Page 7 of Ruby in the Rough (Heiress #4)

Chapter

Seven

T hankfully, just at that moment, Jane swept back into the parlor with her usual cheerful bustle, saving Cordelia from having to prolong the awkward conversation with the duke.

“Brother,” she said, her tone bright and teasing, “thank you so much for keeping Lady Cordelia company.” She didn’t add you may leave now , but the implication rolled off every syllable with effortless grace.

The duke inclined his head, a flicker of amusement tugging at his mouth as though he caught his sister’s meaning perfectly. “Of course,” he said, his voice warm yet reserved. “It was my pleasure—as always. Ladies, I hope you enjoy your tea.”

With that, he bowed and left the room, the door shutting softly behind him.

Lady Jane flopped down on the settee where Cordelia joined her and let out a small, triumphant sigh. “That man is insufferably serious sometimes, is he not? I swear, he looks at me as if I am about to bring scandal upon the family simply by breathing too loudly.”

Cordelia laughed despite herself, but her gaze lingered for a heartbeat on the memory of the duke’s retreating figure—on the tall line of his back, the precise cut of his coat, the effortless way he carried himself even when doing nothing more than walking.

A footman entered, carrying a small tray with a gleaming silver tea service. Plates of delicate sandwiches and small fruit tarts were arranged neatly, their sugared tops making Cordelia’s stomach rumble, reminding her of how hungry she in fact was.

“Thank you, Thomas,” Lady Jane said, her smile bright as ever. Once the servant bowed and left, she leaned forward, hands clasped together as if she had been holding back a secret all day.

“Now,” she said, lowering her voice with theatrical flair, “I have something to tell you. Something I’ve been positively bursting to share.”

Cordelia arched an eyebrow, intrigued by her eagerness. “It sounds terribly mysterious. Do tell before I expire from curiosity.”

Jane grinned. “As it happens, I was in my brother’s library this morning—to leave a note of our shopping plans, of course. But as I was there I happened to glance at his desk. And what do you think I saw?”

“I could not possibly guess.”

“A stack of invitations for the Season’s upcoming events! Some I knew of, naturally—balls and soirées we are already planning to attend. But there was one… One I had never seen before. I’m certain it is an invitation to an event for the demi-monde not so much the beau monde…”

Cordelia leaned closer, curiosity piqued. “Really?”

“Yes, a ball at Greenwich Park. An annual affair so the invitation states, though not the sort to which you or I would ever be invited. Apparently, women of good standing needn’t attend.

It’s a gentlemen’s affair , from all accounts, with music, gambling, and,” she paused, “behavior that would make any mama faint.”

Cordelia blinked. “How scandalous. But why would your brother…”

“Because him and men of his ilk are dull and false creatures when in polite company.” Jane’s lips thinned into a displeased line. “They need their little escapes from decorum. And that,” she added with an arch look, “is where I have a plan.”

Cordelia set her teacup down, enthralled and apprehensive in equal measure. “This sounds like one of those statements that ends in mischief. What are you proposing?”

“Simple,” her friend said, eyes alight. “We dress as men. We wear wigs and cravats and all the proper trappings of men’s attire. We attend this mysterious ball and see for ourselves what happens when the gentlemen think no ladies are watching.”

Cordelia’s eyes widened. “Dress as men ? That is utterly impossible. Not to mention improper.”

“Precisely why it will work.” Jane grinned.

“No one will suspect us. We’ll be just two anonymous fellows enjoying the evening.

And think of the information we’ll gain!

Why, we might uncover what these so-called suitors of ours are truly like.

Are they gallant when they think no one’s looking?

Or are they—” she waved a hand dramatically “—utter rascals?”

Cordelia tried to protest, but the idea had already begun to stir something heedless inside her.

It was daring. It was wildly improper. And yet, how many times had she wondered what men did when left to their own devices?

Society treated them as paragons of strength and charm, but she suspected more than a little foolishness went on behind closed doors.

“When is this ball?” she asked, trying not to sound too eager.

“Tonight.”

“Tonight?”

“Yes, tonight,” Jane stated matter-of-factly. “And as fortune would have it, neither of us is otherwise engaged. I have already procured the attire—gentlemen’s coats, waistcoats, breeches, and wigs. My maid has all in hand in a truck in my room, her chore while we were shopping this afternoon.”

“You were quite certain of my attendance with you, were you not?”

“Well,” Jane sipped her tea quickly, “I know you well enough to predict that your sense of adventure outweighs your sense of caution and I know you do not wish to marry a man who secretly has a mistress he will not give up. This evening we shall learn all we need to know to form a respectable and happy match.”

Cordelia could not argue that fact. “You may be right. I suppose the opportunity is too intriguing to ignore. Heaven knows, it would be entertaining to see what men do when there are no ladies to judge them.”

“Then we are in agreement? You will come?”

Cordelia nodded. “Agreed, I shall.”

Jane clapped her hands in delight. “Splendid! We shall leave after eight. My brother will be out by then. We will take a hackney to Greenwich, no one shall ever know.”

Cordelia hesitated, biting her lip. “And how exactly do we…pretend to be men? I fear my voice alone may give us away.”

“Oh, do not fret about that.” Jane waved her concerns aside. “With the right clothes and a confident swagger, no one will question us, nor do we have to speak to anyone. I’ve already practiced walking like my brother.”

Cordelia laughed so hard she nearly spilled her tea. “I would pay to see that.”

“You shall, tonight,” her friend teased. “And I am determined to catch out any of the gentlemen who have been bowing so gracefully before us and see what they’re truly about.”

At this, Cordelia’s heart gave a small, unwelcome leap. Would Walpole be there? The thought of seeing the duke in such an unguarded setting—without the rigid mask of decorum—was both thrilling and terrifying. Worse was the fear that mayhap she would not like what she learned of him.

She tried to push the thought away and instead focus on the task at hand. “Very well. But we must promise each other we will not do anything foolish. We are there only to observe, nothing more.”

“Agreed.”

Over the next hour they discussed every possible detail of their plan—the timing, the disguises, how they would slip back to Mayfair without detection.

Cordelia’s initial reluctance turned into a bubbling excitement.

Their actions were like something out of a novel—a daring escapade under the cover of night, a chance to see the truth behind the carefully polished veneer of society.

As they finished their tea, Jane leaned back into the settee, looking immensely pleased with herself. “Oh, Cordelia, it will be glorious. We shall uncover all the secrets men think are theirs alone. Just imagine the gossip we’ll have after tonight.”

Cordelia chuckled, though there was a nervous flutter in her stomach. “Heaven help us both if we are caught.”

Jane shook her head. “We won’t be. We’ll be clever, and discreet, and perfectly disguised. Besides, I dare say fortune favors the bold.”

Cordelia glanced toward the door where the duke had vanished earlier, his commanding presence still lingering in her mind. If he was at the Greenwich ball tonight, then fortune’s favor could very well lead to disaster.

But it was too late now. The plan was made, and there was no going back.