Joanna looked at the card, which had been abandoned on the table. She picked it up to scan the words. “You are to have tea with the Duke of Blackwell tomorrow?”
Penelope groaned. “It’s adate!I don’t want a date! They lead to an engagement, which leads to marriage, and I am not ready for marriage!” A nervous laugh escaped her. “Can you imagine me as a wife and mother? I mean, sure, eventually I shall marry. But why does it have to happen now? Especially to a man like him?”
“What’s wrong with the Duke of Blackwell?” Joanna was perplexed.
“You mean the Duke of Ice? That’s what the gossip columns are calling him these days. The man is terrifying. He is probably not even capable of smiling.”
“Have you ever met him?” Joanna certainly had not had the pleasure-or displeasure-of meeting the man. But after her first and only Season, three years ago, Joanna didn’t spend any time out in society.
“No, I haven’t met him and I don’t want to.” She shuddered. “He’s a horrid man. It’s rumored that he obliterated a bakery last year because they gave him the wrong sort of scones. Not to mention all of that unpleasant business with the Baron of Boxton. He ruined the man for publicly disagreeing with him on the Parliament floor. I cannot do this. I cannot meet him.”
“Calm down, Penelope. Perhaps a solution can be found.”
“You are right, but what could I do?” She turned to Joanna suddenly. There was a wild look in her eye. “Oh, I know! You should meet him!”
After that, Joanna was quite sure that her friend had lost her mind. She stood up and put her hands on Penelope’s shoulders. “In case you didn’t notice, that invitation was for you, not me. A duke would certainly not be interested in the likes of me, and you know this. Besides, if he’s as horrible as you say, then why would I want to meet him?” Her family was vulnerable enough without her angering a vindictive duke.
“Can’t you see? You will go there as me! It will be perfect. No one will recognize you because you haven’t been active in society for so long. And you can repulse him.”
Joanna smirked. “You truly flatter me.”
Penelope rolled her eyes. “Obviously, you are lovely and charming when you are being yourself. But this time, you need to pretend to be me, but worse! Make sure he never shows interest in me again. Be nasty and vulgar. Spill tea on him. Or on yourself!”
“I will certainly not spill tea on myself.” She only had so many nice dresses to wear, and she could not afford to be careless like that.
“Please, Joanna. I cannot face him.” Penelope’s eyes were wide and pleading. “I know my parents want me to marry, but I am not ready for it. Especially not to someone who doesn’t know how to smile. Just go in my stead. He doesn’t know what I look like, and no one will recognize you. I will give you some of my old dresses. I-I will even pay for Aurelia’s debut dress.”
Joanna froze. “Truly?”
“Yes! I promise. I probably would have done it anyway.”
Penelope had been very generous with Joanna ever since news of the viscount’s gambling debts became public. She gifted her friend with old dresses, jewelry, and other finery. So Joanna knew she was telling the truth about paying for Aurelia’s debut dress. With Penelope’s help, Aurelia could look as stunning as all the other debutantes. Sure, people would still whisper about her behind her back because of their father’s debts, but they would not be able to mock her for her gown. For at least one night, her sister would not have to feel the weight of their financial hardships. Not only that, but perhaps she could catch the eye of a potential suitor.
Joanna nodded, determination filling her. “All right. I will do it.”
Penelope smiled with relief. “Thank you, Joanna. I promise you will not regret it.” She pulled her friend into a hug.
Joanna smiled and did her best to focus on how happy Penelope was now, and how Aurelia would look gorgeous in a proper debut ball gown, instead of how she had to go and make a fool of herself in front of the Duke of Ice.
Early in the morning, Joanna watched from the window as a carriage pulled up in front of Clifford Manor, and Penelope got out along with her maid, Lydia.
Joanna greeted them at the door. “Good morning,” she said. “My parents are still asleep, so we must be quiet.” Clifford Manor no longer employed household staff to gossip about this early morning visit. They had one gardener and a part-time housekeeper who currently had the day off. That was all they could afford to keep the house in order.
“I cannot thank you enough for this, Joanna,” Penelope said. “Lydia will help you get ready. I brought some of my old dresses for you. We can get them altered to better fit you later, but at least one of them will do for today.”
The three women hurried up to Joanna’s bedroom, which was quite barren. Most of the comforts in the house had been sold off, and all that remained was a simple wardrobe, a bed covered with linen bedding, and a small vanity that also served as a writing desk. Neither Penelope nor Lydia commented on the plainness of the room, luckily.
It had been a long time since Joanna had a personal maid to help her get dressed and do her hair and she was grateful for Lydia’s help. Lydia was a kind, elderly woman who had practically raised Penelope while constantly doting on her. She would undoubtedly act as a chaperone during the date with the duke and would not tell the earl or his wife which lady she actually chaperoned during the date.
Lydia helped her into a light green afternoon dress before doing her hair into a beautiful updo and then helping with the powder on her face. When she was finished, Joanna looked at herself in the mirror and she smiled. She looked like a proper lady again. Her face and her waist were thinner than she would have liked due to not having enough food, but besides that, she might as well have been staring into the face of her eighteen-year-old self, coming home from finishing school to have her first Season in London. Before she knew about the mess that her father had gotten their family into.
“You are so beautiful, Joanna,” Penelope said. “I would kill for dark curls like yours.”
Joanna smiled. Her black hair and dark brown eyes only made her pale skin look even paler. The powder covered up the freckles that seemed to dot her nose, no matter how careful she was to stay out of the sun. “You want my hair? Instead of your own golden locks?”
“Absolutely. Your hair and eyes are striking and memorable in a good way. My face and hair make me blend into theton.”
Joanna doubted that. Penelope was exceptionally pretty, in her opinion. But she appreciated the compliments, which bolstered her courage. She would need as much courage as possible for what she was going to do. “All right,” she said. “I suppose it’s time to break a duke’s heart.”
