Page 1 of The Duke's Promise to Her Child
CHAPTER 1
GIDEON
“Apleasure to see you this night, I am honored you chose our humble ball for the first official outing after your elevation,” a young woman said. She flirtatiously placed her hand on his shoulder. This was, of course, inappropriate, but he couldn’t deny that he enjoyed the attention.
“Well, good evening to you, Lady Sandringham,” he said. She walked past him toward a scowling man whom he knew to be Lord Sandringham, her disapproving, silver-haired husband. Gideon swiftly made his way into the ballroom, not wanting to risk running afoul of the old lord.
In the ballroom, he paused and smiled. This was indeed not only his first ball of the season, but his first as Duke. Who would have thought? He, Gideon Blackwell, would end up a duke. His fortunes surely had taken some odd twists and turns over the past few years.
This specific turn had come courtesy of his ill-fated northern cousin Howard, the former Duke of Blackthorne, whose poor handling of a curricle during what could only be described as a deeply inadvisable race, had seen him dispatched from this world with considerable efficiency.
As he’d been unmarried and without heir, Gideon had suddenly found himself elevated from mere viscount, a title he’d just acquired following his own father’s death, to duke.
He still could scarcely believe it. Six months a Viscount, and now a Duke. The universe certainly had a peculiar sense of humor
“Your Grace,” a woman said at his side, and he turned. He recognized her at once. Lady Clara Hampshire — a blonde-haired, blue-eyed, porcelain-skinned beauty who beamed at him with all the warmth of a drawing room fire. She was the daughter of the Earl of Ballistite.
“How singular to be calling you Your Grace, Gideon. Is it all right if I still call you Gideon?” she said, and stepped back with a small curtsy.
“I wouldn’t have it any other way,” he replied, offering his arm. “You may call me anything you wish. So long as you can direct me toward something other than ratafia to drink. I am not in the least in the mood for it.”
“But of course,” she said. “Come, this way.” Together they made their way through the throng of people, many of whom turned to dip their heads or curtsy. Some whispered, however.
“What a lucky devil he is.”
“I should be so fortunate,” another man replied. “Duke of Blackthorne? Not only has he come into the title, but such a vast estate besides and he was well-heeled already beforehand.”
“I’ll say,” the first man agreed.
Gideon grinned. “I see I am on dit.”
“Indeed, you are,” she said. “The town has spoken of little else. It is always such a diversion when a young new Duke, particularly one who cuts such a dash, enters society. Especially when he remains unattached. The ladies will not suffer that state of affairs for long, I assure you. If they have their way, you shall be leg-shackled again before Michaelmas.”
“Oh yes,” he said, “I had quite a few ladies set their caps at me up north. And I knew full well I should have no chance of escaping such machinations down here.”
The young woman laughed. “No. Not at all — it is far worse here, I dare say.”
They had stopped before the refreshment room and stepped inside. She poured two glasses of whisky, rather more than the two fingers that were standard, and handed him one.
“Let us take a few sips before we return,” she said. “Now, how was it… Durham, was it not, where your estate is situated?”
“Indeed,” he said.
“Durham,” she repeated, as though tasting the word. “No, not at all familiar to me.” She took a generous sip and shuddered. “That goes down like lamp oil, does it not?” She smiled. “Anyhow. No, I do not know the area. I am passingly acquainted with Northumberland; we ride through there on occasion when visiting my brother in Scotland.”
“Ah yes, your brother, how does he fare?”
“You do not truly care, do you?” She tilted her head to one side and flashed him a smile that sent a distinct warmth through him. He and Lady Clara were very familiar with one another, though not intimately. Not that he hadn’t been interested, but she was the sort of lady who valued her virtue more than a moment’s pleasure, and he wasn’t the kind who’d disrespect that.
They had, however, spent a rather glorious weekend together some twelve months past in Edinburgh. A few kisses had been exchanged but most of the weekend had been filled dancing their way through assorted ballrooms and taking place in a hunt they weren’t even invited to. They’d each been escaping from reality. Her from a broken courtship, he from… well. Everything.
He had not seen her since, but that did not mean he would not be agreeable to renewing the acquaintance.
“I see that look in your eyes,” she said. “Do not get any ideas. I am engaged now.”
“Engaged!” He clutched his chest as though felled by the news. “You cannot be serious. What a tragedy for all of mankind. And especially for me.”
Her laugh filled the small room around them. “Oh, Gideon. You are as incorrigible as you ever were and just as charming for it. If my Benjamin were not equally so, I might be persuaded to reconsider. But I digress.” She arched a brow. “So, what brings you back to London? Are you in the market for a wife? Because I could name a few ladies whose caps might be well worth having set upon you.”
