She blinked, disbelieving wealth like his was real.
“Our guests will arrive shortly, Elizabeth. We will greet them in the parlor for our wedding luncheon and afterward, there should be time for you to rest before the dinner and dance. My mother and Miss Li arranged for everything; we need only mingle. You can do that, can’t you?”
She blinked again, overwhelmed.
“Lizzie?” he demanded.
“Yes, yes of course I am capable of mingling, Milton. I am simply stunned by your … abode.” She stared up at the gilded ceiling, the sweeping arches. Good God this man was?—
He laughed. “Why yes,Lady Milton.” He used her new name, which sounded very strange. “Your husband’s filthy rich. Get used to it, darling.”
He led her straight into his parlor, where, like his wealth, Elizabeth knew she’d be shown off too. And she was, just as soon as guests arrived.
“My congratulations, Baron, Lady Milton.” The Dowager Duchess of Allendale peered one second too long at Elizabeth’s spectacles.
“Your Grace, it is so good of you to come.” Milton bowed as Elizabeth dropped into a curtsy.
“I promised Roland if he gave me grandbabies I’d acquiesce more often to his demands.” She side-eyed her son, the Duke.
“Mother has been pleased with me only since I married.” He put his arm about his very beautiful, and very pregnant, wife.
“And my husband, Lady Milton, is a rake of the worst order.” His Duchess smiled warmly at Elizabeth. “But he’s an honest rake, I’ll give him that.”
Elizabeth fell into another deep curtsy, her eyes resting on the lady’s midriff. “Congratulations, Your Grace, on your impending joy.”
“Joy, yes.” Her Grace sighed. “With a two-year-old at home, Lady Milton, there’ll be more work than joy once his sibling arrives.”
The Dowager’s lips pursed.
“But never mind all that.” The Duchess promptly took Elizabeth’s arm. “I should like to learn more aboutyou, Lady Milton, as I know a thing or two about your husband already.” She flashed Milton a tidy grin. “I am going to steal your bride, sir,” she told him, bold as anything, “but I promise to return her to you relativelyunscathed.”
Elizabeth could not believe her husband’s paling face, nor how quickly the Duchess swept her into an alcove. Her Grace eased herself onto a bench, cradling her belly. She was a striking woman with hair the color of burnished gold, her figure, even with child, of stunning proportions.
“Tell me, Lady Milton, was your husband as insufferable as mine throughout your courtship?”
Elizabeth’s jaw dropped.
The Duchess leaned closer. “I am not as you think,” she whispered, “and suspect you are not either. Call me Charles, please. May I call you Elizabeth in return?” Her smile was warm and inviting.
“Charles…?” Elizabeth tripped over the name, confused.
“It is a boy’s name, but it is mine, nonetheless.”
“Call me Lizzie, Your Grace,” she blurted.
“Lizzie.” Charles smiled. “I like it.” She instantly put Elizabeth at ease. “Our husbands are good friends you see, and I hope we will be too. In fact, they go far back in friendship. I assume you’ve met their other good friend, Madam LeBrecht, or Miss Li?”
“Yes,” Elizabeth answered, thinking here, at last, was someone who might reveal something of her husband’s past.
“I met Li while the Duke pursued me, Lizzie, and have grown to respect and appreciate her friendship with my husband, though I disliked her immensely at first.”
“Disliked, Your Grace?”
“Lizzie, you needn’t ‘Your Grace’ me when we speak in private.”
“Forgive me, Charles.”
“Roland and Jasper were once rivals for Li’s affection.”
