Page 19 of The Duke’s Indecent Scandal (Indecent Dukes #1)

Chapter Eighteen

T iffany

Part of her wondered if Gregory might whisk her away to some private room to continue their activities from when he’d caught her off guard in her music room, but instead, he took her to the back of the house where light spilled out of a doorway, the sound of children’s laughter traveling down the hall to where they approached. She glanced at him in curiosity.

“My half-sisters,” he explained as they drew closer. “I wanted you to meet them before the wedding, and I do not know if there will be another chance, but… I was unsure if your mother would approve. And Sebastian can be a bit intimidating.”

“Half-sisters… Oh… oh !” Of course. His half-sisters, born to his father’s mistress. Mistresses?

Gentlemen of their rank were still expected to take care of any progeny they might produce outside of their marriage, but upon his father’s death, Gregory would have inherited that duty along with his title. Though, not everyone took that duty seriously.

She was well aware of Gregory watching her, waiting for her reaction, and she smiled at him.

“I am delighted to be introduced to them,” she said. After all, their birth was not their fault, and they sounded like bright, happy children. Tiffany loved children. Visiting the nearby village to the manor, she often took the opportunity to play with them when her mother was not with her.

Gregory relaxed, smiling back at her. “They will be delighted to meet you.”

A statement that held true a few minutes later when Gregory brought her into the room. It was a large room filled with all sorts of things that might entertain young children, four little girls, four young women, and three men who were seated on the other side of the room. Tiffany blinked in surprise when she saw how young Gregory’s half-sisters were.

Not only were they young, but their mothers were, too. The former duke had certainly not let his own age deter him from pursuing young women not much older than Tiffany. There was an air of tension that filled the room the moment she and Gregory appeared, though the children seemed unaffected. All of them turned to see Gregory, and their expressions lit up with happiness at seeing him.

The men got to their feet, going to stand with a young woman as she and Gregory walked in. The only young woman without a man beside her hung back, her head ducked down.

The duke had apparently preferred young women of the lower classes. Tiffany’s gut clenched. She had spoken with their maids enough to know that working for nobility was not always a safe occupation for a woman. Sebastian did not harass the maids, and neither had Tiffany’s father, but that was not always true.

And the maids often did not feel as though they could deny their employers advances.

Not just pursue… but had Gregory’s father taken advantage of these young women?

That could be a reason for murder , a little voice whispered in her head, and she made a mental note to tell Astrid the next time she had the opportunity.

“These are my half-sisters,” Gregory said, grinning as the youngest of them toddled over to him, lifting her arms up to be picked up. Dressed in a gown of pale yellow, she had a head of golden curls and big brown eyes that were currently full of demand. “This little imp is Priscilla.”

“Gweg. Pwetty.” She reached for his sapphire cravat pin.

“Uh-uh,” he replied gently, putting his hand between her chubby fingers and the pin. “I have to look nice for dinner, Priss.”

She huffed, making Tiffany giggle at her adorable scowl. Clearly, she did not enjoy being denied.

“Here, Priscilla, you should not bother the duke,” one of the young women whispered, stepping forward to take the tot from Gregory’s arms. He gave her over willingly.

“This is Betty, Priscilla’s mother,” he said, his voice gentling. Betty ducked her head. Tiffany could not have said what her eye color was because she never lifted her face high enough for Tiffany to be able to see, keeping her gaze cast downward, her own blonde hair falling forward to cover her face even more. She was afraid, Tiffany realized. A fact that obviously bothered Gregory, but he did not know what to do about it.

“It is a pleasure to meet you both,” Tiffany said gently. She did not want to unnerve the poor woman any more than she already was.

Another little girl was already coming up to them, also lifting up her hands to be picked up. Another young woman came forward, clearly the mother, with the gentleman at her side. A big, burly fellow, he was the tallest in the room, and though he smiled, he also watched Gregory very closely.

Her fiancé did not seem at all perturbed by the man’s scrutiny. Either he was used to it, he did not care, or some combination therein.

“Hello, Loretta,” he said seriously to the very serious-looking child. She was not much older than Priscilla, by Tiffany’s estimation, nor was she sunny or importuning. She studied Gregory closely before leaning forward to give him a tiny kiss on the cheek that just about melted Tiffany’s heart.

“Hewwo, Gweg.”

The combination of the inability to pronounce the ‘r’ in his name or the ‘l’ in ‘hello’ was going to be Tiffany’s undoing. The way he clearly knew his sisters, adjusting his approach to both their personalities and their mothers’ comfort, showed how much he cared.

He was going to be an amazing father.

Tiffany was introduced to Loretta and her mother, Rose, and her stepfather, John. The older two were Clara and Elizabeth, both adorable brunettes, a couple years older than Loretta and Priscilla.

Clara’s mother was introduced as Agatha; her stepfather was Peter. Elizabeth’s mother was Maggie, and her stepfather was Andrew.

John was the gruffest of the three men, though he saved his suspicion and wariness for Gregory. Tiffany was greeted with a respectful bow.

Wondering if one of them could have been involved in her father’s murder did put the damper on meeting them, but the little girls more than made up for it.

“Unfortunately, we do not have much time,” Gregory said after the introductions. “But I wanted you all to meet Tiffany now, and I am sure we will find more time to spend together after the wedding.” Tiffany felt a tug on her skirt and looked down to see that Priscilla had escaped her mother’s arms and was now at Tiffany’s side, lifting her arms to be picked up. She looked at Betty, and the young woman finally met her gaze with the same big brown eyes that her daughter had, though hers were fearful while Priscilla’s were fearless.

Tiffany nodded her head down at Priscilla, and Betty nodded before ducking her head again. Smiling, heart heavy for the young mother, Tiffany bent down to pick up the little girl. She was a soft, warm weight in Tiffany’s arms, her sunny smile widening as she was lifted up the way she wanted to be.

Putting one hand on either side of Tiffany’s face, she looked intently into Tiffany’s eyes.

“Pwetty,” she said definitively.

“Yes, she is very pretty, is she not?” Gregory said, turning and grinning at his little sister.

Heaven help her, she was starting to believe it, though she did not know how to handle such a change in her life.

“Thank you,” she said faintly. Priscilla giggled.

“Down.” The tot made the demand with as much self-assurance as the queen. Tiffany was starting to wonder if perhaps she could learn a thing or two from Priscilla. She put the girl down, and she toddled off.

Straightening back up, Tiffany smiled around the room. Betty looked up long enough for their gazes to meet again before she ducked her head again. Everyone smiled back at her, even John.

“I am so glad I was able to meet all of you this evening.” She was able to make that statement with absolute sincerity. In part because she felt like Gregory had shown that he truly trusted her and in part because she had enjoyed meeting them for themselves.

The girls were adorable. The ladies held themselves back, unsure of their position and how she might react to them, but they were now smiling with more assurance as well. Well, everyone but poor Betty. Tiffany was going to make it a special project to try to help the poor young woman get past the fear that was obviously burdening her. The gentlemen all bowed, and the ladies and the two older girls curtsied.

Gregory made an exasperated noise.

“How many times must I order you not to do that?”

“At least once more, Your Grace,” Agatha said, with more than a hint of sass in her voice.

He shook his head but was grinning as he led Tiffany out of the room.

“Thank you for introducing them to me,” she said as they walked back down the hall.

“Thank you for treating them as family,” he replied.

She was glad to have met them and happy to treat them as family because they were, but she did have to wonder… would the son take after the father? One day, would her own son be introducing his bride to a collection of half-sisters?

The thought made her stomach hurt. She could not imagine how Gregory’s mother must have felt… and she did not like to think that might one day be her fate.

Gregory

If he’d had any qualms about marrying Tiffany, tonight would have eradicated them. She’d been wonderful with his sisters and their parents. Betty had even looked up at her, and John had relaxed with her even faster than he had with Gregory’s mother.

In some ways, introducing her to them tonight had been a kind of test. From his reading of her character, he’d thought it likely she would not turn up her nose at them like some of their set might, but now he knew for certain. Not only that, but he’d seen how quickly and easily she’d dealt with the surprise. Which was not a necessary attribute for a duchess to have, but things did arise unexpectedly.

Surprising her had also given him the true measure of her reaction, which had been nothing but welcoming and sweet. When she’d picked Priscilla up, for a shining moment, he’d seen a vision of her holding her own child in her arms… his child. Not something he would have ever thought he’d be eager to see, but that had all changed since becoming engaged to Tiffany.

When they returned to the others, it was clear to him that his mother was relieved to no longer be entertaining Sebastian and the Duchess of Bolton on her own. They decamped to the dining room immediately. As they were informal, Gregory kept Tiffany on his arm while Sebastian escorted the mothers.

“What did Gregory want to show you?” Sebastian asked Tiffany as they sat down. Gregory helped her into her seat as Sebastian did the Duchess of Bolton, then Gregory turned to assist his own mother.

“Some family matters,” she replied serenely. “Did we miss anything important for the wedding planning?” Neatly answering the question, then turning the topic of conversation.

It made Sebastian scowl and Gregory grin. His mother brightened and immediately began recounting everything they had discussed, cutting off Sebastian’s line of questioning completely.

Tiffany did not seem to have any objection to the plans the mothers were making—they had everything well handled from what Gregory knew. Though, admittedly, he had never been in charge of planning any large event, so he did not know much.

“You still need your dress, and Gregory has not mentioned where you will be honeymooning…” His mother turned to look at him over the fish course.

“We will be postponing the honeymoon ‘til the end of the Season,” Gregory said hastily. “I would not want to part Tiffany from Sebastian when he is in dire need of assistance.”

“Assistance with what?” The Duchess of Bolton sat up straight.

“With finding a bride, of course.” He smiled to take any sting out of his words since he had noticed how prickly the duchess could be. The truth was, he would have been happy to whisk Tiffany away, and Sebastian’s needs be damned, but there was still the mystery of their fathers to solve. Abandoning his fellow dukes in the middle of such a mess, when his father was one of the only two who had received any threatening letters, would not do. “As a new duchess and so recently a debutante herself, they will reveal themselves to her in ways that they would not to a gentleman nor to ladies who are not of their generation.”

The duchess sniffed, pressing her lips together. Gregory had the impression that she wanted to object but could not find a flaw in his logic since it was completely true. Tiffany was in the best position to help Sebastian.

His friend glanced at him from across the table, a silent message passing between them. Sebastian knew what he was on about.

“I appreciate you making the sacrifice,” Sebastian said dryly.

“Oh, not to worry, old chap, we will still be off at the end of the Season. I was thinking France or Germany. Depending on what my lovely bride prefers.”

“Either sounds wonderful,” she replied, brightening.

“Tiffany will be happy to go wherever her husband desires, like a good duchess,” Tiffany’s mother said, giving her daughter a pointed look, even though Tiffany had already said as much.

His own mother stiffened, dropping her gaze down to her plate. Gregory’s father had desired her to be in the country and stay there. He moved her around like a pawn on a chessboard. Gregory knew that was not what the Duchess of Bolton meant, but his chest tightened in reaction, the old anger flaring up again. It did not help that there was something in the duchess’ voice that reminded him of the way his father had spoken to his mother when admonishing her in front of company.

“Her husband would like to hear her preferences as well,” he said rather sharply. The duchess widened her eyes, immediately making him feel guilty. He had not meant to snap at her. “My apologies, Your Grace. I do not like to think of myself as a tyrant in our marriage.”

“My apologies as well, Your Grace,” she replied just as formally, appearing chagrined. “I certainly did not mean any insult toward you.”

“I truly am happy with either location,” Tiffany said earnestly, turning to him and putting her fingers on the back of his hand to draw his attention to her. “I have always wanted to travel.”

“Then perhaps we shall do both.”

The awkward moment passed, along with the rest of the dinner, with far more lively conversation. Tiffany invited his mother to come to the modiste for her wedding gown, which made his mother so happy, he was almost surprised she did not jump up and hug Tiffany right then and there. Although his bride-to-be was rather shy with his mother, more so than she was with him, she was making the effort, and he knew his mother would reward that heftily.

As their dinner finished, there was a knock on the dining room door, and Montblanc let himself in, a folio in his hands and an apologetic expression on his face. The steward looked almost pained as he entered the room. He glanced around, paling when he saw the caliber of guests seated at the table he had dared intrude upon.

“I apologize for the interruption, Your Grace, but I need to speak with you immediately. I will be on my way immediately after.”

“Oh no, Montblanc, we are going to listen to Lady Tiffany play the harp after dinner. I know how you enjoy harp music. You must join us,” Gregory’s mother said, interjecting.

Montblanc blinked rapidly. “I, ah…”

“Yes, you can round out our numbers,” Gregory said as he got to his feet. “Unless what you are bringing me means that you must rush off?”

“Well… no.” Montblanc appeared flummoxed. “But… Your Grace… I am hardly…”

He was hardly of a rank to join two dukes, two duchesses, and one soon-to-be duchess in musical entertainment, but Gregory saw no harm in it since they were being informal this evening. Indeed, it would mean that Montblanc could escort Gregory’s mother rather than leave Sebastian with double duty. And Montblanc and his mother always got along well.

Obviously, he would not have Montblanc escort the Duchess of Bolton—she was far too much of a high stickler to take that as anything but an insult.

“You can escort my mother, so I can tend properly to my fiancé,” he said with a smile.

Montblanc rallied, straightening.

“Thank you, Your Grace, any way that I can be of assistance.”

They stepped outside so Montblanc could show Gregory some of the discrepancies he’d found in a bill that needed to be settled on the morrow, which explained his desire for haste. Montblanc abhorred being late with anything.

Then, they returned to the others and escorted them to the music room. His mother was happy to have Montblanc’s arm, Gregory was able to focus on Tiffany and her glorious music, and if Tiffany’s mother was a bit stiff about having a mere steward join their part, well, that was Sebastian’s problem.