Page 29 of Unraveled by the Duke (Scandalous Duchesses #1)

“ Y our Grace, welcome to Banfield House. What a pleasant surprise.”

Alexander inclined his head in greeting to Cornelius Frid. Celia held his arm, and Aurelia hovered behind.

Cornelius turned a heavy-browed face to his eldest daughter. “I suppose I should call you, Your Grace, also,” he said.

“Only if you want me to call you Lord Scovell, or simply Scovell? I would rather call you Father,” Celia replied.

“Celia, it is then. And where is my other daughter?” Cornelius asked as she stepped aside.

“She is here, and I will not have a word said to her in a cross tone, Cornelius.” Edna Frid hurried forward to embrace Aurelia. “She has been through quite enough already.”

“I’m sorry, Mama. I’m sorry, Papa,” Aurelia mumbled brokenly.

Cornelius harrumphed as Edna ushered her into the house.

They stood outside the front door, where Cornelius had received them. Now, he fixed the couple with a withering glare.

“I do not know who is to blame for this latest disgrace. All I know for certain is that one daughter embroiled herself in not one but two scandals, and now a second follows. Am I to conclude, Celia, that your example had nothing to do with your sister’s poor judgment?”

“Aurelia is an adult, Scovell,” Alexander pointed out, putting his hand on Celia’s where it rested on his arm. “The first we saw of her was at Almack’s Assembly Rooms, by which time she had already made the unfortunate association that caused this trouble. Do not blame my wife.”

Cornelius reddened and harrumphed again, continuing to glare at Celia. “Of course, Your Grace… Your Graces, I merely state that the two followed one after the other. May I ask to what we owe the pleasure of this visit?”

Celia felt hurt by her father’s decision to be so formal after the warmth he had shown her at the wedding. Something in his mind had clearly changed. He was showing her that she was now a member of the Cheverton household, not Scovell.

Perhaps that was always the way of marriage, but this was an unusual marriage.

“I do not care for your tone, Lord Scovell. Nor do I wish to discuss our business on the drive. Perhaps we could go inside?” Alexander pressed.

Cornelius stepped aside, waving an arm like an army officer, snapping his heels together as he did so. It was a gesture of subordination, and that too felt like a stab to the heart.

I must bear these slings and arrows as the price for my actions. What is important is Aurelia. She can see the picture if it is here, and that will convince her that Lavinia is not the friend she believes her to be.

They entered the house ahead of her father.

Alexander bent his head to Celia as they did. “He is your father, so I will moderate my tone. Out of respect. But I do not care for the way he spoke to you.”

Celia looked at him, meeting his eyes and seeing his resolve. Unshakable and in her service.

She smiled, feeling the warmth of protection she had once derived from her father. Cornelius the warrior, the commander of men in battle, indefatigable. Now, there was her husband. Steel to her father’s iron.

But for how long? Oh, Alexander, if only I could believe that you are not just biding your time to be rid of me.

She led him into the sitting room and stopped dead in the doorway. Sitting on the chaise was the Viscountess Alvey, mother to Lavinia.

Celia’s eyes flicked from Lady Alvey’s haughty, dismissive expression to Lavinia, sitting across the room, whispering to Aurelia.

“Lady Alvey and her daughter had arranged to visit for elevenses,” Edna explained. “We did not know you were coming.”

“Good morning to you, Your Grace,” Lady Alvey greeted Alexander. “I trust our presence here is not an embarrassment to you?”

“Why would it be, Lady Alvey?” Alexander asked.

“Why, because of your engagement to my daughter and the unfortunate circumstances that led to its end.”

“I assure you, I feel no embarrassment whatsoever. I already spoke with Miss Dunnings on the matter and made my feelings clear.”

“Have you?” Celia asked, then flushed, realizing that, of course, they must have discussed the end of their engagement.

But it felt like a betrayal, as though it had happened behind her back.

“We met at the British Museum, one of Alexander’s favorite places,” Lavinia elaborated.

She walked to her mother’s side with a companionable arm around Aurelia.

For her part, Aurelia seemed uncomfortable, looking from Celia to Lavinia as though torn.

“Is it? I did not know,” Celia murmured.

“Oh, well, I am sure you will learn these things. We were not engaged for long.”

“I think that my wife already knows me better than other women,” Alexander declared coolly. “Scovell, are we to discuss our business in front of your guests?”

“By no means, Your Grace,” Cornelius replied. “Perhaps you and I should retire to my study. I would like to discuss financial matters with you.”

“Then let us proceed,” Alexander said impatiently.

“I will come with you—” Celia began.

“I think you should remain here, Celia,” Cornelius cut in. “Your mother has missed you.”

“But this concerns me,” Celia protested.

“I will represent your interests fully,” Alexander assured her.

He preceded Cornelius out of the room.

Celia was left looking at the door, which her father closed behind them.

“Shall we play cards?” Lavinia suggested with a bright smile. “Aurelia and I have become quite the team at bridge. Mother does not play, but you and Lady Scovell can pair up against us?”

She patted the seat on the chaise next to her, indicating that Aurelia should sit. That left Celia to take an armchair next to her mother, who was already clearing the table in between for cards.

“An excellent notion.” Celia forced a smile. “Perhaps we can discuss art as we play. Aurelia and I were speaking of art earlier, weren’t we, Aurelia?”

“I’m afraid I know little about art,” Lavinia said.

“At least about drawing or painting. Literature is also art, is it not? I do find the idea of writing quite diverting, though. I enjoy reading and am in awe of those who can weave a story straight out of their imaginations. Or recounting true events, for that matter. Why, I was discussing this not so long ago with a gentleman of my acquaintance. He writes for a living.”

She held Celia’s eyes for a moment too long for casual conversation. Her smile hid layers of meaning.

Celia matched it, disguising smile for disguising smile.

“A picture is worth a thousand words, they say,” she said.

“But pictures are fixed. Words can suggest, or leave to the imagination, far more exciting notions than a picture could ever communicate,” Lavinia opined.

“I do not care for this conversation,” Lady Alvey sniffed and raised her chin.

“A man who makes a living scribbling is not a gentleman. Nor is one who makes a living scratching out pictures. Artists and writers are not gentlemen and should not be among the acquaintances of respectable young ladies.”

“Oh, Petula, what about men like Shakespeare?” Edna asked.

“A fine Englishman, but not a gentleman. I would forbid Lavinia from marrying him if he were alive now and seeking her hand, no matter his fame. In fact, I wouldn’t let her marry him because of his fame.”

Celia listened as the cards were dealt and the two elder ladies discussed the respectability or otherwise of the artistic type. Lady Alvey knew that Celia was one of those artistic types. Celia took her critique as a personal attack, but she was most incensed by Lavinia’s words.

She is telling me that she is behind the gossip that has found its way into the scandal sheets. I am certain of it. First, she needles me with her knowledge of Alexander. Then, she tells me she has the means to spread more lies about me. What does she want? Alexander?

Jealousy burned within Celia, hot and bright. The idea of Alexander and Lavinia together seared her to the marrow. But along with that was the fear of losing her sister.

I will show you, Lavinia. Aurelia will see the truth. You will not take my sister away from me. Or my husband.

“You should know, Scovell, that I have the means to set the record straight concerning Aurelia. I have more than one contact who can influence the opinion of the ton, steer them from one to another,” Alexander said.

He was seated in Cornelius Frid’s study. The room was comfortably appointed and full of military regalia. Cornelius had offered him a glass of excellent brandy and a cigar before taking a position before the fire. Alexander sat in an armchair to the side.

Cornelius stood with legs braced apart, a glass of brandy on the mantelpiece, one hand holding his cigar to his lips, the other clasped behind him. He looked every inch the army officer.

“That is gratifying to hear. I would not have Aurelia blot her copybook so early in her social life. Miss Dunnings has been beside herself for not guiding Aurelia better. She has become a surrogate sister to my younger daughter.”

“Your daughter has a sister, and she resides a short carriage ride away,” Alexander pointed out.

Cornelius looked at him, his eyebrows drawing down. “What am I to think of that sister when I am presented with this?”

He reached into a pocket and took out a folded piece of paper. He handed it to Alexander, who opened it and read its contents.

“Note the date on that rag. It was printed two days ago. This is new gossip, new scandal. To suggest that my daughter went away in order to… That her mother and I would…” Cornelius shook his head. “Were you aware of this?” he asked.

Alexander tore the page several times before rising to throw the pieces into the fire. “I was not, but it does not matter. It will be dealt with in the same way I am dealing with the scandal involving your other daughter.”

“At the risk of sounding rude, Your Grace, you were the man found beneath my daughter. Discovered in a compromising position. How am I to trust your word?”

“Because I am the Duke of Cheverton,” Alexander snapped.

“Because I made a vow before God and witnesses to defend your daughter when I took her as my wife. I do not know how much store you or anyone else sets by the marriage you witnessed, but those vows guide me. I am a man of honor. If I were not, I would have walked away from your daughter and your whole dratted family.”

He knew he was speaking harshly and could see that Cornelius was battling his own anger, trying to pay the respect that Alexander’s rank was due. But questioning his honor was a sore point.

But then, have I not employed Archibald Wainwright to besmirch my reputation when it suited me?

When I wished to appear as a worthless rake to protect my father’s memory.

I cannot blame a man for questioning my integrity when I have employed a competent man to undermine it publicly.

Damnation, but this is a wretched bind to be in.

Father, why did you have to be so damnably generous? !

“I apologize if I have caused offense. I speak as a father,” Cornelius murmured.

“And I as a husband,” Alexander retorted. “And on that subject, I am taking Celia to my solicitor to show her my accounts. She will shortly be able to confirm to you that her dowry is safe. I thought you should know that.”

Cornelius reached for his brandy and knocked it back in one swallow. “That is well. I had not thought of it, to be honest. The scandals that seem to be following my children were of greater concern.”

Alexander was surprised to feel a tinge of guilt. He did not know where it had come from. His priority had always been Hyacinth.

She is my sister, not just my half sister. Damn the fact that we have different mothers.

But now he felt guilty about bringing up the subject of money. It was as though he were admitting that he did not care for Celia except for the money she brought to his coffers.

I did not feel guilty about the prospect of marrying Lavinia for money. Not one iota. So why do I shy away from regarding Celia the same way?

The mere thought of her quickened his pulse and breathing. He could not look at her without seeing her as he had the night they had made love. Seeing her pale femininity. Her lean, soft limbs. Round hips and full breasts.

He downed his brandy to chase away the thoughts. What mattered was money. Money for his sister. His family. A family that Celia was now part of.

I could change that once the dowry is paid and Hyacinth makes her debut. Once the scandals have been dealt with, I will be free. Free to quietly put my wife aside. Just as I have always planned.

Why does that thought now make me sad?