“Well, he ought to have done,” Sebastian replied. “Or at least, if he was going to attempt to take advantage of you, he ought to have offered you marriage.”
“I would never have wanted to accept.”
“I wouldn’t have wanted you to either.” He shot her a sharp glance. Imagining her as the wife of that brute made him feelsomewhat sick inside. “But the fact remains that the man is a pathetic snivelling opportunist, and his aunt ought to feel it.”
She squeezed his arm. “Thank you for defending me.”
He wished they had never come. Being the center of attention had never been his favorite thing, but especially not now. A few others approached them, cozying up to him and Aurelia as though they were longstanding friends rather than mere acquaintances.
Aurelia knew even fewer of them. She kept her chin up, smiling prettily, and Sebastian reflected that at least the world would now know that he had a beautiful wife. That would not, in their eyes, make up for her lack of birth, but it was something.
If she had beenplain, as he’d originally hoped, this would all be entirely different.
Still, as the musicians finally filed onto the stage in preparation to play, the only thing Sebastian knew with any certainty was that this appearance had been a mistake.
CHAPTER TWENTY-SEVEN
Aurelia did her best to focus on the playing, not the many eyes glued to her. In this recital hall, she had expected to feel nearly invisible, but now that felt like a foolish, naïve imagining. What new duchess, during her first Society appearance—her first proper Society appearanceever, would not be an object of curiosity?
And Sebastian, too. The duke, who had remarried without so much as venturing a foot into London.
If anything, Sebastian seemed to feel the burden of the attention even more than she did, his arm stiff against hers, and his eyes hard. She knew that he was not the man his reputation claimed him to be, but watching him now, she could almost believe it. There was a simmering violence in him, a sense that if someone pushed too hard, he might explode into fury.
Coming here had most definitely been a mistake.
The music wound around them.Bach, fast and impatient. Ordinarily, she would have been charmed and delighted—it was an experience she would never have had living at home—but she could not escape the pressure of the eyes on her.
This was nothing like the masquerade.
At long last, the interval came, and the musicians bowed, filing back through a side door and away. Footmen appeared with refreshments on trays, and many members of the audience rose, stretching their legs.
Two young ladies placed themselves beside Aurelia, their hair perfectly curled and their dresses exquisitely cut. Looking at them, she was immediately certain that they were the leaders of this year’s debutantes. They had that snide, sharp edge to them.
Sebastian’s attention was snagged elsewhere, and Aurelia had nothing more she could do but smile at the new arrivals. They smiled back, but there was nothing charming about the expressions.
“We simplyhadto come and introduce ourselves, Your Grace,” the first chirped, ignoring the fact that it was improper for them to introduce themselves, especially to a duchess, without a mutual acquaintance introducing them first. Evidently, they did not feel as though she deserved that honor. “After all, you are the most exciting thing to happen inmonths.”
That did not sound like a compliment.
“This isMiss Davenport,” the second girl chimed, gesturing to the first. She had dark hair and stunningly blue eyes; the first had blonde hair and hazel eyes. “I amMiss Peterson.”
“Miss Peterson is engaged to the Marquess of Litchfield,” Miss Davenport said with a false giggle. “And I am engaged to the future Duke of Chelmsford. So you see, we are almost your equals.”
By the look in her eyes, she considered them both far above Aurelia’s equals.
Aurelia forced a smile. “Then I’m sure it is an honor to meet you both.”
“Tell me—for I have beenso verycurious—how did you meet the Duke of Ravenhall?” Miss Davenport giggled again, but the humor didn’t reach her eyes. “I’ve heard somedreadfulthings, but of course they must not be true.”
“If theywere,” Miss Peterson said with a simper, “I simply couldnotimagine a lady of good breeding entering into a marriage with him.”
“Of course, he is a duke.” Miss Davenport paused for effect, holding up a single finger. “So I suppose there is a reasoning there.”
“AndI have heard he owns a great deal of land,” Miss Peterson added her own finger.
“Precisely. So, truly, that would be understandable if you were to stoop down to marry him despite his reputation.”
Aurelia clasped her hands so tightly together in her lap that her knuckles turned white. She feigned a smile. “And what reputation is that?”
