Lady Eugenia's Holiday Read online

  “You have enchanted him.” Penelope stood and strolled to the window. “We may arrive together for the Little Season but you will be the fiancée of a duke.”

  And Aunt Rose thought Eugenia was the one who wove fanciful tales.

  “The Little Season will begin with the grand celebration of your forthcoming nuptials,” Penelope elaborated. “Shall we be invited to the wedding?”

  “I should hope so. We were with Genie when she and the duke first met.” Cynthia grasped Eugenia’s hand. “Will the banns be read that first Sunday or shall you be wed with a special license?”

  “I cannot imagine he should want to wait longer than he needs,” Penelope stated in complete confidence.

  “I had wished for a wedding at St. George’s.” Eugenia’s confession was a closely held secret. She had heard of well-known aristocrats marrying there and only dared dream that she could do the same.

  “Oh, that would be grand.” Penelope’s faraway dreamy visage matched that of Cynthia’s expression.

  Eugenia hoped she had not succumbed to the same.

  “And what of your gown?” Cynthia’s voice took on the same dreamy quality of her face. “I had always wished for pale pink cotton with fine embroidery.”

  “I should have a silver satin dress, I think,” Penelope mused.

  “I have always dreamed of white silk and a bit of lace.” Eugenia divulged another secret desire. “And flowers. Dozens, hundreds perhaps. Enough to fill the entire room!”

  “Oh, yes, many, many flowers!” Cynthia cheered.

  “Hothouse flowers,” Penelope amended.

  “Gardenias? Violets?” Cynthia supplied.

  “Peonies,” Eugenia continued. “And after the ceremony there would be a huge, wonderful, sumptuous breakfast.”

  “Und you should have music so wunderbar to express your love!” Herr Mueller then shuffled into the room, joining the ladies.

  All three girls gasped and faced the door at the sudden male presence.

  “Franz!” Cynthia squealed at the same time Eugenia cried out, “Herr Mueller!”

  “Music?” Penelope intoned distastefully. Perhaps the distasteful part was meant for Herr Mueller himself and not his suggestion. “One does not have music at a wedding.”

  “Not usually, however, das may be in an arranged marriage. But Lady Eugenia and her duke such as this, when there is a meeting of two souls, it is not just a ceremony, it is a celebration of the heart!”

  Eugenia sensed the truth in what Franz said.

  “Bitte, tell me of your duke.” He directed his question at Eugenia. “Do you find him charming? Handsome? Something more, perhaps?”

  “He is charming,” Cynthia affirmed, answering for Eugenia. “And most handsome.”

  “Und he ist a duke, therefore his position must be very desired among the ladies, no?”

  “Of course he is desired!” Penelope’s frustration was accompanied by the scuff of the toe of her shoe against the carpet. “He is everything a girl should want.”

  “My admiration for Rothford does not come from his being a duke, it is …” Eugenia did not know exactly how to phrase her regard for him. “I must confess his appeal has nothing to do with his position or his physical appearance … There is something about him … I’m not sure I can say.”

  Franz leaned toward her as Cynthia and Penelope had, the trio hanging on her every word.

  “There was something about the way he held me in his arms, the way he gazed into my eyes. It was very personal.” Eugenia could not explain what she had experienced in any other terms.

  “You felt a connection …” Franz held his index finger in the air, making his point. “The meeting of two souls!”

  “Yes, that’s right.” Eugenia could almost believe that was exactly what had happened.

  Cynthia and Penelope sat mute, astonished at the dialogue between Eugenia and Franz. Whether the two friends did not know what to say, what to add to the conversation, or simply could not comprehend that Eugenia and Franz had reached such a level of mutual understanding left them as the onlookers.

  “You see.” Franz nodded, across his face passed a very peculiar expression Eugenia could not quite identify. Then something appeared … a smile, perhaps? “Ahh,” he intoned thoughtfully and motioned his hands as if conducting an orchestra. “Und now the composition of the duet begins.”

  Chapter 4

  The next afternoon, Eugenia and Cynthia, sans Penelope, chose to frequent the lending library. As they entered, they stopped briefly to exchange pleasantries with several small circles of people sharing a quiet coze. They then ordered tea and found themselves an unoccupied table. No sooner did the tea arrive than Herr Mueller entered.

  Summons from surrounding tables beckoned for the talented musician to join their group without success. Eugenia was quite sure the thought of sitting with someone else had never crossed his mind. How delightful for him that others should value his company, unlike Lady Penelope Coddington who could not have cared less if she ever set eyes on him again.

  As the three of them sat enjoying their tea, Franz rambled on while Eugenia daydreamed. She stared off toward the entrance and noticed the Duke of Rothford enter with two gentlemen. One she recognized as Donald Hamby and she heard them refer to the other as Foster.

  Needless to say, Eugenia’s disposition improved immensely upon seeing Rothford. Franz must have noticed too. He halted in midsentence to turn and see what or who had so completely captivated her attention.

  “It’s him,” Cynthia softly announced. “Your gentleman from last evening. He—”

  “Yes, it is the Duke of Rothford.” Eugenia thought she could remain calm and unaffected by his presence but her heart raced as he neared.

  The handsome trio headed in their direction and did not stop to greet anyone on their way to the back of the establishment. Eugenia had expected his manner would change the moment he saw her.

  She was wrong.

  Rothford did not acknowledge any of them. Eugenia had thought his attention did not matter but the unbidden tears that welled up in her eyes as he passed her in silence told another story. She fumbled at her reticule for a lace handkerchief and blotted away her tears. It was so unladylike to cry in public.

  She had expected some type of recognition from him.

  “Oh, Eugenia, I am so sorry,” Cynthia said soothingly. She set her cup down and laid a comforting hand upon her friend’s arm.

  “Ist this your duke?” Franz’s eyes narrowed and his glare followed the men with interest.

  “My duke, indeed!” Eugenia pouted, wiping the last bit of moisture from her eyes. She sniffed and lifted her chin in new found composure.

  “I cannot believe he said nothing to you,” Cynthia remarked quietly in disbelief.

  “Manner from my country vood not treat a lady so.” Franz’s voice had a hard edge to it. He snatched the napkin from his lap and dropped it on the table. “Verzeihung,” he said, shooting to his feet.

  “Herr Mueller, please sit down!” Eugenia said, she hoped not too loudly. She did not wish to make her situation worse than it already was.

  He understood the warning. His gaze met hers and he lowered himself into his seat at her silent request.

  “Has he not disgraced you, Fraulein?”

  “No, not at all,” she responded curtly but felt the shame of being socially cut. “We have only shared a single dance together. I suppose I have construed something more.” Eugenia rested back in her chair and felt quite ashamed.

  He took to his feet again. “I vill not allow his insufferable action to pass. Und I insist you allow me to speak to him on your behalf!”

  “No, please, Herr Mueller. I do not want you to cause a scene!” She grasped his hand and, with a gentle tug, returned him to his seat. “I thank you for your gallant gesture.”

  Franz straightened his waistcoat and, once again, settled in his chair. “If you ever vish me to intervene, I shall be more than happy to oblige, Fraulein
.”

  It was then Eugenia realized she had underestimated Herr Mueller and Penelope had completely misjudged him. It was there and then that Eugenia decided she should spend more time with the musician and not waste another thought on that dastardly duke.

  That evening there was a rout at Countess Helmsley’s. Eugenia felt a certain trepidation in attending a function that might lure the Duke of Rothford. Still, she believed she could enjoy herself even in the event he should be present.

  She could ignore him just as effectively as he had ignored her.

  As she dressed for the evening, Eugenia had not made the effort for a thorough toilette. She dressed in her azure blue gown but had not made much of an effort with her hair. She pulled curly wisps around her face, allowing the dramatic contrast of her rich, dark hair against the smoothness of her flawless skin, and decided that it would have to do. She simply did not care how she looked tonight.

  Aunt Rose wandered into Eugenia’s room to check on her progress. “I have the most delicious necklace that would go splendidly with that gown,” she tittered.

  With that, Aunt Rose stepped out of the room and returned not more than three minutes later with an exquisite black velvet box. She pulled up on the lid and the heavy brass hinges groaned. The box opened to reveal a massive citrine sparkle. Lying on a pillow of pristine white satin were a necklace, bracelet, and ear bobs.

  She removed the necklace from its resting place and laid it gently around her niece’s neck. Eugenia gazed upon her reflection, noting that even the jewelry did not brighten her spirits.

  “You shall do it justice, I think.” Aunt Rose ran her hand over Eugenia’s head, smoothing her hair in place.

  After adorning Eugenia with matching bracelet, she announced, “You look splendid! Like a duchess!”

  That was the last thing Eugenia wanted to hear.

  “There, there, my dear, you will return to your usual lively self once you’ve danced a few sets,” Aunt Rose assured her. “Next to jewelry, the attention of young men always makes you feel better!”

  Eugenia did not wish to dance. She did not wish to hear music. She really did not wish to attend the party. However, Aunt Rose insisted.

  Once they arrived, Cynthia did her best to cheer Eugenia, but to no avail. The several dances Eugenia managed did little to improve her disposition. It was only with Herr Mueller’s constant attention and generous care that she began to feel a bit better.

  Franz was perhaps not the most attractive of men. Most women might overlook his compassion and forbearance, which well compensated for his physical inadequacy. He did not seem threatening in a suitor type of way and perhaps that is why Eugenia found him so companionable.

  Resting in a brocade chair, Eugenia sat away from the main festivities. Franz came and left with various distractions that might tempt her out of her current bout of the sulks. She sat quietly, her legs crossed at the ankles in a semi-slouched position. It was hardly ladylike.

  She rotated the bracelet around her wrist, pushing gold-set stone after gold-set stone, admiring the small flashes of the yellow citrine reflecting in the dim light. Eugenia found the sparkles so distracting, she didn’t hear the sounds of footsteps approach.

  She startled as a pair of legs in cream-colored breeches appeared before her.

  “I beg your pardon, Lady Eugenia. I did not mean to startle you.”

  It was the Duke of Rothford. And Eugenia had made a point of avoiding him.

  “I do not think I ever gave you permission to address me, sir. We have not been properly introduced.” She straightened in her chair.

  Rothford reached for her arm and helped her stand.

  Eugenia did not feel alarmed. She knew he wouldn’t dare do anything threatening.

  There was a roomful of people only a few feet away, well within calling distance. Not to mention, dear little Franz might return at any moment and come to her aid without even asking.

  The Duke fingered the bracelet. “That’s quite lovely, but it pales in comparison to your beauty.” He then tucked her gloved hand in the crook of his arm and secured its placement, resting his hand over hers.

  Across his face he wore a smile with an uncertain message, reminiscent of the first time she saw him, masked, crossing the room in her direction.

  “I thought you might care to dance?” He already led her to the dance floor. His manner was too confident and very self-assured.

  Eugenia wasn’t sure she cared for it. “It might be nice if you had asked first, sir.” She had not yet graced him with a smile.

  “I should like it very much if you called me Rothford,” he drawled.

  “I see no need to force familiarity when we are all but strangers, Your Grace.” Eugenia tilted her chin into the air, showing him that she could be just as disagreeable with him as he had been to her.

  “Do you really think so?” His tone was playful as if teasing her.

  The strings struck up the beginning measures of a waltz. Rothford wrapped his arm around her waist and gently pulled her close.

  Eugenia wondered why he had acted so distant toward her earlier, yet he offered her no explanation. What purpose did it serve to encourage her one moment then turn his back and ignore her as he had that very afternoon?

  After their dance, they removed to the terrace, still well in sight of the other guests. Rothford behaved quite gentlemanly while in her company.

  “He was a business associate.” The Duke finally offered to explain his earlier behavior at the library. And Eugenia thought his excuse had come a bit too late.

  “It was quite important. I could not allow myself to become distracted.” He applied a soft kiss to the back of her gloved hand. “I have no doubt that you would most certainly be a considerable distraction to me.”

  His eyes glistened while he charmed her. Eugenia knew exactly what he was attempting to do, and she did her best to fight its affects, but he was succeeding.

  “If you would allow me to accompany you on the promenade tomorrow afternoon, I give you my word that I shall be entirely at your disposal.”

  Eugenia wanted to refuse but could not bring herself to deny him. “Very well.” She turned away to prevent him from seeing her eyes growing moist. Was she happy he wanted to reacquaint himself with her? Or was she relieved that she might mean something more to him?

  “That’s my girl.” He bent over her hand and kissed it again.

  It remained to be seen if she was his girl or not.

  “Now I regret that I must depart. Only duty of a most serious nature could compel me to leave your side.”

  Leave? But he had only arrived. Eugenia wondered why, with his constant comings and goings, he bothered to attend these functions.

  “I did not wish to part when there was unpleasantness between us.” He gave a slight squeeze to her hand and whispered, “And I’m sure we have much more to look forward to in the days ahead.”

  Then he left her. Eugenia watched him walk away.

  She fully planned to speak to Aunt Rose about him. Her dear beloved great-aunt, Eugenia had learned during their time together in Brighton, was not the odd, eccentric, antiquated woman she had once believed.

  In reality, Eugenia had come to learn, not much escaped her shrewd relative. Wise beyond her three and sixty years, she socialized in only the most elite circles and took pride in her refined manner and exquisite good taste.

  Although she may not have followed the rules of propriety—she did tend to have her own standards—she insisted others tread a straight and narrow path.

  Yes, indeed. Her insight regarding the Duke of Rothford would be most appreciated.

  The next morning at breakfast, Aunt Rose set her plate on the table, took up her coffee cup, and remarked, “If I am not mistaken, I believe you met with someone of consequence last night. Do not think that has passed my notice.”

  “I did not think it had.” Eugenia sipped her chocolate and reminded herself that not much escaped her aunt. “I am acquainted
with the Duke of Rothford.”

  “You might have made him known to me. It was not well done of you at all. He should have had your introduction through me. What type of a gentleman dispenses with protocol?”

  “I’m afraid that the masquerade portion of the assembly had emboldened him.” Eugenia was not about to relay the entire truth to her aunt. “He approached me for a dance.”

  Aunt Rose seemed to show a bit of interest. Did she not truly know how Eugenia and the duke had met? And here she thought her dear relative knew everything.

  “Tell me true, Auntie, is that not the precise intent of a ‘masked ball’? For the guest to make the acquaintance of those whom one would not, under ordinary circumstances, single out for attention?”

  With his position, his interest in any woman would have been welcome. To admit Eugenia had with the help of Penelope, gone a step further to discover his identity, and how she had openly flirted with him, again aided by Penelope, would be quite beyond the pale.

  “What concerns me is that His Grace has taken a great deal of interest in you. The Duke has already made several inquiries into your family and background.” Aunt Rose did not look up from her plate when she spoke. “I cannot help but wonder if he is one of those peers with title and his pockets to let.”

  “A fortune hunter!” Eugenia’s cup nearly slipped from her fingers. She was quick to believe that the truth. It would explain his occasional tepid behavior toward her. He only paid attention to her when it was advantageous to him.

  The rogue! He did not care for her in the least!

  “You may not be aware of this, my dear, but your dowry could settle the largest of debts and save a single dukedom with no difficulty,” Aunt Rose remarked, quite unaffected that a rascal such as he was after her grandniece.

  “I have made my own inquiries about this fellow,” she continued. “I can assure you that he is more than financially well-off and possesses several estates. His country seat is in Kent and he resides there several months out of the year. He spends most of his time at his townhouse in Hanover Square, London. It seems he is very eligible and much sought after. Unlike many men of his ilk, his name is not besmirched by women or gaming.”