“You are a fool,” the Dowager Duchess chided, entering Hugo’s study without a knock.
Hugo sighed, not looking up. “What is it now, Grandmother?”
“You are throwing away your happiness,” she said, her voice soft. “And what is worse, you are throwing away hers. I know what you went through. Perhaps not the whole of it, but I know enough.”
“Grandmother, I cannot?—”
“Do not interrupt me, Hugo. You will let me speak!”
“Yes, Grandmother,” he said, still not looking up.
“While I was unconvinced of this young lady’s merit before, you could do far worse. I must say—confidentially, of course—I almost like her.”
“That is high praise, coming from you.”
“I mean it.”
“Grandmother, enough,” Hugo whispered.
“I know the pain your past has caused you, but do not let a ghost dictate your life. For once, choose happiness instead of duty. You deserve that much, Hugo. I would very much like to see that before I grow too old to see it for myself.”
Hugo finally looked up, his expression a wall of stone. “I cannot do that, Grandmother. Duty is my only purpose.” He gestured to the pile of papers on his desk. “It is all I have ever had.”
“And what a sad truth that is,” the Dowager Duchess said, before walking out.
Chapter Twenty-Five
“What do you think we can expect of thisunique occasion?” Lady Harcourt whispered to Lady Marchant as they walked into Arrowfell House arm-in-arm, just within Elspeth’s earshot.
“Disaster. Most certainly,” Lady Marchant responded, fluttering her ornate feather fan. “I can already tell it is going to be insufferably hot in here.”
“I can assure ye both that we have ice sculptures positioned throughout the party and excellent air circulation,” Elspeth said with a deep curtsey. “Ye will be perfectly comfortable at Arrowfell. Welcome, Lady Harcourt, Lady Marchant.”
“Oh,” Lady Harcourt said with a sharp inhale. “That is mostaccommodatingof you, Lady Inverhall. Thank you for having us. I trust we will have a most diverting evening!”
“The pleasure is mine,” Elspeth returned with a genuine smile. “Mineandthe lads’, of course. I cannae wait for ye to learn about the children of St. Jude’s Orphanage. They will be most grateful for yer support this evenin’.”
“I am sure of it, Lady Inverhall.” Lady Marchant nodded. “Poor souls. You, though, I must say, well, you look lovely. Have you done something different with your appearance? You look radiant.”
“Thank ye,” Elspeth said, motioning for them to enter. “It must be the dress. I had it designed especially for the occasion. Now, the footmen will see ye escorted to the party and that you receive chilled champagne.”
“How lovely,” the ladies said in unison as they walked in, wide smiles on their faces.
Elspeth crossed to the large, gilded mirror in the foyer. She looked at herself for a moment, turning this way and that. She had a gown made by a new, young dressmaker in the city, and in her favorite hue. It was a green to rival the hills of Inverhall, the sparkle in her eyes. It fit her perfectly at the bodice, flowing out into swathes of lush, organza at her heels. She had her hair pulled up in an elegant, braided crown, with baby’s breath laced throughout it.
Lady Marchant is right. I do look lovely.
Soon, the rest of the ton descended upon Arrowfell House, like a flock of expectant vultures in a rush to see the latest spectacle.Their collective curiosity was a palpable thing that made sweat bead on her brow.
She knew well enough that they had come not to give to charity, but to witness a scene. She could only imagine the grand disaster they were sure would befall the Duke of Arrowfell and theuntouched widow.
However, she was determined to prove them wrong and had gone to great lengths to ensure that everything went according to plan.
Everythin’ must go accordin’ to plan.
“Well, let us see what fresh hell will happen here,” Lord Arondon said, grabbing a flute of champagne from a passing tray. “Most informal, the way they have arranged the tables in here. I also heard there will be children in attendance. Most unusual.”
“Yes, there will be!” Lady Featherstone affirmed with a shrill laugh. “Lady Inverhall is a creative lassie!”
