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“I don’t know. I’ve heard she had several offers, but her family probably thought them not worthy enough,” she answered thoughtfully.
“And they’d think me worthy?” John raised an eyebrow at his friend.
Julie grimaced in thought. “Perhaps not. All right, I have the best pick for you right here,” she said and gestured for John to turn. “There’s Evie. You remember her, don’t you?”
“Evie?” John turned in the direction Julie was pointing. “I don’t believe I know an Evie,” he added thoughtfully.
Then he saw the young lady in question. She was beautiful, with vibrant red hair and a bright smile. She was surrounded by a group of young gentlemen, all vying for her attention, while she spoke and laughed, regarding everyone with the same amount of attention, turning this way and that. John didn’t remember the last time he’d exuded so much energy.
“She’s my cousin. I was certain you would remember her. But it was quite a while ago when you last saw her and she would have been but a child. She is the granddaughter of the late Duke of Somerset. And the current Duchess of Somerset in her own right.”
John turned to Julie with a questioning look. Titled ladies in their own right were a rare occurrence, to say the least.
“One of those rare titles with a clause to allow females to inherit,” she explained. “Still, she won’t be able to sit in the House of Lords; her husband will get that privilege. Neither does she have access to her full inheritance yet.”
“A duchess.” John turned back and looked at the lady in question with a frown. He didn’t remember the girl, but then again, as Julie pointed out, she would have been a babe when he saw her last.
“She will be granted the full power upon turning five and twenty, or upon marriage. Until then, her guardian, a distant cousin, Lord Montbrook, is running her affairs. But her inheritance is quite a hefty one, including horses, capital, and seven estates,” Julie went on while he studied the young lady’s form. “More importantly, she is vivacious. I think she would be very good for you.”
“But she wants to marry for love. Or so she said about a thousand times,” Clydesdale interjected. “She is a romantic, from a loving family, spoiled by her grandfather. She needs a gentle hand, a coddling husband.Not a soldier.”
John was looking at the radiant duchess, surrounded by an army of suitors. Clydesdale was probably right. He would be the worst possible match for a dreamy young girl. But he didn’t much care. He needed a wife, and soon. A lady with a large dowry accompanied by her own estates? She would be perfect for John. Even if it made him a cad.
“I think I’ve made my choice.” John turned back to Julie.
“Which is?”
“The duchess,” John said, smiling at Clydesdale.
