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“A dear friend of mine,” Elizabeth replied. “And you can meet her soon. Once we are done with the fittings, we will have a few lessons on comportment. And I must hire a dancing instructor.”

Lucy and Ellie looked at each other, then shrugged. “Comportment?”

“Manners,” Elizabeth replied with a sigh. This might just be more difficult than she imagined.

Lucy snickered. “She sounds like Abigail with her fine manners and stiff posture.”

“Abigail who?” Elizabeth asked, hoping this was the same Abigail who William regarded with affection.

Ellie shook her head. “Abigail Mason. Will actually thinks he’s in love with her.”

“And you don’t?” Elizabeth prompted.

“No,” Ellie and Lucy answered at the same time.

Elizabeth waited for the dressmaker to leave before she asked more questions. “So why don’t you think your brother is in love with this Abigail Mason?”

Lucy flopped on the bed. “She is a horrible person. He can’t possibly be in love with her. All she cares about is position and money.”

“He has all that now. So why didn’t she marry him before he came over to England?”

“Neither of us could figure that out, either,” Ellie said. “I never understood what he saw in her. She seemed very…well, selfish. Maybe she’s changed over the past five years, but I doubt a person can change that much.”

Elizabeth frowned. None of this made any sense. “Do you think Will really loves her?”

Lucy laughed. “My brother is a fool when it comes to women. He thinks because she comes from a good American family that she must be the epitome of a wife.”

“So it’s her name and connections,” Elizabeth whispered.

“Yes,” Ellie said, nodding her head.

A name was more important to him than true love.

A name.

Something she didn’t even have.

Chapter 7

Richard followed his wife into their home on Cavendish Street. Caroline stormed into the hallway and threw her reticule on the floor. The ride from the duke’s house had only served to increase her anger.

“There has to be something we can do!” she shouted.

Richard picked up the small purse and handed it to a maid. He followed his irate wife into the small salon. “I’m afraid there is nothing we can do.”

“You saw the way he was looking at Elizabeth. And she called him by his Christian name! He probably has plans to marry her and have a passel of children like his father.”

Richard took a seat and leaned his head back. Why did he think a younger woman would be a good thing? She was driving him mad, and further into debt.

“Caroline, he is the duke. As long as he is alive, I shall only be a baron. You must accept that.”

“My—our children deserve better than that. Of course, you are now the heir presumptive. If something should happen to befall the new duke before he has children…”

Richard tilted his head back up and stared at his wife. “Do not even think it, Caroline.”

His wife cackled. “I most certainly was not thinking of murdering him.”

“Then what exactly are you thinking of?”

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