In short, they ignored him. It was as though poor Lord Langford did not exist.

“And they call you Polite Society,” Ailis remarked with a grunt, knowing they were only polite when it served their interests.

Lord Langford suddenly glanced up and caught her spying. She hastily ducked out of sight, but not before she’d caught his frown.

Dear heaven. Who else might have seen her?

Likely no one, for he was the only one who knew the duke had a lady in his bedchamber, or even knew where the bedchamber was located. But she’d caught Lord Langford’s expression just before he had looked up and noticed her.

It was one of sadness and hurt.

This was how he must have spent his entire life, unseen within the expansive shadow of the duke.

And yet he clearly never blamed his brother for the constant slights he must have endured throughout the years.

Quite the opposite, he seemed to adore and worship Jonas, and the affection was obviously reciprocated.

It was not the duke’s fault that the ton regarded him as valuable while a second son was not.

These diamonds might have preferred Lord Langford as a husband rather than the duke, but would any of them ever admit it?

They were expected to make a successful match, although their definition of successful was not at all the same as Ailis’s.

Love was not a requirement in ton marriages. In fact, it was forcefully discouraged. Wealth, rank, and consolidation of power were deemed most important. Affection and warmth were longings left to be fulfilled by their paramours. This was why so many scandals broke out among these elite.

Still, who would not fall in love with this duke? Was he not the handsomest man in all of England? One of these fortunate ladies would have it all if he chose her.

“Ah, lucky girl,” Ailis said, taking a seat beside the hearth. There was a fire blazing in it, so she held her hands out to warm them while waiting for someone to return for her.

Her idle mind drifted once more to the duke.

If the man had any faults, it was that he frowned a lot and kept too much to himself. But his distancing himself from others, that quality of aloofness, also added to his allure. He was obviously handsome and considered dangerous because he maintained an aura of mystery about him.

But why was he so completely private about his life and experiences? Had the war changed him? Or was he always like this?

The walls around his heart were so firmly constructed that she did not know if any of those young hopefuls would ever break through and win his love.

What a pity. She sensed he would make a wonderful husband and father.

Ailis shot out of her seat when the servants’ door, hidden among the opulent rosewood paneling, opened and Jane returned. “What’s going on?”

The girl shook her head. “Mrs. Fitch sent me up here to tell you to sit tight and not move a muscle. The house is completely invaded and it is a madhouse downstairs. I cannot stay with you, Miss Temple. I’m needed to help settle the guests in their quarters.

None of those ladies are as nice as you. ”

“They must be tired after their long journey.”

“No, they are just petulant and full of their own importance.”

Ailis grinned. “Hush, Jane. One of them might be the next duchess.”

The girl rolled her eyes. “Oh, no. The duke is already eager to be rid of them.”

Ailis did not think this was really true, but she did not bother to comment on it.

Left alone once again, she let out a heavy breath and settled back in her chair beside the hearth. This was going to be a long wait.

Would the duke be able to sneak her out once everyone retired to bed?

That would not happen until the wee hours.

The Upper Crust were known to party until dawn.

But the maids and valets these guests had brought along would start to rise by then, would they not?

There might never be a moment she could leave unseen.

What if she never made her escape?

No, this situation could not remain as it was.

But what if her uncle came around asking questions once the snow melted sufficiently to travel about?

Jane crept back in through the hidden door an hour later.

“Miss Temple, the duke insisted we feed you.” She carried a basket and drew aside the cloth covering to reveal some bread, cheese, and fruit. Also in the basket was a bottle of lemonade. “It is the best we could do without attracting attention.”

“It is perfect, Jane. Leave it here and I’ll manage. Oh, but open up the bottle for me, would you?”

Jane nodded and immediately did as asked.

“And I’ve been giving my escape some thought,” Ailis said. “I could pretend to be one of the maids on staff. I would only have to leave my arm out of the sling long enough to walk down the servants’ stairs.”

“Won’t it hurt you?”

Ailis nodded. “Only for a little while. Next time you come up, bring me an apron and a mobcap. Make it large so I can tuck it low and hide as much of my face as possible.”

Not that any of these elites would ever bother to look at a household maid, but why take the risk?

“I’ll suggest it to Mrs. Fitch and she will find a moment to mention it to His Grace. It isn’t a bad plan, Miss Temple. I think it could work,” Jane said, and disappeared through the hidden door again.

After spending another hour sitting and waiting, Ailis was more convinced than ever that something had to be done.

What was to stop her from sneaking down the back stairs right now?

Wouldn’t the maids and valets have tended to their duties by now?

And she could carry a pillow on the pretense of needing it to be replaced.

A big, fluffy one would help cover her face.

“No, that won’t work.” She needed to walk out with her cloak, gloves, reticule…unless Jane carried those down to the kitchen first.

But Ailis had five hundred pounds of bank notes in her reticule. She could not leave it unguarded… Well, she could stuff them in her bodice.

Yes, she had her escape plan firmed up now. A mobcap to hide her hair and face. Carrying a pillow or linens. Mrs. Fitch could send a crew of maids in here to tidy the duke’s room. Did it not need to be tidied anyway? And who was going to keep count of how many maids bustled in or out?

Feeling quite smug about her plan, Ailis tossed a few logs onto the fire, ignoring the twinges that shot through her body even though the logs were small and she only lifted them one at a time using her good arm.

With the fire now blazing to her satisfaction, she settled again in one of the big chairs by the hearth to await Jane’s return… anyone’s return.

The time stretched interminably.

Where was Jane? What was taking her so long?

Ailis jumped to her feet in relief when she heard the bedroom door click open. “Jane, thank goodness! I was beginning to despair you—”

Her heart stopped beating. Simply stopped, for the dowager duchess stood in the doorway with Jane trembling behind her.

“I knew my sons were hiding something from me,” the formidable woman intoned. “Leave us, Jane.”

The girl was in tears. “I’m so sorry, Miss Temple.” She bobbed a curtsy and dashed away.

Ailis’s heart had yet to resume beating as she gaped at the duke’s imposing mother, who now closed the door and turned toward her. She was not a tall woman, more or less Ailis’s height. She had dark brown eyes like her son, and her hair had obviously once been dark but was now mostly gray.

However, this was no meek old woman.

Ailis curtsied and waited for the dowager’s insults to come spilling out of her mouth.

But the proud woman said nothing and merely approached Ailis, touching her injured shoulder with surprising gentleness. Even that slight pressure was painful, and Ailis winced. “What happened to you, my dear?”

Ailis was amazed by the softness in her tone. “I fell off my horse several days ago while riding home as the blizzard began, and dislocated my shoulder.”

This really was not much of an answer, because it was obvious that falling off one’s horse outdoors in no way explained how she ended up in the duke’s bedchamber.

“And?” the dowager prompted her, motioning to the two chairs by the fireplace where Ailis had been seated only moments ago. “Sit,” she commanded. “Tell me all of it.”

After taking her seat, Ailis properly introduced herself.

“I am the vicar’s niece and actively assist him in all church functions.

I came to collect donations for the charity Christmas ball from your son.

You see, we desperately need these donations to help the destitute families in the parish, especially now that the war has ended and so much of the population is unable to find work. ”

The dowager nodded. “It is just as bad in London, perhaps worse because so many of those poor souls are preyed upon by villains and criminals. Some of my friends and I are working with the Home Office to establish houses for our injured soldiers, as well as those for destitute mothers and orphans.”

“How lovely of you, Your Grace,” Ailis said with sincere admiration.

“I worry the same for our villagers. This is why this year’s Christmas ball is so important to me.

It is a daylong affair with games for the children, and food and dancing for all.

I tried several times to explain this to your son, but he gave me such a hard time and…

” She cleared her throat, realizing she should not be criticizing the duke.

“But rest assured, he is a very kind and generous man.”

The dowager laughed. “My son? Kind?”

Ailis could not help but smile. “Well, he can be difficult. Quite irritating, at times. But he does have a strong sense of duty. It just took me longer than I would have liked to convince him to pay up. Which he has done. Generously, too. But in the time wasted on…I mean, in the time spent discussing the matter on my last visit, I delayed too long and got caught in the midst of the snowstorm.”