She sighed. “Very well, I’ll go. But I shall need Mrs. Curtis’s help getting ready.”
Her uncle smiled. “I’ll run downstairs and catch her before she leaves.”
As the eighto’clock hour approached, the duke’s carriage rolled around to pick them up. Her uncle was waiting for her by the front door, but he began to cough as she approached, not knowing whether to laugh or cringe. “Ailis, what in heaven’s name?”
“I have no idea what you mean,” she muttered, almost tripping as she stepped out the door and would have taken a tumble had her uncle not been in front of her to break her fall. It was these wretched spectacles she had borrowed from him, an old pair he had tossed in his bureau and not worn in ages.
“Ailis, why are you wearing my spectacles? And your hair…what have you done to it?”
She smiled brightly. “Do you like it? I thought I would try a new style.”
“Oh? It looks like two cats were caught in an alley fight atop your head. And your gown…”
“It is different, don’t you think?”
“It is hideous. My dear, what is going on?”
“You needn’t fear, Uncle Nigel. The duke will understand completely.” She climbed into the waiting carriage with his assistance and told him all about her promise to the duke’s mother that Jonas was determined to have her ignore. “He finessed us all by invitingyou, knowingyouwould in turn invite me. Is this not a despicable thing to do?”
“Well, he wishes to see you. I do not see how that is bad. Or perhaps he means to teach his mother a lesson, for she ought to have known better than to meddle and secure that promise from you. I wonder why she did it?”
“Because she does not want me around while those elegant ladies attempt to gain his attention.”
“But how would you distract him? Do you think the duke has developed an interest in you? He did take excellent care of you during the snowstorm. Or is it that he feels sorry for you because your arm is in a sling?”
“Probably the latter. You know what a private person he is. He does not like strangers being foisted on him, even if it is from his well-meaning mother.” She glanced out the window as the carriage made its way out of the village and toward Langford Hall. The roadway was a snowy expanse and slow going, since much of it had yet to melt, and the little that had melted left puddles and ruts that would damage a fast-rolling carriage wheel.
“I think he extended the invitation to both of us,” Ailis continued, “because we have known him for years and he feels comfortable around us.”
“But his mother wants his attention on the young ladies and not on you, is that it?”
“Quite so.”
“Is it likely? I understand she has brought along theton’smost beautiful debutantes. You are lovely, too. I do not mean to imply you are not. But these are England’s loveliest ladies, and…” Her uncle chuckled. “He will choke when he sees you in that hideous outfit and your hair—oh, Ailis—and that abomination you call a hat. What have you done?”
“Nothing that cannot be easily undone,” she assured him. “The duke needs to be taught a lesson.”
He arched an eyebrow. “I’m not sure what lesson this will teach him.”
“The point is, I should not be around him and his marriage prospects. He knows how I feel about this and has chosen to ignore my wishes. So, this is the Ailis he will get,” she said, glancing down at her attire and giving her hair a light pat.
It was a short distance to Langford Hall, and they arrived in little time.
Grimes stepped forward to assist her out of the carriage, took one look at her, and emitted a coughing laugh. “Miss Temple, don’t you look lovely tonight.”
“No, I do not,” she said, grinning at the kindly butler. “But thank you for your attempt at politeness.”
He cleared his throat. “Let me show you into the drawing room. All the other guests are gathered there.”
Grimes led the way as Ailis walked in on her uncle’s arm, needing to hold on to him or she would smack into walls, for these spectacles were making her eyes blur and giving her a monumental headache into the bargain.
Perhaps she ought to have left off those spectacles.
A big, dark blotch suddenly appeared before her as she entered the drawing room. She recognized the blotch as the duke by the familiar and delicious scent of him. “Good evening, Your Grace.”
It took him a moment to reply while he was struggling to restore his even breaths. Much like Grimes, he was choking back a laugh…or so she assumed, because she really could not see him clearly.
“Blessed saints, Temple.” He once again emitted a mix of groans and barely suppressed chuckles. “Is that a chicken sitting atop your head?”
