She’d wanted to be a Duchess, for as long as she could recall. When she was a young lady, she’d attended a Christmas party, here at Gillingham Manor. She recalled the Duchess, dressed in a fine cream-colored silk gown, and how everyone had called her Your Grace, and she’d smiled beatifically.
The house, the title, the handsome Duke—it was all supposed to be hers. Who cared for love? Most people married for titles and all the fancy trappings. Marriage was a contract, a business agreement—not a romance story.
They were parting, now—the dance was over. He bowed to her, his eyes on Selina as he kissed her hand. Selina blushed again, then turned and disappeared into the crowd. The Duke watched her go, his eyes wide. It was awful to watch.
Selina didn’t even need to marry. Upon her father’s death, she would be independently wealthy, with ten-thousand pounds a year! She could afford to wait for silly things like love. Not to mention, her older brother doted upon her. He would happily let her live at the estate or their London townhouse for as long as she chose.
Leah, on the other hand—was three-and-twenty. If this didn’t work out, she’d be out on the market again. To be unmarried at four-and-twenty was nearly unheard of! This might be the best that she could hope for.
To become a spinster was out of the question. Leah shuddered.
* * *
As the music ended, Lady Selina curtsied to the Duke and smiled at him.
“I must say, Your Grace, this has been rather diverting,” she said. “I believe your bride-to-be is waiting for you.” She supposed that he’d wake up the next morning and realize that he’d made a mistake.
She looked in Leah’s direction. Her cousin was watching them closely, a look of rage on her face. The Duke of Gillingham looked at her, as though she’d slapped him.
He stepped toward her, taking her hand, leaning down to kiss it. His eyes were on hers.
“Until later, Lady Selina,” he said.
“Certainly, Your Grace,” she replied. She moved off, opening her fan, and waving it in front of her face as she walked toward the punch bowl.
It was a large silver bowl, and a male servant stood on the other side of the table with a ladle. He filled her a cup and handed it to her.
“Thank you,” she murmured, taking a sip. It was cool and sweet, with only the slightest taste of champagne. She walked around the room, watching the goings on. It was certainly a small affair, and almost everyone seemed to know each other.
She saw Leah and the Duke, across the room. His Grace looked miserable, while Leah was smiling widely. Selina worried that he was trying to use her for an excuse to flee a loveless match.
She resolved, then and there, to stay away from him. After all, love and infatuation were two very different things. And Selina meant to remain free unless it was truly love.
She would protect her heart—and her fortune. Not that the Duke of Gillingham was interested in that.
The whole business left her unsettled. After all, a pronounced engagement was a done deal. Calling it off would be a scandal of epic proportions. She doubted sincerely that the Duke was enough of a renegade to call it off over a chance brush with fate.
She laughed to herself. Tomorrow, this would have all faded away, like a strange dream.
When she glanced over at him, the Duke was staring at her. She held his gaze for a moment, feeling her cheeks heat up. In the pit of her belly, she felt a small rush. She was familiar with gentlemen looking at her like that. She’d never felt a response like this to it. She wanted it. She wanted him to look at her like that.
She turned away, walking out onto the terrace, to cool down and think as she sipped her punch, which was going straight to her head. Her cheeks warmed, and she had a light buzz.
No, it would never be. Not without hurting Leah, and Selina just couldn’t betray her cousin like that, whether Leah liked her or not. They were family.
She stared out at the garden, with little tealights all along the paths, then decided to go and find Aunt Georgiana. She finished her punch, then went to find her aunt.
“Aunt Georgiana?” she said, touching her aunt on the elbow.
“Darling! Are you having a good time?” she asked. Once again, Selina was reminded of her mother.
“Yes,” she said, fanning her face a little.
“Let me introduce you to Her Grace, the Dowager Duchess of Gillingham,” Aunt Georgiana said, turning back to the Dowager Duchess that she had been talking with.
“We’ve already had the pleasure,” the Dowager Duchess said.
Selina curtsied low. “It’s a pleasure to see you again, Your Grace. Thank you for having me on such short notice,” Selina said. “If I’d known that I was going to be arriving in time for such an elegant party, I’d have brought something finer to wear.”
The Dowager Duchess raised an eyebrow. “Finer than that dress?” She laughed. “Well, I can’t have you upstaging me in my own home, now can I?”
Aunt Georgiana’s eyes widened. Selina wasn’t cowed by the Dowager Duchess —there were many of her ilk all over London and Paris. The trick was to become friends with all—whether they seemed disagreeable on a first meeting or not.
“Well, I have to try, Your Grace,” she replied boldly. “My own mother would never forgive me.”
“Have I met your mother?” the Dowager Duchess asked. She snapped open her fan—ostrich plumes, to match her headgear.
“I imagine so, Your Grace,” Selina replied. “Lord and Lady Quinton are often at St. James’s.”
“Your sister?” The Dowager Duchess turned to Aunt Georgiana. “Is the Lady Quinton?”
“Yes, Your Grace.” Aunt Georgiana inclined her head, shooting Selina a look. Selina smiled back serenely at her aunt.
“I know your mother, My Lady,” the Dowager Duchess said, beaming. “She’s quite the fashion icon.”
“She would be pleased to hear you say that, Your Grace,” Selina replied, smiling. Her mother would have been ecstatic at the compliment.
“Why, why have your parents not come, as well?” The Dowager Duchess was glancing about, as if Selina’s parents were about to walk in.
“They’re in Paris, Your Grace.”
“Paris? At this time of year?” she fanned herself, shaking her head.
“My mother would say that Paris is best at any time of the year,” Selina said.
The Dowager Duchess laughed. “Such a delight, your mother. When you write to her next, do tell her that I send my regards.”
“Of course, Your Grace,” Selina murmured.
The Dowager Duchess made her polite excuses and then bustled off to go and attend other guests. Aunt Georgiana looked at Selina, who smiled.
“Do you often name-drop your own mother?” she asked her.
“It never hurts to own up to your own blood,” Selina said, opening her fan. It was obvious that the Dowager Duchess was a bit of a battle-ax. Selina herself intended to be one of the same at that age.
* * *
The party felt as though it were dragging on. Jasper found himself in a discussion with his fiancée, his mother, and their neighbor, Lady Morton.
“I’ve made the acquaintance of your cousin, Lady Selina,” his mother said.
Jasper watched his fiancée’s face fall.
“She’s a very fashionable young lady,” his mother said, approvingly.
“Yes,” Lady Leah said, her features rearranging into polite disdain. “She’s always a favorite.”
“Indeed? I can see why,” his mother said.
“I’ve not made her acquaintance,” Lady Morton said. “Whose daughter is she?”
“Lord and Lady Quinton,” Lady Leah said. “Their estate is in Hertfordshire.”
“So close to London!” Lady Morton mused.
“Indeed,” Lady Leah said. “They’re often in the City.”
“Don’t you wish that you could be in London more often?” his mother asked, looking at him, pointedly.
“No, Mother,�
�� he replied. “I do not.”
“Oh,” his mother exclaimed, stage-whispering to the other ladies. “He would never be in polite society if he could help it. He’d rather spend his day in the barn with the horses.”
He smiled, forbearing the comment. It was mostly true. Luckily, Stephen was coming their way. He bowed to the ladies.
“Lord Sandbourne!” Lady Morton said. “Have you made the acquaintance of Lady Selina?”
“I have,” Stephen said. “I find her to be a genial lady. Very kind. Very proper.” He nodded approvingly. Stephen rarely had anything bad to say about anyone.
Jasper glanced over at Lady Leah, who looked as though she’d sucked on a lemon. He looked at Stephen, who sidled up next to him. The ladies began to discuss other guests who were there.
“How are you holding up, there, old bean?” Stephen asked in a low voice.
Jasper sighed. “As well as can be expected,” he replied.
* * *
It was getting late. The candles in the hall were beginning to burn low. The room was quite warm. The last dance had just ended, and the few couples bowed and curtsied to one another. The musicians ended the tune with a flourish.
Everyone clapped, applauding them.
Selina fanned herself as she stood beside her aunt and uncle. She’d danced for most of the night, and her slippers were beginning to pinch her toes.
“Well, I suppose we should bid our farewells,” Uncle Latimer mused. “It’s been a good night, hasn’t it?”
“The best, Uncle,” Selina agreed. She’d enjoyed herself. She slipped her hand into the elbow that her uncle offered her. Then, the three of them walked over to where the Dowager Duchess, Lady Leah, and the Duke of Gillingham all stood beside the door.
“We’re ready to take you home, my dear,” Uncle Latimer announced to Leah. “Your cousin has exhausted herself entirely. She’s danced with nearly every gentleman here, and she’s quite tired.”
Selina laughed.
“Have you had a good time, Lady Selina?” the Duke asked, beaming at her.
“I’ve very much enjoyed myself, Your Grace,” she said. “I kindly thank you for allowing me to come at last moment’s notice.”
“It’s my pleasure,” the Duke said, bowing to her. She felt her face go hot as she curtsied to him. Their eyes locked for a moment.
“I must say goodbye to Lady Morton,” Leah said. “Mother, you come, too.”
“Selina and I will call for the carriage to be brought round,” Uncle Latimer said.
Selina walked out of Gillingham Manor with her uncle, headed for their carriage.
“Don’t they look good together?” her uncle asked as they waited for the carriage to be brought around.
“Yes, very good,” Selina agreed, smiling. She knew that she felt a rush when she was near the attractive Duke, but she brushed it off as nothing more than mere fancy. With any luck, Lord Sandbourne would always be around. He was good for an interesting conversation, and nothing more.
* * *
Jasper and his mother walked Lady Leah and her mother to the landau that waited to take them to Kirby Hall. He offered her his hand.
“Thank you,” she said stiffly as he helped her up into the carriage. Something had happened at some point during the party, and she’d been bristly ever since. Jasper chalked it up to being tired.
Lady Selina and her aunt and uncle were waiting in the landau. Lady Selina’s face was turned away. He wished that she would look at him. He wondered what had caught her eye.
“Very soon, this will be all yours,” his mother told Lady Leah, taking both of her hands. “And I will get to go to my bed while you bid all of your guests goodnight.”
Lady Leah smiled at her. “Thank you, Your Grace.”
“You both must come to dine with us, tomorrow evening,” Lady Kirby said. “We can talk all about the party then.”
“We would be delighted, My Lady,” Jasper replied, bowing low.
“Good night, My Lady,” Jasper said to Lady Leah. He could hear the reserve in his own voice. He bowed, bringing her hand to his lips.
“Good night, Your Grace,” Lady Leah replied. Jasper shut the door. At that moment, Lady Selina turned back around, and their eyes met. Again, he felt thunderstruck, as he had when he’d first laid eyes on her. She smiled softly, raising her gloved hand in farewell. Then, he and his mother stood back, watching as the carriage pulled away down the long drive.
“That went very well,” his mother commented as they both waved. Lady Kirby and Lady Leah’s gloved hands were like small white birds, flapping its wings.
“Yes, very.” Jasper felt exhausted. But at the same time, exhilarated. Thoughts of Lady Selina filled his mind. She was unlike anyone he’d ever met before.
“I’m off to bed,” his mother said, leaving him at the front door.
Jasper kissed the air beside her cheek. “Goodnight, Mother.” He watched as she walked up the stairs.
Jasper had the strangest feeling that he’d been waiting for someone like Lady Selina to walk into his life. Now that she’d arrived, he didn’t know what to do.
Chapter Four
The next day, the party from Gillingham Manor was due to dine at Kirby Hall. Leah was anxious and out of sorts all day. She lost her temper at her lady’s maid, not once, but twice. Now that Selina had arrived, she needed to outshine her.
It had poured steadily, all day. She blamed her mood on the weather, which caused Kirby Hall to become drafty.
She arrived downstairs to dine, dressed in her yellow watered-silk gown. Yellow brought out the darkness of her hair and her eyes, and the soft cream tones in her skin. Around her neck, she had a delicate pearl necklace.
“Oh, darling,” her mother said, “you look like a picture.”
Father walked over to her. “I quite agree with your mother,” he said, squeezing her hand. Leah beamed.
The door opened, and the butler peered inside the drawing room. “The Duke of Gillingham, the Dowager Duchess of Gillingham, Lord Munro, and Lord Sandbourne, My Lord,” Mr. Wickes announced, standing aside so that the party could pass him.
“Welcome, welcome!” her father said as they entered. They all gathered together.
“Where’s the Lady Selina?” Lord Sandbourne asked. Leah felt her mood plummet.
“I hope she’s feeling well,” the Dowager Duchess murmured, her hand going to her lips.
Her mother frowned. “I haven’t heard anything. Perhaps I should send Wickes to go and see…”
Leah felt exasperated. Selina was late, and everyone still talked of her. The Duke walked over to her, smiling.
“Hello, My Lady,” he said, bowing.
“Your Grace,” Leah said as she curtsied. This was how it was supposed to go. He was supposed to give her preference, and smile at her, just in this way.
“Are you well today?” he asked.
“Very well,” she assured him with a smile. “Are you well?”
Then, Selina walked in. Leah’s stomach curdled as she beheld her cousin, who looked exactly like a porcelain doll. Selina was dressed in a pale-pink muslin dress, her hair fixed in a way that accentuated her heart-shaped face. She wore a delicate gold chain around her neck with one tear-drop pearl hanging from it.
“I’m sorry I’m late,” she murmured, actually having the nerve to laugh as she curtsied to the whole room! “It’s the funniest story, actually.”
Leah glanced around to find that everyone was beaming at her.
“Well, go on, My Lady,” Lord Sandbourne said. “What caused you to keep us waiting for your presence?”
“My maid had to fix my dress,” she said, turning to show them a long rip in the muslin, which had been neatly fixed so that it was nearly invisible. “You see, I tore it, trying to catch one of my letters, which had blown out through the window.”
“Lady Selina! Whatever possessed you to have a window open today?” The Dowager Duchess asked, scandalized. “You might have caught a cold.”
Leah was boiling inside. Here Selina was, the center of attention. And, for what? Ripping her dress while trying to save a piece of paper from blowing out through a window?
“I do love the scent of a good rain shower,” Selina replied. “I love writing with the fresh air coming into my room. And then the wind snatched my letter away! I couldn’t have my mother’s letter read by just anyone! Who knows what hands it would fall into!”
“And what secrets they would learn,” the Duke mused, his eyebrow quirked.
“Indeed, Your Grace,” Selina agreed, shaking her head. “No one should ever learn the secrets that my mother and I know of the latest Parisian fashions. It would be a scandal. All of London, in an uproar. We’d be exiled, and my poor mother would never forgive me.”
As everyone laughed, Leah gritted her teeth and raised her chin. Couldn’t they see through this? It was just Selina’s way of taking the attention for herself. Leah couldn’t recall a single Christmas where Selina hadn’t pulled some grand escapade and been the center of attention—except for the handful that she hadn’t been present.
“Your maid does a good job at repairs,” the Dowager Duchess said approvingly. “I wouldn’t have spotted it myself if you hadn’t pointed it out.”
“Heaven knows, Faith certainly earns her pay with me around,” Selina replied.
Leah could only watch in horror. She scanned everyone’s faces. They were all beaming at Selina in open adoration—including His Grace. Lord Munro was the only one, looking at Leah. He smiled at her, sadly. She didn’t want his pity, however well-intended. She looked away from him and down at her hands.
Leah wasn’t used to making herself the center of attention. She rarely spoke unless spoken to because that was what was expected of her. It was the ladylike thing to do. She recalled Lord Munro’s words from the night before. This was her turn to be the center of attention. All she had to do was take it.
“Your Grace?” she said, turning to the Duke.
“Yes, My Lady?” he asked, the duke’s eyes still on Selina.
Wild Passions of a Mischievous Duchess Page 30