“Both are quite breathtaking,” Monty said. His overly appreciative tone made Elias consider elbowing him in the ribs. Hard.
Elias turned and set his drink on the wall’s narrow ledge running waist-high around the room. “Her Grace is my client. I believe I shall go over and greet her.”
Celia turned and spotted him before he reached her. His precious lioness looked poised to flee. A bright rosiness flared across her cheeks and panic flashed in her pale green eyes. It didn’t escape his notice that her mother latched on to her arm to prevent her from stepping away.
“Your Grace,” he said to the dowager with a heartfelt smile and a bow. “You braved the weather. I do hope that means thegooddays are outnumbering the bad.”
Her resulting smile seemed genuine, filling him with relief. “I love the rain,” she said, “and it is quite good to see you again, Lord Raines.”
The weariness in her tone concerned him. He feared the lady pushed herself too hard. “Thank you, Your Grace.” He cut a sharp look at Celia, then gentled it back at the duchess. “I worried you might never wish to see me again.”
The dowager’s smile turned sad. “As I said, it is quite good to see you.”
Celia jutted her chin higher, and although she remained silent, the delicate fronds of the plumage arranged in her hair quivered with her trembling.
Elias offered her a bow. “And it is lovely to see you again,Miss Bening.”
She returned a curtsy. “Lord Raines.”
As Monty joined them, Elias stepped to one side and inclined his head toward his brother. “Allow me to present my brother, His Grace, the fourth Duke of Almsbury. Monty, this is Her Grace, the dowager Duchess of Hasterton, and her companion, Miss Celia Bening.”
Celia curtsied deeply. The duchess held tightly to her cane and gave a nod. “Forgive me, Your Grace. I fear my days of managing a curtsy are long behind me.”
Monty gracefully accepted the apology by bowing to them both. “It is an honor to meet you, Your Grace. And you as well, Miss Bening.” With a sly smile directed at Celia, he added, “Elias has told me a great deal about you.”
The feather in Celia’s hair quivered more noticeably. She turned to the duchess. “Shall we get you seated, Your Grace? Standing so long can be quite wearying for you.”
“Allow me,” Elias said before Duchess Thea could answer. He stepped in and offered his arm. As she took it, he leaned down and whispered, “I am trying to keep my oath to you, Your Grace. Any assistance you could offer would be most appreciated.”
She gave him a sad smile. “I fear that must be Celia’s choice.” With the slightest shake of her head, she added, “I wish it was mine to make for her.”
As he led her to a chair, he allowed himself a heavy sigh. “I am quite stubborn, Your Grace. This is not over until I decide it is.”
The duchess folded her hands in her lap and avoided looking him in the eyes. “Good luck to you, Lord Raines. I pray that I live to see you prosper in this endeavor.” Then she stared straight ahead, as though dismissing him.
Lady Sophie stepped in to block his way as he turned to go to Celia. “She still saysno,” she whispered, with a sympathetic wrinkling of her nose. “Go away.”
“I do not wish to be rude,” he said with a smile to throw off anyone observing them. “But you would be well advised to step aside, Lady Sophie. Celia will be mine.”
The lady made a face, then moved around him as though she wished to greet another guest who had just arrived.
As Lady Ardsmere blocked his way and opened her mouth to speak, he gave her a warning glare and slightly shook his head.
She closed her mouth, stuck her nose high in the air, and joined her mother-in-law at the dowager duchess’s side.
Celia edged a step back, glancing all around as if trying to decide the best direction in which to flee.
“Might I have a word, Miss Bening?” he said in the politest tone he could manage.
“I should see to Her Grace, my lord. Perhaps after dinner?” She sidled to the left, smiling and nodding as more guests poured into the room.
“Her Grace is quite comfortable.” He effectively herded Celia to the right until they reached a slightly secluded area beside the windows. It was suitable for a quiet conversation, yet still open enough to the other guests to be considered appropriate. “Did you inform Her Grace that you refused to marry the man who adores you—the man you shared yourself with, I might add?”
She pressed her mouth into a hard line and glared at him.
“Shall I take that as ayes?”
“Take it however you wish,” she said coldly. “As I told you before, it is for the best.” She glanced away and pressed her gloved fist to her mouth. After a quick sniff and a visible swallow, she gave him a look that melted him. “I do this because I love you,” she said softly. “Please trust me.”
