The Ugly Duchess - Page 6/67

He turned around, and she found to her relief that he had a lopsided smile on his face. “Daisy, do you suppose you’ll try to take over the House of Parliament someday?”

“They should be so lucky!” she retorted. “But seriously, James, will you at least listen to my plan?”

“To conquer the world?”

“To conquer Geoffrey, which is much more important. If you would pretend to woo me, just long enough so that I would be noticed, it would mean the world to me. You never come to balls, and if you began to escort me, then everyone would be asking why, and before we knew it, I would find myself talking to Geoffrey about something . . . and then I could charm him into overlooking my profile and he would be mine.” She sat back, triumphant. “Isn’t that a brilliant plan?”

James’s eyes narrowed. “It has some advantages.”

“Such as?”

“Father would think I was wooing you and leave me alone for a bit.”

Theo clapped. “Perfect! I’m absolutely certain that Geoffrey will talk to you. Wasn’t he head boy in your last year at Eton?”

“Yes, and because of that I can tell you straight out that Trevelyan would make an uncomfortable husband. He’s far too clever for his own good. And he has a nasty way of making jokes about people.”

“That’s what I like about him.”

“Not to mention the fact that he’s ugly as sin,” James added.

“He isn’t! He’s deliciously tall and his eyes are bronzy-brown colored. They make me think of—”

“Do not tell me,” James said with an expression of utter revulsion. “I don’t want to know.”

“Of morning chocolate,” Theo said, ignoring him. “Or Tib’s eyes when he was a puppy.”

“Tib is a dog,” James said, displaying a talent for the obvious. “You think the love of your life looks like a ten-year-old obese dog?” He assumed a mockingly thoughtful attitude. “You’re right! Trevelyan does have a doggy look about him! Why didn’t I notice that?”

Demonstrating that she had not spent seventeen years in the Duke of Ashbrook’s household for nothing, Theo threw one of her slippers straight at James’s head. It skimmed his ear, which led to an ungraceful (and rather juvenile) scene in which he chased her around the bedchamber. When he caught her, he snatched her around the waist, bent her forward, and rubbed his knuckles into her skull while she howled in protest.

It was a scene that Theo’s bedroom, and indeed, many other chambers on various Ashbrook estates, had seen many a time.

But even as Theo howled and kicked at his ankles, James had the sudden realization that he was holding a fragrant bundle of woman. That those were breasts against his arm. That Daisy’s rounded bottom was grinding against him and it felt . . .

His hands flew apart without conscious volition, and she fell to the ground with an audible thud. There was true annoyance in her voice as she rose, rubbing her knee.

“What’s the matter with you?” she scolded. “You’ve never let me fall before.”

“We shouldn’t play such games. We’re— You’re soon to be a married woman, after all.”

Theo narrowed her eyes.

“And my arm is sore,” James added quickly, feeling his cheeks warm. He hated lying. And he particularly hated lying to Daisy.

“You look fine to me,” she said, giving him a sweeping glance. “I don’t see an injury that warrants your dropping me on the floor like a teacup.”

It wasn’t until James practically ran from the room that Theo sank onto the bed and thought about what she had seen.

She’d seen that particular bulge in men’s breeches before. It was a shock to see it on James, though. She didn’t think of him in those terms.

But then, all of a sudden, she did.

Three

Eight hours later . . .

“Theodora, darling, are you ready?” Mrs. Saxby entered Theo’s room in a headlong trot. Theo often thought of her dear mama as being like an ostrich, all neck and long legs in constant motion.

At the moment that neck was much in evidence, as diamonds glittered all over it.

“Tell me how I look,” her mother demanded.

“Like St. Paul’s at Christmas,” Theo said, giving her a kiss. “All twinkly and pretty, as if you wore a necklace of stars.”

Her mother turned a little pink. “I am wearing quite a lot of diamonds, aren’t I? But the countess’s ball comes only once a year. One should definitely put one’s best foot forward.”

“Or best diamonds, as the case may be,” Theo agreed.

“Let me look at you, darling,” her mother said, drawing back. “That dress is quite pretty.”

“I loathe pretty,” Theo said, knowing this opinion carried no weight. “ ‘Pretty’ is terrible on me, Mama.”

“I think you look absolutely lovely,” her mother replied, honesty shining from her whole face. “Like the prettiest, sweetest girl in the whole of London.”

“You don’t think that you might be the slightest bit blinded by your maternal sensibilities?” Theo asked, submitting to a fragrant hug.

“Not at all. Not a bit.”

“Last night I overheard two girls remarking on how much I look like a boy,” Theo said, probing the memory like a sore tooth. “And let’s not even entertain the idea that I’m sweet, Mama.”

Her mother scowled. “That’s absurd. How can anyone possibly think such a thing? They’re probably blind, like poor Genevieve Heppler. Her mother will not allow her to wear her spectacles, and last night she blundered straight into me.”

“They think it because I do look like a boy,” Theo retorted. But she didn’t expect agreement, and she didn’t get it. “At any rate,” she said, “James and I have hatched a scheme that will get me noticed by the utterly delicious Geoffrey.”

For some reason, Mrs. Saxby did not think that young Lord Geoffrey Trevelyan was as perfect as Theo knew him to be. But, then, she hadn’t spent much of the last three weeks examining him as closely as Theo had—albeit from afar, since they’d exchanged scarcely a word.

“James will pretend to woo me,” Theo explained, turning to the mirror and patting the ringlets that had taken her maid a good hour to concoct.

Mrs. Saxby’s mouth fell inelegantly open. “He will what?”

“Pretend—just pretend, obviously—to woo me. His father has determined it’s time he looked for a wife. But James doesn’t want to. You know how he hates even making an appearance at a ball, let alone engaging in polite conversation with a lady. But if it looks as if he’s squiring me around the ballroom, not only will the duke be appeased, but everyone will take note, because James never comes to events like these. And that means they will notice me.”

“They’ll take note all right,” her mother said.

“Once they are actually looking at me, I can attract Geoffrey’s attention,” Theo said. The scheme sounded rather foolish once she said it aloud. A man like Lord Geoffrey Trevelyan probably didn’t care to have a horse-faced girl like herself making clever remarks at him.

But her mother looked rather surprisingly amenable. Then a frown crossed her face and she asked, quite sharply, “Whose idea was this?”