Page 38 of A Virgin for the Duke of Thorns

But was a proper gentleman going to heat her blood and make her want to abandon all common sense? Probably not.

Much later, when Phoebe had left for her own bedchamber, Alice could not help but mull over the fact that perhaps she might not want a thoroughly “proper” gentleman for a husband.

Perhaps a little mischief would be nice. A bit of a beast in him, so to speak.

But, of course, she most definitely was not considering marrying the Duke of Thorns for real!

Now, that would be complete and utter insanity.

CHAPTER 15

When Alice arrived at the breakfast room the next day, she found her mother in much better spirits than she had been last night after having to leave Lady Salisbury’s ball early.

“Alice, dear, you look absolutely radiant.” Lady Brandon beamed at her.

“Ah, perhaps it was the tea that Lady Wellington recommended,” she replied, taking her usual seat beside Phoebe, who smiled sympathetically at her. Alice simply nodded wordlessly and smiled back as she poured herself some tea and began adding some milk.

“The Countess certainly makes the best suggestions.” Their mama nodded with a bright smile. “And it rather looks like she did an exceptional job raising His Grace and Lady Evelyn.”

Alice nearly dropped her spoon into her tea while Phoebe ducked her head. If Lady Wellington had been more successful in managing Colin Fitzroy, then he most probably would not have become a Wolf or the infamous Duke of Thorns.

“What I meant was that Lady Evelyn seems like a lovely young lady,” Lady Brandon corrected herself with a sheepish look towards Phoebe. “Wouldn’t you say so, my dear?”

So lovely, indeed, that it fairly boggles the mind how she could be related to the Duke of Thorns, much less be his full-blooded sibling…

“Yes, Mama,” Phoebe replied politely, ever the picture of the perfect young lady.

“And every young man goes through rough phases,” the Marchioness continued. “Why, when your father was younger, half the young ladies feared him for his reputation. When he expressed his interest in me, my poor mother had an attack of the vapors!”

“Really, Mama?” Alice grinned. “I could not imagine Papa being as much of a troublemaker as you say.”

“Oh, he was. No doubt about it.” Lady Brandon laughed. “But you know what they say?—”

“Reformed rakes make the best husbands!” Alice and Phoebe both chimed in together. The sisters shared a look before bursting into giggles.

“Yes, yes, absolutely! Which is why you should not judge a gentleman solely based on his past,” their mother reminded them with a stern glance. “Actions speak louder than words.”

“I thought that a gentleman’s reputation is most certainly earned,” Phoebe remarked with a slight twitch of her nose. “And to keep well away from gentlemen of infamy.”

Lady Brandon colored slightly and cleared her throat delicately. “One must exercise judgment in such matters, of course, my dear. When you are young, it is not so easy to tell bad apples from the rest—which is why I would advise you to heed my warnings.”

Breakfast proceeded in very much the same way as it mostly did in Brandon Estate—with the Marchioness alternating between exalting her two daughters and then admonishing them for some social misstep or another. Strangely enough, Alice—who was usually the recipient of such admonishments—was spared from most of it.

“And, oh! Do not forget to take the coach when you go out to promenade in the Park later this afternoon,” she reminded the two young ladies.

“But, Mama,” Phoebe reasoned, “I do not think it would be a good idea, considering that everybody would still be abed, recovering from last night’s ball.”

Indeed, a ball could last fairly into the morning, and from what Alice had experienced of Lady Salisbury’s balls in her previous Seasons, these affairs ended with breakfast before their fatigued guests headed back for their respective residences. Hardly anyone would be compelled to drag themselves to the Park for a promenade, even in the afternoon.

But Lady Brandon would not be dissuaded, insisting that it was a promenade that set Alice on the path of the Duke of Blackthorn, and if it worked for the older sister, then it should work for the younger sister as well.

“I do not think marrying another duke would be a good idea,” Phoebe confided in Alice later that afternoon as they strolled down the paths of Hyde Park.

“Why not?” Alice smiled. “Please do not tell me that my betrothal has given you cause for worry, dearest.”

Her younger sister shook her head. “It is not that,” she whispered. “But Mama is rather convinced that I will marry a duke as well and—” She sighed heavily, the frustration evident in her eyes. “As you can see, the only dukes that are available for marriage are the Wolves—minus the Duke of Blackthorn, of course.”

Of course.

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