No. Why should I cover over his sins? He was a vile man, and he made us suffer. Why should the world not know about it?
He opened his mouth, not entirely sure what he intended to say, but Miss Brookford spoke first.
“The Bainbridges are coming our way,” she said, nodding down the path ahead.
Disappointment and frustration flooded through William in equal measure. He glanced forward, and saw that Miss Brookford was indeed right. The three Bainbridges, who had apparently all ignored their assigned partners and stuck together in a trio, were heading purposefully to the path towards them. Miss Bainbridge led the way, a look of determination on her face, and William just knew that she would glue herself to his side and refuse to let him go.
He was a little surprised at the annoyance he felt. He did notwantto talk to Miss Bainbridge. He wanted to talk to Miss Brookford, alone, about subjects that were never touched on in polite Society.
I want to kiss her.
Stop it!
“You are going to marry her, aren’t you?” Miss Brookford said suddenly, earning herself a shocked stare from William.
“That’s… that’s hardly proper for us to discuss,” he managed at last.
Miss Brookford shrugged. “She would make a fine duchess.”
“Well, yes,” he managed lamely, “but that’s not all one should consider in a spouse.”
“No, I suppose not. Forgive me, your Grace. I… I am not feeling well. I shouldn’t speak this way.”
He swallowed hard, glancing down at her again. The Bainbridges were nearly upon them, and then of course all conversation would stop.
“Please, Miss Brookford. Don’t apologise for honesty. Never apologise for it. Not to me, at any rate.”
And you are right, Miss Brookford. I am going to marry her. I have to marry her. She would never let me out of the engagement, not when she has me exactly where she wants me.
She glanced up at him and gave a slow smile. “That means a great deal, your Grace.”
And then Miss Bainbridge reached them, face flushed from fast walking.
“What a surprise,” she wheezed. “Fancy stumbling upon you both here.”
Chapter Fourteen
Miss Bainbridge cornered the duke, as Lavinia had known she would. Anyway, they were almost at the tea-house.
Streams of people were approaching their meeting point, not just from their own party, but others, too. People talked and laughed and gestured, some hurrying towards the confectioneries, keen to eat. Lavinia found herself walking alone.
Miss Bainbridge, having slid her arm through the duke’s, hurried him ahead, so that it was just the two of them. Lavinia was left to fall behind, walking with Mr. and Mrs. Bainbridge. Of course,theydid not care to talk to her. They tossed their heads, bestowing frosty smiles on her, and talked quietly among themselves, excluding her from the conversation.
She tried not to care.
He’s a duke,she reminded herself.He’s not some nervous, gawky young man. If he wanted to talk to me, well, then, he would. He would. And he isn’t.
This was a more painful thought than she’d anticipated. Ducking her head, Lavinia concentrated instead on the paving stones beneath her feet.
At least heartbreak – if that is what this is, of which I’m not convinced – is not doing anything to my appetite. I’m absolutely starving.
On that note, somebody cleared their throat beside her. She glanced up to find a short, round-faced young man with round spectacles smiling hopefully at her.
“Miss, er, Miss Brookford, isn’t it?”
“Lord Langley,” she said, a little pleased at herself for remembering. Lord Ethan Langley was a single man with a half-decent title and a good fortune, with two left feet when it came to dancing and a surprising passion for music. He was about three and twenty, not particularly handsome, and had shown a great deal of interest in Gillian.
Lady Brennon wanted Gillian to look for “larger prizes”, as she put it, and there were certainly wealthier men than Lord Langley in the party.
