Page 83 of A Virgin to Tempt the Duke

Thomas’s expression shifted; it was something softening at the edges, something relieved and almost wondering. “I don’t want to discourage it,” he said quietly. “Quite the contrary.”

Frederick looked at him a moment longer.

“No,” he said. “I don’t suppose that you do.” He reached for his cup, which had gone cold, and drank from it anyway. “You’ll need to court her properly. She will expect it, and she deserves it, and if you intend to do this you will do itcorrectly.”

“I intend to do it correctly! I will do everything correctly!”

“And if you make her unhappy?—”

“Oh, that I know.” Thomas held his gaze without flinching, his arms raised in mock surrender. “You don’t need to finish that sentence.”

“No, I don’t.”

He set down the cup, and Thomas was still watching him, still waiting, and Frederick understood that what was being waited for was not permission. Even though he was a duke, Thomas was not a man who needed permission from him. It was something older than that, something that had been between them since they were boys, a kind of connection that was older than time itself.

“You are my closest friend,” Frederick said. “She is the person I love most in the world.” He was quiet for a moment. “There is no man I would rather she chose. You should know that. You have my blessing.”

Thomas closed his eyes briefly.

“Thank you,” Thomas said at last as he opened them.

Frederick waved a hand, dismissing the sentiment before it could become anything either of them would have to acknowledge. “Now, finish your tea. It’s cold, but you should finish it. You damn near had a heart attack.”

Thomas laughed, a real one that was full of relief. He picked up his cup, and they sat in comfortable silence. There was nothing left to say at that moment. Frederick watched the afternoon light move across the study floor when Percy appeared in the doorway. He assessed the situation, shook his head, and withdrew.

“It appears Percy gives his blessing as well.”

CHAPTER 30

As many times as I have set foot in this house, it has never been for such a happy occasion.

Anna stood in the doorway of the drawing room and took in the flowers first. Rathbourne House had been adorned with hundreds of roses, arranged in an artless way that was organic and elegant. The candles had been lit two hours before sunset, so that they glowed perfectly as the guests arrived. She caught the hum of a room full of people genuinely pleased to be there, which was rarer than it should have been at parties. She felt the warmth of it move through her chest before she remembered to be careful.

I almost forgot whose house this is. If I am lucky, I will not have to speak to him.It is not avoidance. It is tact. I am here for Rachel and her engagement, and nothing else.

She took a glass from a passing tray, smiled at the familiar footman, and began to work her way around the perimeter of theroom in the direction of Rachel. She was intercepted before she reached her by old Mrs. Grantley, a perennial busybody.

“Lady Birchall.” Mrs. Grantley said as she materialized at her left elbow and her closest friend, Lady Hurst, at her right.

“Mrs. Grantley, Lady Hurst,” she said with a forced smile.

“Such a happy occasion,” Lady Hurst said as she fanned herself with peacock feathers. “And we hear you are having quite the successful Season yourself, Lady Birchall. Lord Wexford has been most attentive by all reports.”

“Lord Wexford has been… very kind,” Anna said.

“We wondered…” Mrs. Grantley began with a wide smile that made Anna want to turn and run.

“When there might be asecondannouncement to celebrate?” Lady Hurst finished, because they had clearly been doing this for long enough to have achieved an efficient division of labor. “Perhaps tonight?”

“I would never overshadow my dear friend’s engagement party, nor could I say such a thing.”

“Oh, we meant no harm, dear,” Mrs. Grantley laughed as her bosom shook.

“What I can say is that today is Lord Larthby and Lady Rachel’s evening, and I think we would all do them a disservice by spending any of it speculating about anyone else. Don’t you agree?” Her voice was as sweet—and its sourness as well hidden—as lemon drops.

“Of course, dear. Well, we must make the rounds!” Lady Hurst said as she guided Mrs. Grantley to their next victim.

Anna found Rachel eventually, caught in a maelstrom of well-wishers near the window, her face flushed with a happiness she had stopped trying to keep polite. It held the same luminous quality Anna had seen in the parlor four days ago when she had confessed it all to her. Lord Larthby stood at her side with a limitless smile before excusing himself. Anna took the gap and slipped in, and Rachel seized her hand immediately.