Page 46 of The Odyssean Duke

“I imagine that we will hold a club meeting soon,” she continued. “I trust you know that Evelina is the founder of the Corset Chronicles Club?”

“I am quite aware,” Stephan said.

The Duchess of Hawthorne smiled thinly, her eyes darting to the two women who sat across from her. Stephan glanced beside the Duchess of Hawthorne. Her husband sat to her left, her mother to her right. The lady’s mother was scandalous, the rare woman who had received a separation from her husband.

Stephan tried to remember what the circumstances had been, but they escaped him. He did have a vague memory of someone—likely Murrayton—telling him that sordid tale, though.

The remaining two ladies were members of Evelina’s club. One was the Duchess of Winterleigh. Stephan looked between the pair, trying to decide which one of Evelina’s scandalous friends that was.

“We meet often.” This speaker was the lady with brown hair and a smattering of freckles across her face; Stephan knew thatmany men considered freckles to be unattractive, but he found that they lent her a winsome expression. “And I do not believe Evelina will wish to cease meetings now that she is married.”

“Of course not, Maria,” Evelina said.

Maria—that meant she was the Duchess of Winterleigh. The remaining lady must be Anna, the Duchess of Wutherton.

Stephan found himself rather pleased at correctly remembering half his guests. Once he had identified the ladies, it was easy enough to find their husbands.

“I would not dream of asking Evelina to cease her club meetings,” Stephan said. “A lady ought to have something productive with which to occupy her time.”

“Yes, herfriends,” the Duchess of Wutherton said.

The three women looked at him as if they were planning a mutiny. Stephan’s lips twitched in amusement. Strangely, the thought of mutiny did not conjure his own memories at sea. Instead, he imagined Odysseus facing a mutiny from a group of angry, gown-clad women. Evelina’s friends were certainly formidable ladies.

It begged the question: what manner of men would find pleasure in marrying such unusual women? Stephan’s gaze snapped to the Duchess of Wutherton, who was clearly with child and who ought to have left society long ago.

“What is your club?” asked Murrayton.

“We are a gathering of ladies,” said Evelina. “Our purpose is to discuss ideas and innovations which impact women’s lives.”

“Along with certain intellectual matters,” added Evelina’s sister.

“A group of bluestockings,” said Murrayton. “Perhaps, my wife might join you. Amelia is quite an intellectual.”

“Perhaps,” Evelina said.

“Your wife is not with you today.” Evelina’s mother looked at Murrayton with a wary expression.

“She is a little unwell,” Murrayton said. “In truth, I would not have come to the wedding at all if Rothbury was not such a dear friend. My darling is often plagued with headaches, and on those days, I like to remain close to her.”

Stephan wondered how Amelia felt about that. He could too easily imagine Murrayton hovering over his wife like a mother hen, promising everything she might possibly want, while the poor lady tried to sleep.

“Does His Grace have many friends?” asked the Duchess of Hawthorne.

“Theo,” the Duke of Hawthorne said, lips twitching in amusement.

The duchess widened her eyes in mock surprise. “I am only trying to learn more about my sister’s new husband!”

The Duke of Hawthorne shook his head. “I suspect you will not leave this breakfast without enduring an interrogation, Rothbury.”

Stephan chuckled. The duke’s words were thoughtful, even endearing, but his face told another story. Stephan had faced many battles, but never quite one like this. It was as if he was being faced with a table full of adversaries, who were choosing to fight with words instead of weapons.

Maybe he ought to suggest that they all duel instead. Stephan vaguely recalled reading a medieval text about some hapless knight who had encountered three fights in a single day. As was conventional, said knight had emerged victorious in every single battle, resulting in himself befriending his former adversaries. Regrettably, Stephan doubted he would be as lucky.

“There is not much to say,” Stephan said. “I left London ten years ago and joined the fight against Napoleon. After my father died, I returned and took the title of Duke of Rothbury.”

“The Dowager Duchess is not here,” said the Duke of Wutherton.

Stephan clenched his jaw so tightly that it hurt. He had only just remembered that heknewthis man. The Duke of Wutherton was one of his father’s former associates. Stephan had even visited him on occasion! He nearly groaned at the realization.