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Her mother blathered on welcoming Lady Bolton and then ordering tea. Lady Bolton eased her large frame into the chair Louisa’s mother had vacated. The poor chair protested with a loud creak as the viscountess sat. “Dreadful day outside. At least you have a warm fire for me.”

After ordering the tea, her mother returned to the room and sat on the sofa away from them both as if an outsider in her salon. “It is lovely to see you again.”

Lady Bolton turned her lip up. “I believe you already know why I am here. I have made no pretense that my George is marrying beneath himself. It wasn’t bad enough that you had the issue of your eldest daughter’s husbands, but now your second daughter was observed returning from the gardens during Lady Leicester’s ball followed quickly behind by the son of the man who killed your eldest daughter’s husbands. It is preposterous!”

“My lady,” Louisa started gently. “I have to agree that it is preposterous. Who would believe such an outlandish story? I went out for a breath of air on the terrace because I felt faint. The gracious duke, who by the by, is nothing like his father, noticed I had left and followed me outside to make certain I stayed safe. He has always been quite the gentleman. There was nothing more to the story than that. I fear I may be ruined for attempting not to faint in the middle of a ballroom.”

Lady Bolton stared at her long and hard. “I am not sure why, but I do believe you, Miss Drake.”

“It’s the absurdity of the matter, my lady. Who would believe that the duke would be kind to one of the Drakes after all that has happened? But he is the epitome of compassion. The duke was most sympathetic to my companion Mrs. Fitzhugh when she fell ill while traveling. His Grace allowed us to stay with him for three days until she was well enough to travel again. Is he not just the kindest of men?”

“I see,” Lady Bolton replied before pursing her lips. “I suppose it is far too impossible to believe he had an interest in you.”

Louisa clenched her jaw to keep from retorting to the bitter lady. “I suppose you are correct, my lady. I am all but a spinster.”

“Very well, the matter is settled in my mind. Now, where is Miss Emma this morning?” Lady Bolton asked in a cold tone. “She should have greeted her future mother-in-law.”

“She had a headache this morning and returned to her bed,” Mamma replied quickly before adding, “Would you like me to fetch her?”

Lady Bolton shook her head. “I shall be gone before she dresses.”

“Lady Bolton, if I may, have you and your son decided on a date for the wedding?” Mamma asked softly.

“There is no hurry, Mrs. Drake. I should think you would want them to become better acquainted.”

“Yes, of course, but Emma is quite eager to become—”

“A bride,” Louisa interjected before her mother said something to insult the viscountess.

“Yes, a bride,” Mamma repeated, nodding her head.

“Before the Season is over, I suppose,” Lady Bolton said with a resigned sigh before standing. “I shall take my leave now.”

“You don’t wish to stay for tea?” Mamma begged.

“No, thank you, Mrs. Drake.” She started to walk across the room before stopping and looking back at Louisa. “And please control your daughter’s behavior before she causes a scandal from which you cannot recover.”

“Of course, ma’am,” Mamma said with a glare to Louisa. “Lord Collingwood danced two sets with her last evening. I am quite certain she will be far more circumspect now.”

Louisa barely contained her eye roll.

Once Lady Bolton departed, her mother turned on her. “You are not to see or dance with the duke again. I will not risk your sister’s marriage over your folly with that man. I forbid it.”

“Forbid it?” Louisa asked incredulously. “I am five and twenty, Mamma. I will see my friend Harry and even dance with him should he ask.”

Louisa stormed out of the room and decided to check on Emma. As Louisa strode through the hall, a footman closed the door with a post in his hand.

“Miss, this just came for you.”

She took the note from his outstretched hand and smiled, seeing the handwriting. “Thank you, John.”

Racing upstairs to Emma, Louisa wondered what he might have to say this morning. Perhaps her attempts to make him jealous worked.

“How are you, dear?” Louisa quietly asked as she peeked inside Emma’s darkened room.

“Much better now. I think the coffee and toast helped.” Emma sat up and looked over at her. “Didn’t you send him the note yet?”

“This is his reply.”

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