Page 76 of A Virgin for the Duke of Thorns

CHAPTER 31

How inconsiderate of the sun to go on shining when my world has just fallen apart!

Alice could not resist regarding that obnoxiously radiant celestial body with a great deal of vexation as she strode past the immaculately trimmed bushes of the gardens of Fitzroy Hall with Scarlett and Phoebe. The sun had been shining gloriously, so both young ladies had been eager to draw out their parasols for a promenade on the grounds, oblivious to the dark clouds that hovered over their companion.

They both chatted merrily, excitedly discussing the previous events of the house party and looking forward to whatever challenges the Dowager Countess might have in store for them.

“I daresay that Lady Wellington might not be given to simply arranging for some boring card games,” Scarlett declared emphatically. “Perhaps an archery contest might be more her style—one with higher stakes.”

“Higher stakes? Like what?” Phoebe murmured, wrinkling her nose wryly. “I do not reckon that I would be keen enough to put my own dignity at stake.”

The redhead laughed gaily, and the sun glinting off her vivid red locks was particularly harsh on Alice’s eyes.

“Oh, what could be more fun than that?” She nudged Phoebe with a mischievous grin. “You must promise to participate, or it will ruin everyone else’s fun if you insist on being a bore.”

Phoebe merely let out a delicate shudder. “I fear the wrath of my mama more than the scorn of my fellows. She would never forgive me if I made a fool of myself before the other guests…”

As she trailed off, Alice caught the slight blush that rose in her sister’s cheeks, the slight softening of her gaze. All of that was lost on her, however, as she continued to trudge along lifelessly. Her reticence was not lost on her two companions, however, and eventually, they both turned to her in concern.

“Upon my word, dearest, you have been so sullen and quiet ever since we left the manor.” Scarlett sighed dramatically. “Is something amiss? A lovers’ spat with the Duke of Thorns, perhaps?”

Alice wanted to laugh at the hilarity of her friend’s words.

What lovers’ spat? Where is the love that he or I may spit on?

Phoebe looked at her with no less concern. “Did he hurt you, Alice?” she asked, her voice quaking. “He looked quite livid last night?—”

“No, no, nothing like that.” Alice shook her head.

Her younger sister had the tendency to ruminate endlessly on some things, and it was only kind—merciful even—to cut that train of thought before it could start hurtling through her mind.

“Then, what is it, dearest?” Scarlett inquired gently. “And fear not—if it was the Duke of Thorns at fault, Phoebe and I shall not let him off easily. We shall avenge you in such a way that he will never dream of hurting you again!”

Alice smiled weakly at both of them. She reached out to clasp her sister’s hand in hers and managed to give it a reassuring squeeze.

“Both of you are so wonderful right now, but it truly is nothing so earth-shattering as you make it seem,” she said, nearly choking in the end.

Truthfully speaking, it felt as if her world ended just last night, but she had to keep a brave smile on so that nobody would ever find out how broken she was inside.

“The Duke and I…” she trailed off with a sigh. “Well, His Grace and I simply are not fated to be together, it would seem. We simply do not suit each other, and I have decided to call off our betrothal.” She sucked in a deep breath and then finished, “And that is that, I suppose.”

Both young women were quiet for a while, and Alice felt as if she had lost all strength in her legs. If it had not been for Scarlett putting her arm around her and letting her lean into her, Alice feared she might have toppled over into a disgraceful heap on the grass.

“Well, it was a farce, to begin with,” Scarlett said softly. “With a beautiful possibility, I suppose, but a farce nonetheless.”

“Yes, it was nothing more than that,” Alice muttered bitterly.

Scarlett smiled at her. “On the bright side, however, there are a great many gentlemen who have grown curious about you ever since the announcement of your betrothal. They would be very much pleased to know that it has been called off.”

Phoebe wrinkled her nose delicately at that. “Men are such contradictory creatures. Why can they simply not make up their minds about something? And they have the audacity to call women indecisive!”

Alice smiled at her sister’s indignation, a clear sign of where her loyalties lay.

“In any case, it has been decided,” she told her companions.

She looked across the gardens to where the Marquess and Marchioness of Brandon, along with the Dowager Countess and the other older guests, were enjoying the fresh air. They had thought her papa too weak to make the journey to Fitzroy Hall, but nonetheless, he came to show support for Alice and her betrothed. It had only been a day, and the Marquess looked to be in excellent spirits, his face regaining some of the color it once had.

Alice would have liked to think that it was the fresh air that did wonders for her father’s health, but she knew better—her engagement to Colin and the stability marriage would provide her had significantly lessened the burdens her papa carried. If there was anyone else who would be affected more by her withdrawal, it would be her dear papa.

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