Relief washed through him when Charlotte announced that the morning’s activity had come to an end and that it was time to leave. She would send a footman around with the easels once the paintings had dried.
Each of the debutantes curtseyed deeply as they left, although by the hurried way they packed up their things, it seemed they were as eager for the event to be over as Edward was. Only Lady Marianne stopped to exchange a few words with him before she left.
Luella was the last to leave, and she held her arm out to him. “Will you escort me out, Your Grace?”
Despite wishing to have nothing to do with her, he took her hand. She was the only person outside of his household who knew of Fiona’s deception, and he needed to discover exactly what she planned on doing with her information.
“The rest of society may be fools, Your Grace, but I am not,” Luella said once they were in the hall and out of Charlotte and Fiona’s earshot.
Fear and anger were twin beasts waking inside of him. “You’ve always struck me as an intelligent woman, Lady Luella. One who knows better than to make unnecessary enemies.” Advice. Warning. Threat. He didn’t particularly care how she interpreted his words, only that she heeded them.
She turned to face him. “I’m merely concerned, Your Grace. I’d hate to see your good name ruined by a woman who’d found a novel way to sink her claws into you.”
Luella’s faux concern turned his stomach. “Fear not. My decisions are my own.”
Simmons appeared with her coat and parasol. She stood there, unmoving, until Edward took the coat and held it for her. With a satisfied nod, she turned and threaded her arm through the sleeve. “We will eat her alive. You know that, don’t you?” she asked in the same sweet, polite tone someone might use when discussing what flavored ice they wanted. “She will be the subject of scorn in every house in London.”
Her words chilled him. “Sheath your claws.Finleyis in town for business only.”
Luella faced him, smiling as she buttoned up her coat. “And I’m sure that business won’t go well ifhisdeception is revealed. Neither will your complicity in fooling thetonbe viewed favorably. It might well be the biggest scandal since…oh, I don’t know. Your father?” She accepted her parasol from Simmons, who, despite his impeccable training, could not keep the scowl from his expression.
“What do you want?” Edward asked. Her response did not surprise him.
“I need to be a duchess, and I don’t really care how.”
***
After Edward and Luella had left, Fiona’s instinct was to make a quick exit, but she couldn’t resist visiting each easel. It was disconcerting to see her face replicated so many times. It was especially disconcerting to see such masculine versions of herself, for each of the debutantes—subconsciously or not—had strengthened her jaw slightly, gone heavier on the brows than was true, and thinned her lips just a touch.
It was as if they saw only what they expected to see.
Except the last painting—a beautifully rendered image of her and Edward leaning toward each other, mid-conversation. No, this painting did not skip over her feminine features, but rather enhanced them. Anyone looking at it would see the truth of the subject—a woman disguised as a man, and not very well at that.
Looking to the bottom corner, she saw what she expected to: Lady Luella’s name elegantly drawn.
With a quick glance to make sure Charlotte’s attention was on packing up her own work, Fiona picked up the painting, folded it in quarters and stuffed it in her morning coat, then she crossed to the window where she could watch Luella leave.
“That was an interesting afternoon,” Charlotte said, coming up beside her as Luella climbed into her carriage. “I must confess, I’m not sure I had all the information going into it.”
A thread of guilt wormed through her. “No one ever does, Char. We just make the best choices we can with what we have.” She’d certainly not had all the information when she and Edward met. Falling in love was the only thing she could have done, under the circumstances.
“And have I made the right choices, do you think?” Charlotte held out the sketch she’d been working on. She’d done a lovely job. The boy on the page was captured mid-smile, a cheeky, friendly look on his face. It was a flattering likeness and beneath in an elegant hand, two words:New Friends.
“Have I missed anything, do you think? Have I got anything wrong?”
Fiona swallowed, wishing she could tell Charlotte everything. Both the Stirling siblings would be hurt if—when—they discovered the truth, and Fiona was coming to care for them a great deal, just as she cared for the duke. And look at the damage she’d done to him last night.
A week ago, the thought of being “even,” the score being “settled,” would have given her some measure of satisfaction. Instead, it made her stomach roil.
“No, Char. Everything is perfect.”
Chapter 18
To Fiona’s frustration, she’d not had the chance to speak with Edward alone that afternoon. No sooner had the young ladies and their painting sets vanished than her father arrived. He wasdispleased. Apparently, not even the threat of jail time was a reasonable excuse for residing under the same roof as that “black-hearted, self-servingtoff.”
At least he hadn’t said it to Edward’s face. But walls had ears and she was sure the duke would hear about Alastair’s arrival, and his insults, soon enough.
In an effort to avoid further conflict, she’d done as her father asked, showing him around the makeshift laboratory she’d created from one of Edward’s rarely used receiving rooms. She didn’t know why he bothered feigning interest in her work now, when he’d never visited her permanent lab at the firm back home. He didn’t even question her continued appearance as Finley. No doubt he simply wanted to see inside a ducal manor, to find more evidence of inequity to fuel his constant fire.
