Courtney poured her friend a cup of tea. “I gathered as much from your expression. You look like a cat that’s found the cream.”
“Oh, my dear, it’s far more delicious than cream.” Ashley accepted the cup with a conspiratorial smile. “I’ve just come from Farah’s, where I learned the most astonishing piece of information that simply couldn’t wait.”
Courtney’s heart skipped. “About Lockwood?” she asked, lowering her voice despite the empty house.
“No, though Rockwell is making progress there,” Ashley assured her. “This is about your Lucien and his quest to find the mysterious Kitty.”
“He’s found her already?” Courtney set down her cup with a small clatter. “But it’s barely nine in the morning. How could he possibly—”
“That’s just it,” Ashley interrupted, eyes dancing with mischief. “He didn’t have to search very far. It seems your Kitty, the woman who knew Ava in Dublin, is none other than the Duke of Blackstone’s mistress!”
Courtney laughed. “Mistresses are not unusual for men of his standing. He’s still young, about nine and twenty, isn’t he? Still sowing his wild oats. Except I’ve never known the duke to be wild about anything. He’s so staid and proper.”
“Exactly! That’s why I think Blackstone having a mistress is very amusing,” Ashley confirmed with obvious relish. “Our stern, proper, never-a-hair-out-of-place duke is keeping a former low-class lady of the night in a small but elegant house in Chelsea.”
Courtney couldn’t reconcile the image of the austere, imposing duke—known throughout society for his rigid adherence to propriety and his barely concealed disdain for scandal—with a man who would keep a former brothel worker as his mistress.
“There may be an innocent explanation,” she protested. “He may be trying to help her leave the profession.”
Ashley’s laugh tinkled through the room. “The very same man who once gave Julian a twenty-minute lecture on the impropriety of loosening his cravat at White’s after midnight, helping a lowly Irish prostitute. Not likely.”
“You dislike him. Or are you protesting too much?” Courtney shook her head in disbelief.
“Rubbish,” Ashley stuttered. “He’s a hypocrite. The same duke who refused to attend the Smythsons’ garden party because their daughter had been seen riding in an open carriage with her fiancé without a proper chaperone?” Ashley said, helping herself to a biscuit. “According to Rockwell, who seemed rather amused by the whole thing, Lucien called on His Grace at an ungodly hour this morning. After explaining the situation, the duke apparently went quite pale and admitted that Kitty has been under his protection since he met her at Cyprian’s masked ball.”
Courtney sat back. “Does Farah know? He was so strict with her.”
“She does now,” Ashley replied with a laugh. “You should have seen her face when Rockwell told us. I thought she might faint from the shock. She kept saying, ‘My brother? My Raven?’ as if there might be another Duke of Blackstone lurking about London.”
Courtney couldn’t help but join in her friend’s laughter, the absurdity of the situation momentarily distracting her from her own troubles. “The man who sits in judgment of us all has been the greatest hypocrite in London.”
“It does rather put his treatment of my family in a new light,” Ashley remarked, her smile dimming slightly. “He’s barely acknowledged my existence since my scandal broke three years ago. I really loathe the man.”
Courtney reached across to squeeze her friend’s hand. She couldn’t say anything because Ashley had never shared the details of her scandal with the sisterhood. “How insufferable. To think, he’s looked down his aristocratic nose at you all this time, while keeping a former brothel worker as his mistress.”
“In a very nice house in Chelsea, no less,” Ashley added with a rueful smile. “Apparently, he’s quite devoted to her. Rockwell says the duke has been teaching her to read and has engaged tutors to instruct her in proper speech and deportment.”
“Good heavens,” Courtney murmured. “It sounds as if he’s quite smitten.”
“Besotted, according to Rockwell.” Ashley’s eyes twinkled. “Can you imagine the Duke of Blackstone in love? The man whose expression never changes, even during the most scandalous on-dits at Almack’s?”
“The mind boggles,” Courtney agreed, trying to picture the stern duke’s face softening with affection. “Though I suppose itexplains why he’s refused every eligible young lady presented to him these past seasons.”
“Including Lady Harriet Pembroke, and she’s quite the diamond,” Ashley noted. “Her father was furious when the duke showed not the slightest interest.”
Courtney sipped her tea, contemplating this revelation. “I wonder what this Kitty is like, to have captured such a formidable heart.”
“Rockwell says she’s quite lovely—red-haired and vivacious—but more importantly, Lucien believes she’ll help us. Apparently, Mrs. Bellamy told Lucien that she feels terribly guilty about revealing Ava’s secret to Lockwood. She had no idea he intended to use the information for blackmail.”
“Will she testify against him if necessary?” Courtney asked, hope rising in her chest.
“That’s what Lucien and the duke have gone to determine.” Ashley gave her a reassuring smile. “Kitty seems eager to make amends. And with the duke’s support…”
“It seems almost too good to be true,” Courtney murmured. “Of course, Blackstone may not want this information made public. It would tarnish his image.”
Ashley nearly choked on her tea with laughter. “Can you imagine? The look on Lady Jersey’s face alone would be worth the scandal of revealing the information.”
“I loathe scandal, but after his treatment of you and Farah, he does need taking down a peg or two,” Courtney added, warming to the jest. “Plus, it might distract him from our investment challenge. I really want Tiffany to beat him.”
