All of thetonwere bowing and scraping before her, calling her “Your Grace” and “duchess.”
It was a remarkable sight to behold when one considered that but a fortnight ago, they did not even give her a passing glance.
Of course, the night she had played the pianoforte did help.
They all remembered how transfixed they had been, and some had suggested that was the reason the duke had swept her away, because he was so entranced and enraptured with her performance.
She rather liked this idea and allowed them to think it. Every person she spoke to was pleasant…well, as pleasant as members of thetoncould be given their general state of ennui and barbed innuendo.
She’d never been treated so well.
Clearly, when one was a duchess, everyone was pleasant. At least to one’s face.
She knew that perhaps in a few days’ time, there could be some scathing comments in the news sheets or whispers behind fans and in clubs.
But she was now one of the most powerful ladies in all of Europe. And she was not going to forget it. She’d been raised to wealth and privilege, even if she had not been raised to be a diamond.
Now she was more important than that.
Now she was a coronet.
She let her gaze trail over the beautifully gilded crush of people reveling in the lush arrangements of the garden, looking for her husband.
For one moment, her heart leaped at the sight of his face and imposing physique.
Stone stood on the edge of it all, by her brother, drinking champagne. He did not look as languid and self-possessed as he usually did.
As a matter of fact, he looked a slight bit worse for wear, which was quite odd, because he’d seemed to have handled the night so well.
After the rather emotional wedding, the night had been perfection.
She hoped it was a promise of the nights to come.
The idea of spending the rest of her life in his arms, experiencing such pleasures whenever they chose, was hardly believable.
And yet, by law, it was allowed.
More than laws, she loved him, she always had, and she always would. And now she was to spend the rest of her life as his wife.
She did not know what was ahead, but surely it was full of possibilities, their future.
She had to believe that. It was the only thing keeping her afloat in the wild storm of their unfolding relationship.
Her husband tensed suddenly as if catching sight of something.
She turned to see what he had spotted and, much to her horror, she realized Lord Drexel had managed to gain admittance.
The footman had not called his name, and therefore he had somehow slipped in another way.
It was a shocking state of affairs.
People did, of course, find their way into parties without invitations, but not someone like that. Not someone so abhorrent, not someone who was so clearly an enemy who wished her ill.
Before another word could pass between her husband and her brother, James was striding across the garden, headed toward Lord Drexel.
Her mother-in-law placed her hand on Jack’s shoulder. “Wait,” she said. “We must not intervene. Something is amiss, and if we do, we could make it worse.”
But Jack could not stop herself.