Page 11 of Corrupting his Duchess (A Duke’s Undoing #1)

Gretchen tipped her head toward Anna, who sat rigidly, “But you didn't really see, did you? You were far away from us.”

Lady Daphne sniffed. “One doesn’t need to be close when the tension was practically vibrating across the lawn.”

“That was quite a display,” drawled Miss Clarissa Lonsdale from the opposite chaise. She was all lemon yellow and saccharine smiles, sweet on the surface, bitter underneath. “I do hope you’re not encouraging him, Anna.”

Anna blinked. “Encouraging whom?”

Clarissa arched an eyebrow. “The Duke, of course. You two seemed terribly… involved.”

Lady Daphne waved a gloved hand. “If a gentleman were to behave with such, shall we say, focus, one might assume certain… intentions.”

Clarissa set down her teacup with precision. “Unless, of course, it’s simply a game. He is known for a kind of charm that borders on… misleading.”

There was a flicker of movement in the room, glances exchanged like cards across a table.

Julia, sprawled in a chair near the window with a biscuit halfway to her mouth, paused. Her eyes narrowed like a cat watching a mouse show its throat.

“I assure you,” Anna said coolly, gathering the edges of her dignity like a shawl, “we were merely speaking.”

Clarissa gave a little huff. “It didn’t sound like mere speaking. You were flirting. In front of the whole party.”

Anna’s cheeks burned. “That wasn’t my intention.”

“Intentions mean little,” Clarissa said, her voice silk-wrapped steel. “What matters is perception. And people are watching.”

“We don’t recall asking for a commentary,” Gretchen said sharply.

Clarissa ignored her, eyes fixed on Anna like a hound with a scent.. “You do know what people will say, don’t you? A young lady seen behaving that way with a man known to have no intentions of marriage, well, it invites talk.”

“You and the Duke of Yeats are fast becoming a subject,” she added, lifting her brows.

“And it doesn’t help that everyone knows he’s declared, very publicly, I might add, that he doesn’t intend to marry.

Ever. It would be terribly unfortunate if a young lady’s name became…

entangled. Especially when there is another suitor with more obvious designs. ”

Gretchen placed her cup down softly. “Entanglement requires impropriety, and I’ve yet to see any.”

Clarissa’s voice sharpened. “You’re quite protective, Lady Gretchen. One might mistake it for partisanship.”

“Not at all,” Gretchen said smoothly. “But I’ve found it prudent to judge women by their choices, not their observers.”

A silence. Then Gretchen leaned back, voice airily amused. “Well, if observers mattered so much, half the room would be engaged to the Duke by now. You especially.”

Clarissa flushed, just faintly.

Lady Daphne leaned forward, fan fluttering. “Don’t be tiresome, Clarissa. Everyone’s been talking. It was, what—five Seasons ago?”

She glanced toward Anna, then lowered her voice conspiratorially.

“—it’s been said he nearly proposed to a viscount’s daughter. Or was it a marquess? No one quite agrees, which of course only makes it more intriguing.”

Lady Penelope gave a delicate sniff. “It was all very discreet at first—no formal announcement, but everyone expected it. She was everywhere he was. And then?—”

“She disappeared,” Lady Daphne supplied with relish. “Just vanished from Society. And he went to Scotland.”

“More than once,” Clarissa added. “They say he hasn’t stayed a full Season in London since.”

“Which, frankly,” Clarissa said with a tight smile, “is code for heartbroken.”

“There were letters,” Daphne whispered. “That’s how he found out. From her. Laughing about how easy it had been. Something about men with titles being easier to fool than terriers with scraps.”

Penelope gasped, delighted. “Surely not in those words?”

“That’s how I heard it,” Lady Daphne said primly, “though perhaps more poetically phrased.”

Anna said nothing. Her fingers had tightened slightly on her fan.

“When he returned, he told everyone—quite plainly—that he had no interest in marriage. Ever again.”

Clarissa gave a knowing look. “Some wounds leave a permanent distaste.”

“And now,” Lady Daphne added with a pointed glance at Anna, “everyone sees him looking at you. Of course people will wonder.”

She trailed off dramatically, letting her eyes widen with theatrical relish.

Anna said nothing.

But she could feel every eye on her. Every carefully modulated breath in the room.

Gretchen glanced sideways. “A pity how convenient stories become legend without ever being confirmed.”

“Perhaps,” Clarissa replied sweetly. “But I’d rather not see any friend of mine set her heart on a man who hasn’t one left to give.”

Julia set her biscuit down with careful precision. “Clarissa.”

“Yes?”

“If there’s anything more exhausting than listening to a woman clutch her pearls over another woman’s conversation, it’s watching her do it while visibly pining for the same man.”

The room went still.

Clarissa flushed. “I don’t know what you mean.”

“You do,” Julia said sweetly, “but don’t worry. We all pretend not to notice when you corner him and laugh like a broken wind chime. It’s very gallant of us, truly.”

Anna’s eyes widened. Gretchen bit her lip.

Clarissa sputtered, “Well…I…It’s hardly appropriate.”

“What’s hardly appropriate is policing someone else’s reputation when you’re hoping to trip into a title by next season.”

Clarissa’s mouth dropped open. “How dare you!”

Julia turned to her with a soft, dangerous smile. “Darling. You’re in a room full of women who know exactly how the game is played. Don’t insult us.”

Julia rose, brushing crumbs from her skirts and reaching for her sister’s hand. “Well, this has been charming. Absolutely brimming with grace, subtlety, and the usual helping of claws.”

She smiled, not kindly.

“Do try not to flay each other while I’m gone.”

Then, to her sister seated quietly near the corner, “Natalie, love, we’re going. You’ve absorbed enough feminine virtue for one afternoon.”

Anna looked on absently, still half-lost in thought.

Julia leaned down as she passed and whispered in Anna’s ear, “Third door on the left, east wing. Not that I think you’ll use that information, of course.”

Anna’s breath caught. She turned to say something, but Julia was already straightening, her expression the very picture of innocence.

“Goodnight, ladies,” Julia called out lightly, tugging Natalie along with a grin.

Anna stared after her, stunned. Gretchen leaned in and murmured, “You have to admit, she’s effective.”

Clarissa sat stiffly, lips pressed thin.

Anna swallowed and stood too. The echo of Julia’s words, and Clarissa’s, buzzed at her temples.

Everyone knows he doesn’t intend to marry.

And yet… Everyone was watching them.

She took a breath. She had to speak to him. Tonight.

As the door clicked shut behind them, an awkward hush fell.

Gretchen cleared her throat. “Well. I have correspondence to finish.”

“I should check on my mother,” Sophia added quickly.

One by one, the ladies began to make their exits, voices dropping as they murmured their goodbyes, leaving Anna to her thoughts.