Page 16 of His Runaway Duchess

It was the Dowager Duchess, of course, as composed and tidy as if being urgently summoned in the evening in this manner was simply a matter of course. Lady Clarissa Beaton, the Dowager Duchess of Thornbridge, was not the sort of woman who allowed herself to get ruffled over anything.

She was a tall woman, well-built and handsome for her age, with graying hair that had once been blonde and amber eyes. When she was first widowed, Society gossiped over whether she intended to remarry or not. Apparently, the role of Dowager Duchess of Thornbridge was a finer position than any man could offer her.

Edward was grateful for her help over the years. It had occurred to him more than once that he ought to show it more.

“I have heard a rather shocking story from your steward,” Clarissa said, her voice cool and even. “Is there a madwoman in your attic, Edward?”

He grunted. “Not exactly. Miss Belmont, to be precise. I’m not familiar with the name, but I know the St. Maurs.”

Clarissa pursed her lips, no doubt consulting her encyclopedic knowledge of the tonand their families.

“Which Miss Belmont? The eldest Miss Belmont made a most remarkable match and married the Duke of Langdon. There wasquite a scandal about her at the time. The family is said to be on the up and up. There are two Miss Belmonts left. Twins, I believe. Which one is it?”

“Daphne. I can’t imagine it makes much difference.”

Clarissa settled herself in a chair by the fire. “No, it does not. And she is here?”

“In quite a state, yes. Wearing a wedding dress.”

She stiffened. “My, how intriguing. Would you like me to get the story out of her?”

“No, better not. It’s none of our concern, after all.”

Clarissa pursed her lips in obvious disagreement. “She is underourroof, Edward.”

After a tense pause, she cleared her throat and corrected herself.

“Your roof, that is.”

Edward sighed, raking a hand through his hair again. It was still damp from the rain. Outside, he could see that mist was swirling thickly through the gardens, reminding him of nothing so much as the tide coming in. This time of year was always damp and dank, with endless mud and rain and cold. It was enough to make anyone melancholy.

Sometimes I remember why I used to like spending part of the year in London.

No, he didn’t mean that. Did he? London was noisy, crowded, and smelly. It was full of people whom one did not wish to talk to, but who talked incessantly anyway.

“I brought a gown and some other linens for the girl,” Clarissa said, interrupting his thoughts. “Just one gown, just one change. We don’t want to encourage her to stay longer.”

“Don’t worry about that. I’ll have my carriage ready to take her directly home, straight after breakfast. We don’t even need to see her.”

Clarissa pursed her lips. “Afterbreakfast? You are entirely too kind, Edward.”

He smiled tightly. “I don’t think you believe that.”

There was a brief pause after that.

Edward had never quite known how to speak to his stepmother. Really, she was the only mother he’d known. She’d tried hard to mother him but never had seemed cut out for it. Not her fault, naturally.

Of course, now that the late Duke was gone, Clarissa was somewhat cut adrift. The bulk of the money and all of the land went to the heir, and Clarissa’s widow’s jointure was not asgenerous as she’d been led to believe. They’d both suffered from the late Duke’s choices, it seemed.

Edward did not worry too much aboutrightandwrongin his daily life, not like those endless philosophical tomes his late wife used to enjoy. But he did know his duty, and it was not fair that Clarissa should be plunged into poverty. He supplemented her mean jointure with an allowance of his own and gifted her the dower house and the land it stood upon. Besides, it was pleasant to have Clarissa so close. He had no other family left, anyway.

Except for his son, of course, but that relationship was prickly at the best of times.

Edward got up from his seat and moved over to the window. He wished Clarissa would leave. It had been a long day, and his mind was reeling.

I’m the one who summoned her to my house after dark.I can hardly send her away now.

“Let’s not worry too much about that conniving girl,” Clarissa said suddenly, rising and crossing the room to stand behind him. He could see her reflection in the window, pale as a ghost. “I am more concerned about Alex. He is our future, after all, and I do think he is running wild.”

---