“It’s not enough. More will suffer.” The duke’s fisted hand trembled. His face filled with the frown of a man caught in fresh mourning. “Sorry, my dorogaya, my Anya.”
My sister, maybe for the first time ever, glanced at him with compassion. “There will be more time, Your Grace. More days for good works.” Her voice was low and unusually warm. “Everything, including medicines, takes time.”
The duke turned from her to his man. “Steele, our people, our sources couldn’t stop this?”
“No, sir. No matter what I offered, they refused. I have good knowledge that all the Town’s rags will have similar images, but they will probably reprint this one. The artist, the terrible Gilroy, is popular.”
The butler used some choice foreign-sounding words, but I could tell they were curses by his harsh, grumbling tone. Then I knew that dorogaya was an endearment.
“I’m horrified,” Katherine said. “Miss Coal . . . They might as well have said Wilcox. Everyone will know it to be us.”
“We must fight this, madam,” Mr. Steele said. “Many fear interracial and even interfaith marriages. These two have become another target in the bigger fight against abolition.”
“Practice is done for today.” The duke ripped the paper in two. “As much as it pains me to say, Lady Hampton is right. Mr. Steele too. This faux romance must become bigger and more public. Joy must defeat the darkness.”
“More public? No, Your Grace.” My throat closed up a little. I wanted to pound the top of the pianoforte in protest, but Mark must’ve known.
He put his hand along mine, his finger stroking my thumb. Then he slyly drew back as if he were merely aligning his papers. “Torrance, what do we do?”
“You’ll still be able to beg off at my ball, Miss Wilcox,” the duke said. “But I insist that your heads are up and that you and Sebastian be proud of your courtship, no matter how false it is. None of the Wilcoxes are made for the shadows. You will not be condemned because of a fool’s cartoon. Nor can Anya House.”
My feet felt cold thinking about being out in London as a couple, for the world to see and mock. “I don’t know, Your Grace.”
“Only a fool hides a diamond in the dark. Only a fool abandons a gem in the dark because he’s too afraid of it being seen in the light.”
With the newspaper pieces crumpled into a tight ball, he handed them to Steele. “Burn this. Then get my largest carriage available tomorrow. We must do an open walk. Lady Hampton, you and I shall chaperone the couple at a park.”
My sister looked terrified. “Are you sure we shouldn’t stop?”
The duke took her hand, then released it as quickly. “It’s bigger than us. It’s a fight worth having. One I wish I’d fought years ago. We can never run scared. It never works.”
I nodded. “You’re right. We must lift our heads.”
My music teacher looked oddly pleased.
“Are you committed, Sebastian?” the duke asked. “I understand—”
“Of course,” Mark said, his voice sounding deeper and very strong as he gathered his things. “I want to fight too. I look forward to Hyde Park tomorrow. Good evening, Your Grace, Lady Hampton, and my lovely faux fiancée, Miss Wilcox. I’ll be proud to take a walk with you.”
“Maybe show me some of your special birds, sir.”
“Yes, and we should dance a few times at the ball, now that Torrance has shown me you are proficient in that as well. Your Grace, I’ll handle her waltzes from now on. She’s my betrothed.”
“Of course, the faux suitor takes precedence.”
Mark’s smile and bursting dimples shone for me. And I suspected he was happy—happy to help and happy to claim all my dances, taking them away from the duke.
Chapter 18
MARK—SUMMONED BY THEMATRIARCH
Upon returning to my residence, I found a note from dear Mama shoved under my door. My mother didn’t deliver it. She wouldn’t come to my bachelor’s lodgings on Jermyn Street. She was not a writer, and my father dissuaded her from the idea of having a scribe like a few fashionable ladies had.
Yet this note, on Prahmn’s blue stationery, was written in her hand.
I’d been summoned, summoned by the Marchioness of Prahmn. Running a hand through my hair, I centered in front of my mirror. Not too disheveled. I should go now.
Delaying a visit to my mother was not a good idea. My father was still on holiday. This would be the best time if I wanted to avoid arguments.
