Her mother shook her head, her russet curls dancing. “It was the most unusual of sensations. Thank goodness your brother was there and was able to arrange it all. Although I did know that you two were in love, I was surprised by…the news of clandestine events. But passion. It is marvelous. And I’m so glad you two have found it and are in love.”

“Mama, we are not in—”

The dowager duchess swung her gaze to her mother and declared over Jack’s doubts, “I knew it the moment I saw them the other night. There was no possibility that my son was going to be able to avoid asking for your daughter’s hand. Oh, no. I saw the way he looked at her. Poor fool.”

The dowager turned her sharp but approving stare to her daughter-in-law. “And the way you looked at him. Welcome to the family, my darling.”

She gaped at the dowager duchess, shocked by the summation. “He does not love me,” she finally managed.

Her mother and the dowager exchanged a glance, both of them clearly not believing her protestations.

“Whatever the case may be, my darling,” her mother insisted, taking a step back. “You two are married. And now we are in quite a predicament.”

“Oh?” she queried, her stomach knotting. She had hoped to hide and live in ignorant bliss of gossip for one day at least.

It seemed not.

“The entiretonknows the situation,” her mother declared, folding her gloved hands before her.

She let out a groan, though she couldn’t feel shock.

The dowager nodded her dark-haired head. “You see, this morning the news was broken to me, not by a loving family member or even a nice note from my son. I learned of it from my butler, Ford, who learned of it from the housekeeper next door, who learned of it from the lady’s maid of the house across the street. My dear, it is already all over London that you have been ruined and redeemed in one night.”

The dowager touched her hand and arched a brow. Andsmiled. “Well done. My hat is off to you for achieving such success, and dare I say, infamy. Though the latter shall not last for long once we have polished you into a diamond of a duchess.”

A diamond of a duchess. She could scarcely imagine such a thing.

Jack coughed. “It was not my intent to be successful in this sort of thing.”

“You wished to fail?” the dowager duchess said, her brows rising. “You are a duchess now, my dear. You are triumphant, and no matter the wildness of this particular moment, no one will dare say a word against you. And if they do, your mother and I shall cut them down at the ankles and toss them into the Thames.”

She let out a peep of dismay at the idea of causing so much difficulty.

The duchess softened and took her hands. “Do not worry, dear girl. It shall not come to that. Our words are most excellent weapons. I do not believe anyone can give a better cut direct than I or your mother.”

The women were such complete opposites, but in all her life, she’d never felt so supported.

She turned her gaze from one dowager to the next.

Her mother stood in a light purple gown, still in mourning, and the Dowager Duchess of Stone stood in a crimson gown, her hair curled and a feathered bonnet atop it. They were both remarkable women, with entirely different approaches to society, and Jack suddenly found herself to be an extremely lucky woman.

She forced herself to meet the moment with courage rather than dread. Dread would do nothing for her, after all. “If it is already such a known scandal, whatever shall I do?” A sudden thought struck her and she grimaced. “I did not wish to give difficulty to James.”

His mother threw back her dark head, causing the long-plumed feathers to dance, and laughed. “My darling. It is the best thing you ever could have done for him, and I am extremely grateful that you have done so. He needs someone like you to yank him out of his rules.”

The dowager clapped her hands together. “I have brought every possible thing that you shall need for the most exquisite party today. Your mother and I have already sent out the invitations. The guests shall arrive in three hours’ time.”

“What?” she gasped, nearly bowled over by their planning and exuberance.

“Oh, yes,” her mother agreed. “It shall be the wedding breakfast of the decade. It must be, dearest. There are servants already out in the garden, making sure that it is festooned with every possible glorious thing.”

She swung her gaze toward the gardens, though of course she couldn’t see them. “You two are a marvel,” she breathed.

“Yes, we know,” the dowager duchess replied.

Her mother inclined her head and added, “But it was necessary that we take things in hand if we are to secure your reputation in society as someone who is not a victim.”

“A victim?” she echoed.


Tags: Eva Devon Historical