his coming with an air of pleasurable anticipation.
Felix arrived at the small house shortly after noon. He found his aunt attired in a very becoming gown of purple sarsenet with a new and unquestionably modish wig perched atop her commanding visa
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Knowing this was an attitude he was going to meet increasingly in the next few weeks, Felix sighed. In an even tone suggestive of long suffering, he pointed out the obvious. "They weren't left to me but to my esteemed and now departed uncle's care. Mind you, I can't see that he'd have been much use to 'em either." Wiping the tears from her eyes, Lady Hillsborough considered this view. "Can't see it myself," she admitted. "Harry always was a slow-top. Who are they?" "The Misses Fleming. From Hertfordshire." Felix proceeded to give her a brief résumé of the life history of the Flemings, ending with the information that it transpired all four girls were heiresses. Amelia Hillsborough was taken aback. "And you say they're beautiful to boot?" "The one I've seen, Margaret, the eldest, most definitely is."&n
The Duke And His Four Wards Chapter 2.2 (Part 1)
When he called at Guile's promptly at two, Felix was relieved to find Miss Fleming alone in the foyer, seated on a chaise opposite the door, her bonnet beside her. He was not to know that Margaret had had to exert every last particle of persuasion to achieve this end. And she had been quite unable to prevent her three sisters from keeping watch from the windows of their bedchambers. As she had expected, she had had to describe His Grace of Twyford in detail for her sisters. Looking up at the figure striding across the foyer towards her, she did not think she had done too badly. What had been hardest to convey was the indefinable air that hung about him—compelling, exciting, it immediately brought to mind a whole range of emotions well-bred young ladies were not supposed to comprehend, let alone feel. As he took her hand for an instant in his own,
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They had reached the gates of the Park and turned into the carriage drive. Soon, the curricle was bowling along at a steady pace under the trees, still devoid of any by the earliest leaves. A light breeze lifted the ends of the ribbons on Margaret's hat and playfully danced along the horses' dark manes. Felix watched as Margaret gazed about her with interest. "I'm afraid you'll not see many notables at this hour. Mostly nursemaids and their charges. Later, between three and five, it'll crowded. The Season's not yet begun in earnest, but by now most people will have returned to town. And the Park is the place to be seen. All the old biddies come here to exchange the latest on-dits and all the young ladies promenade along the walks with their beaux." "I see." Margaret smiled to herself, a secret smile as she imagined how she and her sisters would fit into this scene. Feli
The Duke And His Four Wards Chapter 2.3
"Oooh, Maggie! Isn't he magnificent?" Maribella's round eyes, brilliant and bright, greeted Margaret as she entered their parlour. "Did he agree to be our guardian?" Asked the phlegmatic Sophia. And, "Is he nice?" from the youngest Emma. All the important questions, thought Margaret with an affectionate smile, as she threw her bonnet aside and subsided into an armchair with a whisper of her stylish skirts. Her three half-sisters gathered around eagerly. She eyed them fondly. It would be hard to find three more attractive young ladies, even though she did say so herself. Twenty-year-old Sophia, with her dark brown hair and dramatically pale face, settling herself on one arm of her chair. Maribella on h
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Thup, thup, thup. The tip of Lady Hillsborough's thin cane bear a slow tattoo, muffled by the pile of the Aubusson carpet. She was pleasantly impatient, waiting with definite anticipation to see her new charges. Her sharp blue gaze had already taken in the state of the room, the perfectly organized furniture, everything tidy and in readiness. If she had not known it for fact, she would never have believed that, yesterday morn, Twyford House had been shut up, the knocker off the door, every piece of furniture shrouded in Holland covers. Gibson was priceless. There was even a bowl of early crocus on the side-table between the long windows. These stood open, giving access to the beat courtyard, flanked by flowerbeds bursting into colourful life. A marble fountain stood at its centre, a Grecian maiden pouring water never-endingly from an urn. Her contemplation of the scene was interrupted by a peremptory knock in the street door. A moment l
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As her gaze rested on the powerful figure, negligently at ease in his chair, she reflected that it really was unfair he had inherited only the best from both his parents. The combination of virility, good looks and power of both mind and body was overwhelming; throw the titles in for good measure and it was no wonder Felix Cambridge had been the target of so many matchmaking mamas throughout his adult life. But he had shown no sign whatever of succumbing to the demure attractions of any débutante. His preference was, always had been, for women of far more voluptuous charms. The litany of his past mistresses attested to his devotion to his ideal. They had all, every last one, been well-endowed. Hardly surprising, she mused. Felix was tall, powerful and vigorous. She could not readily imagine any of the delicate webs satisfying his appetites. Her wandering mind dwelt on the subject of his latest affaire, aside, of course, from hi
The Duke And His Four Wards Chapter 3.1 (Part 1)
"No!" Felix shook his head stubbornly, a frown if quite dramatic proportions darkening his handsome face. Lady Hillsborough sighed mightily and frowned back. On recovering her wits, she had sternly repressed her mirth and sent the three younger Flemings into the courtyard. But after ten minutes of carefully reasoned argument, Felix remained adamant. However, she was quite determined her scapegrace nephew would not succeed in dodging he responsibilities. Aside from anything else, the situation seemed set to afford her hours of entertainment and, at her age, such opportunities could not be lightly passed by. Her lips compressed into a thin line and a martial light appeared in her blue eyes. Felix, recognizing the signs, got in first. "It's impossible! Just think of the talk!" Amelia's eyes widened to their fullest extent. "Why should you care?" she asked. "Your career to
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Lady Hillsborough eyed Felix’s unyielding back with a frown. Then she turned to the woman beside her. She had already formed a high opinion of Miss Fleming. What was even more to the point, being considerably more than seven, Amelia had also perceived that her reprehensible nephew was far from indifferent to the luscious beauty. Meeting the grey-green eyes her ladyship raised her brows. Margaret nodded and rose. Felix turned as Margaret laid her hand on his arm. She was watching her sisters, not him. Her voice, when she spoke, was tactfully lie. “If it would truly bother you to stand as our guardian, I’m sure we could make some other arrangement.” As she finished speaking, she raised her eyes to his. Accustomed to every feminine wile known to woman, Fel
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