Page 37 of Deviant Duchess
“We do this together from now on,” he stated, his tone growing serious again. “We will end our honeymoon next week and start to attend events in London.”
Deborah made a face, and he laughed.
“I know, I am not fan of interacting with such loathsome creatures either. However, you know just as well as I how much gossip is shared at balls and parties. If we appear as a couple in love, people will stop talking about us and start talkingtous. About many things.”
Though still appearing displeased, Deborah nodded.
“What about Adeline?” She then asked. “I still want to help her, and I want to mend your relationship with her as well, if possible.”
“We will bring her with us,” Cedric decided after a moment. “Perhaps I have kept her too shuttered in here. If you take her about town with you, to the modiste and such, perhaps her attitude at least will change.”
Deborah thought on this for a moment, then gave another nod.
“She seemed to really open up to my sister, Grace. Perhaps you are right. Either way, it is worth a try,” she replied.
“Very good,” Cedric said.
He then rose from his seat and offered his hand to Deborah. His heart fluttered when she almost instantly took it and stood beside him.
“So we have a plan?” He asked, raising a brow.
“We have a plan,” Deborah agreed, and he loved that deviant smile of hers lit up her face again.
CHAPTER THIRTEEN
“Come, Adeline, let us look at the ribbons,” Grace encouraged, offering the girl her hand.
Deborah smiled warmly as she watched Adeline take Grace’s hand without a moment's hesitation and follow Grace through the modiste’s shop, where the wide wall of colorful ribbons was on display. It was only yesterday that Deborah, Adeline, and Cedric had arrived to take up residence in his London house, but she was ready to get to work taking down Sylvester.
“You are returning to society then,” Frances asked, her tone careful as she rubbed a bit of ice blue silk on its bolt.
Deborah turned from watching her sister and niece to look at her mother.
“Cedric and I thought it was prudent to do so,” Deborah replied, keeping her tone light and conversational.
“Hmm,” her mother hummed, moving to another bolt of fabric.
Deborah rolled her eyes, already exhausted by her mother’s presence. She missed who Frances used to be, but the woman she was now? Deborah did not know her. Or much like her.
“What do you have to say, Mother?” Deborah sighed, drawn to a bolt of lavender-pink silk. “I know you must have something.”
The lavender tickled Deborah’s mind. It was bold and highlighted her complexion and natural attributes, but not overly so. With the right design, it could capture her peers' eyes just the way she wanted. She waved over one of the seamstresses, and the girl immediately collected it for her. As soon as she was gone, Deborah turned to her mother with an expectant look.
“Well,” Frances sighed, that one word already increasing Deborah’s annoyance, “You know what they say about married rakes.”
Deborah closed her eyes, willing her temper to stay in check.
“No, Mother, what do they say?” she asked, fighting the urge to rub at the pain growing in her temples.
“That if properly tamed they make the best husbands,” Frances answered, dismissing yet another bolt of fine fabric.
Her lack of appreciation for the finer fabrics astounded Deborah. It was barely a month ago that they were all ready to use the curtains to make new dresses. Now her mother was acting as if even the best was not good enough for her.
“Ifproperly tamed,” Frances emphasized.
“And pray, what does that mean?” Deborah asked.
Frances finally turned from her perusal to pin her daughter with a narrowed gaze.
