Page 9 of The Lion Duke's Proposal
He looked her up and down with narrowed eyes. “Fine. Let’s suppose Poppy finds this hypothetical gentleman who is willing to marry her. What of Julia? She’s beyond a reasonablymarriageable age already. I won’t have one leave while the other remains.”
“I promise, I have no intention of taking advantage of your hospitality,” Julia said. “Once Poppy has found a match, I intend to take the last of the money we have and find work elsewhere.”
“Work?” her aunt cried. “You can’t possibly, Julia. I won’t hear of it.”
“Dear Aunt Violet, what other choice is there?” she smiled ruefully. “It will be a miracle if we can get Poppy a husband, and I certainly don’t think there are two mysterious suitors out there ready to accept scandalous women with no dowries. I’m under no illusion as to the hopelessness of my situation and am willing to accept whatever I need to do. But Poppy shouldn’t have to.” She turned back to her uncle. “Please give us a chance to help her. Just for the Season, then we will be gone, and you’ll not hear a word from us again if that is what you wish.”
Lord Bendon swept his gaze over her, then turned to his wife, whose pleading eyes met his. He sighed. “I will give you one week. Go to this party, stay there with the. After it’s over, you can return here to gather the rest of your things and be gone before the day is out. Am I clear?”
“Yes, Lord Bendon.” Julia curtsied. She had hoped that he might at least let them see out the full Season, but he could just as easily turn them out on the street today if he so wished, so she was determined to be grateful for what he was willing to offer.
The carriage ride in Lord Bendon’s vehicle was thankfully much less bumpy and disaster-prone than their journey into London, and the three women arrived in good time, joining a queue of carriages heading up a gravel entranceway into a grand and beautiful garden.
Julia had never seen such splendor before; the lawns were green and lush, the trees blooming into life, and the tinkling fountains dotted around bore reliefs of interesting and exotic creatures.
“Who’s hosting the party?” she asked. “Do we know them?”
“Oh, I didn’t tell you? It’s exciting,” her aunt said with a mischievous smile. “The Duke of Pridewell is hosting us at his estate. It’s the first time he’s done anything like this. Most of us have never been invited before. Everyone is eager to see what he has planned. There is already talk that he may finally be looking for a bride. He is thirty now, after all.”
“I’ve never heard of him. Is he handsome? Kind?” Julia felt a spark in her stomach. Her mind began racing. It was ridiculous to hope for anything for herself, but at thirty, the Duke was closer to her age than Poppy’s, and at this stage, she would take any chance she could get.
“Both, I hear,” Lady Bendon said with a wink. “And rich enough not to care about a dowry.”
Julia smiled. “Then we should make an effort to introduce ourselves.”
The entrance hall rose high above them; its arched ceiling painted with foreign frescoes. Her gaze drifted to the grand staircase, where a stone crest crowned its peak.
The same crest she had seen on the carriage yesterday.
It cannot be.
“There he is,” Lady Bendon whispered.
Julia followed her aunt’s gaze and froze.
A tall figure stood across the way, draped in a deep red coat. His hair was as unruly as she remembered, falling carelessly in every direction. His eyes moved over the crowd with quiet authority.
“They call him the Lion,” her aunt murmured. “The moniker suits him, does it not?”
Julia nodded, though her stomach had already dropped. She forced a smile and glanced at Poppy, whose expression was just as strained.
So that was why he had been so certain they would meet again. He had known.
She turned away before he could notice them.
She steadied herself as disappointment roiled within her. The man had already proven himself rude. Better to know it now. Poppy deserved someone kind.
The image of her sister in such a house faded at once.
“Come, Poppy,” Julia said, taking her arm. “Our host must be occupied. Let us go to the ballroom. I can already hear the music.”
Lady Bendon hesitated but followed as the sisters made their way inside.
The ballroom was lavishly adorned with flowers, waiters moving easily through the crowd with trays of wine and delicacies. Whatever his manners, the Duke had excellent taste.
“I’m rather nervous,” Poppy admitted once they were inside. “There are so many people. I feel as though everyone is watching me.”
“Ignore it,” Julia said gently. “Anyone gossiping about us is not worth our time. Let us find a place to observe the dancers.”
