Page 13 of The Duke’s Indecent Scandal (Indecent Dukes #1)

Chapter Twelve

G regory

Trying to speak with Tiffany while Lady Louisa was beside her was an exercise in frustration. Tiffany was quiet, while Lady Louisa was exuberant, loud, and flirtatious. Considering he was now affianced to the woman sitting beside her and she was in the wedding party, he found her demeanor particularly grating.

Not that he could show such a thing, of course. It would be bad manners, and, on top of that, it could make things harder for Tiffany.

The best he could do was wait for the conversation to die down, then ask Tiffany to accompany him on a turnabout the room.

“Oh, ah, yes,” she said, stumbling over her words and blushing as she got to her feet. While it was not the most graceful acceptance, several of the ladies watching did sigh, then start to whisper to each other.

The fact that he was pointedly leaving Lady Louisa off his invitation, as well as Tiffany’s hot blush, would seem confirmation that he was in love with his bride. Gregory grinned, pulling her hand over his arm, then putting his own hand atop her fingers to keep it there, as though he could not bear to be parted from her.

Truth be told, she was the only person in the room he wanted to talk to other than his fellow dukes.

He leaned in.

“It appears as though you are the Season’s sensation,” he murmured, chuckling when she snorted, then lifted her hand to cover her mouth and nose, pretending to cough to cover the noise as she realized how indelicate she’d sounded.

“So it appears.” She sighed and looked around at the crowd of people gathered in the drawing room. Some of them were watching the two of them walk; most were now involved in their own conversations. Sebastian glanced at them, narrowing his eyes in warning, though Tiffany did not seem to notice. “Mother seems happy, at least.”

“You are not?”

“I am… content.” It took her a moment to find the word. Gregory’s stomach stirred uneasily.

“Is there anything I can do to make you happier? Do you have a friend you would prefer stand up beside you in the wedding?” He was making a guess based on what he’d observed between her and Lady Louisa, but he hoped that her lack of happiness did not come from knowing she had to marry him.

He was a catch, after all. And he was looking forward to marrying her. It would be rather lowering to find she did not return his regard in the least.

“I do not have another friend who could,” she admitted, shrugging. Whether she was truly indifferent to her lack of friends or pretending indifference, he could not tell. “And it makes Mother happy.”

“What would make Tiffany happy?” he asked gently, still guiding her on their promenade. Their constant movement made it easier for them to speak frankly since they were not standing in one place for too long, so no one could overhear more than a few words of what they were saying.

“I…” Once again, she seemed at a loss for words. She looked around the drawing room. “More time in the country?”

It sounded more a question than a statement, as if she was unsure. As if she did not know what made her happy. Well. His first duty as a husband would be to help her find things that made her happy. And he would enlist her brother for support. Surely, Sebastian would have some ideas.

“I certainly enjoy being in the country,” he said, smiling down at her. “Though, of course, we will have to be in London for the Season. This will likely be the most frenzied drawing room you will have to oversee… at least until our daughter is of age to debut.” He winked at her, enjoying the way she blushed again, this time the mottled pink heating her entire face, down her neck, and into the top of her dress.

He would very much like to see exactly how far down that blush went.

Soon. I can explore that mystery on our wedding night.

Which he was very much looking forward to.

“What do you enjoy doing in the country?” he asked.

“Rising earlier and spending the morning doing absolutely nothing,” she said immediately. “Mother always sleeps late, even in the country, so I am able to do whatever I please.”

“And what do you please?”

“Oh… whatever strikes my fancy on the day. Reading. Painting. Music. Riding.” She seemed almost as though she was about to say more, but she cut herself off short, which intrigued him.

Perhaps whatever she was going to say was unladylike. Did she ride astride? Or sometimes race? She’d been very interested in his matched set earlier today. Perhaps she did some driving?

They did not know each other well enough, so he did not pursue the question for the moment. There would be time enough to delve into her small secrets.

“That does not sound like ‘nothing,’” he teased. She smiled up at him, the hint of mischief in her eyes making his chest do a flip.

“I suppose not, but it does not feel like very much either.” She shrugged, but again, Gregory got the distinct feeling she was hiding something from him. He was looking forward to finding out what it was.

In the meantime, they’d circled the room twice and needed to return to socializing with her guests. However, he did not take her back to the couch where Lady Louisa was still sitting, now speaking with several other young ladies who had come to take Tiffany’s place. Instead, he moved her over to the group of young ladies who were speaking with Sebastian and Nathanial.

As he’d expected, the ladies latched onto Tiffany’s presence as a way to gather more information about her brother, including her in their conversation. Slowly, she relaxed as both he and she focused on Sebastian, who seemed torn between pleasure that Tiffany was included in the conversation and annoyance at Gregory for the stories being told.

An hour later, when the other dukes were ready to depart, Gregory went with them, well pleased with himself. Tiffany might not be able to replace Lady Louisa, but at least he’d put her in the way of more pleasant company, which meant he could retreat from the field with a clear conscience.

Tiffany

Watching Gregory, Sebastian, and the other dukes leave the room, Tiffany sighed. She was not the only one. The drawing room was suddenly quite gusty with feminine sighs.

Although she knew plenty of their guests had come to see if the rumors about her and the Duke of Clarence were true, just as many were there to sight a duke… and be sighted by one. Three out of the four who had been present were still in the market for wives, after all.

She knew that was why most of the young ladies were willing to talk to her, which was proven by how quickly they all disappeared from her side as soon as the dukes left. Even though she’d expected it, the proof still hurt. Especially when Lady Louisa sent her a triumphant look from across the room as many of them moved to join her coterie instead.

Why Louisa always felt the need to compete with Tiffany, Tiffany had no idea. Louisa was always the winner under such circumstances. Tiffany’s mother had often bemoaned how she wished Tiffany was more like Louisa—effortlessly beautiful, an expert conversationalist, popular…

But that was not Tiffany’s lot in life.

Sitting in the window seat, Tiffany stared out at the street as if she did not mind being abandoned by everyone and needed a moment to rest and collect herself. Another carriage pulled up as she watched, a young woman and her mother exiting. Tiffany recognized her immediately, of course, as would any young lady of the ton.

Lady Astrid Blackstone, the betrothed of the Duke of Ormonde. Though she was the daughter of a Marquess in her own right, it was the assurance of her future as a duchess that gave her so much stature among the debutantes. She was an eccentric and an Original, which was immediately apparent upon viewing her as she was wearing an unfashionably colored dress of burnt orange trimmed with coppery brown. It was a far brighter and deeper color than any other debutante wore, though it looked wonderful with her creamy skin and the red hair peeking out from beneath her matching bonnet.

“Oh my goodness, is that Lady Astrid?” A young lady at the other window facing the front street said loudly, causing an immediate stampede to the windows. The older ladies stayed where they were, of course, but Tiffany suddenly found herself surrounded by the other debutantes once again.

And, once again, they were oblivious to her presence.

She supposed it was not merely Lady Astrid’s betrothal to a duke that made her so sought after and admired. It was the confident way she held herself. The manner in which she turned up her nose at fashions, forging her own way instead. She was everything a duchess should be—like Lady Louisa.

Tiffany, on the other hand, was plain, awkward, and far better at managing a household than managing Society.

No wonder no one wanted to be her friend.

She stared down at the street, watching as Lady Astrid and her mother approached the house, ignoring the whispers flying above her head.

“Ladies, please, remember yourselves,” Tiffany’s mother said sharply, sending everyone back to their previous places, many of them giggling. “Tiffany, do not gawk at Lady Astrid. For goodness sake, show some decorum.”

Tears sparked in Tiffany’s eyes as she turned away from the window, biting her lip against protesting the unfairness of it all. She had already been at the window when Lady Astrid arrived; she had not rushed to it. She had not even been the one to announce the lady’s arrival. Dropping her gaze down to her hands in her lap, she took in a deep breath, determined not to show her upset.

She did not need more gossip about her, especially when everyone was supposed to be focused on her and Gregory’s ‘love match’.

Thankfully, no one was going to notice her when Lady Blackstone and Lady Astrid entered the room.

Immediately, Tiffany’s mother stood to greet the two—and several of the bolder debutantes stepped forward to draw Lady Astrid into their company, including Lady Louisa. Drawing in another deep breath, Tiffany turned toward the window again, watching the carriages and horses go by on the street, focusing on them to help regain her equilibrium.

“Tiffany, do you have your head in the clouds again?” Louisa’s snide amusement punctured Tiffany’s attempt at quiet, and she turned to look at the other woman. Seeing Lady Astrid beside her, watching the two of them with an inscrutable expression on her beautiful face, Tiffany immediately jumped to her feet.

It was intimidating, to say the least, to be facing off with two such widely acknowledged beauties, knowing she did not hold a candle to either of them alone. Put them together, and she might as well have been a potted plant. One that was wilting.

“Lady Astrid. I… um… welcome.” As expected, she stumbled over her words and blushed hotly as the other ladies around them tittered.

Louisa rolled her eyes, and Tiffany hunched her shoulders inward, wishing she could disappear. Bad enough to appear at such a disadvantage with Louisa watching, but Lady Astrid…

“Thank you. You have a lovely home,” Lady Astrid replied, as if Tiffany’s response had been perfectly acceptable. Her green eyes were full of… sympathy? Kind. She looked kind. Which Tiffany had not been expecting at all. “I would love a tour of your conservatory.”

“You would? I mean, of course, I would be happy to give you one.” Good lord, she was acting a twit. If she could sink into the floor, she would. She had expected Lady Astrid to be polite and move on, at best.

“We can all go,” Lady Louisa interjected, her gaze suddenly much more sharp and less smug. “I spend a great deal of time here, after all.”

“No, Lady Tiffany and I will go alone,” Lady Astrid said, smiling as she stepped to Tiffany’s side and slid her arm through Tiffany’s, joining them together. Tiffany locked her jaw against dropping, which it felt like it was going to do at any moment. Lady Astrid wanted to walk with her alone? It was an unheard-of show of her favor. “We are both future duchesses, after all, and we must get to get to know each other.”

Lady Louisa’s expression was such that Tiffany almost felt sorry for her, despite the way Louisa had treated Tiffany in the past. The rejection was kindly toned, but it was a definitive setdown, the likes of which Louisa had likely never experienced before.

“Yes, of course,” Louisa said faintly. “I just…”

Whatever she was about to say trailed off as Lady Astrid ignored her and began to walk forward. With her arm interlocked with Tiffany’s, Tiffany moved as well. She was aware of her mother’s head coming up, looking at the two of them with a frown, but then something the Duchess of Clarence said drew her back into the conversation with the other mothers.

Tiffany’s heart soared as she and Lady Astrid walked out of the drawing room together, the envy of every other young lady in there. It was one thing to draw a duke, especially when there were so many currently available—each young lady could imagine herself also being in Tiffany’s position—but to have Lady Astrid’s undivided and interested attention?

That was a coup she could have never expected. Even if Lady Astrid turned into a total harridan once they were alone, she would remember this brief and shining moment forever.