He answered, “Very well. I will do as my wife wishes.”
And then Willa was angry that he hadn’t protested, that he’d been so agreeable.
But she kept silent. She wasn’t about to spare him so much as a glance. He was free now to pursue Letty all night or any of the other ladies who had been eyeing him this evening.
As they were leaving the house, Willa overheard one woman whisper to another about what a gentleman the duke was for the way he was concerned about his wife. “So kind. So caring.”
“How fortunate for her,” was the answer.
Willa practically ran down the Evanston steps. She climbed inside her family’s coach.
Her mother paused to tell their driver, Lloyd, to drive until she gave the word where she wished to go next.
“Yes, ma’am.”
She joined Willa in the coach and he shut the door.
“I’m destroyed—” Willa started, but her mother shut her off with one raised finger.
She leaned out the window and waved at Lady Collins and several of her other friends who had gathered on the step with Lady Evanston. They waved back, and then put their heads together to gossip.
Her mother sat back. “Voices carry in the night. ‘Overheard’ gossip is the best sort.”
“Perhaps we need new friends. And new husbands.”
Cool gray eyes surveyed her as if she was an obstinate child. “What happened?”
“I found him with Letty Bainhurst.”
Her mother sighed her relief.
“You act almost happy with the news,” Willa said with reproach.
“I knew the whispers about his uncle and, well, one never knows.”
“His uncle? The one who died? What are you talking about?”
“Let us say, his uncle William was not fond of women.”
Willa frowned and then started when she realized what her mother was implying. “But that is not Matt. Not him at all.”
“Good,” her mother answered, and then she shrugged. “Catching the duke with Letty is not such a big matter.”
“It is to me.”
“Men will be who they are.” She spoke as if by rote. “Even if he had been of the same mind as his uncle, I would say what I am about to say—Willa, you will return to your husband. We will drive around a bit and then I will take you to his home.”
“You might as well take me there now,” Willa answered. “I can see you are not going to understand.”
“I can see that my daughter is hopelessly naïve.”
“Because I believe marriage vows are to be honored,” she flashed back. “He said he would be faithful. And I am not like you.”
There was a long beat of silence between them, and then her mother asked coolly, “What does that mean?”
For a moment, Willa wished she hadn’t broached the subject, and then she said, “I can’t pretend to be happy, that all is well... when it isn’t.”
“You are inlove,” her mother accused her.
