Her Grace, Anabelle Cavendish, Dowager Duchess of Stonevale, surveyed her with a gleam in her sharp green eyes and a small smile on her lips as she casually snapped her fan shut. Whenshe turned her regal head toward Grandmama, her smile curled even deeper.
“I had thought that I would never see you again, Honoria, as busy as you are with the upbringing of your grandchildren.” The Dowager Duchess smiled mockingly. “I must congratulate your efforts, though, for the most impeccable way in which you have brought up your grandson. Baron Hawthorne… is truly a paragon that all gentlemen can only aspire to emulate.”
If there was anything Grandmama could not abide by, it was any disparaging remark about Kit. Even the slightest whiff of criticism was enough to rile her up to take up the cudgels in his defense.
“Why,Your Grace,” Grandmama blustered, her voice dripping with contempt for the Dowager Duchess’s address. “My Kit might have his shortcomings, but at least he does not go around ruining young ladies simply for revenge!”
“Oh?” The Dowager Duchess quirked an eyebrow in a manner that was quite similar to her grandson. “So, youdoadmit that your grandson deserves some form of retribution!”
Grandmama’s countenance took on a shade Juliana had never seen before. Triumphant, the Dowager Duchess was only too eager to drive the dagger in and twist it.
“At leastmyCassian is honorable enough tomarrythem, which is more than I can say for your deplorable grandson.” She shook her head with mock despondency. “Perhaps the Baron’s apple truly does not fall far fromyourtree.”
A sound of barely concealed indignation gurgled from Grandmama. “Your grandson?” she spat. “Your illustrious grandson who spends his time gallivanting about, rousingtrouble in his wake?”
Lady Stonevale laughed coldly. “Because he has the funds to do so, my dear. Unfortunately, the same cannot be said for Lord Hawthorne, can it?”
As much as the truth stung, it was still, quite tragically, the truth.
Grandmama was going to lose this battle, and Juliana had no appetite to stay and watch the spectacle the two dowagers were making at the wedding breakfast.
“I am afraid that the venison does not quite sit well with me,” she mumbled, before making a hasty departure.
She doubted the two women heard her, though.
“A toast to our friend, and may he find the connubial bliss he has long been trying to evade!”
Cassian glowered at Benedict, who only shot him an impenitent grin over his raised glass. Damnation, he was going to need more than a glass—he was going to need the whole damned bottle just to get through breakfast.
“Speaking of connubial bliss,” Sebastian drawled. “I have scarcely seen you with your lovely bride since the archbishop gave you his blessings to kiss her.”
“Not that he needed the good archbishop’s permission, from what I saw,” Benedict guffawed.
“Shut up, Ben.”
Instead of shutting up, Ben simply grinned at him. “Somebody ought to find his new bride to release all this…tension.”
“Tension, your sorry grandmother’s bottom,” Cassian shot back through gritted teeth. “I married her because I had no other choice.”
“Well, that is technically bound to happen when you get caught practically devouring her and your hands all over her—”
Cassian shot his friend a glare. “Her brother was about to sell her off. I could not, in good conscience, simply stand by and watch.”
Sebastian let out a low whistle. “Damn. Just when you think he cannot sink any lower, Hawthorne just blasts your expectations out of the water.”
“Strange, though, that Stonevale should claim to a conscience,” Benedict snickered, clapping a hand on Cassian’s shoulder. “Never thought you had it in you to play hero to a damsel in distress, old chap—especially to Hawthorne’ssister.”
Cassian grimaced at his friend’s words. Indeed, the heavens must have the most deranged sense of humor to have contrived this spectacular scenario. Not even two weeks ago, if someone had told him he would be marrying Hawthorne’s sister within the fortnight, he would have had the poor sod committed to Bedlam for such an atrocious tale.
But she—Juliana—was now his wife.
Perhaps he ought to hie himself off to Bedlam.
Sebastian simply sat back and pressed his fingertips together with a small smile. “From the looks of it, Stonevale does not seem so averse to marrying the lady, regardless of her familial ties.”
“Why, whatever do you mean by that?” Benedict grinned.
Cassian simply wished he could wipe the smug look off his friends’ faces. “Care to explain yourself, old friend?”
