“Of course they can,” he replied tightly, “if one is a duke.”
She rolled her eyes. “Good evening, Your Grace.”
And with that, she turned on her heel and went straight back into the ballroom, hopefully to find her family.
He stared after her, wondering what the devil had just happened. How had she stolen his thoughts so quickly and put him on such a strange path? What he was doing was far more than he had ever done with someone that he’d promised to make a match for.
This was different.
Jacquelinewas different. And he did not know what to make of it, except that he could not wait for tomorrow night, and he felt more excitement than he had felt in years.
Chapter Nine
Jack could not stop pacing up and down the foyer of the Fairweather townhouse. Her slippers all but wore a trench over the beautiful black-and-white checkered marble installed only five years ago.
She was awaiting her dear friend, Olivia, to descend the rather elaborate and slightly gaudy, if she was honest, staircase.
It had been most vexing, her friend’s absence from society these last two days. And it was simply no longer to be borne. She had important information to share. Information that could not wait another day.
She could scarcely contain herself any longer.
The butler, Harold, had gone upstairs several minutes ago, and yet her friend had not yet appeared. It was driving her to distraction. They shared everything. And always had, ever since they’d taken up writing letters with her so far away in Vienna.
Over those years, both of them had spilled out their hearts and minds, confessing their fears, dreams, and irritations.
Of course, given her family, most assumed that Louise was her most intimate confidante. The truth was she wasn’t. They were far too different. And though they were close, Jacqueline could not unburden herself to her, whereas her dear friend Olivia, whom she had written to almost every day, knew the depths and darkest and most secret wishes of her soul.
She’d even known she was going to approach the duke about her dilemma. Olivia had been most trepidatious about the whole affair. And then she had not shown up at the ball last night!
She’d now been holding her news for more than twenty-four hours, an insupportable thing.
Jacqueline was about to cast off all decorum, as she seemingly had already done, and dart up the stairs herself in search of her friend.
She barely held herself back, knowing such a thing would be beyond the pale.
At last, though, she heard the sounds of firm and determined slipper steps coming down from the above hall.
Much to her relief, she spotted Olivia at the top of the steps. Her beautiful friend stood in golden glory, her blonde hair coiled atop her head, and a cheerful butter-yellow gown skimming her lithe figure.
But, in opposition to her sunny gown, a strange look marred her usually cheerful visage. “I am not supposed to come downstairs,” Olivia whispered.
“Why not?” she demanded.“Are you ill?”
Her friend didn’t look ill. Far from it.
“I am recovering from a spot,” Olivia hissed, her cheeks burning bright.
“And why would that prevent you from seeing me?” Jack queried.
Olivia sighed and glanced upward, as if she might be able to see her mother through the elaborate stuccoing of the high ceiling. “Mama is most odd about such things and is determined that I preserve my reputation as the season’s diamond. It’s not an easy thing to do given our family’s background.”
It was tempting to brush off her friend’s concerns, but she would not be so selfish.
The truth was Olivia was not from a great family. As a matter of fact, they were barely better than city people in the eyes of many. They had only been admitted to the Court of St. James but a few years ago, and her grandfather had been in a rather lowly trade.
A trade that had made a sizable fortune.
But there was one simple truth.