She turned the gun over in her hand; her fingertips skimmed over the cool handle. She peeked up. “One day, I need you to teach me how...”
His grin was rakish. “It will be my pleasure.”
“Your Grace,” Victoria’s butler bowed. “Welcome. Her ladyship is in the blue drawing room. May I take you there?”
“Please,” Ellie said as she pulled her Spencer Jacket away. Then, she nervously brushed down the tiered skirts of her olive sprigged muslin walking dress— another addition to her wardrobe, from the modiste.
Her friend was curled up in the nook of a loveseat, with a book on her lap. She didn’t look up. “Nothing for me, Stevens.”
Ellie sucked in a breath. “It’s me.”
The book hit the ground as Victoria launched herself up, the tails of her lilac dress billowing behind her. Ellie then found herself wrapped in the tightest, all-consuming embrace of her life.
“Ellie—!” Victoria’s disbelief was palpable, “Are you really here?”
“I am,” Ellie pulled away. “I am sorry for staying away for so long.”
The doubt did not fade from her friend’s eyes as she uttered, “The chapel, I—I—I-”
“You did the best you could, Victoria,” Ellie maneuvered them down to the couch and toed the book away with her half-boot. “It only happens that someone else did something better.”
She didn’t look amused. “That Duke? How—how did he do anything better than I did?”
“He knew something about my relatives that I did not know,” Ellie said. “Unfortunately, my aunt and uncle only groomed me so I could elevate them into the ton—a status my aunt so keenly craves.”
Shivering in repulsion, Victoria murmured, “I always felt there was something off about that woman. She was never motherly, never kind. Always pushing you to perfect your Latin or French, yet having you shadow Harriet when you reached of age.”
“Have you seen my aunt as of late?” Ellie asked suddenly. “In balls or parties?”
Victoria’s face twisted. “How on earth do you think I can enjoy myself with you vanishing? I’ve been sick with worry, Ellie! You vanished for two weeks and then suddenly appeared at your wedding. And after that, you were gone too. I did not eat for days, Ellie. I was that worried.”
Heartened, Ellie reached out and held her friend's hands, they were cold to the touch. “I am here now. You do not have to worry for me anymore.”
Shaking her head, Victoria said, “That is not how friendships work, Ellie. I’ll always worry for you. What is that man like?”
Biting her lip, Ellie considered the question. “Can we have some tea before I answer that?”
“Of course!” Victoria rang for the beverage. When she sat again, she said, “I do not think you know, but no one knows anything about Duke Wolfthorne.”
Ellie’s brow lifted. “Nothing?”
“Not one thing,” Victoria shook her head. “There are no records of him anywhere, not Eton, not Oxford, not Cambridge, or anywhere. No lady in Town has said anything about having an affair or being courted by him, no one knows his family. It is as if he is a ghost, Ellie. That is another reason I worried for you.”
While the maid set the trays on the coffee table, Ellie took a moment to look around the elegant cameo blue drawing room. She poured a cup of tea from the round china pot, then took a sip. Warmth flooded her body, and some of the tension that had invaded her limbs eased.
Setting the cup on the table, she began, “Dorian has had a very… unfortunate past.”
A notch appeared between Victoria’s brows. “Whatever do you mean?”
To gather herself, Ellie sipped more tea. “Did you check Debrett’s? I am sure a record of his lineage is there.”
“You are beating around the bush…” Victoria pressed.
Ellie told her dearest friend all she knew about Dorian’s family—keeping the issue of finding his uncle close to her chest—and how, after they were cast out, he ended up in the stews.
“Oh… dear,” Victoria rubbed her chest. “That is troubling…”
“But he managed to pull himself back onto the right path,” Ellie said, feeling oddly proud. “He owns a thriving business, and he worked hard enough to regain his family’s properties.”
