Page 17 of A Virgin for the Ruthless Duke

“You are acquainted with the Dowager Duchess?” Selina asked, her curiosity getting the better of her.

“Yes, I am. We both debuted at the same time, and even then, she was prideful and flighty. She was beautiful and had many suitors, but she was adept at using her beauty to get what she wanted. She kept all of them on a short leash, making them believe that she might consider their suit while accepting all their gifts until the drawing room of their house resembled a gift shop.

“Until towards the end of the Season, when the previous Duke rejoined the ton and immediately took a liking to her. He was very much like his peers, but one thing set him apart from his competitors. He was a rich duke, and Johanna claimed to have fallen in love with him. In a thrice, she wrote rejection letters to her other suitors. Her courtship with the Duke was a whirlwind, and soon they had one of the best weddings the ton had ever seen.

“But barely a few years into their marriage, the love story that had taken the ton by storm turned sour. It appeared that while the Duke’s charm might have subdued her flighty tendencies, it did not completely stop it. In no time, she was acquiring lovers left and right. It is a little surprising that she managed to raise a good-hearted, principled man like the current Duke.”

Selina would be lying if she said the story hadn’t surprised her. The Duke was so proper and disciplined, but he was playing havoc with her equilibrium. Like his mother, he could holdpeople in thrall. The fact that he had not used those natural talents was a testament to his principled character.

“Speak of the devil and she appears,” her aunt muttered under her breath.

Sure enough, when Selina looked towards the entrance of the ballroom, the Dowager Duchess of Seymour was walking in, dressed to the nines in a deep blue sequined dress that glittered when she moved. Her carriage depicted nothing short of Royalty, and at that moment, Selina understood how the woman was able to enthrall so many men in her prime.

After all, the Dowager Duchess still carried traces of the great beauty she once was in the slimness of her nose, her high cheekbones, and the unique indigo shade of her expressive eyes. She was beautiful. She knew it, and she was not afraid to use her beauty to get exactly what she wanted, even if that was a place in a young rake’s bed.

As Selina watched her walk in with a bold smile, it soon became clear to her that she was heading towards them. Her smile dimmed as the Dowager Duchess came closer.

“Good evening, Your Grace,” Selina greeted, before dropping into a curtsey.

Her eyes widened in shock when she saw that her aunt remained standing, her expression one of open defiance.

“Please forgive me, Your Grace,” Martha said, jutting her chin. “I cannot curtsey with these knees.”

She did not bother to appear remorseful because she wasn’t, and she definitely did not have any problems with her knees.

Her love for gardening meant that she spent a lot of time on her knees, and a curtsey was in no way a hardship for her—except that she did not want to, since the Duchess in question was an enemy.

“I would prefer not to be known in Society for forcing people to curtsey in their failing… health,” the Dowager Duchess said, emphasizing the word ‘failing,’ knowing that it would annoy Martha.

Sure enough, Martha’s eyes narrowed, flashing with aggravation.

“I must confess that you look well, Martha,” the Dowager Duchess continued with chilly sweetness.

“And you look exactly the same,” Martha gritted out.

“Really? I would say the same for you, but that wouldn’t be true. You seem a little more plump. Still have an appetite for sweets, eh?” The Dowager Duchess’s eyes flashed with merriment even though her expression remained frosty.

She was thoroughly enjoying the exchange and how it enraged Martha.

“Well, at least I have kept my dignity,” Martha retorted. “I am sure the same cannot be said for you.” When the Dowager Duchess’s smile dimmed at the particularly sharp barb, she went in for the kill. “You must have had so many worries lately. The wrinkles on your forehead are as deep as the ridges I have to make for my flowers.” She affected a concerned tone, but the triumphant smirk on her face belied it.

The Dowager Duchess barely had any wrinkles except for a few laughter lines that Selina could see. But public opinion was a cunning thing, and for a woman who considered her beauty one of her most valuable assets, Martha had found the easiest way to wound her.

“I believe I spotted my son somewhere in this ballroom. You will have to excuse me,” the Dowager Duchess said, before walking away as fast as she could while remaining graceful.

Martha was indeed a formidable opponent in a battle of wills, and no matter what she said, Selina knew that there was more to their cold enmity than she had let on.

The effect of her new transformation had followed her to the next event at the house party. This time, Selina wore one of her green gowns—a rich shade of forest green embroidered with wildflowers. More than one gentleman had sworn that the gownmade her look like a goddess of wildlife, and who would not want a goddess on his arm?

She was approached by so many men that it became exhausting. Even though she made appropriate noises when they conversed with her, her mind was preoccupied with trying to find Richard and ascertain where he was on the large expanse of land that was the terrace of the Mulford’s house. When she found him, he was standing somewhere close to the river, his dark head bent in conversation with another gentleman.

She knew she should be grateful that his advice seemed to be yielding fruits and she now had a herd of new suitors, but with every conversation, her disappointment deepened until she despaired of finding an independent-minded, level-headed man among them.

They all spoke of the same things—their expectations of the women in their lives, their pride in their horses, and how large their estates were. There was nothing in the way of character that suggested her married life would not be drab and uninspiring.

Besides, while she dressed up for the day’s event, she had come to the realization that she only had two green gowns in her possession and she had already worn them. Since the ton held rather irrelevant things in high esteem, it stood to reason that she could not give them the opportunity to ridicule her when she was finally changing their perception of her.

She noticed that the Duke was heading somewhere into the house—presumably to find the library, as he preferred the solitude of such rooms when he wanted to escape the chaos into which social events could transform in the blink of an eye.

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