Page 73 of The Wedding-Crashing Duchess

“What?”

“I am looking forward to it enormously.”

Ronan knew immediately that the statement was not about the ball.

“I am sure you are,” he said coldly.

Gregory grinned and left. Ronan remained standing beside his chair as the door closed behind his friend.

He could hear Gregory exchanging some cheerful remark with the footman outside. Then his footsteps receded.

At last.

Ronan exhaled.

When he turned back, Augusta was watching him.

“What?”

“Nothing. It was nice this evening, though.” Augusta smiled and reached for her wineglass. “I liked him.”

“I noticed.”

The words came out more sharply than Ronan intended, and he immediately regretted his tone.

“I meant,” he continued, forcing his voice back into something more neutral, “Gregory makes himself easy to like.”

“I can see why. He is very charming.”

Ronan looked at her. Augusta took a sip of wine, apparently unaware that she had said anything remarkable. The room felt different without Gregory in it.

During dinner, Gregory had filled every gap in conversation before it had time to become uncomfortable. Now that he was gone, the silence between Ronan and Augusta seemed suddenly more noticeable.

Augusta broke the silence first. “I shall need to go into town tomorrow.”

Ronan looked toward her. “For what?”

“Shopping.”

He waited for more.

When she merely looked back at him, he realized that perhaps she expected a response.

“What do you need?”

“A few things for the ball, mostly. I have dresses, obviously, but Temperance insists that none of them will do. Apparently marriage has transformed me so completely that every gown I owned beforehand has become unsuitable.”

Ronan frowned. “Why?”

Augusta smiled. “Because I am a duchess now. Apparently there are degrees of being well dressed, and mine has changed.”

“Why do you care?” The question came out with genuine curiosity rather than criticism.

Augusta considered him for a moment. “You truly do not understand it, do you? Caring about what society thinks.”

“Not particularly. I have never been fussed about things of that sort. You know that about me.”

She looked almost fascinated by that. “You have a title older than half the families in London. You can afford not to care. People may call you rude or reclusive, but they will still invite you everywhere because you are the Duke of Ravenhill. A woman has less freedom. Everything about us is observed.”