How to Dance With a Duke (26 page)

But Cecily was not so optimistic. Ever since they’d been unable to find the journals in the Egyptian Club, she had begun to wonder if there were not some more powerful forces at work in this instance.

But, not wishing to press Lucas, on this morning of all mornings, she held her tongue and decided to ask him for more information later. When they were alone. The very idea of which sent a thrill of anticipation through her and a blush to her cheeks. Which was noted, doubtlessly, by the well-wishers who greeted them as they alighted from the carriage in Grosvenor Square.

“My dear,” Violet said as Cecily stepped into the dining room, “I have never seen you look lovelier.”

“Your mama would be so proud,” Lady Entwhistle added, kissing Cecily on the cheek before she linked her arm in Lucas’s and led him away to greet the other guests.

He glanced over his shoulder and winked at his new bride before he disappeared into the crowd.

The room was already filling up with both those who had attended the wedding and the dozens more who were invited to the breakfast only. Though Cecily and Lucas had thought to keep the celebration small, Violet had insisted that in order to appease the gossipmongers they must invite as many prominent members of the
ton
as possible. “Thank you, Violet,” Cecily returned, giving her stepmother an affectionate hug. “And thank you so much for your help in planning the event itself. I would not have known where to begin.”

Violet was saved a reply by the appearance of Cecily’s new mother-in-law, Lady Michael Dalton, and William Dalton’s wife, Mrs. Clarissa Dalton.

“Congratulations, my dear,” Winifred said warmly, kissing Cecily on the cheek.

They had only met a few days before the wedding, but Cecily had found Lucas’s mother to be a practical, good-natured sort of woman, who, while pleased about her son’s inheritance of the dukedom, was not the least bit interested in using it to elevate her own standing with the
ton.

“For all that my husband was the son of a duke,” she confided in Cecily over tea in Violet’s drawing room, “he never put on the sort of airs one would expect of one of such high birth. He was a clergyman first and foremost. And I knew that when I married him.

“Not,” she added, her eyes intent upon Cecily, “that I would expect you or Lucas to deny yourselves the comforts that the dukedom affords, of course.”

Her expression seemed to imply otherwise, as if she were testing Cecily to see just what her reaction to such a proposal might be. She might have objected to such a test if she had been the mercenary sort of woman Lady Michael must have suspected her to be. But since she was marrying him out of necessity rather than a desire to become a duchess, she was comfortable in dispelling his mother’s fears.

“To be honest, Lady Michael,” she said, “I haven’t actually considered just what Lucas’s status might entitle me to.”

While Lady Michael seemed to believe her, William Dalton’s wife, Clarissa, scoffed. “You’ll forgive me if I doubt you, Miss Hurston, but I find the notion of such selflessness to be implausible at best.”

“And at worst?” Cecily asked, feeling an intense dislike for the other woman. She did understand how difficult her lot must be with Will missing, but it gave her no right to be rude to Cecily.

“At worst,” she replied with a frown, “it is a bald untruth meant to win over the goodwill of Winterson’s mama so that she will leave you to your own devices once you are the duchess.”

“Clarissa,” Lady Michael said with a sharpness Cecily doubted was usual with her. “You are here at my request. And I now request that you wait for me in the carriage.”

A mutinous set to Mrs. Dalton’s mouth told Cecily that she did not particularly wish to adhere to her mother-in-law’s request, but perhaps seeing that she risked alienating her further, Clarissa muttered some inane good-bye and left the room.

“I do apologize for my daughter-in-law, my dear,” Lady Michael said with a sigh. “She has never been the most pleasant person, but my son William’s disappearance has brought out the worst in Clarissa, I fear.”

“Think nothing of it, my lady,” Cecily reassured her. “I know it must be difficult for both of you dealing with Mr. Dalton’s absence.”

“If we knew something,” Lady Michael said, her pain evident in her voice, “anything at all, I think we would all feel a great deal better. Not knowing is…”

Knowing from her own experience with her father that there was nothing she could say that would alleviate the other woman’s pain, Cecily reached out and took the older lady’s hand in hers and squeezed it.

“But what am I thinking?” Lady Michael said with a shake of her head. “We are here because of a happy occasion.”

“But the sad occasions make the happy ones that much more satisfying, do they not?” Cecily asked with a smile.

“They do indeed, Miss Hurston,” Winterson’s mother said with a smile of her own. “I do wish my Michael were still here to meet you. He’d like you very much, I think.”

Pleased by the compliment, Cecily allowed her to steer the conversation toward wedding details and less serious matters. She found she liked Lady Michael very much, and when the older woman rose to take her leave it was with a real sense of fondness that Cecily wished her good-bye.

Now, standing before Lady Michael and Clarissa, her vows to Winterson having been solemnized, Cecily reached out her hands to both women. “Congratulations, Your Grace,” Clarissa said with what looked more like a grimace than a smile. “I can only hope that your marriage will be a happy one, like mine to my dearest William has been.”

Since Cecily knew now that Clarissa and William had been far from happily wed, she realized that the woman’s good wishes were worth little; still she thanked the woman prettily, and offered her hope that William Dalton might be found alive very soon.

“For your husband was always a great favorite of my father’s,” Cecily assured her. “Indeed, he was a favorite with me as well. Mr. Dalton was unfailingly cheerful in the face of my father’s temper and they worked quite well together.”

“Yes.” Clarissa frowned. “William worked quite well with everyone except for his family.” Then, perhaps realizing she had said too much, Clarissa excused herself to adjourn to the ladies’ retiring room.

Lucas’s mother shook her head sadly as she, Violet, and Cecily watched her walk from the room. “She was always a difficult young woman, but since William’s disappearance she has become positively unpleasant.”

“Have no fear, Lady Michael,” Cecily assured her. “I know it has been a trying time for her.”

Lady Michael gave a sad smile. “Well, she and I will be taking ourselves away to Bath for the next few weeks in order to give you and my eldest some privacy in these first few days of your marriage.”

When Cecily protested, the older lady raised her hand in a forestalling motion. “Pray, my dear, do not speak of it any further. Marriage is difficult enough without having one’s dour sister-in-law and a busybody mother-in-law meddling in one’s business.”

“I must admit,” Violet said on a laugh, “I was quite fortunate that when I married Hurston his mother had already passed away. Not that I don’t believe she was a delightful lady, of course.”

“There,” Winifred said, nodding, “listen to your stepmama. Besides, we will have more than enough time to become better acquainted once you and Lucas are settled in together.”

Before she could move further into the room, Cecily was stopped by Amelia Snowe, who had come with her parents. She had already come through the receiving line, so Cecily wasn’t sure what else the beauty could want with her.

“Cecily,” she said haughtily, looking the new bride up and down, “I didn’t get to say so before, but you are looking quite well. Much better than I’d have thought you could in such a short time. You are quite transformed.”

Reminding herself that she was to be on her best behavior, Cecily bit back the retort she wished to give Amelia, and replaced it with a brisk thanks.

“I shouldn’t have thought you’d be able to bring Winterson up to scratch,” the other girl continued, a nasty gleam in her eye, “but I suppose when one is willing to compromise oneself, one’s odds of contracting a match are raised considerably.”

Cecily had thought she knew what depths Amelia was willing to sink to in order to further her spiteful agenda, but this was beyond even Cecily’s comprehension. Was Amelia actually insulting her to her face at her wedding breakfast?

“Amelia,” she said, her anger belied by her calm voice, “you are a—”

She was interrupted by the arrival of Lucas, who slipped a proprietary arm around her waist.

“I see you’ve come to wish us happy, Miss Snowe,” he said to the blonde, his manner pleasant but firm. “It’s quite kind of you to take time out of your busy social schedule to attend our nuptials. Some have suggested that you only came for the opportunity to gather gossip and to snub my new bride, but I told them that you weren’t that ill-mannered.”

Cecily watched with burgeoning satisfaction as Amelia’s face turned from slightly pink to rose red as Lucas continued. “You won’t make a liar out of me, will you, Miss Snowe?” Amelia’s mouth opened and closed, once, twice, three times, before she shut it with an audible snap as her teeth came together.

Finally, she plastered a patently false expression of sincerity on her face, clearly unwilling to offend Lucas despite her enmity toward his new wife, and said, “Of course not, Your Grace. I … I thank you.”

And, desperate to get away from the newlyweds, she made an inarticulate sound and hurried away.

“That,” Cecily said, laying her head on her husband’s shoulder, “was marvelous. I don’t think I’ve ever seen her speechless before.”

“She’s lucky I only gave her a set-down,” Lucas said with a frown. “If she were a man I would have called her out for insulting you. As it is, I think words and her fear of social ostracism should work in our favor from now on.”

Cecily felt a rush of warmth for this man who had known her for only a few weeks but was ready to come to her defense so readily, with no questions asked.

“Now,” he said, reaching down to give her hand a squeeze, “I must go hunt down Monteith. Will you be all right?”

“Yes,” she said with a laugh. “I don’t think I’ll have any more trouble with her. At least not today. Besides, I need to tell Maddie and Juliet about how you just routed our mortal enemy.”

“Excellent,” he said with a grin. “I like slaying dragons for you. I think I’ll enjoy this husbanding business.”

At the thought of what else this husbanding business would entail, Cecily felt a blush rising, and hurried away to join her cousins, who were stationed near a large potted palm.

*   *   *

As Cecily’s bridesmaids, both of them were dressed in green, though in shades that complemented their individual coloring. They were meant to be the leaves and stems to Cecily’s bloom. Madeline was quietly pretty in a pale green gown—with puffed sleeves and a contrasting dark green ribbon gathered beneath the bosom—that emphasized her hazel eyes and light blond hair. And Juliet, in a deep green gown of similar cut, wore her red tresses in the same style twist as Maddie’s, and was looking better than Cecily had ever seen her.

“What’s amiss?” Madeline said, taking Cecily’s hand. “It can be nothing to do with your appearance. I don’t think I’ve ever seen a lovelier bride.”

“She’s right.” Juliet grinned, taking her other hand. “You are quite transformed.”

“Careful,” Cecily warned, taking her cousin’s words for the dry jest they were. “That”s what Amelia Snowe told me just before she was given a spectacular set-down by my new husband.”

“Oh, I’m so sorry we missed it!” Madeline said, her eyes lighting with glee. “Was she very angry?”

As Cecily recounted the incident to them, her cousins grew more and more animated.

“I’ll bet she was furious,” Juliet said with a grin.

“I just wish the rest of polite society could see her for what she is,” Maddie said with a frown. “A vain and spiteful bully.”

“Yes, well, the
ton
rarely if ever does what it should,” Cecily said ruefully. “Though perhaps now she will stop making us the object of her derision.”

“We can but hope,” Maddie said. “But let’s not let Amelia ruin our morning. Though one does wonder how she ended up receiving an invitation.”

“I’m sure it was Violet’s doing,” Cecily said with a sigh. “She is forever going on to me about how I should try to make peace with Amelia, if only to ensure that she ends her ‘Ugly Duckling’ campaign. Though I have a feeling Winterson’s slight will have more effect on her than anything I could possibly do.”

“Indeed,” Juliet agreed. “Though it is lowering to know that a gentleman has been more effective on this score than we have.”

“So,” Maddie said, changing the topic, “tell us where you are going on your wedding journey. Are we to be dreadfully jealous?”

“We are staying here in London,” Cecily replied, her mood growing somber. “Neither of us wants to be too far in the event that there is some change in Papa’s condition, or some news comes regarding Winterson’s brother.”

“Very sensible.” Juliet nodded in approval. “I don’t suppose there has been any change with Lord Hurston, has there?”

“No.” Cecily frowned. “He is still insensible. I worry that he may never recover, though the physician assures us that there have been cases where men much older than Papa have gone on to make a full recovery.”

Their conversation was interrupted by the approach of Mr. George Vinson, whose customary bluff humor was marred by a look of reproach.

“You are a beautiful bride, Your Grace,” he said, bowing over her hand. “Winterson is a lucky fellow. First Knighton’s bays and now you. If I didn’t know better I’d suspect the fellow was trying to ape my dashing style.”

As jests went it was a lame one, but then Vinson was not known for his wit.

“Thank you, Mr. Vinson,” Cecily acknowledged. “I daresay there are much worse men for Winterson to emulate. Though I suspect in this case the connection is mere coincidence.”

“What’s this I’ve heard about a curse, Miss … er … Your Grace?” Vinson asked. “Miss Snowe sounded quite serious about it.”