Page 8 of It's All About the Duke
“Yes.”
“You who mortified them in front of their parents, friends, and beaus? Leaving them completely defenseless.”
“Not intentionally, but yes,” he admitted without complaint.
“What you did caused their loved ones to question their honesty, their virtue, and their marriage prospects.”
“I can’t deny any of that, and I’m sure you assume I’m guilty of much more.”
“I have no doubt,” Marlena said and then realized he was taking her responses to him as a challenge, not an insult.
Besting the duke would not be easy. She had no idea where she was getting the fortitude to be so bold with him. Perhaps it was because she’d written about him, taken him to task under the privacy of an assumed name in her gossip sheet for almost three years. That must be why she now felt comfortable doing it face-to-face. Or it could be as simple as knowing how Veronica had suffered because of the secret admirer letters, thereby causing Eugenia to bear the burden, too. Marlena would never forget hearing from Eugenia that neither the duke nor his two friends had ever been reprimanded by Society for those letters in any way. Because they were dukes.
“I know it doesn’t help now,” His Grace said. “But we never thought we’d end up proving that all the strict morals and manners that had been instilled in the young ladies from their birth would leave them at the possibilityof someone being secretly in love with them. But yes, I suppose when the three of us were contemplating or even carrying out this idea one of us should have been wise enough or perhaps sober enough to say,This isn’t a good idea. But none of us did. And it ended up every one of the ladies wanted to have a secret admirer.”
“But they didn’t want the whole world to know that about them.”
“It was never our intent anyone but the three of us know about any of it. I admit the wager between my friends and me to see who could entice the most young ladies to meet a secret admirer should have never happened. It was wrong. But it was years ago. And quite frankly, Miss Fast, I’m tired of being haunted by it.”
Marlena thought of Veronica and Eugenia again and how their lives had been affected. If it hadn’t been for the letters, Veronica wouldn’t have married Mr. Portington. If she hadn’t married the older gentleman, she and Eugenia wouldn’t be so unhappy.
But putting those thoughts aside, Marlena said, “Haunted by it? If so, that’s because you never suffered any ill effects because of the letters.”
The duke straightened, shrugged. “Judging the merits of my past behavior is not why I’m here. You are. As your guardian, the first thing I want to do is move you and your cousin into my Mayfair house.”
“Move?” Marlena felt as if someone had punched her in the stomach, causing her to lose her breath. “To Mayfair? You can’t be serious.” She pulled on the ribbon around her neck. Why hadn’t she been able to untie the worrisome thing?
“It’s bigger than this house and completely staffed.”
Marlena’s heart started racing. Move from next door to Eugenia? She couldn’t. Her friend was the one whosaw to itMiss Honora Truth’s Scandal Sheetmade it to the publisher each week. And if Marlena moved, where would Veronica go for reassurance when a new shipment of her husband’s fossils arrived and she became stricken with yet another attack of despair? If Marlena didn’t write the scandal sheet, where would the sisters get the extra money needed for their household?
“I don’t want to move,” she told the duke hastily, refusing to give in and give up without a fight.
“I’m trying to do what’s right by you, Miss Fast. Mayfair will be a better place for you to live during the Season.”
No, Marlena couldn’t leave St. James. Becoming friends with the sisters had been a welcomed addition to her life when she first came to London. They had needed her friendship and she needed them, too. Eugenia and Veronica were her friends. Her cousin was older and more like a governess. Justine was always telling Marlena what she must do and how she must do it. For once Marlena was taking care of someone other than herself and she wouldn’t let them down. She would find a way out of moving away, as she had found her way out of the marsh, the woods, and the gravestones.
Marlena had never lacked for anything that she could remember, but she’d never wanted much. Her aunt, uncle, and cousins had never needed her when she lived with them, but she’d needed them. The boys had taught her how to be strong, resilient, and most of all to not be afraid. Having Eugenia and Veronica to help and visit with gave her things to do other than garden work, stitchery, and reading—which she enjoyed and wanted to do—while waiting around to make her debut into Society. Something that she couldn’t say she was eager to do.
“You’ll find you’ll have no worries there. Everything will be handled for you.”
Marlena put her thoughts back to the matter at hand. “I thank you for the offer, but I’d rather remain where I am. It’s very generous of you to suggest a larger home. I’m quite content with my life as it is now and see no reason to change it.”
The duke shifted his weight. His gaze swept up and down her face as if studying every detail of her features. She remained adamant in her stance.
“Maybe you aren’t understanding me,” he said softly, but without equivocating. “Olingworth only allowed you to forgo the Season the last two years because of his illness. I have no such restrictions. You’re now my responsibility and I will see you suitably wed. You need to attend the Season so you can meet all the eligible gentlemen and settle on a husband. Presumably, someone you care for and someone who will adore you so you won’t have to be anyone’s ward but a gentleman’s wife.”
“But I don’t want that,” she insisted. “Not yet, anyway.”
“That is what young ladies do, Miss Fast,” he said with an edge of irritation creeping into his tone once again. “Not only is Mayfair the better place for you, you’ll need someone to sponsor you and train you in all the right—”
“Train me!” Marlena had never gasped so many times in her life. “You have some nerve even for a duke, Your Grace. I am not a dog or a carnival animal to be trained.”
He frowned and rubbed the back of his neck. “That was a poor choice of words.”
“I’m glad you realize that.”
“I’m not accustomed to arguing with young ladies about what is best for their future.”
