Loving a Fearless Duchess: A Historical Regency Romance Book(87)

Silas closed his eyes and shook his head. “Your attitude, maybe? Do you hear how you sound when you speak? You might want to go in there with less . . . oh, I don’t know . . . with less of a high and mighty attitude. Your attitude smells obnoxious.”

Phin quickly changed the subject. “Are you going out tonight?”

“Yes, Phin, I am.”

“To a ball?”

“Yes.”

Phin looked at Silas. “Care to give me a little more information?”

“No, just that I have decided to attend the Harrington ball even though five minutes ago I couldn’t have been dragged there,” Silas grinned. “It might be quite amusing.”

Silas didn’t particularly like to socialize with the ton. It meant he had to go out alone and deal with single young girls. Silas was the second son. He didn’t need to marry and produce an heir. He much preferred keeping a mistress.

But Silas wanted to see Phin in action. He hadn’t been in London in five years. It promised to be entertaining.

***

When Foster opened the front door, he welcomed Phin warmly. Phin was always appreciative of Foster’s manner. He never did like a stuck up butler. The footmen began unloading Phin’s trunks. Foster informed the men that a few ladies were paying Mercy a call.

Phin asked for a bath to be brought to his room. He turned to Silas, “I’ve been in these clothes for four days, which by the way was the last time I bathed. I will be down to greet Mercy shortly.”

Silas turned and nodded. “Shave,” he whispered. He strolled into the front parlour.

As Phin climbed the stairs, he stopped short. The chandelier. It wasn’t the Waterford crystal chandelier. It was an imitation, the same size. A bad imitation.

He turned to talk with Foster but remembered Mercy was waiting for him. That was far more important.

As Phin climbed the stairs, he heard Silas greet the ladies. He shook his head and thought, Silas had a devil may care attitude that I envied. I can’t afford that attitude now that I’m Duke.’

Once bathed and dressed in an afternoon suit of clothes, Phin headed for the parlour. It was a stroke of genius to send measurements and his wardrobe needs to Giancarlo before sailing home. What a relief, opening his wardrobe door and seeing a full line of up-to-date clothing at his disposal.

Phin entered the front parlour fully prepared to assess the ladies to see if any met his requirements. Instead, Mercy let out a loud gasp and covered her mouth with her hand. She popped out of her seat quickly and ran to him.

All others in the room stood, except a much older woman.

Mercy gave Phin a tight hug that lasted until he took her by the forearms and stepped back to look at her. In the five years he had been gone, she had grown into a beautiful young lady. Her strawberry blonde hair and bright blue eyes had always melted his heart. For the first time, it occurred to him he was gone far too long. He was responsible for her future now. He needed to be by her side.

She took his hand, dragged him to each woman, and made introductions. Phin smiled and sized up the young ladies in the group, searching for a potential marriage partner. They were doing the same with him.

Then he saw her. Mercy turned and introduced Phin to Lady Charlotte Abbott. Charlotte had dark hair and dark smoky eyes. Her eyelashes formed a fringe against the backdrop of her porcelain skin. She was tall and willowy with a graceful swan-like neck. Her smile was bright and full. It made her eyes twinkle. And it was infectious. Without consciously doing it, Phin smiled back.

Was it possible he found the right girl only two hours back on British soil? He hoped so. Charlotte was the closest thing to perfect he had ever seen. The first thing people noticed was her hair. It was curly. It fought the confinement of the pins her maid had put there. It gave the impression it might spring out at any second. Some pieces were peeking out already. He wondered what it looked like down. Her height, her skin, her lovely voice. A woman who had a soft voice he could imagine whispering in his ear and sending chills down his spine, was a woman he wanted to get to know.

They made eye contact, and Phin felt a shiver down his spine. It was at once cold and hot. His blood flowed faster through his body as if it had been watered down. He could not tear his gaze away. He knew she felt something too. Her breath had become shallow.

Phin thought he would find it difficult to transition from Indian women to the women in London. He was surprised it was not so. He liked Charlotte immediately upon meeting her. However, he also sensed she was not what he was looking for. There was an unmistakable liveliness in her eyes.

“Phin, sit here, next to me,” Mercy said, patting the chair beside her. He looked up and turned, at once understanding that there was a gap in time from when Mercy introduced him to Charlotte and when Mercy sat down beckoning him by patting the chair.

He must have looked ridiculous. He gave a small smile and bowed to Charlotte then sat next to his sister. When he looked up at Silas, his brother had his hand over his mouth, no doubt stifling a laugh. Already laughing at his expense. Silas would indeed have fun tonight.

Phin drank tea and looked at Charlotte from the corner of his eye. Phin was encouraged that Charlotte was watching him. If he turned quickly, he caught her looking at him; she looked away, and her cheeks flushed. He wanted to know everything about her. No, he needed to know everything about her. When she spoke, he watched her carefully. But when someone else spoke, he could not look at her directly, but she never left the corner of his eye.