Page 41 of The Duke's Rules Of Engagement
“Her pedigree?”
“Perhaps you’ll recall our conversation about broodmares?” she said archly.
He narrowed his eyes at her but rephrased. “Have you any knowledge of her lineage?”
“She is a niece of the Earl of Wydwick and the granddaughter of the previous earl.”
He nodded, satisfied, and Jo went on. “Miss Cherrington is quite pretty, and she is lively and entertaining in conversation.”
The duke took this in, his walking stick tapping along the cobbles, his back straight, his expression a cool mask. They walked close to each other, and Jo had not been able to stop her breath from catching each time his coat sleeve brushed the velvet sleeve of her spencer. She also hadn’t been able to stop from watching how his black-gloved fingers curled over the top of his walking stick, remembering his fingers bare and open, pulling her toward him, sinking into the hair at her nape…
“All of these ladies sound perfectly acceptable,” the duke said when she’d finished describing all of them. “But I will have to meet them.”
“Of course. I have already made plans for you to meet Miss Cherrington and Miss Islington at Lady Campbell’s ball on Monday.”
The duke’s lips pursed. “You know how I feel about balls.”
“I do,” Jo said sympathetically. “But the balls, soirees, and assemblies—”
“Allof which I dislike,” the duke interrupted.
“All of which you dislike,” Jo agreed, “are the easiest and most accepted ways for a titled gentleman like yourself to meet a potential match in London.”
The duke let out a sigh. “Very well. I will attend Lady Campbell’s ball. I believe I have an invitation.”
“I am certain you do.”
“What about the rest of them?” the duke asked.
“The other three ladies will be in attendance at Almack’s Assembly Rooms on Wednesday. You will attend and meet them then.”
Almack’s was the premier “public” ballroom of London, presenting balls every Wednesday night. Though the venue wasn’t particularly grand and the food so bland and meager as to be a joke, admittance was regulated by a group of society ladies who doled out vouchers based on very strict criteria. A spotless reputation was crucial. Wealth on its own was not enough. A title helped but still wasn’t a guarantee. The patronesses searched for some unmeasurable quantity of all three.
“Will you be in attendance at either gathering?” the duke asked.
“I will be at the ball chaperoning Miss Cherrington. Unfortunately, I do not have a voucher to allow me entry to Almack’s.”
“Why not?”
She smiled. Sometimes he was refreshing. “Because I do not meet the patronesses’ strict criteria for entrance. But do not worry,” she added graciously, “you will. You must apply post haste.”
He scowled. “I should speak with the patronesses regarding your admittance. Lady Jersey is one of them, isn’t she? Who else?”
She waved her hand. “Nonsense, Your Grace.”
“I would like you to be there,” he grumbled.
Those ladies of Almack’s Assembly Rooms were nothing less than dragons who guarded their lair with sharp claws and breath of fire. Penniless, title-less spinster that she was, Jo was fairly certain that a hundred dukes wouldn’t have the ability to win her entry into the place, but she kept that to herself. His words sent a flush of happiness through her, nonetheless. “I needn’t be present for every meeting you have. You will manage well enough on your own. You will dance with each of the young ladies, and then you will report your opinions of each back to me on Thursday at one o’clock.” Seeing the skeptical look on his face, she added, “Easy.”
“It doesn’t sound easy.”
She raised her hand to touch him, thought better of it, and dropped her hand back to her side. “It will be.”
Sidestepping a steaming pile of horse manure on the side of the road, they turned toward Berkeley Square. Jo would need to be sure to keep her distance from him now—this was an elite area of London. People would recognize the Duke of Crestmont here.
They moved on to other topics—his new method of making a rain gauge and how he and Oliver Jameson had raced yesterday in the boat they calledRedand had failed to beat their friends yet again. He asked about her family, and Jo told him about Mama and Lilly, about how her father had seen something in Lilly and brought her into the rectory to be tutored alongside Jo.
“She absorbed knowledge like a sponge, and when my father began to share his passion in architecture with her, something in her latched on to it. She’s absolutely brilliant. Her designs are pure genius.”
