“My Grandmother’s Hunt doesn’t help either. It’s just a shooting ground for them.”
Miss Waldron nodded firmly. “I’m convinced that your grandmother is trying to marry us all off before the Season even begins properly.”
Deena laughed softly and looked across the garden; this time, Austin was already looking at her.
“Speaking of the Hunt…” Miss Waldron said slowly. “I hear you’ve been spending a great deal of time with the Duke of Windemere.”
Deena’s cheeks warmed. “We’ve… talked.”
“As we have all witnessed,” Miss Waldron chirped. “All the ladies simply cannot get over your three-minute extension.”
Deena rolled her eyes. “It was only a conversation.”
“Mm. And I’m only here for the fresh air.” Miss Waldron’s tone turned conspiratorial. “But truly…how foolish men are. They strut about like peacocks, convinced a title and a pretty face are all that’s required. Meanwhile, we’re expected to swoon at the sight of them.”
Deena could not help but laugh. “Exactly. They think a well-turned calf and a bit of charm will win us over forever.”
“Forever?” Miss Waldron snorted. “Most of them can’t even manage a week without flirting with the next pretty smile.”
Deena looked at Austin and all the ladies surrounding him. “You are absolutely correct, Miss Waldron.”
Miss Waldron was studying her when Deena looked back at her. “If you want my honest opinion…don’t bother with the Velvet Duke,” she said quietly.
Deena was startled. “Pardon?”
“The Duke of Windemere.” Miss Waldron’s voice was matter-of-fact. “He’s beautiful, I’ll give him that. And charming. But he’s a heartbreaker. Everyone knows it.”
Deena felt a small, sharp pang. “I’m aware of his reputation.”
“Are you aware of the rest?” Miss Waldron lowered her voice.
“The rest of what?”
“Since you’re his best friend’s sister, I assume you know that his title hangs by a thread.”
Deena’s breath caught, and Miss Waldron’s eyes widened. “Oh, dear, you didn’t know?”
“No, I did not know that at all. What do you mean?” Deena urged her.
Miss Waldron glanced around, ensuring no one was near enough to overhear. “It’s just whispers. Nothing certain. But there is talk that he may not be the legitimate heir. That the late duke’s wife… may have had an affair before their marriage.”
Deena’s heart thudded hard. “But there’s no proof?”
“Not yet.” Miss Waldron shrugged. “Proof or not, the rumor alone is enough to make certain families hesitate. A duke with a questionable claim is a risky prize.”
Deena’s mind raced. Did her blackmailer want proof of Austin’s illegitimacy? And if so, why did he choose her specifically?She was locked away in Paris with no clue about the issues of London’s society.
Why did he not simply publish the rumor himself?
Before her mind could spiral even further, her Grandmother’s voice rang out, saving her from panic.
“Ladies and gentlemen!” The dowager stood on her small dais again, cane raised like a scepter. “I have been far too lenient with the gentlemen this year. They have been let off the hook with mere conversation and a few charming smiles. But it is my firm opinion that men ought to try harder, much harder, if they wish to win a lady’s heart or hand.”
Murmurs of agreement and laughter rippled through the crowd.
“So!” the dowager continued, eyes gleaming. “This afternoon’s game is for them.”
“What do you suppose the game will be?” Miss Waldron asked sarcastically.
