“Mm.” The dowager’s brow arched elegantly. “No crest, no frank. Secretive. An admirer, perhaps? How very promising.”
Deena forced a light laugh that sounded brittle even to her own ears. “Hardly. Probably just estate business.”
The dowager patted her arm. “Open it, child. I am dying of curiosity.”
With the footman still hovering and her grandmother watching expectantly, Deena had little choice. She broke the plain seal, unfolding the single sheet with deliberate calm.
The message was brief, scrawled in the same bold, slanted hand as the first:
Progress, Lady Deena? You have one week remaining. Expose the Velvet Duke’s secrets, or I expose yours and your friend’s. Time runs short.
Ice slid through her veins.
One week?The noose has been tightened.
The dowager peered over her shoulder. “Well? What does it say?”
Deena folded the note quickly, tucking it into her reticule. “Nothing of importance. A reminder about… French lessons I had arranged.”
The dowager’s eyes narrowed, but her tone remained playful. “French lessons. How diligent of you.”
Deena met her grandmother’s gaze, willing her expression to remain serene. “I did promise to keep up my studies.”
“Indeed.” The dowager tapped her fan thoughtfully against her palm. “Though I suspect your studies this week will be of a rather different nature.”
Deena’s smile felt brittle. “Perhaps.”
The dowager linked their arms again, steering her back towards the ballroom. “Come along, then. We have a waltz to arrange. And I’ve a feeling your dance card is about to become very full indeed.”
Deena allowed herself to be led, the threatening words burning in her reticule like a live coal.
One week.
She only had a week to save herself and her friend’s reputation from their blackmailer.
“Did that letter contain unwelcome news, darling?”
“No, only…” Deena swallowed. “Grandmother, do you happen to know who the Velvet Duke is? And where might I find him this evening?”
The dowager threw back her head and laughed a rich, delighted sound that turned several heads in the nearby doorway.
“Oh, my dear girl! I did not expect you to fall victim tohischarms quite so quickly. I’m afraid that you must get in line because half the ladies here are already queuing.”
Deena blinked. “I don’t understand.”
“Well, haven’t you heard?”
“Heard what?”
“The Velvet Duke has just declared, quite publicly, that he is at last ready to take a wife,” the dowager said, eyes gleaming with satisfaction as she leaned closer. “And half the ladies in England are already sharpening their claws for him, my dear.”
Deena forced a mild smile, though her pulse still hammered from the library encounter and the threatening note burned in her reticule.
“I assume this is why you’re asking for him?”
“No—I mean yes, Grandmother, but I mostly wanted to know who is he?”
The dowager turned to her fully, silver brows arching in genuine bewilderment.
