Chapter One
Spring 1819
"Blast it all last it all, I'm a marquess, not a bloody
governess." Thomas Effington, the Marquess of Helmsley and
future Duke of Roxborough, drained the glass of brandy he
held in his hand and promptly poured another.
Randall, Viscount Beaumont, studied him over the rim of
his own glass. "You've mentioned that already this
evening. Several times, in fact."
"It bears repeating." Thomas sank into a wing chair
identical to the one his friend occupied. Both were angled
toward the massive oak desk that had well served the
previous eight Dukes of Roxborough.
For a moment he considered suggesting they move to the
sofa facing the fireplace at the far end of the long
Effington House library. In spite of the fine spring day,
the evening was cool and the warmth of the fire would be
welcome. Still, these chairs were closer to the cabinet
that housed his father's supply of spirits and their
proxirnity was more important than mere creature comfort.
Thomas drew a long, appreciative swallow. There was a
great deal of warmth to be had right here. "I ask you,
Rand, how can my family possibly expect me to find a bride-
their idea, mind you, not mine -- if I'm also expected to
play nursemaid?"
"I'd scarce call it playing nursemaid. Or perhaps I've
misunderstood." Rand glanced wryly at his drink. "It's
entirely possible I've overlooked some of the finer
details of your dilemma."
"It's quite simple." Thomas heaved a heartfelt sigh and
launched into a recitation he thought he'd already given
at least once tonight, although at the moment he was not
entirely certain. "Last year my sister, Gillian, married
Richard, theEarl of Shelbrooke. You know him, don't you?"
"I know of him."
"He promised his three youngest sisters -- they've been
raised in the country -- a season in London, with all the
stuff and nonsense such a thing entails to women. My
mother --"
"Ah, yes, the Duchess of Roxborough," Rand said, "and a
woman not to be trifled with, if rumor serves."
"None of the Effington women are to be trifled with. From
my grandmother to my youngest cousins, they are stubborn
and opinionated to the last." Thomas glared at his
glass. "My mother had planned to take Richard's sisters
under her wing personally and had gone so far as to
arrange for a come-out ball for them. It seems my sister
was something of a disappointment to her when she married
her first husband after only one season. It was all my
mother could do to keep from drooling at the very thought
of steering not one but three young women through the
rigors of a first season. And as an added bonus, I'd
finally agreed to seriously look for a bride." He narrowed
his eyes. "She was quite beside herself with glee at the
thought of it all."
Rand snorted with ill-concealed amusement.
Thomas slumped deeper in his chair. "Unfortunately, my
parents are no longer in England, and I've been forced
into the temporary role of head of the family, with all
the accompanying headaches and responsibilities."
"Pity. Are you up to it?"
"When it comes to handling estate concerns or family
business or my own financial affairs, for that matter, I
haven't a worry. Effington men may well spend their nights
in questionable pursuits, but we are remarkably competent
when it comes to the maintenance and increase of the
family fortune. Runs in the blood." He grinned and raised
his glass in a salute. "Even my more disreputable
ancestors didn't squander whatever wealth they'd stolen."
Rand laughed and lifted his glass. "To the Effington
ancestors, then." He took a sip. "A shame the Beaumonts
can't say the same. Now, where have the duke and duchess
gone?"
"America." Thomas grimaced. "Richard and Gillian inherited
a great deal of property in that godforsaken land and for
some absurd reason wanted to see it in person. While
there, Richard had the nerve to get her with child."
"Damned inconsiderate of him."
"I thought so. And he calls himself my friend." Thomas
pulled a long sip and considered the events of the last
year. He'd been delighted when his dearest friend had
fallen in love with his sister. And no one could have been
more pleased than Thomas when the couple had been the
beneficiary of a substantial inheritance. Now, however, he
did wish Richard's timing had been better. "When my mother
learned of Gillian's state, not more than a month ago, she
insisted on going to be with her rather than having
Gillian risk the voyage home. First grandchild, and all
that."
"And the duke went with her?"
Thomas nodded. "He's never been to America and apparently
has a much more adventurous streak than I'd ever credited
him with."
"Bad piece of luck there. Still, correct me if I'm wrong,
but I thought England was riddled with Effingtons. Surely
there's some other relation, preferably female, who can
shepherd these girls around for the season?"
"One would think, but this year they all seem to have
scattered to the four comers of the earth, One branch of
the family is hanging about old ruins somewhere -- Greece,
I believe. Richard's oldest sister and her husband are in
Paris, and everyone else in the family is too taken up
with their own affairs to lend any assistance whatsoever.
In short, old man, I'm trapped. Saddled with the
responsibility of launching three girls onto the choppy
seas of society." Thomas blew a long breath. "As well as
fulfilling a promise to find a bride of my own this
season."
"What on earth possessed you?"
"Oh, the usual reasons," Thomas said grimly. "I'm three
and thirty. My father, my mother and even my sister
delight in pointing out to me the need...
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