Authors: Judith McNaught
Tags: #Fiction, #General, #Romance, #Contemporary, #Historical
At the bottom of the staircase, Captain Farrell, the duchess, and Charles smiled with relief when there was only silence upstairs.
The duchess was the first to speak. “Well, Atherton,” she said sternly, “I daresay you now know how it feels to meddle in young people’s lives and then to bear the consequences of failure, as I have had to bear them all these years.”
“I must go up and talk to Victoria,” he said, his eyes on the empty balcony. “I have to explain that I did what I did because I thought she would be
happier
with Jason.” He took one step forward, but the duchess’s cane came up in front of him, barring his path.
“Do not even
consider
barging in on them,” her grace ordered arrogantly. “I am wishful of a great-great-grandson, and unless I mistake the matter, they are even now attempting to provide me with one.” Grandly, she added, “You may, however, offer me a glass of sherry.”
Charles dragged his gaze from the balcony and looked intently at the old woman he had hated for more than two decades. He had suffered for his meddling for only two days; she had been doing so for twenty-two years. Hesitantly, he offered his arm to her. For a long moment the duchess looked at it, knowing it was a peace offering, and then she slowly laid her thin hand upon his sleeve. “Atherton,” she declared as he escorted her toward the drawing room. “Dorothy has taken some maggot in her head about remaining a maiden and becoming a musician. I have decided she shall marry Winston instead, and I have a plan . . .”