The Marquess and Miss Davies Read Online Free Page A

a family so old and distinguished that it was rumoured even the Prince Regent found them intimidating. As the duke’s son, Lord Harcourt was firmly ensconced within the highest reaches of the ton . He knew everyone, was received everywhere, and was Anthony’s oldest and best friend.
    He was also without a feather to fly on, an inevitable consequence of being the fifth—and last—son of a duke profligate even for the type, and brother to several sisters as well, each needing a dowry more generous than the last.
    Benjamin Harcourt bore these circumstances without complaint, living on credit and borrowing cheerfully from his friends, most especially the marquess, all of whom knew perfectly well that they would never be repaid.
    But it was in circumstances such as Lord Leighton now found himself that Lord Harcourt always proved his worth. Benjamin would know where to find the girl.
    * * * *
    “Certainly I know them,” said Lord Harcourt. “The twins. Difficult to say which one, of course. Although I might guess—”
    “Twins?”
    “You know what I mean, old man, born at the same time, look quite alike—” He hiccoughed a bit, and settled deeper into his chair.
    “I understand the concept,” said Anthony, patiently. He had only managed to run down Lord Harcourt late in the evening, at White’s, by which time his friend had consumed a great deal of brandy.
    “Well, then,” said the duke’s son, waving his hands in the air as if ‘twas all clear. “Miss Isolde and Miss Carys Davies, lately of Pencarrow in Cornwall. I’ve known the family for ages.”
    In Benjamin’s case, this could mean anything from a decade to ‘just introduced last Tuesday’, but it hardly mattered. Acquaintance was enough for the entrée of a marquess.
    Twins, thought Lord Leighton. He had no personal contact with such individuals—not previously, at any account—although he recalled that one of the former kings of France had been the father of twin daughters. ‘Twas unusual, and perhaps a complication, although Lord Leighton felt certain he would recognize the young woman he had spoken to, no matter how alike her sister.
    Benjamin’s head began to droop.
    “And where might I find these twins?” asked the marquess.
     “Mmm,” said Lord Harcourt.
    “Benjamin.”
    “Wha ... what?” said his friend, snorting slightly as his head came up, “Yes?”
    “The Davies twins. Where might they be found?”
    Lord Harcourt took a long drink of brandy, which seemed to fortify him. “Umm. Well, Miss Isolde Davies might be at any of the better dances, I should think. The Lincolnshire’s ball is any day now, is it not?”
    “‘Tis weeks away, I believe.”
    “Really? How odd.”
    “Both sisters would attend the ball, of course,” said Lord Leighton.
    Unexpectedly, Benjamin shook his head. “Possibly not. If you wish to meet Miss Carys Davies I’d try a lecture at the Royal Society.”
    “The Royal Society ?”
     “Lovely girl,” said Benjamin. “She adores the lectures.”
    The marquess did not attempt to extract any more information from Lord Harcourt, who had now sunk so deeply into the overstuffed armchair that ‘twould be a chore to extract him later, as Anthony had good reason to know. Besides, there was no real need, as he had already heard enough.
    His young woman, his twin, was Carys.
    Lord Leighton could not explain how he was so sure. Carys. The Royal Society. It simply had the feeling of something always known.
    Was she truly a bluestocking? He knew few ladies who would willingly attend a lecture when a dance was to be had in its stead, not to mention that many of his friends believed that the Royal Society’s halls should be reserved for gentlemen. Lord Pollifax grew quite heated on the subject, as Anthony recalled.
    The fairer sex could not be admitted to have much reason, let alone an interest in the sciences. If they were acknowledged reasonable, of what could the men complain?
    The marquess found this latter