Page 18 of It's All About the Duke
“Oh?” Justine’s thick, light-brown brows lifted. She tucked her handkerchief under the sleeve of her cuff as if she were only mildly interested in what Marlena had said. “Yes, of course. I’d expect him to return. Tomorrow?”
“He didn’t say when. Just that he would.”
“I would assume tomorrow afternoon or the next. He didn’t get to tell me what it is he wanted of me.”
Marlena relaxed a little. Her cousin’s softened voice was welcomed. Though Justine was only just past the halfway mark in her thirties, Marlena had never felt closeness between them. Justine wasn’t unkind, her disposition not unpleasant—most of the time—but she was fastidious about routines and didn’t like hers upset—unless, of course, a duke was doing it. Marlena often acquiesced to the older lady’s schedule regarding when they could take a walk in the park, what time they were served dinner, or when they went out to shop for a new bonnet or pair of gloves. After all, even though they were related, she was still a guest in Justine’s house. A paid guest, because Mr. Olingworth compensated Justine for taking care of Marlena.
Justine’s most annoying trait was that she loved to talk about the past. It was as if she couldn’t enjoy the present for always remembering the time when she was younger. She loved to talk about who had sought her hand and themany offers of marriage she declined her debut year. The list was endless. Almost any subject that came up could cause her to recall something that had happened the year she was an available miss.
“I’m pleased to hear the duke’s returning,” Justine continued, absently running her fingers over the large topaz. “As I told you earlier, we’ve met before on a number of occasions at various parties. Teas, balls, and the like. And we did have a dance. I’m sure. Though it was a few years ago.” She stopped and smiled as with sweet remembrances. “I was much younger then.” She repeated her earlier statement but didn’t seem to notice. “He was younger, too. I was the diamond of the Season when I made my debut. Everyone said so, and I’m sure he noticed me. I had many gentlemen seeking my attention. Even Viscount Harthill. I suppose I should have married him when I had the chance. If I had I’d be living in a house in Mayfair now and not here in St. James.”
Marlena knew the story well. Justine loved to tell it over and over again.
“Of course I couldn’t marry the viscount. He was older than Wallace and not nearly as dashing and handsome. Every young lady wanted Wallace to offer for their hand so I had to accept when he chose me. I mean, I was the diamond of the Season. I had to marry the one gentleman every other young lady wanted.” She sighed. “But I remember the viscount courting me as if it were yesterday.”
“I’m sure of that, too,” Marlena said, not wanting her cousin to launch into another story from the past.
Justine touched her hair and then lifted her bosom and her shoulders. “Did His Grace happen to mention why he sought me out?”
Marlena didn’t know exactly how to answer that question, because Justine wanted to believe he had been there to see her. Noting the letter by the lamp, she picked it up.“It seems the reason he came over was to bring this letter from Mr. Olingworth. After being my guardian for close to ten years, he has signed responsibility for me over to my new guardian, the Duke of Rathburne.”
“What?” Justine screeched as if a rocker had just been pressed over her bare toes.
“He came to introduce himself to me.”And ended up doing so much more.
Marlena rubbed her fingers where the duke’s hand had touched hers when she’d reached for the books he was holding. As if it were happening right now, she felt his fingertips lightly caressing her skin while he untied her ribbon.
“The duke? Your guardian? He wouldn’t do that. No, I can’t believe it. There must be something wrong.” Justine gave Marlena a skeptical glance and then eyed the letter. “Let me see that.” She took the correspondence from Marlena without waiting for it to be offered. Huffing she said, “You always leave everything to me. How could you know what it says? Thunderbolts and lightning, Marlena, you haven’t even opened it yet.”
“His Grace told me what it said. I had no reason to doubt his word on something as important as this.”
“A duke? Of course not, but I’ll see for myself what this is about.” She broke the wax seal and unfolded the pages. Scanning the writing, she began to mumble the words she was reading. Her eyes grew bigger, rounder. Her mumble grew louder.
Justine looked up at her and smiled. In an instant, she grabbed Marlena and smothered her up to her ample breasts, squeezing Marlena tightly. Her cousin’s perfume had a heavy musky note of pine and evergreen. All the powder she’d added to her neck and shoulders wafted scents of lavender and had Marlena struggling to breathe without taking in the mixture of fragrances.
“Dear girl! Dear girl! If this is true, the saints have smiled upon us this day. This letter has changed both our lives forever. My cousin. My charge. The ward of a duke! Nothing could make me happier or more fortunate.”
One moment Marlena was gasping for air in her cousin’s strong grasp as she mumbled one sentence after the other and the next she’d been set free and stumbled back. Justine had never been so affectionate. Marlena was stunned.
Justine’s brows lifted again. “Unless of course if I were his ward, or his… Never mind. Though there is the possibility of that. I do believe he’s interested in me, otherwise he would have simply sent a solicitor to see us. But I must wait for that answer.”
Somber once again, Justine straightened the neckline of her gown and said, “Yet I suppose we shouldn’t celebrate too much until I speak to the duke myself. I mean I see it is written by Mr. Olingworth but he is ill. We don’t know his state of mind. I really do need to hear from the duke that he’s agreed to do this. I mean I can’t be telling everyone such fortunate news only to find that it isn’t true. I could never live down the embarrassment of such a mistake.”
“The duke told me he had,” Marlena insisted as she remembered the duke’s strong words and firm expression. “He made it abundantly clear to me it was official and there would be no changing it. He even wanted us to move into his house in Mayfair.”
“Oh, my, yes! I would expect he’d want us to do that. How utterly heavenly that will be.” Justine clasped her hands together under her chin. “To return to Mayfair where I lived with Wallace and near my dear friend Lady Westerbrook. Yes, it is a dream come true.”
Marlena knew Justine often talked about the house in Mayfair where she’d lived with her husband and thesatisfying social life they’d led. After her husband had died, his uncle, who was Mr. Abernathy’s benefactor, had cut Justine’s allowance in half, and moved her from a larger house in Mayfair into the house in St. James. Maybe the reason Justine talked so often about the past was because she still hadn’t adjusted to the change in social standing among theton.
“Of course we’ll move immediately. I’ll have my maid start packing.”
Feeling a prick of guilt to disappoint the cousin who’d been good to her, she said, “Justine, I told him no.”
“No, what?” Marlena asked with a frown. “We never say no to a duke.”
“I told him I won’t move to Mayfair.”
“Doesn’t matter, dear girl,” Justine said, “I want to and the duke wants us to. He offered us his home and you can’t tell him no. I won’t allow it.”
