To the teenage girl in all of us

An Apple Pie for a Duke (A very romantic comedy) Delicious Regency by Ruby Royce, Vol. 1

2012 by Ruby Royce All rights reserved

http://www.rubyroyce.com webmaster@rubyroyce.com

Cover photo Ruby by Karolina Fritz

This book is a work of fiction. Names and characters, other than historical persons, are fictitious and any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, is entirely coincidental.

1.

Yorkshire, March 1821

What a mess! Dominic St.Yves, His Grace the Duke of Surrey, opened the wooden door and entered the Red Mill's stable. Coeur de Lion, the Duke of Surrey's favourite horse, whinnied as he heard his master's footsteps approaching. What have you gotten yourself into? Dominic inquired of the exquisite animal, which immediately began to investigate the pockets of its aristocratic proprietor with hungry anticipation. I certainly did not bring you any treats, you vile creature, that very proprietor snarled. We could be hunting at Longmore today had you not gotten it into your head to escape poor Woodrich. Can you actually imagine how his never-ending declarations of guilt are getting on my nerves? Hed throw himself into his sword, if he owned one. Coeur de Lion blew hot air into the duke's face and seemed to regard the issue as closed. Dominic chuckled. Well, what can one expect from--- he stopped and held his breath. Somebody was coming. Without thinking, Dominic climbed up a bolder leading into the hayloft. He hoisted himself over the edge just as he heard the door creaking. He had no intention of being found in a dirty stable, discussing his groom's suicidal tendencies with his renegade horse. The duke was one of the richest and most powerful men in England. One of the most feared! He had a reputation to maintain. The hayloft was dark but there were gaps between the planks through which Dominic could see. He pressed his forehead against the wood to take a look at the intruder. It was a young girl of fourteen or fifteen. Quite pretty, small and maybe a little on the chubby side, but nonetheless, quite pretty. She was dressed simply yet of fine cloth and she had an air of confidence. It led Dominic to believe she was the innkeeper's daughter. No mere serving wench would stroll about so nonchalantly. The girl opened the door to an empty stall and sat down in the straw. She pulled something from her pocket. It was a bottle of wine or some other alcoholic beverage. Was she coming here to drink? Dominic was shocked. He had four younger sisters of his own and he had always believed them to be innocent of all things worldly. Did young girls regularly steal out of their homes to take a secret sip from the bottle? Of course they did not, not those of high birth. Or did they?

The girl lifted her head and listened. Dominic listened as well and indeed, he heard the sound of hooves approaching rapidly. The rider halted in front of the stable. This time, the door was flung open violently. An exquisite pony trotted in, saddled and bridled. Without hesitation it entered the stall where the young girl had been waiting. A young pirate, PIRATE?--- anyway, a young corsair or pirate, wearing his hat in an extremely rakish angle, swaggered into the stable carrying a sabre in one hand an some bundle in the other. Dominic tried not to laugh. Had he hit upon a secret tte--tte? Isadora! The pirate cried out dramatically with an absurdly rasping voice. I shall not force thee to be mine, but I swear, by the end of this kiss, thou wilt be mine willingly! The girl laughed and held out the bottle. Lizzy! You did not! the pirate gasped, took the bottle, pulled off the lid and sniffed. What is it? Cider! And I brought apple pie! The pirate hugged the innkeeper's daughter. Dominic was rather spellbound by now. Not only did the pirate speak in a well-bred manner but also, the voice was not at all that of a young man, rather that of a--- In that very instant the pirate pulled off his hat and let it fall to the ground. Out came a head of golden curls, braided and pinned up in what Dominic found to be quite an artful coiffure. The golden head turned as it sheathed the sabre. Dominic felt his cheeks grow hot and other body parts even more so.

That was the most beautiful and bewitching face he had ever seen in his thirty-one years of life! And he had seen quite a lot of beautiful faces of the female variety, in all shades and colours, but not one had ever bitten, yes, bitten into his soul as the face of this young creature wearing men's clothes in a stable somewhere in... Where am I? Right, Yorkshire. What am I doing in Yorkshire?
Did you bring the book, Gigi? the innkeeper's daughter asked. The beautiful angel nodded.

Angel? Devil? Pirate? Dominic could not yet quite decide what it would be.
Her golden hair and the shape of her face were most definitely angelic, but her slanted, bright green eyes were those of some terrifying demon come to earth to lure him down into the deepest abyss of hell. Yes! Gigi, the insufferably beautiful pirate, produced a book from her horse's saddlebag. The Princess and the Privateer, but you must finish it by tomorrow, else my mother will know I took it when she gets back from London. London... the girl Lizzy sighed. I wished I could go to London and be a debutante... You can go in my stead, Gigi declared while she unwrapped her bundle. The strong smell of apple pie rose into Dominic's nostrils. Not only into Dominic's nostrils, unfortunately. Coeur de Lion sniggered. And again. Then he beat his hoof against the door of his stall. Gigi the pirate looked up. I thought all the horses were out today? Well, yes, Lizzy said. Ours are out. But we have an injured horse stabled. You must take a look. He's magnificent. A stallion! Gigi rose and walked towards Coeur de Lion who looked longingly at the apple pie she had brought along. God almighty! Gigi sighed. What a beauty! What's he doing here? Whom does he belong to? Lizzy, who had begun devouring her apple pie, swallowed and explained. He was on the way to Longmore last week for the earl's great end-of-season hunt but he escaped his grooms and jumped a fence not too far from here. He must have landed in a rabbit hole. He was limping a lot when he came, but hes fine now. Somebody should be coming today or tomorrow to bring him back to Seventree. Seventree? Gigi the pirate took a step back. Obviously she had heard of the Dominic's home; but then again, who had not? Yes! Lizzy nodded enthusiastically. It's the duke's favourite horse! Really... Gigi walked back up to Coeur de Lion's stall. You know, I met him once. The duke.

What? When? Dominic was flabbergasted. Had he seen this creature before? That was impossible.
What? When? Lizzy asked. Dominic immediately forgot how undignified he felt, hiding in a hayloft, watching young girls at their play. He was simply staring down through his little gap, mesmerised. It was a long time ago. Five years, maybe? I spent the summer with my aunt and uncle at Hayford. They never knew I was there when he arrived. I hid behind a curtain.

How appropriate.
What was he doing there? Why was he there?

Yes, why on earth have I been to Viscount Whatwashisnameagain at Hayford?

He threatened to shoot my cousin John. Gigi stroked Coeur de Lions head. Apparently John had made some overtures to one of the duke's sisters. His grace arrived in the raciest phaeton I've ever beheld. He didn't even wait to be announced, he simply stormed into the drawing room and coldly told them that if John was ever to be seen near his sister again, he'd shoot him dead. She smiled to herself. I wish he had. I can't stand my cousin John. What's he like? Fat and ugly. Dominic felt his stomach churn. Lizzy giggled. The duke?

Of course not. The Duke of Surrey is the most handsome man in England. Everybody knows that. Is he really? Well, I have not met too many men, but he is the most handsome specimen I've ever seen. Dominic exhaled, relieved. But he is very scary. And he's quite old I think. Now Dominic felt as if somebody had hit him with a frying pan.

Old? I'm not old. Although I must be old to a silly girl of seventeen or whatever age they let them come out nowadays.
But hes very beautiful and so dangerous and so manly, oh! The duke felt a little better. When he rushed by, all cold rage, I was so afraid he might discover me and shoot me instead! But I also wanted him to rescue me from my boring relatives and take me away to his castle where hed do all sorts of unspeakable thinks to me! Then, to the flustered Dominic's absolute outrage, she fed her apple pie to his prize stallion. Gigi, you can't! Lizzy shrieked. Who's going to find out? Gigi laughed. Do you think the horse will tell its master? Imagine! Do you think he'd punish me? Oh, I wish he would! Like in the novels... She lowered her voice to interpret that of a man. Eugenia... I will let you dwell in eternal agony. She threw herself down to the ground. Oh! Dominic, she pleaded in her own voice. Oh no, forgive me! I never meant to feed this delicious apple pie to your horse! I know it was wrong! Oh, no, NOOOOOO!!! Oh YES!!! She stretched out and raised her arms towards the ceiling. The entranced Dominic noticed that the pirate possessed quite an astonishing body. For a moment he feared he might drill a hole into the plank where his hips were pressing against it as he witnessed that young siren offering herself up to him. You will be my slave, Eugenia... Gigi roared on. And every night I shall devour you! Lizzy laughed helplessly as Gigi rolled back and forth on the floor, moaning and pleading. Oh, Dominic, yes, punish me! Punish me! Devour me! Finally, the vicious creature grinned like a pixie, got back to her feet, dusted herself off and returned to her friend. Let's try the cider, shall we? Oh yes, let's! Although you will taste wine and champagne as soon as the London season starts, while I stay here on bread and water. Poor little Lizzy. Gigi poked her friend into the ribs. Well I don't think I shall drink much when I'm in London. I don't wish to make a fool out of myself in front of all those potential husbands. She wrinkled her nose at the word husband. Lizzy tried a sip of cider and nodded approvingly. You'll have to marry one of them in the end. Indeed. Gigi pulled a face. Maybe youll meet the duke and hell marry you! Dominic stiffened. At least those parts of him, which had not stiffened earlier. I do not think so, Gigi, or Eugenia, or whatever her bloody name is, proclaimed. Yes! Youre so pretty and he isn't married, is he? We wouldve read about that, Gigi conceded. But Im not as noble as that. And anyway, I don't think I'd want to marry him. He's too sinister. Too dangerous. The girls finished the bottle, still giggling. I think I'm feeling a little tipsy now, the devilish Eugenia muttered and wiped her pouting lips. Lizzy took hold of her friend's arm. You must promise me, if he proposes, that you'll accept him! No, you must swear! Gigi wrinkled her nose again. Fine, fine... In the unlikely event of His Grace of Surrey asking me to be his wife, I swear I shall accept.

Swear on Mr. Wimple's life! No, Lizzy. I couldn't! Yes, you can and you will. Swear on it! Eugenia pulled loose from her friend. Alright, Lizzy, I swear on the life of my beloved Mr. Wimple that I shall accept the Duke of Surrey's hand in marriage, if he should ever propose to me. Dominic did not know who Mr. Wimple was but it made him feel uneasy that the life of the poor man should depend on the mood of such a hoydenish female. Lizzy got up. Well, Your Grace, I have to be off. There is plenty work to be done for my sister's wedding and mother will start wondering what has become of me. Yes, you are perfectly right. It'll be lunchtime soon and Papa won't be happy if I'm late. Lizzy saluted in a military fashion. Gigi did the same. Good bye, Lizzy and good bye future husband's beautiful horse. She picked her hat up from the floor, put it back on her curls and dragged her pony out of the stable. Lizzy followed suit. Dominic was alone once again.

He waited a while before he climbed down the bolder and groggily set his feet to the ground. Coeur de Lion watched him with disinterest. The horse still sported crumbs of apple pie on its nose. Traitor, Dominic groaned. Can't you ever keep silent? Don't you know what you've just done?

2.

Seventree, Surrey, April 1821

Did you say London? Elizabeth Barnham, Countess of Chestendon, repeated for the third time as she stared at her older brother in astonishment. You did not say London, did you, Dominic? Did you really say London? What is it, Betty, that you find so shocking about me going to London? I do it all the time. Indeed you do, my dear, but never during the season. You hate the season! Apart from the races of course. But London! Are you finally thinking of getting married? As you well know you should? Don't be ridiculous, Dominic hissed. I have no intention of getting married before Im gouty and old. His sister raised his voice a little. Somebody might shoot you in a duel, Dominic! You might fall off a horse and break a neck! A neck? You have peculiar ideas about my anatomy, Dominic grinned. Elizabeth frowned. You know what I mean. I've yet to meet the man who can surpass me in shooting and the horse that can throw me off. You are arrogant and haughty. To underline her opinion Elizabeth tapped her elegant fan against the tea table.

I'm Surrey. What else would I be? Elizabeth sighed, unwilling to fight with her older brother. She was expecting her third child in the early summer and did not enjoy verbal parrying as much as she used to. Dominic left her to the novel she had been reading before he had intruded upon her to inform her of his decision to move to his London house at Grosvenor Square for the rest of spring.

***

He had finally given in to temptation. Not one day had passed since that bizarre encounter with Gigi the pirate at that horrid inn in Yorkshire when he had not repeated the scene in his mind over and over again. The beautiful girl The way she had moved and sighed his name It kept him awake at night and when he finally fell asleep, his dreams were full of her. He had to see her again to rid himself of that awful spell. Experience had taught him that, often enough, a woman who seemed irresistible at the first encounter was only mediocre at the second.

He had at least found out who she was. She was the Honourable Eugenia Cartwright, daughter of the former General Cartwright now Baron Cartwright, who was a war hero of many battles and second husband to the former Countess of Rivendon. Eugenia was their only child. The Countess Rivendon had lost her first husband and two sons in a terrible coaching accident when Dominic had been only a child. If he remembered correctly, she had even been friends with his late mother. He'd have to ask his man Markston to remind him how to address the remarried widow of an earl who was now married to a baron. Dominic usually prided himself on his impeccable knowledge of social complexities, as was the duty of any peer, but his valet was as is often the case with valets a pedantic connoisseur of the ton and all its intricacies.

Yet, why should I even speak to Countess Rivendon, Baroness Cartwright or whatever she calls herself nowadays? I have no interest in that family. I only want to get rid of my belligerent obsession with her daughter. I can't walk up to her and say Lady Such or Such, I keep having this dream of your beloved virgin daughter riding me astride. There's apple pie involved, too. What's to be done?
He felt the blood rush into his face as his thoughts lingered on the images of that particular dream. Maybe he had been ill that day at the stable. Maybe it had been a fever. Whatever it had been, he would find out and soon.

3.

Bond Street, London, April 1821

The Honourable Eugenia Cartwright demurely kept her eyes down as she walked along Bond Street, accompanied by her mother, her aunt and

several maids. After two weeks of the London season she felt exhausted. The older women had dragged her from one ball to the next, constantly robing and disrobing her, bedecking her with necklaces, scarves and hats. Growing up on a small estate in Yorkshire had been a tranquil experience. Gigis parents had never entertained more than a dozen of close friends. In London everything was strenuous and loud. She wanted to go home but her mother would not let her. A girl had to be introduced into society properly, she had said. And that was that. In her youth, Gigi's mother had been quite an important member of the ton, but these days Mary Cartwright, formerly the Countess Rivendon, hardly ever travelled to London and preferred to stay with Eugenia's father, who was over sixty-five years of age and hated polite society with a vengeance. Puffed up old tarts! he'd call the ladies at Almack's. The debutantes were all decidedly boring and Gigi felt that she simply did not fit in. The young men she had met were very charming but somehow refrained from real conversation. They almost recoiled when she tried to converse with them about their dogs or their horses or, God forbid, literature, philosophy or politics! Her aunt, Lady Tarly, had warned her not to sound like a bluestocking a word of which Eugenia had never heard before. Lady Tarly had advised her to speak only of thinks suitable for an unmarried girl, such as balls, drawing, music and what?

Well, nothing.
Yes, Eugenia could sing, draw and dance, but she did not enjoy talking about it. She wished to know more about the world, about science and history, about far away places, about life! Once she had overheard her aunt complaining to Lady Cartwright that she had let Eugenia get away with strange ideas. Nobody would marry a girl like her. She was very pretty, certainly, but so were many other debutantes who were less... well, less like Eugenia. London life was not for her, Gigi had decided. Above all she missed the company of her truest friend. Mr. Wimple. Nobody could listen to her as patiently as he could. Nobody was as wonderful a companion for picnics in the beautiful Yorkshire countryside.

Oh, my Mr. Wimple. I miss you.

There was not even anything remotely interesting in her aunts library either. She did enjoy the classics but most of all she loved adventure novels. Her mother owned hundreds of them---but pretended not to. Whenever Gigi could, she nicked one of them and dwelled within the magical world of suspense and love. Why, let's have a look at that little bookshop! her mother cried out as if she had heard her daughter's thoughts. Lady Tarly turned her eyes to the heavens but followed her sister-in-law without complaining. Gigi felt her spirits rise. She quickly stepped into the shop and there they were! Shelves full of books, shining and new! What new adventures would they uncover? Gigi's mother began to converse with the shopkeeper who updated her on recent philosophical publications and political works. In that particular moment, Gigi did not care for intellectual books. She had spotted just what she had been looking for in a shelf by a window.

The Sultan one novel was titled. Captured another. Abbey of Shadows a third.
Well, she heard her mother say. Having been to France myself at the actual time, I cannot deny that the aristocracy over there did have certain--- The door flew open. A tall figure in a dark blue overcoat and high hat of the exact same colour, both of the finest cut, entered the shop, followed by another tall gentleman of similar attire, though not quite as formidable as the first. Ah, yerrs... dear little shop, the figure drawled lazily. Need gift f m little sister, seventeen she'll be. What dgirls stick noses into these days, huh? Gigi felt her bowels constrict. She had heard that voice before. Something about it made her feel very strange inside. But where had she heard it? It came to her just as the tall figure turned around to face her. His black eyes were gleaming like those of the devil. They had an almost exotic slant to them. He watched Gigi as if she were his prey. Gigi felt soaring heat rush into her head. She stared at him like a rabbit stares at a snake.

It was he! HIM! For fives years it had been his face she put to the heroes in her novels! For five years it had been him she was seeing in her most secret dreams! HIM! Dominic! His face was a little darker than was the fashion but who cared about fashion when that face was so perfectly... well, what is it?

Perfectly perfect!
Dominic St. Yves, The Duke of Surrey, stood before her in all his glory, most likely come to shoot her in the head. Look, Darl, here's yng lady, he hissed through his perfect teeth. Why dnt ask her? With a few steps he was directly in front of Gigi. She could even smell him. Her heart was racing uncontrollably. Well, Miss, td you commend f grl f yr age? Incent, like yself, presume? thing very comme il faut? Gigi stared at him in utter disbelief. The other man coughed, obviously embarrassed by the dukes behaviour. He addressed Gigi's mother and aunt who had hurried over when they saw their protge coming under attack by a man. Lady Tarly, would you be so kind as to introduce us to the other ladies. I believe I haven't made their acquaintance. Gigi's Aunt appeared to have awoken from a terrible nightmare. Of course, of course, Lady Tarly panted. This is my sister-in-law, Lady Cartwright, and her daughter, Miss Cartwright. May I present to you the Earl of Darlington, and eh, His Grace the Duke of Surrey. The long lost Countess Rivendon! Enchant. Lord Darlington bowed deeply. The sublime creature looming over Gigi slightly backed away and transferred its attention to the rest of the group. This time, he snarled.

Is he really snarling? Is that snarling? What does a black panther do when conversing in polite society? I have no idea.
Yerrs, yerrs... blief 've bin troduced to Lay Tarl, howd'you do... can't member ving pleasuf meeting you, Lay Crtwrght, though blief 've bin quainted with late mother, ven't you. Yerrs... I'm Surrey. Somehow the duke still managed to sound lazy even though he was definitely snarling. It was fascinating! Strange how anybody could even understand what he was saying. But above all, the way he spoke to Gigi's mother and aunt was incredibly discourteous! That was not at all the way to address a lady much older than oneself. Why don't they expel him from the shop, chase him out with a broom? Why do they keep talking to him, the silly old goats? Why doesn't

anybody do anything? They should shun him, cut him, refuse him, right now! That man is dangerous and impossible and most certainly a rake and very, very perfect!
Instead, the shopkeeper stood behind his desk, gazing admiringly at the duke, her aunt smiled an unnatural smile, only Lady Cartwright did not seem overly impressed by His perfectly perfect but impossibly impossible Grace. Yes. I knew Carlotta well, Lady Cartwright nodded. She and I had children of the same age. We had great deal to talk about. She was a remarkable woman and I was very sad about her passing away. You used to look a lot like her, duke, and I can still see the resemblance. Well, a Sforza princess surely leaves her mark on the faces of her children. The duke raised an eyebrow then he gave a little bow. A minuscule bow. The marriage of Dominic's father and Carlotta Sforza had, in fact, been quite a sensation back in the day. A love match. Fortunately, Carlotta had been so beautiful, so highly aristocratic and so immensely rich that nobody could find fault in her. In fact, her family still thought she had married below her prospects by taking one of the richest and most powerful men in England for a husband. He had only been a duke, after all. I believe you've been looking for a book, Your Grace? Gigi's mother proceeded unabashed. I strongly believe in choosing the literature for my daughter myself. There are some books in this world that can cause quite an unbecoming turmoil in a young head, don't you agree, duke? My Eugenia only reads what I consider appropriate, therefore let me make the recommendation for your sister. She strode over to a table of display and lifted a novel called The Birds of Cheltenham Gardens. Gigi groaned inwardly, remembering a lukewarm plot and unbearable moral teachings. A lovely little book. Gigi was quite delighted by it, weren't you?

Again, the dark eyes were on Gigi. Seething. Burning! Quite... delighted. Gigi pressed out the words with the last air remaining to her. Were you..., the duke purred. Purred? Why would he purr? A shiver went through Gigi, she felt dizzy. My dear girl! Her mother cried out. You are not at all looking well, we must go home and you'll take to bed at once! You'll not miss the great ball at Lady Winston's. I'll not have you ill, my little dove. Gigi's cheeks burnt with shame. Yes, she does look feverish, doesn't she, Lord Darlington observed. Eugenia, have you been feeling unwell before? Lady Tarly, who most certainly felt unwell, probed from a little further away. The fact that the duke had once threatened her and her husband over their afternoon tea was still a vivid memory to her. Gigi did not speak. She tried to inhale but her lungs refused her. A few more moments and she would faint! Right there in front of everybody, in front of HIM! Come on, Surrey, we are awaited at court. Darlington patted Surrey on the back. Right, Dominic St. Yves said, turned abruptly and walked away. Out of the door. Out of Gigi's life.

That dreadful man! He scared our little bird so much she forgot to breathe, Lady Tarly whimpered as soon as the gentlemen were out. She held a bottle of smelling salts to Gigi's nose and indeed, they brought Gigi back to full conscious awareness. Everything was as it had been before. Shelves, shopkeeper, her mother, her aunt. Had it been an illusion? A trick of the mind? Then she remembered. Oh Mama, she sighed. Did you really give him The Birds of Cheltenham Gardens? How awful! I think I'm going to die! 4.

Bond Street, London, 5 seconds later

Bloody hell, bloody, bloody, bloody hell! Why me, why this, why me, why me? Why ME?
Would you be so genial as to explain your behaviour? Darlington asked as they rushed down Bond Street. That was unheard of! Dominic said nothing.

Bloody hell! Why me? How did I deserve this?

Surrey? Are you quite alright, man? Oomph. I beg you pardon? Darlington grabbed Dominic by the arm, forcing him to stop. Have you gone insane? We're walking into the wrong direction! My men are waiting for us with the carriage by the park. Where are you heading? I love her, Dominic whispered What did you just say?

Dominic wailed. I love her, gods be damned! Whom? What? And keep your voice down, Darlington hissed. What is the matter with you? What was the business with yerrrs Im narrgnt prick all about? I love her, Dominic repeated and wondered how Darlington could not have seen it. Actually, just as he had entered the bookshop, he had been gripped by a sudden fear: Darlington would fall in love with Gigi too, and she with him, and they would be married and have children and live happily ever after while Dominic would drink and whore himself into an early grave. Yes, you said so. It seems to be the only thing you'll say for the rest of the day. Thank Goodness. Darlington dragged Dominic along, but very carefully. The Duke of Surrey was not the kind of man one would drag along bodily. Why don't we turn around and head back to the carriage. It'll take us to court, where, in case you forget, we do have an appointment with the King. Remember him? Formerly the Prince Regent? Charming fellow. Ruler of this great nation, by the way. No! We can't go back! Dominic was terrified. We can't go back! We can't go back where? We can't go back THERE! He pointed towards the distant bookshop. Why ever not? Because, I love her. Yes, but whom? Her! Countess Rivendon? I grant you, she's a beautiful woman but I believe she must be nearing fifty. We did have our share of belles d'automne, but you shouldn't go that far, now should you? I didn't even know you'd met her before, much less that you had a secret liaison with her. Isn't her husband rather the military type? I heard Lackerby mention General Cartwright from time to time and I remember there was always a certain amount of fear in his voice whenever he--- Oh shut up! Dominic took off his hat and wiped his forehead with his handkerchief. Not her! Lady Tarly then! Are you a pervert? Dominic glared at his friend. Do you wish to die, Darlington? Because I'm about to strangle you. No, Darlington granted, but you can't be serious, if what I think is true. And what do you think? I think you shouldn't be hankering after debutantes. Darlington gave his friend a pitying smile. I'm not hankering, I love her! Dominic felt an urge to punch his old chum in the stomach. Yes, yes. One minute in a bookshop and you love her. Darlington kept holding on to Dominic. You must be getting really old if a pretty face and some golden curls can heat your blood as much as that. She's pretty, yes, if you like the type, which you do, but she's also a shy, boring little deb. She didn't say a word. But, well, considering the impression you made--- Yes she did! Dominic shouted fiercely. She said delighted! Didn't you hear? And she's not boring. Not boring at all! You're completely ignorant. You don't know her one bit! Oh, but you do, of course, you saw her entire being in the blink of an eye and now you're deeply committed. Her parents will be, let's say, dlighted, at the prospect of their daughter becoming a ditchiss to apply your new manner of speech. --- I think you ought to have a glass of Madeira. Or something stronger. I met her before! Now Darlington stopped. Don't tell me you're having an affaire with her! No, no, no, of course not, Dominic moaned. She doesn't even know I saw her. Ever! I was.... well, in hiding. Could you be bothered to explain, my dear Surrey? The duke put on a stern face. No, I can't. And now, stop pestering me, please. --- I'll wait right here and you'll get the carriage. Pick me up at the tailor's across the street. Darlington shook his head but walked back on his own.

Dominic crossed Bond Street and was almost run over by a curricle.

Why ME?

Darlington and Surrey had only come to Bond Street to pick up an elegant neck cloth a gift for his majesty. On their way back to Darlington's carriage something had caught Dominic's eye in the window of a bookshop. There she stood, like an epiphany, the beautiful pirate girl, gazing up at something hidden from his view. Without further ado he had marched into the shop to rid himself of his idiotic infatuation. But as soon as he had looked at her he had been on fire. All he had been able to think of had been her words... devour me, punish me, oh yes, oh Dominic. He wanted to take her right there, against the bookshelf. But realisation hit hard. She was, indeed, a young debutante. Beautiful, sparkling, vibrant but innocent.

In a bookshop with her mother and her aunt, for heaven's sake, and I might've deflowered her on top of Robinson Crusoe! --- Why, wouldn't he have enjoyed that? Poor man, all alone on that desolated island and such a beautiful creature as my Gigi naked on the beach, pleading, her breasts lightly covered with sand, and her... Oh, shut up, Dominic! You're such a decrepit man!
He, Dominic St. Yves, was simply not in the habit of conversing with innocent girls and their silly withering relatives. The women he usually frequented were of a different kind. Experienced. Educated. Entertaining. Not accepted in polite society, but what did he care? He was Surrey. He did what he wanted.

But I want HER!

After all, he could simply show up at her house and propose marriage. Who would turn him down? He was Surrey! He was the dream of mothers all over the land! He was the dream of their daughters, too! And he was hers, as well, wasn't he? She had sworn on the life of Mr. Wimple to marry him if he proposed, so what did he fear? Who was this Mr. Wimple anyway? Her lover. He must be her lover! But this Mr. Wimple has nothing on me! I'm the greatest catch in the land! Or wasn't he?

Too sinister. Too old. --- I'm only thirty-one, that's not old! She's young, yes, but my sister married a man who's even twenty years her senior and she's in love with that Barnham person! Young girls marry older men all the time, most of them are certainly not content with it, but then again, that irritatingly handsome and clever husband of Betty's looks as fresh as a boy just out of Eton and he's a miracle of virility, that marvellous earl. Whereas I'm haughty, bored, arrogant and unfriendly. My virility is fine, though. Or is it? They call me a rake, don't they? Well, I guess I AM a rake. I bloody well may be, I am Surrey!
Dominic shook himself to clear his mind. The tailor gave him a reproachful look but as soon as he had identified his unruly customer, the reproach instantly changed into a benevolent smile. Your Grace. The tailor bowed. What an honour. I shall immediately call for all my assistants and close the shop for Your Grace's exclusive disposal. Outside, Darlington's carriage drew up. Dominic walked out on the tailor without a word.

Have you calmed down? Darlington asked as the duke climbed in. What? Yes. No. I don't know. Darlington pulled out a drawer from underneath the seats. He brought out a bottle of wine and two glasses. You scared the little bird to death, that's all I can say.

I did, didn't I? Dominic gazed out of the window. Yes. What am I to do? Forget her. You shouldn't be in dabbling with innocent girls. Darlington handed him a glass. Why not? Because you are haughty, arrogant, impulsive, reckless, and moody. To be frank, you're quite abominable. Why on earth are you my friend? Dominic asked waspishly. Because you're rich. Good point. You know the most beautiful women. True. And... Youre rich. Amen. They cheered. But as they drove towards the palace, Dominic made a resolution. The next time he, Dominic St. Yves, the Duke of Surrey, Marquis of Thorne, Earl of Surrington et cetera et cetera, met Miss Eugenia Cartwright, he would know how to behave himself. He would be ducal. He would be regal. He would be perfect!

5.

London, ten hours later

The Birds of Cheltenham Gardens! Why, oh why did my mother have to give him that book, of all things? He must think I'm deficient! He must think I'm duller than stone! And him so utterly perfect and marvellous... with his shining dark hair and his fiery eyes and his splendid form! His skin, so smooth and so flawless! Oh, and his mouth, ye Angels, his mouth is phenomenally beautiful, as beautiful as his nose! His chin so ideally made, like the statue of a roman god... and how tall he must be! Very... Very, very tall! And very strong... And his voice and his speech, so sharp, so clear, so male! But... BUT! The Birds of Cheltenham Gardens! THE BLOODY BIRDS OF CHELTENHAM GARDENS!!! I hope he'll not read that literary abomination, but of course he will, he'll have to check if it's proper for his sister, and when he does, he'll think I am stupid! And I am! Why couldn't I say something clever? He'll think that I actually LIKE stories of dull young girls befriending birds and feeding them crumbs! Didn't I say I'd been delighted? Why didn't he shoot me in the head?
Gigi had been rolling around in her bed for the past eight hours. On the way home she had been crying her eyes out while her aunt had kept on shrieking That dreadful man, that dreadful man! We're lucky your father isn't here, Darling, was all her mother had managed to say. We're lucky your father isn't here. When finally in bed, Gigi had imagined with inexhaustible creativity how the Duke of Surrey would be reading The Birds of Cheltenham Gardens. Perhaps, he had begun reading it right away, perched on his phaeton, driving through the streets of London at neck-breaking speed, standing up, one hand holding the reins, the other hand holding the book. Or, he had waited until he had gotten to his undoubtedly elegant house at... well, wherever dukes lived... He had sat down at an exquisite tea table

surrounded by footmen in gold livery; he had opened the book and choked on his tea. If he drank tea at all. No, that was not attractive; he probably drank something much stronger. Brandy. Certainly brandy... and he sniffed from a diamond-encrusted sniff-box. In yet another version of her fantasy he smoked the most expensive tobacco from an extremely long pipe in the boudoir of some exotic princess who most certainly was his lover. But all these colourful visions had one thing in common. He read the first few paragraphs and came to the conclusion that Miss Eugenia Cartwright, in the unlikely case he remembered her name, was utterly dull and as stupid as an ox. Sh caaahnt pssbly bcme thditchiss f Srry, he would snarl and sniff some more.

I'm doomed! I'm dooohoooohoooooomed! But why do I even care? Hes the most aristocratic arse to have ever walked the British Isles. I could never like him. Ts Mpssbl!
Gigi felt more tears rolling down her cheeks. When she finally fell asleep, she dreamed of Dominic St. Yves feeding the birds at Hyde Park, wearing a light-blue dress. She kept wondering why he had not chosen a yellow one.

He should wear yellow with such a complexion.

At last, she drifted into darkness.

She awoke the next morning with a feeling of dread and never wanted to set foot outside her aunt's house again. By then, everybody in town knew of her deficiency, for sure! Men would be roaring with laughter over breakfast, reading of her love for The Birds of Cheltenham Gardens in the newspapers. Mothers would warn their children about her. Do not talk to Miss Cartwright. She's not right in the head. But, much to her surprise, nobody seemed to care about her when she eventually did leave the house. In the end, the older women had succeeded in forcing her out and made her join them on their morning walk in Green Park. Still, every second Gigi expected the Duke of Surrey to materialise in front of her, majestically seated atop his majestic black stallion, pointing his long, elegant finger at her. Yerrs, thershs, thignornt wench! Yet, the Duke of Surrey was nowhere to be seen. He had gone back to the country, Gigi supposed. Perhaps he had gone to Paris or even to the West Indies.

I'll never see him again, ever! Nothing good ever happens to me!
Gigi knew her thoughts were ungrateful considering her extraordinarily comfortable life but she felt she had the right to pity herself. Just a little bit. Later that same day, though, something good did happen to Gigi. She made a friend.

6.

London, while Miss Eugenia Cartwright was dreaming

Dominic left court sometime around midnight. His carriage raced outrageously fast through the London streets. Dominic hardly noticed. He was beyond drunk. But something kept pushing him into the side. Something that simply would not go away. He finally reached into his pocket and found a rectangular object.

What on earth...?
Then he remembered. It was that wretched book! He wrestled it out of his coat.

The Birds of Cheltenham Gardens. An educational libretto for young ladies. Hear hear. If Lady Cartwright only knew...
He threw it out of the window.

7.

Surrey, a few days later

Dominic St. Yves was in a wretched mood. He kicked Coeur de Lion into the sides to make the magnificent horse run faster. He would not lose this race to Lackerby, not on his life. Dominic never lost at anything not his most popular trait but he did not care about being popular. He cared about winning. Coeur de Lion was a horse without equal, but strong and wilful. Only the best horsemen in England could reign such a forceful animal as the duke's black stallion. Of course, the duke counted himself among them and justly so.

He was, indeed, the first to arrive at the meeting point, leaving Viscount Lackerby far behind. Lackerby, an excellent horseman himself, rode up on his light-footed thoroughbred mare that had given her best to compete with Coeur de Lion. But Dominic had calculated his horse's strength better than Lackerby had. The mare was wet with sweat and her pumping nostrils proved that she was thoroughly out of breath. She's a good girl, Dominic granted. Yes, yes. Lackerby grinned, although his attractive face showed signs of strain. She's a fighter, but against your black monster, there's nought to be done. Dominic chuckled but he did not feel merry. He felt angry. Angry with himself for being out of control. Angry with the world for testing him so. Nothing he did was without an ulterior motive anymore. He had asked Lackerby to ride with him because he liked Lackerby, yes; he had done so ever since they had been at Eton together. They often went to the races together. They frequented the same clubs and they even had certain female friends in common. Lackerby was a wealthy man, if only a Viscount. He was one of the few who could afford to share Dominic's exquisite tastes. Yet... on this grey English morning, Dominic had not asked Lackerby out for sport. It was only a ruse. No. He had other motives. Some years ago, Lackerby had been fighting in the war against Napoleon. Later, his older brother had died of a fever, so Lackerby had inherited the title. Still. He had been to France and Flanders under General Cartwright's command. In the past Dominic had never wanted to hear the wartime stories, they made him feel secretly ashamed of himself for not having participated. Of

course, a Duke of Surrey with no heir could not risk his life in battle as much as he would have wanted to. Didn't you bring her from Brussels as a filly? Dominic started his inquiry. This mare? Lackerby frowned. 'Course not, Surrey, she's hardly five years of age. Surely, you must've seen that! Really...? Dominic tried a different approach. Thought I'd heard something like it. Must've mixed it up. Heard about some general of yours being quite the enthusiast for thoroughbreds... Ol' Carty, you mean? Lackerby smirked. Man had an eye for a horse, I tell you. Eye for a woman too. Wife's an absolute stunner, you wouldn't believe it... he's quite an old boar, he is. Made hundreds of thousands of pounds in the war. All booty. But an eye for a horse he has. Would keep all the good ones to him self. I believe he breeds them somewhere in the remote provinces nowadays. Why? Want to get in touch? Bet ol' Carty owns some nice mares who wouldn't mind to have a filly sired by your Lion... Perchance... I've been looking for a worthy partner... for my horse, Dominic stated, pretending a certain disinterest. What's he like that ol' Carty. Nice enough fellow? Lackerby laughed. Who? General Cartwright? He laughed even more. Was it such a funny question? Lackerby drew a deep breath and smiled confidently. No, no. He's quite alright. A little rough around the edges as these military types tend to be, but if you know how to take them, like I do, you're getting along just fine. Never had any trouble with Ol' Carty, not me --- but I have to tell you about this redhead I met, a new dancer at the opera, marvellous creature! Not as beautiful as Ol' Carty's wife. Now that's a different story... Dominic saw no reason to push Lackerby any further. Obviously, Darlington had mixed something up when had told the duke how Lackerby had always spoken so fearfully of Gigi's father.

Gigi. Tonight, he would see her again. For the first time in his life he would go to a ball for debutantes. He had instructed his valet Markston to lay out his finest suit, hat, handcuffs and other manly ornaments. Never had a duke looked more ducal than he would at Lady Winston's insipid ball! Eugenia simply had to faint into his arms upon seeing him in all his manly splendour. He pictured her sighing, falling! He would carry her across the dance-floor, out into his waiting carriage, drawn by eight black horses. Lackerby had not noticed his companion's dreamy expression and proceeded to chatter about Lady Cartwright's beauty. That wife's a stunner. Some countess she was, but don't ask me names...

***

They reached London in the early afternoon. Dominic's heart beat violently as he ran up the stairs into his dressing chamber. A bath. He needed a bath! He rang bells and shouted through the house until the servants brought the tub and filled it with hot water. After he had stewed for almost an hour, he shouted again. This time, Markston showed up with a razor and a few other devices for grooming His Grace's most eminent person.

At six o'clock, Dominic's preparations were completed. He critically inspected himself in the looking glass and found faults beyond counting. Markston did his best to remedy these and by seven, the duke could not think of anything else to be improved. He helped himself to one or two, maybe three glasses of brandy and shouted for the carriage.

On his way to Lady Winston's he strengthened his ducal resolve. He sat up straight. He practiced his manliest voice and his most charming smile. The carriage briefly stopped to pick up Darlington at his Mayfair residence. Surrey, you blind me! Darlington exclaimed. Shut your mouth or I'll do it for you, Dominic growled. Do I look alright? You could look like an old divan, Surrey, nobody would mind! You're Surrey, fterll! Dominic nodded and meditatively repeated to himself that he, indeed, was Surrey. At Lady Winston's house Dominic languorously wafted past the footman at the door who was left standing there with his mouth hanging open. Hes Surrey, Darlington explained laconically.

Inside, Dominic instantly began to browse through the crowd like a panther would browse through the jungle, stalking its prey. He saw several familiar faces but he could not be bothered to greet anybody. As always, Darlington was in charge of being polite to other people. Dominic did not even notice the outcries of surprise at his arrival, the exclamations of delight by mothers and daughters alike, the whispered Surreys and dukes behind his back.

Finally he spotted Lady Cartwright and Lady Tarly deep in conversation with another lady of whose identity Dominic was ignorant and intended to remain so. Luckily, they were standing next to a wide column so Dominic positioned himself behind it to eavesdrop. She's exquisite. Exquisite. She'll find a husband in no time, the unknown lady babbled. Quite. Lady Cartwright agreed without appearing to actually do so. Oh, but little Flora Parker will have a hard time. She is pretty, yes, nice blue eyes, dark curls, but tiny! I hear her character is not the best either. Lady Tarly fanned herself energetically. Yes, Delilah, it is as you say! But Mary's daughter seems to find her remarkable. They've been inseparable since our picnic at Windsor three days ago. They pay long visits to one another and neglect everything else in the world. The woman named Delilah arched her brow. Mary, Mary. Now your daughter is by far the best looking girl this season but she's not fetching! She's pushing the young men away. She is scaring them off! Nobody can actually be as bored as she pretends to be. Instead of plotting mischief with Miss Parker she should be dancing and smiling. Nobody wants a grumpy wife. Well, it's not as if you needed the money, from what I hear you husband has prospered--- We're doing perfectly fine, thank you Delilah, Lady Cartwright interrupted with an insincere smile. Cartwright is coming to London, Lady Tarly informed the other woman. Oh, is he? Delilah was evidently not sure what emotion to convey. Yes, Lady Cartwright smiled. His letter reached me this morning. We're expecting him and Mr. Wimple on the morrow. Mr. Wimple's in an awful temper when Eugenia isn't around. My husband couldn't endure it anymore and decided to take him to London. Sometimes I think Mr. Wimple's master in my house.... Nevertheless, it'll be a wonderful surprise for my daughter. She's been mourning Mr. Wimple's absence ever since we left Yorkshire.

Mr. Wimple! Again, this Mr. Wimple. I'm going to drown Mr. Wimple in the Thames! She swore on his life that she'd marry ME if I ever proposed, but she won't even have to make the sacrifice because that fine Mr. Wimple will be in the ground already!
Dominic stepped away from the column to recover from an overwhelming feeling of jealousy. He took a glass of champagne from a tray and gulped it down. Three brandies had not been enough to mellow him. At least not enough to endure a laudatio on Mr. Wimple. He scanned the guests. Eugenia Cartwright was nowhere to be seen.

It was sheer luck when he eventually discovered her. In fact, somebody else had spotted her before him. Several somebodies. At one point, Dominic noticed that rather a lot of young men were conspicuously gazing out onto the lit terrace, all of them focussing on the same spot. Dominic, like all men in love with a woman, believed that all other men were in love with that same woman, too. It was only logical to him that these lechers were staring at his beloved Gigi. He advanced towards a window and found he was right.

Gigi the pirate was sitting in an alcove, surrounded by flowers. There was some other girl with her whom Dominic did not trouble himself to look at. He had eyes only for her. She was even more supreme, more divine, more everything than before! How could this ball take place around her, when all mankind should do was praise her? Dominic checked himself. He had sworn he would behave properly, no extravagant displays of drama were asked for, only calculation. He had always been able to keep a cool head in the most difficult situations and now this ability was needed more than anything. The duke straightened himself once more and surveyed the ballroom. How could he create a chance meeting with his adored Miss Cartwright? She would have to get out of that alcove sooner or later, would she not?

Yes, I'll stand over there by the door to the garden, looking into another direction. Once she comes back in again, I will, quite by accident, collide with her and she'll faint and I'll carry her into my carriage... which is only drawn by four horses today and none of them black. Never mind. I shall devour and punish her naked body for the rest of time in my dark and gloomy castle at, err, Grosvenor Square...
Dominic carefully manoeuvred himself to his strategic post. Immediately women, young and old, were pushing towards him. Suddenly there were only women within a radius of thirty feet, arching their necks, lifting their cleavages, fluttering their lashes and smiling, smiling, smiling.

It was at times like these Dominic was most grateful to be the Duke of Surrey. Nobody dared to address him, not even people to whom he had been introduced. Oh, it was good to be him; people feared him, left him alone, admired him from a distance but were too cowed to--Why Surrey, my boy, a baritone voice intoned right next to him. What a pleasure to see you. Dominic's head snapped around. It was the Hugh Percy, formally known as His Grace the Duke of Northumberland. Northumberland! Dominic croaked. Nice ball, don't you agree my boy? The older duke smiled benevolently. Nicest one this season. I beg your pardon, but I couldn't tell. It's my first. There were only a few men in England who commanded Dominic's respect. Northumberland was one of them. Come to find a bride, eh? It's high time. Dominic felt heat rising below his neck cloth. Control yourself, Dominic! No, not at all, he said calmly. My sister Clara will be coming out next year and I regard it as my personal duty to oversee her debut. I personally inspect the venues she might go to and the people she might frequent. I'm a strong believer in the supervision of the young. Northumberland was not one to give up easily. But there are so many lovely girls for you to pick from! Look. That brunette there. She's the daughter of an earl! Pretty and wealthy, too. A little too young, maybe? Dominic grinned and finally felt the effect of the brandy and the champagne. That brunette Northumberland had pointed out was indeed an especially pretty girl. He smiled. Northumberland poked him in the ribs and said nothing. No, seriously, Northumberland, Dominic declared confidently. I don't have the slightest intention of getting married. Just then, another familiar voice, a female voice, came from behind. Pardon me, Your Grace. Would Your Grace be so kind and let us pass?

8.

London, same time and place

I have no tolerance for balls, Flora said. They are crowded and stuffy. How's one supposed to find a spouse in all this noise? I'd like to know my future husband's voice before I married him, wouldn't you? You are very rigorous, Flora, Gigi disagreed. You must make them talk while you're dancing. I've developed a catalogue of questions and I call it the Cotillion Questionnaire. It covers philosophy, botany and literature, as well as geography and Latin. It has never failed me. Flora beamed at Gigi. I believe it never failed chasing men away. Exactly! Gigi laughed. Why does one have to get married anyway? Flora asked cynically. I think I'd enjoy being a spinster. I could be somebody's lady companion and spend my days in Bath, reading novels and taking the waters. She put on an exaggeratedly straight-laced face. Gigi twinkled at her friend in complete understanding. Oh, what a wonderful life that would be! But now, I believe we had better go back inside. Our mothers will notice our extended absentia from the dance-floor. Mine keeps insinuating on how much she hates coming to London and how she had done it for my benefit alone. I have to keep up appearances and at least pretend to be, well, husbanding. Husbanding. Flora wrinkled her nose in thought. I like that word. Tally ho, let's go a-husbanding. Hurray!

They got up and ignored the array of young gentlemen courteously bowing to them. Two more men who were watching the girls twirling within blocked the entrance to the ballroom. One was of medium height and balding. The other one was--- the other one was--- THE OTHER ONE WAS--- Help! Lady Serena Locksley was dancing right in front of the delicious Dominic and had drawn his attention. Gigi's head was instantly on fire. Her stomach too. Needles. There are needles in my heart! I will bleed to death! A little too young maybe? The duke chortled. For an instant the two men standing in front of Gigi were silent, then Surrey said No, seriously, Northumberland. I don't have the slightest intention of getting married. His words felt like a cold shower.

So, Dominic, you dont want to get married, well, since Id never marry you anyway, I couldnt care less, you puffed up pompous--- what happened to your accent anyway? Where did the vowels come from?
Gigi braced herself. She had seen and heard enough! How they had ogled that stupid cow Serena Locksley!

Blah blah blah, a little young maybe, a little young maybe! Keep your big mouth shut, Dominic St. Yves, you disgusting lecher!
Of course he was a disgusting lecher, how nave had she been? He was a known rake who frequented opera singers and ballet dancers. He was the favourite subject of gossip in the kingdom's drawing rooms. Everybody suspected him to be the most wicked and corrupted libertine who spent more time in Paris than anywhere else. Gigi alone had believed him to be a lonely wolf, her dark and broody hero, who hid a noble heart behind a nimbus of darkness.

Oxymoron! Nimbus of darkness. I'll have to remember this one--- wait. Hold on! How can I think of oxymorons NOW? I must be ill! Seriously ill! It's all his fault. He infected me at that bookstore, no; he infected me years ago, when I was only a child! But not anymore, Your Grace, not anymore! I'll stand against you and your forces of hell, now and forever will I hold the flag of resistance high! Until my dying day shall I defy thee, Satan! I'm the daughter of a great commander and I'll prove myself worthy. Engarde, Your Grace! For England!

Pardon me, Your Grace. Would Your Grace be so kind and let us pass?

Not too bad. A little squeaky, but firm. That's done. What now?
The dark eyes were on her now but Gigi was prepared. He stepped aside. He bowed. Lady Eugenia. His voice was deep and soft. It touched Gigi's core like sheer silk touches naked skin. What had happened to hissing and snarling? And his perfect eyes, they looked so tender, so soft, almost as soft and tender as those of Mr. Wimple!

I shall not falter! I shall not fail!

She took Flora by the hand and nodded primly, then she walked until she had reached the other end of the ballroom. You know him, Flora whispered hysterically. Truly, you know him? Why haven't you told me? I only just met you! Gigi tried to get her thoughts back in order. It would have been the first thing you should've said to me, Flora insisted. It's a pleasure to meet you, Miss Parker, I personally know the Duke of Surrey. But I don't! He attacked me in a bookshop, he doesn't even know who I am! Hes the most supercilious man in the world. Flora stared at her. He didn't know who you were when he said Lady Eugennnniaaaaaaah? She mimicked the duke quite well, Gigi thought. And he didn't know who you were when he said, I'm the most handsome man in England, I'm the richest man in England, I'm the tallest man in England, look at me, Lady Eugennnniaaaaaaah? He didn't say that! Flora shook her head in despair. Gigi frowned. I'm sure he's not the tallest man in England. He's not much taller than the others. Of course not! I was only jesting, Flora hissed. He wants to shoot my cousin! We shouldn't let ourselves be hindered by trifles, dear. Or rifles, for that matter. Why did he call me Lady Eugenia? The correct address is Miss Cartwright. He's such a snooty ass. He's a beautiful ass. And he's coming. What? Gigi gasped. She glanced over her shoulder. Dominic St. Yves was slowly advancing, making his way through the crowd. What does he want from me? Oh, I'm sure it's about that wretched book. What book? My mother gave him a book for his sister and she told him I had enjoyed it. Now he'll let me know how stupid he thinks I am! Dear Gigi, Flora admonished. You can't seriously think that one book could give him that idea. He'll think what all other men think. That you are the most beautiful girl in the room. It was The Birds of Cheltenham Gardens, Gigi whimpered. Ouch, Flora grimaced. That's another matter then. Well, good luck to you. Here comes.

The duke halted in front of Gigi. Miss Cartwright. Would you honour me with a dance? Gigi felt Flora's eyes on her. In fact, all eyes were on her, not only those of Flora. But Gigi had other problems.

I'm poised, I'm strong. If he wants to dance, let's dance!

I would, Your Grace, Gigi said. He took her by the arm and lighting struck her, but she had clad her heart in iron and her hands in gloves. She was safe. The orchestra played a waltz. Of all dances, it had to be a waltz! Miss Cartwright, I wish to apologise for my behaviour at Bond Street, the duke said in a matter-of-fact non-snarling manner. I'd been under some pressure that day, I hadn't meant to take it out on you. Somebody must've reproached him for having behaved so rudely! Have you, Your Grace? Gigi tried to sound like her mother speaking to the vicar back home in Yorkshire aloof, yet conciliatory. I hadn't even noticed. In fact, I'd already forgotten the incident, there were so many fascinating books in that charming little shop.

Good Lord, his hand's on my back! Help! I want him to abduct me and take my innocence in a storm! We shall live in the West Indies, making love in the sun, day and night--- well, in the moonlight at night, I think. There's no sun at night, is there?
Yes. Indeed, the duke cleared his throat. I'm to express my sister's gratitude. She particularly enjoyed the book your mother recommended.

The Birds of Cheltenham Gardens? Is his sister an imbecile?

How very kind of her, Gigi smiled mildly. Quite an effort! Send her my regards. For a few twirls they said nothing. Is London to your liking, Miss Cartwright?

Oh devastating Dominic, the way you smell is to my liking!

Yes, Your Grace. It's very different from home. Yorkshire is a pleasant county.

How does he know I'm from Yorkshire?

Yes, it is, Your Grace. I've only recently been there.

Really? Yes, I remember, the horse had been on its way to Longmore.
How interesting. Have you gone to Yorkshire for hunting, Sir? The devastating Dominic looked down at her. One corner of his mouth went up a little as if he was about to smirk. Yes. There are formidable hunting grounds in Yorkshire, Gigi stated, still envisioning her mother with the vicar. Indeed. He did not say anything after that. She could not think of anything either. She carefully glanced up at him but he gazed into the distance.

How can one man be this rude? Just when he started to seem at least halfway human. I'm glad I'm holding my own here. I shall simply gaze into the distance as well! I simply have to remember to be aloof and poised at all times.

But Gigi should have remembered something else. Again, the duke's proximity had caused the same effect as it had in the bookshop. Only this time, Gigi had not noticed. Whilst concentrating on remaining aloof and poised, there was one thing she had not done. She had not breathed. She fainted.

9.

London, etc.

I must not look at her! I can control myself until this dance is over but then I'll go. Else I'll carry her out into the garden and compromise her behind the rhododendrons like a rabbit. But why is she so distant? Doesn't she remember what she said about me in the stable? She's so poised and cool while I'm burning with love for her. Can't she see how much I want her? If I drew her just a little bit closer she could actually feel how much... if I simply pressed my hips against her... but then she might really--She fainted. Dominic felt her sinking down. Instinctively, he lifted her up. A shocked murmur went through the crowd. That dreadful man! A women shrieked. Smelling salts! Somebody shouted. Bring us some smelling salts! Dominic gazed at the beautiful, lifeless creature in his arms. He wanted to say something but he could not. His grace will have to carry her outside for fresh air, another voice consulted. That dreadful man! Lady Tarly sang like a soprano. Yes, take her outside, but the front door is easier to access from here, a third person insisted. It was the young woman Gigi had been sitting with earlier. My little dove! That was Lady Cartwright who had shoved aside the onlookers to get to her daughter. Her face was panic-stricken. We must slap her! Serena Locksley suggested, eaten up by envy because Surrey had not asked her to dance. On you go, Your Grace, Gigi's friend commanded rigorously and Dominic started to walk. Once they were outside, Lady Cartwright did slap her daughter. She's breathing, Dominic managed to say. His own voice sounded very distant to him. Was this a dream? If it was, it was not a pleasant one. He wanted to do nothing but flee! Leave these chattering women and hide in his lair. She's never fainted before, her mother wailed. I fear she may be seriously ill! She had a similar fit before in a bookshop when--- That dreadful man! A footman led Lady Tarly out of the house. I'm sure she'll come to in a few moments, my lady, Gigi's friend reassured Lady Cartwright. It was extremely hot in there and all the twirling must have made her dizzy. She was perfectly fine before --- That dreadful man! Lady Tarly yelled. Thank you, Miss Parker, Lady Cartwright said, suddenly more serene. You've been a great help. Please ask a steward to fetch our carriage. We shall leave right away. Dominic had no idea how her change of humour had come about, but she was almost mirthful! Miss Parker hesitated. She ought to lie down. I suppose a barouche is too small for that purpose. Perhaps His Grace could take you home in his carriage. That dreadful man? Of course, Lady Cartwright, Dominic heard himself say. My carriage is at your disposal. Very good, Your Grace, then we shall take the carriage and Lady Tarly can take the barouche. By the way, what happened to your never mind. What happened to my--- what? Dominic asked but nobody listened to him. I can't go on my own!

Agatha! Lady Cartwright shouted. My daughter is unconscious! She can't go on her own. I could go with Lady Tarly, Miss Parker said. Dominic thought her a martyr. Eugenia moaned, nestled her head against Dominic's chest and smiled. The ladies looked bewildered. Is she sleeping? Miss Parker whispered. I think so. How peculiar, Lady Cartwright whispered in return. That dreadful man! Lady Tarly whimpered. Miss Parker, you must go back inside and find your mother. She'll be looking for you. We can proceed from here without you. But do call on us tomorrow. Gigi would be very glad! There was something strange in Lady Cartwright's eyes as she said it, but Dominic was too distracted by the feeling of Gigi's head against his chest to pinpoint it. Miss Parker left. Lady Cartwright spoke. My dear Surrey. I can't allow Lady Tarly to return home on her own. She has a sickness of the nerves. I have to rely on you to safely return my little dove to Halfmoon Street. As an old friend of your mother's, I trust you and leave her in your care without a chaperone. The coachmen had driven up both vehicles, the carriage and the barouche. Lady Cartwright helped Lady Tarly in and off they went.

Dominic was struck dumb.

How can she just leave me standing here with her sick child in my arms? What a strange behaviour for a mother. What am I to do? I can't take her home on my own, without a chaperone? She'll be utterly compromised. But then, it is true; Lady Cartwright's an old friend of the family. I won't harm the little dove, after all, she's unconscious! What could possibly happen?
He lifted Gigi into the carriage and carefully positioned her on the bench.

Thank God, I'm a man of luxurious tastes. It's almost as comfortable as a bed. Velvet and cushions and all!
He closed the door and knocked against the rear wall as a signal for the carriage to depart. It was dark inside. Dominic's eyes were fixed on Eugenia. They wandered from her face to her neck, to her well-rounded bosom, her small waist. He could see the long, slim legs through the fine cloth of her gown. His breathing was heavy. He could take her now, he mused. Nobody could stop him. But he would not, of course. He was a gentlemen. He was a man of his word. He was Surrey! As he looked at her face again, he froze. Her eyes were open. 10.

A luxurious carriage, late at night

I'm dreaming. Oh, I love these dreams. What a wonderfully soft bench this is... Dominic is looking at me with burning eyes, just like he always does. But why doesn't he touch me? Why doesn't he tell me how much he loves and desires me? Maybe he's simply admiring my beauty. Yes, that

must be it.
Do you like what you see? She smiled at him.

Why doesn't he say anything? Usually he'd say, you are so beautiful, it's hurting my eyes. But if he doesn't want to talk, fine with me. We don't have to talk.
She sat up to face him. Outside the lights were flickering by. It all seemed wonderfully real.

Why does this have to be a dream?

But where else could she be, alone with him? They had been alone before, in her dreams. Countless times. They had sailed on ships, ridden on horseback, they had been snowed in at a Scottish castle, and they had bathed in the waters of the Caribbean. Gigi gently caressed his thigh with her gloved hand. Still, he did not move. She inhaled his unique scent. Knowing how he smelled was a wonderful new aspect of her dreams, ever since she had encountered him at the bookshop. In one quick move she was on his side of the carriage, kneeling above him, his hips between her thighs. She felt his hard manliness through her gown and sweet fire shot into her, right there, where their bodies touched. A new sensation. Gigi had never dreamed anything like this before. It was confusing but maddeningly compelling. She kissed him hungrily on the mouth, entranced by the feeling of realness. An overpowering desire took hold of her. Her body had taken over command of her senses. She let herself sink lower to feel more pressure in that suddenly tender spot. His arms were around her and he drew her closer. Not close enough for Gigi. She wanted him to undress, to feel his naked skin on hers, to have him all around her, on top of her, inside her. She began to move her hips, the need for him growing stronger and stronger. She had to have him in there. Now! How could she let him know? How was it done? She took her mouth away from his. Dominic, I need you so, she whispered into his ear. Eugenia... He sighed and kissed her with more urgency. I love you. Marry me. Why would he want to marry her? They were already married. Their wedding had taken place on a pirate ship, did he not remember? But we are already married, she objected when his lips left hers for a brief moment. What? No--- The carriage stopped. Halfmoon Street! The coachman called out. That dreadful man! A woman yelled outside. The duke pushed Gigi away and she fell back onto the opposite seat. She hit her arm. It hurt. Mary! That dreadful man has arrived! Somebody has to get Eugenia out of his carriage and it won't be me!

Gigi came to her senses. Her aunt's voice was much too real and had never featured in any of her dreams before.

I'm not dreaming! This is no dream! This is NO DREAM?

She remembered the waltz, then blackness.

The Duke of Surrey sat in silence, looking at his feet. Gigi got up and slapped him. You dreadful man! She spat. This is no dream! You are not allowed to do any of this outside of my dreams! You shamefully abused my situation for your woebegone desires! Were I not a lady I should demand satisfaction! I'm not one of your cyprians whom you can relish at your pleasure! Who do you take me for? No, do not answer me, Your Grace. There is nothing graceful about you. You are a haughty, arrogant, sinister and reprobate scoundrel! Gigi, I--- She slapped him again. Silence! She waved her forefinger in front of his nose. You have no right to use that name. You have no right to address me at all! If you should ever cross my path again, Sir, I swear my wroth will be beyond imagination! You horrid traitor, I saw you ogling that cow Serena Locksley! Who? I--- She slapped him once more and climbed out of the carriage. 11.

Grosvenor Square, the next morning

Dominic sat at his elegant tea table. A footman in gold livery poured brandy into a glass. Brandy had been the duke's diet for the past few hours. The memories assaulted him.

What have I done? But what could I've done? She was so passionate, so willing! So sweet and so ready...
He finished the brandy and nodded to the footman to pour him another. She had slapped him. Thrice!

But she seduced me! It was all her doing! --- Ah, don't kid yourself, Dominic, she was asleep, maybe she was drunk, too, you know she's not averse to alcoholic beverages... She made perfect sense in the end, when she realised how close she had come to lose her innocence.
Yet, how could an innocent girl be so passionate and so determined in her lovemaking? Was she really innocent? After all, he did not know a thing about her. He had hardly talked to her. She could be plainly immoral! It was always easy to play the injured party. Maybe she had long given up her innocence to Mr. Wimple?

Mr. Wimple! He must've arrived in London by now with the General! I must find him. I must know! I'll torture him if need be.
Dominic drank more brandy. No. His instincts told him the Honourable Eugenia Cartwright was a wild-child, but not depraved. There had been a strange, pure perfection to her kisses, to the way she had lain in his arms. She had behaved like people behave in--- In a novel! Of course! She re-enacts her mother's unholy

erotic novels when she imagines how we...

His previous lovers had all been experienced women who had known what they were doing between the sheets, wise in all ways of lovemaking.

Sophisticated whores, if I'm true to myself...

Not Gigi. She was ingenuous. Dominic was sure of it. He felt a sudden deep longing and at the same time a profound embarrassment when he pictured how she dreamed about him, what she fancied he would do to her. He did not dare let his thoughts dwell further into that direction. He was befuddled by brandy and by that little minx, that devilish kitten.

Angel! Demon! Pirate! All of it and more!

He had to have her. He had to marry her. In his heart he knew he had wanted to marry her the moment she had taken off her pirate's tricorn. He had even told her so. Well, he had not been thinking clearly, she had been rubbing herself against his--- Whatever. He had said it and he had meant it, too.

He wanted her for his wife but Eugenia only wanted him for a fantasy! She had been savagely angry when she had finally recovered from her amorous fervour in the carriage. Fury had raged through the beautiful creature like a thunderstorm. She had called him all sort of things. She never wanted to see him again! What if she wanted to marry somebody less sinister, less moody and less haughty? Somebody like that ignominious Mr. Wimple.

I have to tell her about the stable! She needs to know!

He'd call on her tomorrow and come what may, Mr. Wimple would not see the light of another day. He passed out.

***

The following day, after having recovered from his excessive intake of brandy, Dominic had Coeur de Lion saddled and rode over to Halfmoon Street. He was informed by a footman that the General was not at home and neither were the ladies. They had taken the barouche to Hyde Park. 12.

Hyde Park, that same morning

Miss Flora Parker, observant as usual, had immediately detected that something incisive had happened in the Cartwright household. Lady Cartwright was positively exuberant. The elegant woman was so radiant, Flora feared she might be inwardly aflame. Her husband's arrival could have been the reason for the lady's sudden mirth but Flora doubted it. Even so, Eugenia Cartwright was a complete contrast to her joyful parent. The bright young woman whom Flora had befriended not even a week ago had transformed into a pale, nervous, brooding creature. Beautiful yes, but not as forthcoming, witty or charming as she had been on earlier occasions. Funnily, apparently something Eugenia had done was the reason for Lady Cartwright's happiness. She would not cease stroking or patting her. My good, good girl, she'd sigh blissfully and smile. Flora and her own mother, Lady Parker, sat opposite the Cartwright females in their barouche. It was the usual time for a jaunt to the park and many an acquaintance walked, rode or drove by, greeting them amicably. A few more courageous ones even inquired after Gigi's health. Her faiblesse at Lady Winston's was known to the entire ton, of course. Flora's mother had been speaking of nothing else ever since.

Had Flora seen how it had happened? Had Flora heard what the duke had said?
How come he danced at all when everybody knows he never dances and what was he doing at Delilah's anyway? He could not possibly...? Or could he...? He would have to at some point... though everybody had given up on it, more or less, but no! Along comes Mary Tarly-Rivendon-

Cartwright who always got what she wanted then and now and has magicked up a stunningly beautiful daughter who pretends not to care for men at all. The next thing we see is Surrey at a ball, an occurrence nobody had ever hoped to witness, they dance, she faints, he brings her home in his carriage alone! Shocking! The girl is utterly compromised and it has been her own mother's idea! But then that flaxen haired schemer has always been outrageous, mark my words. First she marries the Earl of Rivendon about two weeks into her first season, later she runs of to France and marries that atrocious old general! It was sheer calculation by the Cartwright woman to set the duke up with her Eugenia! Who knows? Maybe the girl only feigned the weakness to make the greatest catch of the century! My dear Flora, we'll stick to these people if our lives depend upon it! If I'm not wrong, we'll soon be friends with the St. Yves. And the Shaws and the Lackerbies... they are all so very...

Rich? Exclusive?
Her mother's social ambitions had never interested Flora. She liked Gigi because Gigi had been the only girl she had ever encountered who would really understand her. Yet, her mother's words spoken in private came back to her as she watched Lady Cartwright. Did the lady look smug? Proud? As if she had reeled in the greatest catch of the century? Yes she did! Poor Gigi! Was she the victim of a wicked plot between her mother and the reckless duke? Had Surrey asked for Gigi's hand? Were they forcing the poor girl to marry him? A free spirit as Eugenia Cartwright would break under such a strain, no wonder she suffered! Flora pictured Gigi locked into a castle, chained to an enormous four-poster-bed and the Duke of Surrey exploiting her helplessness to satisfy his physical needs. To her own distress, Flora could not feel any pity for Gigi. Who would not want to be chained to a bed by the Duke of Surrey? Eugenia, Lady Parker ventured and brought Flora back from her reveries. I'm sure you are happy your father has come all the way from Yorkshire, just to stand by you during your first season? What? Gigi also seemed to have woken up from some daydream, though not from a pleasant one. Oh pardon me, Lady Parker, but I haven't been listening, please do forgive me! It wasn't anything of importance, dear. Flora's mother smiled graciously.

Hypocrite.
Lady Cartwright patted Gigi's arm. My good, good girl, she chirped. Isn't it a wonderful morning, all sunny and fresh. --- I wished my husband were here, but he had to take Mr. Wimple to the apothecary's. His digestion is not the best. Sometimes we're in danger of our lives. These vapours... Flora felt her mother tremble with shock. Lady Cartwright was indeed outrageous. Flora admired and envied her. To be so independent of other people's opinion had to be a blessing. I'm glad Mr. Wimple is here, Gigi sighed, gazing hopelessly into the distance. Oh, yes. He joined us at exactly the right moment. When my darling girl is not well, Mr. Wimple can always make her feel better. She even wanted him to stay with her overnight, but I couldn't allow it. The vapours, you see. Lady Parker coughed. Oh no! Gigi sighed all of a sudden, her face ashen. All three of them turned their heads.

A tall figure astride a black horse was approaching in a brisk canter. The villain of the piece looked exquisite in a dark grey riding suit, Flora decided Isn't that His Grace? Lady Cartwright demanded innocently. Look, darling, it's His Grace. We didn't get the chance to properly thank him for taking you home. I'd planned to write him a letter later today. How convenient we should meet him here. Charming, Lady Parker agreed and smiled even more agreeably. Lady Cartwright, Lady Parker, Miss Cartwright, Miss Parker, the duke said severely as he drew up alongside the barouche. Your Grace, the ladies courteously bowed to the duke. All except Gigi who did not move nor speak. A beautiful morning, isn't it, duke? Lady Cartwright jubilated, patting her daughter's hand. Exquisite.

How right you are, cried Flora's mother. Exquisite! The duke looked speculatively at Eugenia. I hope you have recovered from your malaise, Miss Cartwright? Thank you, Your Grace, Gigi said coldly without looking back at him. She does look rather pale, doesn't she, Lady Parker filled her voice with a note of well-meaning sorrow. Perhaps the London air doesn't agree with you, Miss Cartwright, the duke continued. Whenever I meet you, your are out of sorts, in one way or another. Flora watched him closely. Since the duke did not care for her at all she was at liberty to blandly observe him. He looked tired. His mouth was twitching and a certain tension in his posture belied the easy manner of his speech. I hear the Yorkshire air's much more beneficial. My horse keeps telling me so. Your horse? It broke out of Flora. Yes, the Duke nodded. He's quite a chatterbox. It's mostly nonsense though. Is it? Lady Cartwright's good humour had evaporated. She looked downright worried.

She's afraid she's set her daughter up with a mad man. That would serve her right.
Yes, indeed. Guess what he told me about Yorkshire. He said there were pirates in Yorkshire. That's well possible, Lady Cartwright concurred. There are a lot of secret coves by the sea, ideal for smugglers. We live further inland, fortunately. The duke nodded. My horse spent some time at a lovely inn called the Red Mill. Do you perchance know the local? Lady Cartwright, still visibly distressed, cleared her throat. Oh yes, I do! The owner served under my husband in the army. Coeur de Lion enjoyed his stay very much. Because that's were he saw the pirate! In fact, he hit upon a secret meeting between a Princess and a Privateer in that very inn's most comfortable stable. Spectacular haylofts, if anything. Oh, Lady Parker cried. Isn't there a novel of that title? The Princess and the Privateer? I wouldn't know, Lady Cartwright said sternly. Flora glanced at Gigi to see whether her friend found the entire conversation as disturbing as she did. Gigi's face had changed from white to bright red. Was it a secret rendezvous? Lady Cartwright asked nervously.

Why does she even listen to his gibberish? His horse tells him stories! Bedlam's calling!
That's what my horse believed, at first. But it turned out to be a book-club. A book-club? Again, Flora had not managed to keep her mouth shut. The Duke proceeded unperturbed. Yes, charming little get-together with cider and apple pie, rolling around in the straw, dramatising the content of the book in question. An excellent apple pie, my horse insists. Your horse joined the book-club, then? Flora asked with a tinge of sarcasm. Oh yes, oh yes. The pirate was very welcoming. Only when he found out that the horse was in fact my horse, he was terrified! Aha? Lady Cartwright pursed her lips. Yes! That pirate had, so it seems, encountered me in one of my less decorous moments and hence feared retribution. Must've been at a place called Hayford where I'd threatened to finish off the heir. HAYFORD? Lady Cartwright gasped. The duke nodded gravely. Retribution? Lady Parker asked. But what for? For corrupting the equestrian diet, of course. This horse is an athlete, you understand. Sugary pies are not at all beneficial to him. The pirate was very knowledgeable on the subject and justly feared my wroth. Unspeakable punishments I would administer, he was sure of it. The poor pirate would dwell in eternal agony. He dramatically offered himself to be my slave for the rest of his life if it saved him from the gruesome penalties awaiting him in my dungeons.

Oh, did he? Lady Cartwright had stopped patting Eugenia and looked at her with raised eyebrows. Eugenia bit her lip and nodded, her skin a dark shade of violet. Well, I couldn't vouch for the accuracy of my horse's account. If any horse could be accused of verbosity, it would be mine. --- But forgive me, I can't linger, I have an appointment in the city. He looked at Eugenia gravely for a while. Then he drew a deep breath. I shall call on you tomorrow afternoon, Miss Cartwright. I hope to find you recovered from your illness, by then. As far as I understand, a certain Mr. Wimple's life may depend on it. You'd better inform him of the imminent danger to his person. He clicked his tongue and the magnificent stallion sped away.

Eugenia breathed out with a loud pah and remained in just that position, her mouth hanging open. What was all that about? Flora asked. Eugenia stared at her seemingly unable to operate her jaws. Lady Cartwright leaned back and closed her eyes. Smelling salts, she pleaded. Flora's mother immediately obliged. There, there, dearest Mary. I understand you must be disturbed by the news. And your little girl so confused, too. There you thought it was only a digestive problem and here comes the duke with some unhinged story about a talking horse and all of a sudden he tells you your beloved Mr. Wimple may be terminally ill! But even if his demise should be at hand, my dear, you must always remember he's had a long and happy life. I only saw him once but I found him an exceptionally charming dog. 13.

Halfmoon Street, one hour later

I believe you're safely in the nursery! Instead you're reading hair-raising adventure novels with Lizzy. In the stable! How did you get hold of that shameful scribbling anyway?

He wants to marry me. But he doesn't want to get married. He said so, I heard it myself!
I suppose you found it somewhere in the house. I guess it was a gift by some old hag from the village. --- My, my. I thought I'd arranged it all myself, shoving you into his carriage. I thought I'd reeled in the greatest catch of the century. No! Far from it! My sheltered daughter did it all by herself masquerading and behaving like a slattern! I still can't believe it. We're very lucky the duke is a man of peculiar tastes, my dear. I don't think anybody else would have married you.

He wants to marry me? But he doesn't want to get married!

What happened in that carriage?

He said: I don't have the slightest intention of getting married.

Never mind. I'd hoped to comprise him into marrying you anyway. He's the most handsome man in England, vastly rich and cultivated. He owns a beautiful castle in Italy where I plan to move once you father is no more.

Maybe he's playing a trick on me to punish me for my terrible behaviour in the carriage.
When he stormed into the bookshop that day I thought it was a gift from heaven! I couldn't have known you'd already volunteered to be his slave and he only came in to claim you... Mother, Gigi cried for the umpteenth time. I didn't know he was there! One must always expect the unexpected, child, always! --- To swear on Mr. Wimple's life. Shame on you! The poor beast. As if he weren't afflicted enough by his digestion! --- It doesnt matter. His Grace hasn't proposed yet. He might be heading for a ship to cross the channel this very instant. Why have you never told us you'd seen the duke at Hayford? I would've arranged for you to meet him much earlier. We've been wasting precious time!

The door opened and Gigi's father entered the drawing room. Hard on his heels came, as always, Mr. Wimple. The enormous basset hound waddled over to Lady Cartwright. She hoisted him onto the divan with some travail. Nobody is going to murder you, my love, she purred. If that duke-man isn't nice to you, we'll murder him. General Cartwright kissed his wife on the cheek. Good afternoon my flower. What's with a duke? Have we captured some poor blighter already? Yes, indeed. The Duke of Surrey at that! But your daughter did it all by herself. I can't claim any of the glory. Such a shame. I only have one daughter! There won't be another chance! Well, perhaps I did contribute a little. Really? Eugenia? A duke? How did the child accomplish such a masterpiece?

Maybe he really does want to marry me.

Lady Cartwright sighed and gave a detailed report of the recent events. Assailed her in a bookshop? General Cartwright lightened his pipe. You base your endeavours on shaky grounds, my love. Oh, but I'd seen how smitten he was. I knew I had only to mention Lady Winston's ball and he'd be there. To my own disgrace, I grabbed the wrong book and handed him The Birds of Cheltenham Gardens. I had several sleepless nights over it. I feared he might take Eugenia for a lack wit. That book is revolting!

If he doesn't want to marry me, I'm going to die. But if he really wants to marry me, I'm also going to die. I'm dead already. Farewell, world.
I saw a copy of that novel just the other day in a gutter near St. James' Park, in case you're interested, Gigi's father grumbled. No, I'm not, Lady Cartwright frowned. Thank the Almighty his horse liked the apple pie. What would we've done otherwise? Don't tell me you had a hand in that too, the general implored. No. But I wish I had! 14.

Bond Street, the next morning

Dominic and Lackerby saw heavily armed guards as they entered Monsieur Duval's boutique for handmade jewellery. That was only necessary considering the values stored within. The famous goldsmith Claude Duval had left France after the Revolution since, for reasons well known, there were few necks left for his jewels to adorn. For many years now, his establishment had been counted among the most renowned in England.

The boudoir where Monsieur Duval welcomed his customers was large and elegantly styled in red velvet and gold. Necklaces, bracelets and earrings were placed almost negligently throughout the room as if forgotten. We're only trinkets, the jewels seemed to whisper, just take us along, it doesn't matter. You can afford it.

You don't fool me, you shiny little seductresses.

Dominic knew, as did every gentleman in London, that a piece of jewellery at Monsieur Duval would cost him at least a thousand pounds. Lackerby, untroubled by the surroundings, kept elaborating on his newest conquest the red-haired opera dancer bearing the promising name of Desire. You should see the way she moves her hips, Surrey, it's hypnotic! She could make millions with it. In that state of trance I'd give her all my money and yours as well, if she only consented to move her hips on top of me. Oh, shut up, Lacks. Help me find something suitable for my bride. If she'll have me.

Im doubting it.

Come on, Surrey, she's not going to say no, whoever she is. You're making quite the secret of it, by the by. I wonder why, actually? She ugly? No, she's the most beautiful girl in the world. Aren't they always?

Apart from Surrey and Lackerby there was only one more customer in the boudoir. That other customer was lounging comfortably on a vast couch, with his back towards the two lords. Oddly, he wore a tricorn. Dominic smiled to himself. He thought it quite droll that a tricorn would be present when he bought his first gift for Gigi the pirate. It'll have to be something unique, Lacks. Something truly beautiful. This is cheap rubbish. She'd throw it into my face.

No, she'd probably strangle me with it.

Quite a demanding young lady, your future wife. Are you quite sure about her? Yes. Shut up and look. Nothing Dominic had seen so far had pleased him. Duval would have to bring out his hidden treasure boxes with the more expensive pieces; in fact, Duval was at that very moment busy presenting a collier of emeralds and diamonds to the man wearing the tricorn from just such a box.

That would be more to my taste.

Look at that! Lackerby lifted a necklace of sinfully red rubies, surrounded by smaller stones of black jet. It looks exactly like the nightgown Desire wore last night, I'm going to buy it for her and the her hips will--- LACKERBY! A voice filled the boudoir with the sound of rolling thunder. Lackerby was at once pale as a sheet. No, he was green! Still spending all your money on harlots, the voice rumbled on. Lackerby began to stutter. N-no, S-Sir, the, la-la-la-dy is just a f-riend. Aren't they always? It was the man on the couch! Sir, Dominic said crisply. It is particularly discourteous to address a gentleman without facing him. Whatever business you have with the Viscount should at least be worth a proper greeting. The man laughed throatily. Then he got up and turned.

It's a giant!
The man was almost seven feet tall. His shoulders were broader than those of an ox and an enormous white beard covered his face.

It's Jupiter!
All the while Lackerby stood unmoving by Dominic's side. Well, boy, here I stand, looking at you. The giant stepped out from behind the couch. He carried an uncanny iron walking stick, which he surely did not need to keep him on his feet.

Is that a skull on the pommel?

Pardon me, Sir, but I don't think we've been introduced and I dislike your manner of speaking, Dominic insisted coldly. No matter how intimidating that man was, he did not fear him. He was Surrey. Do you, boy? --- Eh, Lackerby? Shouldn't you also be getting married like your foppish friend here? Could do you a hell of a lot of good, m'lad! I must ask you, Sir, to stop insulting the Viscount and myself. Must you, pretty boy? Jupiter's bright eyes were flashing.

It's not to be tolerated. I am Surrey!

Sir, I'm the Duke of Surrey. If you would kindly give me your name. My seconds will arrange a meeting.

No, S-Surrey, d-d-don't! Quiet, Lackerby! Jupiter had gotten so close that he could reach out and pat Lackerby on the shoulder. Let your little friend and myself get the matter straight. The giant's eyes turned into slits. Well, well, dukey. You want satisfaction? You of all people want satisfaction from ME? I'd shoot you without even looking up from my newspaper, sweet dandy boy. The huge creature was towering over Dominic. It was a situation he had never experienced before. I've never missed a shot! Dominic spat. He was seriously annoyed by now. How could this maniac ruin this most special day? Hmm, hmm, hmm. The man smiled and now it was Dominic who was being patted. It almost threw him to the ground. You know, I'd really love to duel myself with you, Surrey... But what would my poor wife say? I believe she might call herself a widow, Sir. Oh, she's been there, done that. She wouldn't allow it to happen for a second time. No... What I meant is this. My wife would never forgive me if I shot you. Dominic had a suspicion. He stiffened. Sir, perhaps this is a mere misunderstanding. I'm not acquainted with your wife. I'm not in the habit of frequenting married women. I may not be an ascetic but I'm not fishing in other men's ponds. On the contrary, Sir. You know my wife, and I know it for a fact. She'd throw me out of my own house if I shot you. Oh, and my poor child! The poor little creature! The darling girl! What would she say if I shot her, how shall I put it, fianc? After you ambushed her in a hayloft, attacked her in a bookshop and abducted her from a ball? How could she ever forgive her old papa? Roaring laughter exploded from Jupiter's mouth. His entire body was shaken by spasms of mirth. Finally, he took Dominic's hand and shook it. Your Grace, you've proven to be a courageous man. I give you my blessing. I want loads of grandchildren and by tomorrow. I'm an old man, you see, I may have little time remaining. He winked merrily. Ah yes, one more thing before I go. If you make my little girl unhappy, I'll break your neck. And if for whatever reason you won't show up at our London residence this afternoon, Ill find you and Ill kill you. Did I make myself clear? He winked and smiled again. Dominic blushed like a schoolboy. He was still thinking of something suitable to say when their attention was drawn elsewhere. Monsieur Duval, who had watched the entire scene silently from behind the couch, collapsed and fell to the ground.

Weak nerves? Poor chap must've been worried he'd have a dead duke on his hands.
The general turned and drew his eyebrows together. Mr. Wimple!

Mr. Wimple? At last! Now, let's take a good look at you, Mr. Wimple, before I snuff you out.

Dominic heard a loud thumping noise coming from the couch. Shortly afterwards he saw what had to be the fattest dog in the world. The huge basset hound came jovially trotting towards them, wagging its tail. General Cartwright pointed his walking stick at the animal. Mr. Wimple, have you eaten the biscuits Monsieur Duval has so graciously offered to me? You know what they do to your bowels. Mr. Wimple averted his eyes. Lackerby suddenly swayed. W-what's that s-smell? Gentlemen! The general covered his face with a handkerchief. There's only one thing I can say to you except good luck. RUN!

15.

Halfmoon Street, later that day

She bit her lip. She tapped her feet. She stretched. She hugged herself. She sang. She got up. She sat down. She got up again and walked around the room.

He's not coming. He's not coming. He's not coming.

The door opened and her heart stopped. It was a footman carrying a tray. Get out! Gigi fumed. The man bowed and retreated.

How can he be so calm? I may or may not get engaged to the most perfect man in the world today... if he hasn't fled to the West Indies.
The door opened again. Lady Cartwright looked in. Are you alright in there, Eugenia? No, I'm not! Leave me alone! Lady Cartwright nervously blinked and closed the door again.

It's four o'clock already. He's not coming.

Footsteps. But the feet walked past the door. Frustrated, Gigi threw herself onto the couch and groaned aloud. The door opened. Gigi jumped up. He. He. HE came in.

Mr. Wimple was comfortably lounging in the duke's arms. The duke himself did not look quite so comfortable, whether from nervousness or from

strain Mr. Wimple weighed at least 70 pounds Gigi could not tell. I have a hostage, the duke said under his breath. But from what I witnessed this morning it's far more likely he'll kill us than the other way around. Therefore I--- Yes, I will! Gigi cried. What? I will marry you! Oh, the duke looked puzzled. That was quick. Mr Wimple lifted his head and licked His Graces gracious chin. I have no patience for such things, Gigi panted. I just thought I'd say it so I wouldn't have to wait before you asked me because why else would you have come and since you already know that--- what--- how I--- well, I guessed it would be the easiest way to get it over with.

Keep breathing, Eugenia Cartwright, keep breathing.

I'm not fainting, she declared jubilantly to the room. No... Would--- why would you want it to be over quickly? Mr. Wimple yawned and licked the duke again. Pardon me. Dominic St. Yves turned around and walked towards the door.

Oh no! He's leaving! I've chased him off! I'm such a stupid, hysterical cow!

The duke opened the door, set Mr. Wimple down in the corridor and came back in again. Eugenia was supporting herself on the couch's armrest in order to remain standing. Her knees were about to give way. Dominic St. Yves was glowering darkly at her from the other side of the drawing room. You are the strangest girl I ever met. I couldn't say, Your Grace, Gigi mumbled, looking at her feet. Stop calling me that! He rushed towards her and drew her into his arms. You're driving me mad, Eugenia Cartwright! That's good, I guess? Oh, shut up. His lips pressed down on hers. She threw her arms around him and gave herself up to him, to his longing kiss, to the feeling of his lean, strong body against hers. It made her want to scream! How could anything be as good as he?

When she finally drew away her whole body was on fire. I have to warn you. I'm a bluestocking, she said out of breath. He smiled. I don't care what colour your stockings are as long as you let me take them off. He kissed her again. And again. Their tongues, their bodies, everything seemed to melt into one as they stood there by the couch, embracing and forgetting the world around them.

Is it over yet? Lady Cartwright asked through a half opened door. May we come in? Yes, you may, Dominic said and reluctantly let go of Gigi. Thank Goodness! Lady Cartwright and General Cartwright came rushing in and rapidly closed the door behind them. Both were pressing handkerchiefs to their faces.

Lady Cartwright marched to a window, opened it and both Gigi's parents leaned out, drawing deep breaths. So, when will you be married? Lady Cartwright asked from the window. As soon as possible, Gigi insisted.

I won't let him get away now.

And when is that? The general asked turning towards the couple. Dominic, my Dominic, my future husband, His Grace the Duke of Surrey, most attractive and most dangerous, most manly and most perfect man in England, looked down at her. Really? I mean, you are young, shouldn't you at least enjoy the rest of the season before--- No, don't make me wait, Gigi whispered. You're a duke, you must have a special license. I want you to marry me right now.

I'm going to explode if I can't have him tonight.

Dominic stared at her in bedazzlement. Today? he asked softly, the implications of her words slowly dawning on him. TODAY? Lady Cartwright gasped. Well, the general cleared his throat. Your mother and I don't think this has to be rushed, you've only just--- Wonderful! Lady Cartwright cried. Of course they can be married right away, he has a special license! He's a duke! Well have the maids pack up her things and she'll be at Grosvenor Square by tonight. Oh! General Cartwright drew out his pipe. If that's so... would you mind, Sir? The duke was still looking only at her. Longingly. Hungrily.

He can't wait either.

He smiled. Then laughed. He kissed her gently on the forehead. Everything to get away from Mr. Wimple. 16.

Grosvenor Square, a few hours later.

The archbishop had not complained for long when Gigi's father had most genially asked him to perform a wedding ceremony for the Duke of Surrey and his beautiful bride. Gigi did not remember much of it.

At the dukes mansion in Grosvenor Square a footman in gold livery helped her out of the carriage. The steward, the butler, the housekeeper and all the other servants were lined up to welcome their new mistress. They curtsied deeply as she walked by and said Your Grace. It took Gigi some time until she realised they were not addressing Dominic but her.

I'm Her Grace now. The Duchess of Surrey!

Her new title had been the least of her concerns. All she was thinking about was how to get her husband, MY HUSBAND DOMINIC ST.YVES into his bedroom and to finally know how making love was really done. She was a little scared.

What if I'm not doing it right? What if it hurts? What if--They were alone. The servants had all gone. Gigi stood in the middle of the room, not really knowing whether to sit down or lie down, whether to say something or not. Where she had been only slightly afraid before, she was very afraid now. Dominic poured some light-brown liquid into a glass. He held it out to her. Here. Drink. Is--- is it brandy? He poured more into a second glass and came over to her. Yes it is. Cheers, wife. He smirked. She smiled and drank. It burned on her tongue, in her throat and in her tummy. She felt better in a flash. Dominic took the glass away from her and put it onto a nearby table. His face became very serious. I don't think I have ever made love to a--- he hesitated. To a virgin? Gigi's voice was shaking. Yes... Oh, I'm not--- WHAT? She sighed. And lied. I'm not afraid. Not much. Oh, he gasped. Good. --- Don't worry. You have a natural talent for it from what I have seen so far. Gigi blushed. He drew her into his arms. His breath was hot as he leaned down and whispered in her ear. Are you ready for your punishment, Your Grace? He did not give her time to answer. His mouth was already on hers.

He's devouring me!

That was the last clear thought Eugenia St. Yves was have for some time. Dominic lifted her up and carried her into another room. The bedroom. He lay her down on the vast four-poster-bed. She simply lay there watching him. He took her by the legs and pulled her towards him, bowed down and gently kissed her. Then, with a single move, he ripped her dress in half. And her corset. And everything else she wore until she lay completely naked and exposed in front of him. Satisfied? Am I heroic enough? Gig thought she nodded. He placed his hands on her throat, and then slowly he let them slide down over her breasts, her stomach, her thighs and back up again. He did that several times. The next time his left hand remained on her breast, gently stroking it, while the right hand went further down, to the inside of her thigh. An almost painful shudder went through Gigi as one of his fingers touched her in that soft, moist spot where all her nerves seemed to come together. Oh! She moaned and clutched the sheets to keep herself steady, somehow, in this wave of feelings that came over her. Slowly, he began to move his hand between her legs while the other one still cupped her breast. Every movement he made forced a little cry out of her. He leaned forward again, kissing her, but not gently this time. His caresses were less probing now. One finger had found that tiny knot hidden within her tender flesh and he was gently pushing and circling it. She tried to press herself against him, wanting more. He had to take the left hand from her breast to lean onto his arm.

Gigi pulled off his neck cloth. He raised himself and she followed him upwards, until she sat. Together they unbuttoned his shirt. As he took it off Gigi gaped at his bronzed torso, hairless and rippling with muscles. He was amazing. Hurry, she breathed, feeling an emptiness inside that had to be filled without further delay. She desperately wanted to get onto her knees to press her naked body against his, but he pushed her down. He had opened his trousers. Her breath caught as she saw him remove them and he towered above her in all his naked splendour.

Thats never going to work that will never fit into--With a swift movement he was above her and with an other movement, oh! he was inside her. It was a strong, deep thrust. Gigi felt all her muscles contract. There was some pain, yes, but above all she felt utterly stuffed. That was quick, she gasped. I thought it might be better that way, he mumbled and kissed her ear. Then he thrust again. Oh! Gigi moaned. He thrust again. And Again. She had to close her eyes. How could he even move in there, he was so big and there was no space left at all, but somehow it worked and his hard manhood pressed and rubbed every inch of her with unrelenting strength. Uh! He moved faster. Gigi wanted to move her legs to loosen the tension that was building up inside of her, she wanted to move her arms but Dominic had her completely pinned down somehow. She was moaning loudly now, craving air, craving something else. Dominic, I--- she did not know what to say, she did not really want to say anything, she just wanted him to know that more and more pressure was building up inside of her and that she would surely be torn into a thousand pieces shortly. He stopped. No, dont stop, dont stop! she wailed. He changed his position slightly and brought her legs up, then he was thrusting again. The sensation of being totally filled was even stronger than before.

How is that even possible?

He took her in a wild rhythm. Her arms were free now but she had to hold on to him. His breath came out sharply with every thrust he made. His eyes were fixing hers. He looked like a beautiful predator to Gigi. Merciless and wild. From time to time he would kiss her hungrily on the mouth or on the neck. It was too much for her, she had to close her eyes, and rest her head on the cushion, still she was begging him, pleading him to go on! She felt the pressure turning into an itching heat along his moving shaft. It was scorching and spread into her loins, into her belly, her legs, her feet, her lungs, even her head!

Whats this?
His thrusts were now slow but deep and almost violently hard. Uncontrollable contractions went through her, his hammering manhood causing more and more of them. Her body exploded. She saw blinding fireworks before her eyes. She screamed, pressing her face into his neck, pressing her hips against him as hard as she could to have more of it. More of him! He moaned and shivered too. Then he sank down on top of her, kissing her, rocking her, fast at first but then slower and slower until they lay still. Gigi came to her senses and realised she was yapping for air. I Dominic tried to speak. Yap? She puffed. He kissed her again.

I think--- Yes? Nothing. He rolled off her, making her feel very cold. But then he drew her over to lie on top of him and covered her with a sheet, so that was quickly remedied. They lay for a while, recovering their breathing until they would be fit to actually communicate. Finally, something came to Gigis mind. She leaned onto her elbow. Ouch! he said. She moved around a little. You know what? No, my ravenous beauty? We hardly know each other. We never had a proper conversation. She looked him straight in the eyes. I beg your pardon? I just devoured you like you demanded, Ill do it again in a minute, only so you know, but dont ask me to converse with you right now. His hands were on her buttocks and he shoved her towards his resting staff which Gigi felt hardening against her belly. She looked at him reproachfully. So you dont actually love me, you only want me for my glorious body. I think by now I told everybody in London that I love you. But I do want your glorious body. Quite a lot. He tried to kiss her again but she did not let him. That doesnt sound romantic she feigned annoyance. I think we have to discuss your reading habits. But not now. The tip of his newly erect member was already entering her. Gigi raised her hips. Say you love me first, you dangerous rake! He sighed. Gigi the pirate, I love you! I love you, I love you, I love you and I shall love you until the end of my days unless She sat down on top of him, taking him in. This lovemaking was really all she had expected it to be, and more. Unless what? He closed his eyes and smiled lazily. Unless you feed my horse with apple pie again. --- Now, slave girl, get on with it. We still have a lot of punishing to do.

THE END

OUT NOW

RED WINE FOR MISS PARKER

Flora joins Dominic and Gigi in their Italian villa. Joining them will be Darlington, Lackerby and a very handsome Sforza prince. US Store: Find it here. UK Store: Find it here.

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Table of Contents
Copyright 1. 2. 3. 4. 5. 6. 7. 8. 9. 10. 11. 12. 13. 14. 15. 16.