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  "Am I not still? Ramona, curb your tongue! But yes, I was, and more besides, I was interesting. Interesting is something that interests many young men, though your mother may have taught you otherwise. If there’s nothing interesting about a man’s wife, he’ll find something somewhere else to interest him."

  "Oh my!" Ramona exclaimed.

  "Being shocked is not so attractive either my dear, now who is that young man? I don't know him by his father, and he certainly is a masculine one!" Tirinia drew attention to the entrance of a man, broad shouldered and dark haired, in a black suit and crimson cravat.

  "Oh goodness, he does look funereal," Ramona quipped, interest sparked, but then quelled. "He's not very pretty, though."

  "Pretty?!" Tirinia said, a bit sharply and loudly, for a few eyes turned towards her, and Ramona blushed. "Is that what the fashion is these days?"

  "Well, what does fashion have to do with it, who wouldn't want a lovely man for a husband?" Ramona replied.

  "What about masculine, muscled, strong, a man who can sweep you off your feet and take care of you?"

  "Most of the men here are strong and muscular, that doesn't mean they have to neglect their hair," she squinted at the man who had entered and his cropped black hair, not a curl in sight.

  "You think that is musculature, my dear? That is padding added by their tailors. I don't doubt many a man here has some strength from carrying his fellows home from the gaming hells or racing their horses pell mell at Hyde Park, but these are foolish ways to show your masculinity, and rather obvious ways to show your immaturity." She took a deep breath, "and since when is keeping one’s hair trimmed considered neglect!?"

  Ramona could not think of a clever retort. Tirinia nodded knowingly and went off in search of a shared acquaintance with this mysterious gentleman in black.

  Meanwhile, the Hon. Freddie Gooly returned, having been waiting for Tirinia to wander away from her young ward. Ramona tried not to look too closely at his padded calves, but indeed she saw now that they didn't look quite natural. What a bother! Tirinia was so often right it was infuriating. Somehow this, and the description of his father's wet and inexperienced lips made Ramona feel slightly sick to the stomach. She found her responses to his overtures less pronounced, and could not help but search the room for her Aunt’s dark stranger.

  Tirinia was busy working her way through introductions to this gentleman, who she found was, at least superficially, everything she could have hoped for. Not too young, well past his days of gambling, silly races and slavish fashion. He was very well to do and currently in London in search of a bride. No one knew where his tastes lay in that direction, but Ramona was universally considered to be something of a doll, so Tirinia was not concerned on that account. After asking 12 people if they knew the man, she managed to get an introduction to someone who did, in fact, and it was thus she arrived before him, slightly breathless, and held out her hand as she scrutinized him at close quarters.

  Yes indeed, she thought, as he bowed over her hand. Though she would not have presumed to seek out a Duke for her young niece, she could not resist making a game try at this one. Duke of Blusterfuss, George Flanders.

  On closer inspection his face held intelligence, and a sparkle of humor lit his eyes as he observed this distinguished lady who stood before him with her gloved fingers outstretched. He had already guessed that she had someone, a granddaughter perhaps, in mind for him. This was something he had become accustomed to in the 3 weeks since he had arrived in London, presumed in search of a bride. He had many reasons to be in London, in fact a wife was the farthest thing from his mind, but what else were they to think, this fashionable set, when an unmarried, purportedly loaded Duke from the northern counties comes to London during the high season? Indeed, he wants a wife, finally tired of those empty halls, ready to pass on his title to a bouncing lusty baby boy, a boy that one of London’s finest young ladies would gladly give him in exchange for a title and luxury.

  But Tirinia was charming and humorous, she used this to her advantage, though she naturally believed the rumors that he was in search of a wife, she also knew she would have to be particularly interesting to get him to even entertain Miss Ramona Havishamble, daughter of Lord Havishamble, whose title was mostly honorary and expected to die with him. Ramona had many things to recommend her, but family was not particularly high on that list.

  So talented she was that before he had time to protest, George Flanders found himself standing before this young lady. Having no interest in a wife, he had no disinterest in talking with a pretty young girl, and did not feel the need to first find out her heritage. He wasn't going to marry any of them, so he could safely converse with them all.

  Ramona found herself somewhat flabbergasted. Tirinia had shown many times that she could finagle an introduction with nearly anyone of interest, but here she stood with a Duke on her arm, and this Duke was giving Ramona a somewhat surprisingly handsome, white-toothed smile. But still, he seemed so swarthy! She must not seem too interested. How silly! Too interested in a Duke! Interested or not he wouldn't have her. She could say whatever she liked and it would make no difference.

  Luckily this was exactly what Tirinia had hoped for when she heard the young man was a Duke.

  "You must be so tired of this," Ramona began, adjusting her skirts.

  "Tired?" the Duke of Blusterfuss was taken aback. He was not rude enough to say, indeed, I despise meeting beautiful young women every evening, he wasn't even sure, when he put it like that, that he was tired of it, exactly, but often the conversation was a bit vapid and then he found himself seeking the company of the men in the billiard room, a cigar and some politics to help him forget the perfume and champagne in the other room.

  "Well yes, we hear you are seeking a wife," Ramona said, arching an eyebrow, "and here I am, not suitable at all, vying for an introduction, surely this happens to you exceedingly."

  "Well, yes, though I shudder to say anyone is unsuitable... to be honest, there has been a misunderstanding," he said, looking more closely at this curious girl.

  "Oh? Are you not a Duke after all?" she queried, feeling slightly embarrassed.

  "No indeed, that much is true, but I have not come to London in search of a wife," he said, apologetically.

  "Really?" Tirinia asked, "Well, that is too rude of you!"

  "Have you got one already?" Ramona asked.

  "No I haven’t, but I am here on business. I just have so many family connections to keep up that I’ve been brought out in society a bit more than I had intended."

  "If you are unmarried, you are seeking a wife, dear Duke, whether you think you are or not." Tirinia admonished him.

  "I suppose many people have seen it as such. As it is, no young lady is truly suitable or unsuitable for me to dance with, if I may?" he offered his hand to Ramona.

  "I don’t know if I should, if you aren't entertaining marriage at all," she said.

  "But that makes it perfectly harmless, dance with him, girl!" Tirinia said. This was going quite better than she had hoped, the fact that this young man was not seeking a wife was probably to their best advantage. If he found himself in a position of sullying a young woman’s reputation he would surely do the right thing and ask for her hand. Especially since he was the type to go to London on business but attend parties on family obligation. It was good to find an obligated man. Now, how to manufacture a romantic misunderstanding between the young couple? She would have to take her time and do it carefully. Others must come to understand firstly that the Duke of Blusterfuss had shown a preference. She certainly had her work cut out for her, but first of all she needed to learn all she could about this man, what his true prospects were and how often they could expect to see him the rest of the season.

  Ramona danced with the Duke of Blusterfuss and was returned to her seat. She did not really think much of him as she spent the rest of her evening resuming interactions with other young men she considered frankly more suitable. Tirinia let h
er alone, moving from group to group of acquaintances, quizzing them about this unmarried Duke who was not in search of a wife. Indeed! What a notion! By the end of the evening she discovered he had an heir; a young nephew, Andrew, the son of a favorite and deceased sibling, the boy’s father had been ruined by an expensive wife. Well then, perhaps this said something of the Duke’s motive. She could see many reasons behind it with this history. His younger brother Malcolm was ruined by a wife, that might put one off the idea of marriage, and their unfortunate son left penniless, it would be quite noble to pass the family inheritance on to such an unfortunate case. Sensical and somewhat self-sacrificing. She wanted George Flanders for her niece more than ever now.

  Ramona had been impressed by the Duke’s graceful dancing, somewhat unexpected from a man who lacked lace and beautiful eyelashes, but there it was, that and he was strong, she had felt herself gliding across the dance floor in his powerful arms in an invigorating fashion. Still, she did not seek him out with her eyes as she listened to the self aggrandizing spiels of her other young men, she listened raptly, giggled appropriately and felt herself get heady from champagne, just as she felt she ought. When Tirinia returned, full to bursting with gossip about the Duke it took her a moment to grasp who she was talking about.

  "What are you going on about?" she asked, her quickened heartbeat fluttering the lace at her collar endearingly.

  "Why! The Duke of Blusterfuss, of course, you goosey female! George Flanders!" Tirinia sat down beside Ramona with a flutter.

  "Well whatever for, aunt!?" Ramona replied, beginning to stand as she spied a fellow coming to claim his dance.

  "Must you set off now, dear?" Tirinia asked, narrowing her eyes at the approaching beau.

  "Indeed, I promised this dance to Jonathan Fellows, two weeks ago!" she replied, looking eagerly in the direction of the young man, a particular favorite, with auburn hair and cold green eyes.

  "I never cared for redheaded men, myself, they were too at odds with my own complexion," Tirinia said with disdain.

  "Well I think they are quite charming, aunt, and this one is going to charm me for several minutes, right now. Excuse me," she said, as he reached them and took Ramona's outstretched lily white hand in his own, just as pale.

  "Pah!" Tirinia said, to no one in particular. She looked around for the Duke of Blusterfuss, trying to avoid the vision of her niece, in a pale blue satin, spinning around on the arm of that foppish snit.

  When Tirinia had been a young lady, that sort of man would have been giggled at behind the open fans of all of her confidantes. To imagine such a fellow being sought after, desired, prized. That was what ladies were for, decoration, prettiness, something easy on the eyes, but men were supposed to be forces of nature, large, broad and tall, when they entered a room you looked because the very flavor of the air changed to something visceral, horseflesh, leather and cigars. She experienced a flutter in her heart like she hadn’t felt in 30 years when she looked at the Duke of Blusterfuss. He was a real man, she knew it not only from her own superficial observation, but from the mouths of mutual friends. Many disapproved of the time he spent at his estate, the tales of how invested he was in the business of running it, the fact that he engaged quite closely with his farmers in the proper breeding of his animals, personally selecting the best bitch for his hunting dogs, bringing the horses with the best bloodlines into his stables. His masculinity made Tirinia quiver. If she were just 30 years younger... she would be married, but in the very least she would have taken him behind one of the over-sized hothouse flower pots and given him the time of his life with her vast experience. Looking at his hands, she imagined he could even teach her a thing or two, and that was not something she had thought in decades.

  So thrilling! It was almost a shame to waste him on Ramona, who seemed so clueless, but surely she would thank Tirinia for it in the future, when she was grasping that young buck between her slender thighs. So invigorating!

  Chapter Three

  Tirinia made up a new itinerary. Their social obligations became the Duke of Blusterfuss, George Flanders’ as well. She finagled invitations to parties, teas, suppers and musical performances that she barely had a right to attend. They became interested in plays and operas that were previously overlooked. By the end of two weeks they had seen George Flanders at ten different affairs, and he had come to linger with them in conversation, finding Ramona's disinterested interestingness beguiling. Tirinia told many amusing stories from her youth, George had much to say about his childhood, and Ramona found herself occasionally caught up in an unexpected camaraderie, more like friendship than any of the romantic entanglements she had thus enjoyed.

  People were talking. The small group gathered in the corner at Lord Harbor's concerto, raptly engaged in intellectual converse. Tirinia arranged for her dearest friends to seat Ramona and George side by side at their dinner parties, she even arranged for George to be invited unexpectedly to a few he couldn’t find reason to deny. A genuine rapport had been built.

  Ramona barely noticed as her regular suitors came to her side less and less, and noticed not at all how they stood in the wings scowling at the Duke of Blusterfuss. When her mother made some tantalizing mention of future wedding bells, having heard from so many that Ramona and the Duke of Blusterfuss were practically inseparable, she wondered which young man of her many her mother was promoting. She was remained clueless.

  The Duke himself found nothing harmful in this friendship. He was hardly ever alone with Ramona, unless holding her at arm’s length on a dance floor full of hundreds could be considered alone, and she seemed attentive and amusing without appearing cloying, clingy, needy or overly flirtatious, as so many women were when faced with an unmarried Duke. He admitted that she was a beautiful creature and he felt himself perhaps feeling something other than friendship or brotherly affection when she looked up at him with her startling blue eyes lit with laughter, but he was a strong man, well used to keeping his masculine needs in check, and since he trusted himself not to appear overly interested, and she herself had exhibited this trait time and again, he saw no harm in continuing a mutually entertaining relationship with this young woman and her elderly aunt.

  Tirinia enjoyed many secret smiles over the days, evenings and weeks spent chaperoning this young couple. She caught the admiration in the Duke of Blusterfuss' eyes when Ramona was wearing a particularly dashing gown, had her hair piled particularly high to show off her slender white neck or dress cut low to reveal her tantalizing decolletage. From there Tirinia promoted certain styles of hair and dress that she had observed the Duke admiring. Ramona became more and more to his taste with every viewing, and the crafty Tirinia was more aware of this than anyone else involved.

  A very important party was coming up. Tirinia had arranged for an invitation because the house was well known for it's elaborate mazes and gardens, perfect for romantic liaisons, and used for this purpose by many young couples throughout the years. She thought that finally the moment had come. When she helped Ramona into her slippers on the evening of the ball, she slipped a small pin into to the sole of the Burgundy silk shoes, just enough that with extended walking it would prod the girl obnoxiously without causing any real harm. As planned Ramona arrived in high spirits, and because she had not been taken to dancing with many partners of late, did not protest when Tirinia asked that she remain seated with her for the duration of many turns. Tirinia claimed a slight light-headedness, a problem of her age, she said, though in fact she felt as spry and excited as she had in her own youth, anticipating a garden liaison of her own, so many years before.

  When the Duke arrived and made his turn of the room, exchanging pleasantries with many friends and acquaintances, Ramona was sipping her champagne idly and listening head half cocked to Tirinia's long list of ailments.

  "Oh look, here is our Duke," Tirinia said, spying his approach, "I must find the strength to be a good companion to you both."

  Ramona looked up, attention suddenly c
aught. She was surprised by the sudden emotion in her breast when she saw the swarthy northerner. She recalled this feeling, she had felt it before at the sight of several young men, but she had expected it then, with their dazzling good looks and her corsets combined, a little dizziness was expected. Surely she had never noticed how fine George Flanders' jawline was, how very fine indeed.

  "Ah, my dearest Tirinia," he said on his approach, "and her sister, I believe," he jibed, smirking over Ramona's hand.

  "You insult the poor child!" Tirinia said with a delighted giggle.

  "No indeed," Ramona said, reaching over to give Tirinia's hand a squeeze, "You are looking particularly lovely this evening, Aunt, your coloring is so high, though I fear it is because you are feeling unwell."

  Tirinia's eyes widened. Could Ramona be cleverer than she had given credit, was this an accident or was she playing into Tirinia's plan on purpose? Had she already felt the poke of the pin in her delicate little foot? Whatever the case, she was delighted to have a lead-in to her next course of action.

  "Oh, perhaps so, perhaps a turn in the gardens would do me well, fresh air and the vitality of action. Will you please accompany me, both of you, I should hate to be deprived of our conversation, I do so thrive on it, I feel." Just like that they were on their way out the french doors.