It was probably the story she’d been telling the locals over by his biscuit table.
“You do realize,” he said, “the effect having her as a cousin has on your reputation.”
Lady Gertrude nodded. “Everyone wishes they were me. Or Cynthia Louise.”
Alexander blinked. As far as a not-so-veiled reproof went, his rebuke had failed spectacularly.
“No,” he said. “The young ladies are here because they want to be aduchess.”
“Or,” said Lady Gertrude. “They want to be a duchess because they can’t be Cynthia Louise.”
The music stopped.
“Thank you for the waltz.” She dipped an exquisite curtsey. “I’m going to drink three glasses of wine and spend the rest of the night playing ball with my puppy.”
She was gone before Alexander could fathom a reply.
His sister Belle intercepted him on the edge of the dance floor. “Are you bored with your plan yet?”
“Not even a little bit,” he said. “I’m not even certain what just happened.”
He watched Miss Finch welcome her cousin into her circle with obvious delight and affection.
“Is that the one you’re after?” Belle asked.
Alexander cut his gaze to her in horror. “A duke wouldnever.”
“I think Lady Gertrude is perfectly nice,” Belle said. “Even Mother likes her.”
Lady Gertrude.
Right.
“Did you know she weighs eight stone and is middling at mathematics?” he enquired.
“Eight stone,” Belle murmured. “She should eat more biscuits.”
“She also adores tragic operas.”
“You hate tragic operas,” his sister replied. “And now you’ve made one. You should call the whole thing off, Vale. This Christmastide bride hunt is a farce.”
“A Duchess Derby, according to Miss Finch,” he muttered.
“She’s not wrong.” Belle placed a hand on her chest. “What if... No, hear me out.What if... you looked for love instead of societal perfection?”
“There’s no more foolish way to make a decision as important as marriage than to base it on one’s heart,” he snapped, then wished he hadn’t. “No offense meant.”
“All offense taken,” she assured him. “You’re disinvited to the wedding.”
“Then who will give you away?”
“Very well, you can attend. But I will be miffed at you the entire time for having suggested love is foolish.”
“Not for you,” he allowed. “You’re not a duke. I am.”
And now he had to make an even better match to counteract her choice.
The perceived quality of his bride would affect the entire family—Belle, whether she liked it or not, their mother, the next generation of children… He did not take such heavy responsibility lightly.
