Viscountess Marlington descended upon the duke with the determination of a general laying siege. “Your Grace! What an honor to see you at Lord Bancroft’s gathering. May I present my daughter, Miss Prudence Chetwood?”
Miss Chetwood curtsied with practiced grace, her eyes calculating as they swept over the Duke’s form. “Your Grace. I have heard so much about Heatherwell Hall. They say the grounds are magnificent.”
“They are adequate.”
“And the London townhouse, of course, is among the finest in Mayfair.” Viscountess Marlington fanned herself. “My Prudence has always admired fine architecture. She would so love to see it sometime.”
“I rarely entertain.”
“But surely, for the right company…” Viscountess Marlington’s smile stretched wider, “you might make an exception? My daughter is accomplished in all the womanly arts. Needlework, watercolors, and the pianoforte. She would make any gentleman a fine wife.”
Miss Chetwood preened. “Mama, you flatter me.”
“I speak only the truth, my dear.” Viscountess Marlington turned back to the Duke. “And of course, Prudence’s dowry is most generous. Her father has ensured she will bring a considerable fortune to her marriage.”
Sophia watched the duke’s jaw tighten. His responses grew shorter, clipped. When Viscountess Marlington paused for breath, he seized the opportunity.
“If you will excuse me, I have just spotted an acquaintance I must greet. Good day, Lady Marlington. Miss Chetwood.”
He strode away, leaving mother and daughter gaping in his wake.
Sophia allowed herself a moment of grim satisfaction before returning to find her mother. The satisfaction died the instant she saw who stood beside her.
Lord Drakeston.
Her blood turned to ice. She crossed the lawn with measured steps, fighting the urge to run.
“Ah, Lady Sophia.” Drakeston turned to greet her, his smile as polished as ever. “I was just inquiring after your father’s health. Lady Brimsey tells me he remains in the country. Such a shame. I hope he recovers soon.”
The words sounded innocent. The undertone was not.
“Thank you for your concern, Lord Drakeston.” Sophia positioned herself between him and her mother. “He improves every day.”
“I am relieved to hear it. Debts of health, like debts of coin, can be so burdensome when left untended.” His eyes glittered. “But I am certain your family manages admirably.”
Her mother’s hand found Sophia’s arm and gripped it tightly.
“Your Graces.” Drakeston’s attention shifted to something behind Sophia. “What a pleasure. Allow me to introduce Lady Brimsey and her daughter, Lady Sophia Readthorpe.”
Sophia turned. The Duke of Heatherwell stood before her, his expression unreadable. Beside him, the Duke of Thornwaite offered a charming smile.
“Lady Brimsey. Lady Sophia.” The Duke of Thornwaite swept into an elegant bow. “It is a pleasure to make your acquaintance. But, Drakeston, you did not mention you kept such delightful company.”
“A recent acquaintance.” Drakeston’s smile did not reach his eyes.
“Lady Sophia.” Thornwaite took her hand and pressed his lips to her gloved knuckles. “I must say that shade of green is most becoming on you. It brings out the remarkable color of your eyes.”
Sophia felt her cheeks warm. “You are too kind, Your Grace.”
Beside Thornwaite, the Duke of Heatherwell had gone rigid. His jaw was set, his hands clasped behind his back with white-knuckled tension. When Sophia met his gaze, she found something there she couldn’t name.
“We must move along.” Heatherwell’s voice cut through the pleasantries. “There is a business associate I must greet. Drakeston. Ladies.”
He turned and strode away. Thornwaite lingered long enough to offer another dazzling smile before following.
Sophia watched them go, bewildered by the duke’s abrupt departure.
“I shall have the next installment for you soon.” She kept her voice low, her eyes still on the retreating figures. “Until then, stay away from my mother.”
