Page 14 of Wedded to the Deviant Duke

There was a lack of refuse, for starters, bunched into piles along the side of the white-polished walls curling with the start of blooming ivy, nor had it tangled itself between half-rotting stumps or chewed-apart bushes.

The air felt clean against her face, and inhaling deeply wouldn’t cause horrific wheezing. And the people; each gardener she and Charlotte passed offered a friendly smile or nod, and Thalia couldn’t believe how sorely she’d missed such basic acts of kindness.

She was so lost in her thoughts that Thalia hadn’t realized Charlotte stopped them long ago. They appeared to be beneath a wide gazebo, painted a beautiful birch-white and sparsely walled-off with beautiful, rose-hued silks. A cavalcade of rose bushes cradled the picnicking spot, filling the air with a rich, perfumed scent that mingled nicely with the fresh, spring air.

A tea table had been set at its center, decorated with lovely vases of white-and-red roses, and another finely-dressed woman closer to Thalia in years sat in one of the chairs, sipping delicately from a china cup. Bright red hair caught in the sunlight, and as a freckled-face turned to greet the pair, Thalia’s heart skipped a beat.

“Louise, I want you to meet my brother’s latest obsession.” Charlotte practically skipped to the side, hands held aloft in dramatic fashion as she introduced her guest. “Thalia, this is one of my dear friends, Louise. Her husband, Christian Wright, is the Duke of Egerton.” Charlotte paused, adding with a chuckle, “I suppose I should have technically introduced her as Her Grace Louise Wright, Duchess of Egerton…”

Louise, in return, waved a gloved hand in the air. “Entirely too much of a mouthful; Louise is just fine.”

“Her husband and my brother founded the Ton’s Orions together,” Charlotte grinned. “Thick as thieves, those two, though you’d hardly ever hear Gabriel admit it.”

Thalia could only smile and nod in response.

“And before it becomes far too awkward to broach,” Charlotte said. “Louise, this is Thalia Sutton, of Oslay Hall.”

Again, Thalia’s face lit up crimson. She wanted nothing more than to run inside the manor and hide away for the next five days, but much to her surprise, Louise’s expression held genuine sympathy.

“Thank goodness the new marquess is only your cousin; I couldn’t imagine being directly related to such a spineless coward.” She shifted in her chair, revealing the sizable bump against her dress, and gestured to the empty spot beside her. “You rode all the way from Whitechapel, yes? Come, don’t let us make you stand any longer.”

“I was just about to invite her to sit!” Charlotte insisted, quickly choosing a chair directly across from Louise. “You are ruining my first real hostess experience.”

Louise replied with a rich, deep laughter, the sort that filled one’s core instantly. Thalia moved to take her seat beside the duchess, eyeing their luncheon nervously.

“Do you want me to help with anything?” Charlotte immediately stood, reaching for a sampler plate and a pair of tongs. “I couldn’t help but notice your wrist; is it a recent injury?”

Thalia immediately tucked her splint beneath the table, feeling Louise’s eyes boring into it. “Ah, no. It—I mean, I suppose it is.” She dared a glance towards the duchess, a cold sweat breaking out against the back of her neck.

Louise looked visibly concerned, an obvious realization spreading across her face. Then, without warning, she let out a groan and eased herself upright, using the table for support as her other hand rested against her midsection.

“Gracious, I think the little one’s feeling restless. Charlotte, would you mind setting up another plate for me?” Louise asked. “I think I need a quick walk among the roses.”

Charlotte nodded, eagerly placing a finger sandwich onto the sampler plate. “Oh—do you want me to walk with you, in that case?”

“No, no, let Thalia come with me,” Louise insisted. “She hasn’t seen the loveliest parts yet herself.” Her attention then turned to Thalia, her expression flawlessly apologetic. “I’m terribly sorry for this; and here I just invited you to sit.”

“N-no, Your Grace, it’s quite alright.” Thalia quickly stood, looping an arm around Louise’s to help support her. “Um… I’ll follow your lead, then.”

“I’ll have tea and snacks ready when you return!” Charlotte grinned, waving the two off as Thalia stepped down from the gazebo. She dared one more glance at Louise, whose calm and unsuspecting demeanor hadn’t once faltered.

But her stomach knotted regardless, and she felt a pained twinge on her wrist. The Duchess of Egerton knew something was off, and Thalia suspected she wouldn’t be getting away from her interrogations so easily…

* * *

Gabriel had been staring across his desk at Robin, silently, for the past five minutes or so. He’d immediately led the Sutton boy to his out-of-home study, adjacent to the main library and stocked just as thoroughly.

Dozens upon hundreds of books lined the walls of the room, a few armchairs set behind a large, stained glass window currently filtering in slivers of colorful, mid-afternoon sunlight.

In the corner, a small fireplace crackled delicately, given only enough logs to create a soft ambiance and hold a slight tinge of smoke in the air. Robin had chosen to sit closest to it, staring at the flames in quiet contemplation.

No one seemed willing to speak first. Gabriel could respect that; he had been the one to call the meeting, as it were, and it was wise to allow one’s enemy to speak themselves into a corner. Whitechapel truly had made itself another distrusting member of London society.

“It was a foolish plan at best, you know.”

Robin’s jaw visibly clenched. “What was?”

Gabriel leaned back in his chair, his brow raised slightly. “Your forgery attempt.”

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