Devil in Spring

The duke laughed gently. “What a delightful girl.”

They reached the central hall, which was airy and bright, with plasterwork and polished oak flooring. A colonnaded double staircase led to the upper floor, its wide banister rails perfect for sliding. It smelled like beeswax and fresh air, and the perfume of the large white gardenias arranged in vases on pillars.

To Pandora’s surprise, the duchess was waiting for them in the hall. She glowed like a flame in the cool white surroundings, with her gold-freckled complexion and a wealth of rose-copper hair that had been pinned up in a braided mass. Her voluptuous but tidy form was covered in a blue muslin dress, with a ribbon belt tied neatly at her trim waist. Everything about her was warm and approachable and soft.

The duke went to his wife, his hand coming to rest at the small of her back. He seemed to luxuriate in her presence like a great cat. “Darling,” he murmured, “this is Lady Pandora.”

“At last,” the duchess said cheerfully, reaching out to take Pandora’s hands into her gentle ones. “I w-wondered what they had done with you.”

Pandora would have curtseyed, but the duchess was still holding her hands. Was she supposed to curtsey anyway?

“Why did you keep her outside, Gabriel?” the duchess asked, giving Pandora’s hands a little squeeze before letting go. Pandora quickly did a belated curtsey, bobbing like a duck in a mud puddle.

Lord St. Vincent described the mishap with Ajax, emphasizing the dog’s lack of discipline to great comic effect.

The duchess laughed. “Poor girl. Come, we’ll relax and have iced l-lemonade in the summer parlor. It’s my favorite room in the house. The breeze comes up from the ocean and blows right thr-through the screened windows.” A stammer interrupted the rhythm of her speech, but it was very slight, and she didn’t seem at all self-conscious about it.

“Yes, Your Grace,” Pandora whispered, determined not to make a mistake. She wanted to be perfect for this woman.

They began to walk through the staircase hall toward the back of the house, while the men followed. “Now, if there is anything that would make your visit more pleasant,” the duchess said to Pandora, “you must let me know as soon as you think of it. We put a vase of roses in your room, but if you have a f-favorite flower, you have only to tell us. My youngest daughter Seraphina chose some books for your room, but if there is something more to your taste in the library, we’ll switch them out at once.”

Pandora nodded dumbly. After some laborious thought, she finally came up with something ladylike to say. “Your house is lovely, ma’am.”

The duchess gave her a radiant smile. “If you like, I’ll take you on a tour later this afternoon. We have some very good art, and interesting old f-furniture, and some beautiful views from the second floor.”

“Oh, that would be—” Pandora began, but to her annoyance, Lord St. Vincent interrupted from behind them.

“I had already planned to take Lady Pandora on an outing this afternoon.”

Pandora glanced over her shoulder with a quick frown. “I would prefer a tour of the house with the duchess.”

“I don’t trust you around unfamiliar furniture,” Lord St. Vincent said. “It could be disastrous. What if I have to pull you out of an armoire, or God forbid, a credenza?”

Embarrassed by the reminder of how they’d met, Pandora said stiffly, “It wouldn’t be proper for me to go on an outing without a chaperone.”

“You’re not worried about being compromised, are you?” he asked. “Because I’ve already done that.”

Forgetting her resolution to be dignified, Pandora stopped and whirled to face the provoking man. “No, you didn’t. I was compromised by a settee. You just happened to be there.”

Lord St. Vincent seemed to enjoy her indignation. “Regardless,” he said, “you have nothing to lose now.”

“Gabriel—” the duchess began, but fell silent as he slid her a glance of bright mischief.

The duke regarded his son dubiously. “If you’re trying to be charming,” he said, “I should tell you that it’s not going well.”

“There’s no need for me to be charming,” Lord St. Vincent replied. “Lady Pandora is only pretending disinterest. Beneath the show of indifference, she’s infatuated with me.”

Pandora was outraged. “That is the most pomposterous thing I’ve ever heard!” Before she had finished the sentence, however, she saw the dance of mischief in Lord St. Vincent’s eyes. He was teasing, she realized. Turning pink with confusion, she lowered her head. Within a few minutes of arriving at Heron’s Point, she had tumbled on the drive, lost her hat and her temper, and had used a made-up word. It was a good thing Lady Berwick wasn’t there, or she’d have had apoplexy.

As they continued to walk, Lord St. Vincent fell into step beside Pandora while the duchess followed with the duke. “Pomposterous,” he murmured, a smile in his voice. “I like that one.”

“I wish you wouldn’t tease,” Pandora muttered. “It’s difficult enough for me to be ladylike.”

“You don’t have to be.”

Pandora sighed, her momentary annoyance fading into resignation. “No, I do,” she said earnestly. “I’ll never be good at it, but the important thing is to keep trying.”

It was the statement of a young woman who was aware of her limitations but was determined not to be defeated by them. Gabriel didn’t have to look at his parents to know they were thoroughly charmed by Pandora. As for him . . .