Hugh - Chapter 1

          Hugh was not normally the sort to complain but his patience was wearing thin.

        “I overlooked Miss Brimsley’s snaggletooth, and the Carnegie girl’s limp, but Justin, I’ll be damned if I’ll stroll into Lady Grey’s dinner party with Miss Kimball. I have my pride.”

        Justin made sure the library door was shut tightly and crossed to the bar. “Yes, you have an overabundance of it.”

        Hugh snorted. “Is that rum? If India discovers-”

        “She won’t unless you tell her. It’s merely a sip.”

        “If she looks at me sideways, I’ll spill every shifty thing I’ve done in the last decade.”

        Justin gently set the rum decanter back in the cabinet so as not to produce a tell-tale clinking noise, and settled into his chair before the hearth. “She isn’t just any girl. She’s India’s family, and she feels a sort of responsibility toward her.”

        Hugh scowled as he took the opposite chair. “India’s only living relative is Amelia.”

        “All sorts of persons pop out of the woodwork when a Duke’s marriage is announced in the London Times. Miss Kimball happens to be a third cousin.”

        Hugh stretched out his long frame to prop his Hessians on the fire grate. “Damned unfortunate. I would dearly love to assist her in this matter, but the chit is not my type.”

        Justin smiled. “Yes, your type paces the streets chanting ‘pleasure for five guineas’.”

        “It was one night, and I was heavily intoxicated. Nothing happened because I abandoned consciousness the moment my head hit the pillow. You’ll never let me live that down, will you?”

        “Very likely not. What’s so wrong with the girl? All that is required of you is to dance with her once. No one will expect you to confess your undying love and steal off to Gretna Green.”

        Hugh sighed.

        “Come now. She is not unpleasant looking.”

        He narrowed his eyes.

        “Well, at least she’s not horribly disfigured.”

        The men nearly jumped from their skins when a high voice interrupted, “Justin?”

        Justin hastily downed his ‘sip’ and tucked the glass into a seat cushion, leaving Hugh frowning into the fire.

                                  ----------------------------------------

        “It’s official. Hannah is our ward,” India said, holding her cheeks in her palms and falling to the settee dramatically.

        “Don’t we have to agree first? Isn’t there some sort of hearing?”

        “Don’t be ridiculous. It’s all there in the letter. The Lancasters
refuse to take her back. I am her nearest living relative. Justin, what do I
know of introducing a girl into society? I haven’t even any of my own yet.”

        He sank into a side-chair, racking his brain for some solution which
would mean Hannah Kimball was not now a permanent resident at Durham. “We
could refuse. Someone else will undoubtedly take pity on her.”

        India blinked. “A nunnery - given a sizeable enough donation.”

        “With a generous dowry, perhaps a man would marry her.”

        The pair chuckled a bit at that and resumed their silence.

        “She’s no great beauty, no property and no charm. The poor thing is less
marketable than a three-legged horse,” Justin said.

        India nodded, allowing her gaze to wander to the gardens below where
their subject was strolling in her shapeless brown smock. An irate goose
followed close on her heels, flapping its wings. She swatted at it with her
umbrella, lost her balance and keeled over into the pond. India gasped.

        “Good Lord, that girl is impossible! It might be a blessing for her were
she to drown.”

                            --------------------------------------------------

        Hugh’s nap on the terrace was interrupted by shrieks. He followed the
pitiful wails to the edge of the pond where a green monster was scrabbling for
purchase in the mud. It wiped a layer of algae from its eyes and blinked up at
him in frustration.

        “You might lend a hand instead of gawking,” it sputtered.

        He sunk one shiny leather boot into the muck and reached for its arm,
pinching his nose shut as he did so.

        “Hannah! Gracious, you gave us a start. We saw you from the parlor. Come inside and get these wet clothes off. Thank God you were there, Hugh,” India
said, frowning at the noxious vapors steaming from the girl’s skirts. There
was not one bit of her free from stringy, green pond ooze.

        Hugh chuckled, though somewhat more quietly when the monster from the sea glared and replaced her spectacles on her slimy nose. India hurried her
into the house while the men shook their heads.

        “She’ll knock them dead at Lady Grey’s,” Hugh said.

        Justin sighed. “Just keep her well away from fire, large bodies of water
and sharp objects, and she should be fine.”

        “You can’t be serious - you’re not still expecting me to waltz about
with her on my arm?”

        “What then? Am I to hire someone?”

        Hugh’s smile faded as Justin’s brow lowered ominously.

        “Fifty pounds.”         

        “I shall have to check my calendar. I might be playing cards at White’s
or spending quality time with Madame Delauria.”

        Justin gritted his teeth. “I’m getting the feeling that this is going to
be an expensive favor.”

                        -----------------------------------------------

        “He just stood there like some gargoyle while I nearly drowned. And then
laughing. I hate him.”

        “Now, now, Hannah. You did look quite foolish. And I’m not sure we’ll
ever get the smell out. Louise, please dispose of that gown as far from the
house as possible,” India directed, clenching a lavender pomander beneath her
nostrils as the maid exited, the noxious garment held well before her.

        The creature in the tub sneezed and continued to look pathetic, not yet
aware that her benefactor had abandoned her, and with good reason if the
letter were to be believed. The closing sentence had advised that if Hannah
Caldwell never graced their doorstep again, it would be too soon. The
Lancasters had suffered enough apparently.

        “A buffoon is what he is. I hope I never lay eyes on him again,” she
muttered, wringing out her dingy brown rag.

        India bit her lip. “Lady Grey is giving a ball Saturday evening.”

        “I’m not the sort for such frivolous things. I’d much rather stay in. Go
and enjoy yourself.”

        India pasted a stern look on her face. “You are well past the age of
ignoring such opportunities, Hannah. Tarry too long and the most excitement
you’ll get is training your employer’s children to crouch on the pot instead
of soiling themselves.”

        Hannah frowned. “There’s nothing wrong with being a governess. I am well suited for such a position, in fact.”

        India cocked her head and crossed her arms.

        “I am patient, well learned and I love children.”

        “That would explain the glowing recommendation you garnered from Mrs.
Lancaster. According to her you nearly burned the youngest alive, who now has
night terrors and regularly wets himself. Yes, offers should be pouring in
from prospective parents.”

        “That child is a monster. He lit his own room on fire. It wasn’t the
first time he blamed his mischievousness on me.”

        Setting a chair near the tub, India sat and regarded her new ward with
concern. “The Lancasters will not have you back. You are to stay here at
Durham.”

        “Thank the heavens for that,” Hannah mumbled as she soaped her knees.

        “I expect you to be on your best behavior. And that means you will not
insult our friends, including Mr. Kilroy. You will be civil. And you will
graciously attend the Grey ball. Do not frown at me. At your age, I would have
been delighted, scarcely able to sleep the night before with anticipation.”

        “I am your age,” Hannah replied stonily.

        “Which makes the situation even more awkward. But you have nowhere else to go, and at the ripe age of nineteen, you should either be married or
wishing to be.”

        The girl seemed to be considering this, amusing herself with the ripples
created by her fingertip in the bubbly water. “Maybe I shall make my own way.
Find a profession other than governess.”

        India nodded. “That would be advised, but there are few I would
recommend-”

        “To a bumbling idiot such as myself,” Hannah finished.

        “Not quite what I was going to say. It’s just that there are few proper
professions to engage in for a single woman.”

        “Oh, yes, mistress would be out of the question. I hate men.”

        “The thought had never crossed my mind - the part about hating men is a
hurdle indeed. Why don’t you just forget about this idea of occupation for
awhile, relax and enjoy yourself. You don’t have to earn a living here.”

        Hannah sunk under the tub rim in response and India left the room,
frustrated the girl had so little ambition for things most girls her age
should be giddy about. Certainly the road to love had been a rocky one for
India, but her cousin seemed destined to be a crotchety old spinster
subsisting behind the manor and growling at children not to squash her roses.
India was hard-pressed to think of one attractive quality her ward possessed.

                      ---------------------------------------------------------

        Hugh fidgeted with his cuffs at the base of the stair. Justin was
blocking the exit. It appeared as if he thought his friend might escape before
the debutante made her grand entrance. Hugh had considered it, but Justin was
a hell of a fighter.

        “Oh, Hannah, you look a perfect vision,” India said, glowing with pride.

        The girl did look a vision - a vision of prim, hateful disinterest. Her
stick-straight nondescript hair had been yanked back so hard that her eyes
were tilted, which explained the doleful frown on her pursed lips. A plain
white bonnet knotted under her chin and thin wire-rimmed spectacles completed
her ensemble unremarkably. Likely the other guests would believe he had
misplaced his partner and exchanged her for the scullery maid. Hugh swallowed
uncomfortably and shifted his weight to his other foot before he lost consciousness.

        “Doesn’t she look stunning, Justin?”

        “She could not be any more ravishing if she tried,” he answered, a
muscle in his cheek twitching.

        Hugh nearly choked on his own saliva.
       
                  ----------------------------------------------------------------

        “You might at least pretend not to ogle every other woman in the room
while we dance.”

        Hugh brought his gaze back to his partner. “You are absolutely right. My
apologies.”

        Hannah narrowed her eyes. “Not that I should care, mind you. I find you
utterly unattractive, and I am only appearing with you tonight because my
cousin threatened me with bodily harm should I refuse.”

        Cracking a smile, he replied, “Then we are both in the same boat, my
dear.”

        “I depise men with long hair,” she parried.

        “How fortunate for me.”

        Her eyes darkened. A flush stained her neck, spreading beyond the high
starched collar of her grey smock. “Is the dance over yet?”

        “No, I believe I shall have to endure your pointy shoes crushing my feet
for at least three more turns,” Hugh answered, his gaze averted again.

        One dance and he could escape to the card parlor, Justin had promised.
That or sweep the lovely blonde by the french doors off her feet. Miss Caldwell was wrong. He’d been ogling only one woman tonight, and she was not wearing spectacles or his grandmother’s bonnet. When the music ended, they parted as quickly as their feet could carry them, Hugh with beads of sweat moistening his forehead, and Hannah with a glare that could peel the paper from the walls.

        Justin and India watched helplessly from the sidelines. “Well, that went
well,” Justin said, rubbing his week-old beard.

        India made a beeline for the punchbowl, praying it had been liberally
doused with rum. If she was going to be shackled with this bad-tempered
harridan for the rest of her life, she would need to either re-stock the
liquor cabinet or leave the country in the dead of night. Following two cups
of punch, India decided the second option was sounding more and more suitable.

        Justin cornered Hugh on the terrace.

        “She actually had the ballocks to tell you she didn’t find you
attractive?”

        Hugh shook his head. “I was as flabbergasted as you, my friend. I mean,
really, what woman could glimpse this perfection and not feel an immediate and
overwhelming urge to strip off my breeches and have her way-”

        Justin grinned and held up a hand in surrender. “Let’s leave it a
mystery.”

        Hugh sipped a cognac and gripped the railing with a thoughtful look in
his eyes. “Do you think she hates all men or just me?”

        “I ‘d say she hates all men and you the most. Apparently her father
abandoned herself and her mother when she was very young - never to be heard
from again.”

        Hugh turned to watch the crowd inside, girls blushing behind fans, young
men nervously approaching partners. His eyes were drawn to a particular female
leaning in the far corner, her gaze no longer hostile, almost envious. She
touched a hand to her bonnet self-consciously as she scanned the crowd. It was
too far-fetched to believe. Hannah Caldwell wanted to fit in.