Page 4 of A Highly Unlikely Duchess
“Perfectly understood, Your Grace. Shall we return to the ballroom together? I could show you some of the top contenders,” Julia asked, her voice light with a newfound cheer. “I believe the orchestra is beginning a new set, and the room would be quite eager for your reappearance.”
Theodore adjusted his cuffs. “Go on without me. I need a moment of air to reconcile myself to my new status as a hunted man. I will be in shortly. I believe I still owe Lady Beatrice a dance.”
Julia nodded, offering him a satisfied pat on the arm before she turned and disappeared back into the ballroom. Theodore watched her go, his eyes following the sweep of her skirts until she was lost in the crowd.
The silence of the terrace settled over him. He stepped toward the stone balustrade, leaning his weight into his hands and staring out into the dark, manicured gardens. The cool night air hit his face, but it did very little to soothe the irritation simmering beneath his skin.
He was frustrated by it. Frustrated by the way Julia always outmaneuvered him. She had used the one weapon she had always used, the one he had no defense against, his own love for her, and she had won. Again.
He supposed he ought to be used to it by now. She knew exactly which strings to pull, and she used that affection he had for her as his godmother to always reel him in.
But as he watched the shadows move in the garden, a slow, dangerous smile began to form on his lips.
If Julia wanted him to choose from her precious registry, he would do exactly that. He would play her game, but he would rewrite the rules. She wanted him settled with a woman of substance, a paragon of virtue who would manage him.
Fine.
He would find the most disastrous candidate on her list. He would seek out a woman so unsuitable, so utterly scandalous or dreadfully dull, that Julia would be forced to watch her master plan crumble.
He would choose a woman so appalling that Julia herself would eventually come to him on bended knee, begging him to break off the engagement and return to his life of bachelorhood.
Theodore straightened his waistcoat and smoothed his hair. The anxiety — merely thinking about the idea of marriage — that had gripped him earlier was gone.
“You want a wedding, Aunt Julia?” he whispered to the empty air. “I shall give you a spectacle you will never forget.”
CHAPTER TWO
“I’m terrified, My Lady. I am absolutely terrified,” Peggy said, her voice shaking harder than the carriage as it rattled over the uneven stones of the path. “Great Heavens, we must turn back now before it is too late. I cannot allow you to do this. It’s madness, I tell you! Total madness!”
“Would you calm yourself, Peggy!” Emily Pierce hushed Peggy, her maid. “You are being utterly ridiculous. Am I dying?”
“Not yet,” Peggy said darkly.
“Am I bleeding?”
“No, My Lady.”
“Is the carriage on fire?”
Peggy looked around, as though genuinely checking. “No.”
“Then I fail to see...” Emily said, smoothing her skirts. “...what the emergency is.”
“I should not have told you,” Peggy said, fiddling with her hands in her lap. “I blame my big mouth. I should not have told you. The housekeeper always said that my big mouth would get me in trouble, and now I believe her. I have gotten my lady in trouble. Oh, great heavens. Forgive me.”
“Peggy.”
“I am so sorry, My Lady.”
“Peggy.”
“Truly, deeply sorry —”
“Peggy, if you apologize one more time, I shall be forced to leave you on the side of this road with nothing but your big mouth for company!” Emily rapped. “Stop overreacting. You did not get me in trouble. We haven’t even done anything yet. You gave me information, which is what you always do, and I made a decision with it, which is what I always do. That is how we work. That is how we have always worked.”
Peggy did not look remotely comforted by this.
Emily studied her for a moment and shook her head, amused. Peggy had been with her since they were girls, since the days when Emily was ten years old, small and very serious. Peggyhad been thirteen, round-cheeked and always smiling, already knowing everything about everyone in the household before the week was out. They had not been assigned to each other so much as they had simply gravitated together, the way certain people do.
