Page 39

“I can’t wear that,” Kynthea gasped as the maid set a gown out before her.

She’d known that she was going to be presented at court beside Zoe. She’d known that there was a dress being prepared for her, but she’d never seen it before this moment, mere hours before they were due to leave for the palace.

“Of course, you must wear it!” Zoe exclaimed. She’d wanted to see the unveiling of the gown as well. “It’s stunning! You’ll look like a goddess.”

She’d look better than Zoe. She’d look richer than Zoe. Damnation, she’d look as if she were the one being presented instead of her cousin.

The gown was designed with the family colors of blue and white, as was appropriate. Indeed, Zoe’s gown was resplendent with those hues as well. She would look like an ice princess, especially with the family pearls that would adorn her ears and neck.

Kynthea’s gown was dark blue in a rich velvet.

That choice was bold, given that Zoe’s gown was made of silk.

Kynthea felt that it emphasized the difference in their ages, making Zoe look more like a doll and Kynthea as the stately woman.

Even worse, the accents on Kynthea’s gown were red and gold, both of which were the duke’s colors.

To her mind, anyone with eyes would know that she was claiming an association with the duke, which she absolutely could not do.

Only the most outrageous mistresses would do such a thing, and Kynthea wasn’t outrageous.

Even if she were, she wouldn’t do it at Zoe’s presentation!

“It’s wrong,” she said as she looked at Zoe. “This is your day.”

“It’s our day,” Zoe said as she came forward to kiss Kynthea’s cheek. “You’re being presented as well.”

“Only as your cousin—”

“As yourself.” She smiled in a tender way that was wholly new to the girl. As if she had somehow grown up in the last few weeks without anyone the wiser. “This is as it should be,” she said firmly.

Kynthea grabbed her cousin’s arm and held her in place when the girl would have left. She stood there a moment, looking her over. And though she’d vowed not to ask, she couldn’t stop herself. “What arrangement have you made with the duke? Please, you must tell me.”

Zoe’s brows rose in challenge. “Like you told me about your arrangement with him?”

Now there was the sixteen-year-old she remembered. One who had an edge when she felt left out. “You already knew,” she said softly. “Besides, he swore me not to tell.”

Then Zoe displayed her new maturity by softening instead of growing more jealous. “He swore me not to tell as well. And the consequences if I betray him are severe.”

“Severe! How—”

Zoe held up her hand to quiet her. “The duke was persuasive, and I am happy. Even Papa agrees! Can’t you trust me that everything’s going to be perfect?”

She had no choice but to trust. Zoe was brimming with happiness.

Even better, she’d spent hours writing letters to her father about something.

Kynthea had seen the missives as they went out.

Fat letters about horses, no doubt, with equally large things coming back.

And once the earl had returned to London for tonight’s presentation, he and Zoe had holed up in this library for more than an hour.

It was all so mysterious, and Kynthea was not used to being ignorant about what was happening with her normally talkative cousin.

“I wish I understood what you’ve done,” she said, hating the plaintive note in her voice.

Zoe dropped a quick kiss on her cheek. “Put on the dress, get your hair set, and then we shall have the most glorious evening.”

That wasn’t an answer, but it was all the information she was going to get.

Zoe had to dress as well, and so Kynthea surrendered to the inevitable.

She wore the gown as if she were a princess.

She rode in the carriage to the palace. And she prayed, prayed, prayed that she didn’t make a fool of herself in front of the Regent.

Because never, even in her imagination, did she think she would be presented to royalty.

And yet here she was, all thanks to the duke.

He joined them soon after they arrived. She knew what all his regalia meant.

She’d helped Zoe memorize it before the Season began.

But she’d never seen it on him in such a resplendent way.

He was so handsome that he took her breath away.

He also looked at her as if she was the goddess Zoe had talked about.

She wasn’t, but as he brought her gloved hand to his lips, his eyes seemed to burn into hers.

“You look exquisite,” he said.

“I was about to say the same to you,” she said.

He greeted Zoe and her parents. Then his mother joined their party. She looked as regal as a duchess ought. Her gaze cut critically over her and Zoe, but her words were neutral enough. Something about holding their heads up and to make sure to smile.

That was really all Kynthea could process.

She was about to meet the prince! They were at the royal palace!

And right when she was about to lose her nerve, she realized something shocking.

She was too intimidated by the grandeur of the entire place to be cowed by any one thing.

It was as if the whole event numbed her enough that she could relax.

She was fine so long as she stood up straight, smiled when spoken to, and kept the duke near enough to strengthen her when she felt her spirit waver.

So long as he stood right beside her. Which, thankfully, he did.

Zoe was nearly jumping with excitement. There were several other girls being presented at the same time and they clustered together to whisper and giggle like the teenagers they were.

The duchess frowned at them, but Kynthea couldn’t help but smile.

Why stifle natural enthusiasm in the name of propriety?

They were teenagers. Let them enjoy being such.

“You seem unusually composed for a woman in the royal palace for the first time,” the duchess said to her. “One about to be presented to the Prince Regent.”

“I am extraordinarily lucky to be here at all,” she returned.

“I suppose I am trying to drink it all in. I know I shall spend many evenings reliving tonight.” She took a slow circle, seeing the people in their finery, the opulence of the palace, even the royal servants where they stood in uniforms finer than most of her clothing.

But as usual, her gaze inevitably landed back on the duke.

She tried to memorize how he looked standing nearby, speaking with Zoe’s father.

She liked the way a few locks of his hair always escaped placement to land dashingly across his forehead.

She saw how others responded to him with respect or hunger.

And she knew deep inside that he had held her tight and whispered how much he adored her.

She’d seen admiration in his eyes, and that steadied her now.

She was worthy of a duke’s esteem and that made her believe she was worthy of standing here among the peerage of England.

At least for now. Once her true status as his mistress came out, she wouldn’t be allowed in here.

Neither would his mother deign to speak to her.

But for now, she had this glorious evening of respectability, and she was going to savor every moment.

“Hopefully,” the duchess said not-so-tartly, “you will have more glorious things to remember than tonight.”

“I don’t think so,” she returned. Certainly, she had a lovely future ahead as the duke’s mistress.

But eventually he would marry someone else.

Eventually he would tire of her. When that happened, she hoped that she would have enough money stored up to live quietly with her brother.

Perhaps near enough to Zoe to know her cousin’s children.

“That’s because you are young yet,” the lady said. “In truth, you have no idea what is to happen to you.”

Well, that was enigmatic. But there was no time to question it as a royal footman lined them up for their presentation to the prince. The girls were placed in some kind of order, but Kynthea could not make sense of the reason for it. It should be by order of precedence, but that wasn’t quite right.

“Are you noticing that the girls aren’t in proper order?” The duchess’ voice cut through her thoughts.

“Yes. It should be—”

“Royal whim. Some families are in favor, some are out. Not out enough to be blocked, but enough to be set back in the line.”

That didn’t bode well for Zoe. She was the very last with her family, Kynthea, and the duke standing behind her. “But what could have happened to put Zoe last?” she whispered. “And is that good or bad? Do the favored ones come last or—”

The duke’s voice interrupted. “It was by special request,” he said into her ear. “I’ll explain later.”

He took her hand, and his mother slipped behind them. That wasn’t right. He should escort his mother.

“I don’t understand,” she whispered.

“I swear I’ll explain. But I can’t right now.”

That had been his constant refrain for the last two weeks.

“You know, even a mistress gets impatient sometimes.”

Far from being upset, he grinned down at her.

She thought for a moment that he would say something.

There was clearly a lot on his mind. But rather than speak, he seemed to get lost in staring at her.

Or maybe it was she who lost herself in him.

Either way, by the time she got her wits back, Zoe was next in line to be presented.

The girl stood proudly on her father’s arm. Her mother remained a step back. As the cousin without a title, Kynthea was behind her aunt. And she was shocked that the duke remained on her arm, but he would not dislodge. Which meant the Dowager Duchess took up the rear of their little party.