Page 37 of The Last Duke She'd Marry
Juliet kept her eyes lowered. Perhaps it was maidenly shyness, but Evesham didn’t think so. She avoided his gaze because she feared what her expression might betray. That she wanted him and not the smug jackanapes beside her.
Because Evesham mightn’t know much. But he knew that the woman who had kissed him last night as if she’d die if she stopped hadn’t switched her allegiance in the last twenty-four hours.
Portdown took another sip of champagne and sat, nodding to Smith to serve the meal. “For the moment, we’re going to keep the engagement between us. Once the gala is over, we can announce it to the world. I don’t want anything to distract from our performance.”
“The news that Juliet is to be a duchess will set society buzzing,” Portia said. “It would steal your thunder.”
Evesham had regained enough control over his revulsion to realize that he hadn’t imagined Portia’s unenthusiastic reaction. It seemed that he’d guessed right about her not liking Granville.
Smart girl.
If only her older sister was half as smart. Although he couldn’t deny that Granville and Juliet made a gorgeous couple. Even if she looked like a beautiful ghost. Evesham feared that in a cold marriage, she’d fade away altogether.
Her father didn’t react to the jibe in Portia’s remark. Nothing was going to erode his jubilation. “Exactly, my dear. They’re coming to see Evesham. After all our hard work, I’d hate another duke to divert their attention.”
“Actually,” Granville said with an uncharacteristic hint of diffidence. “That’s something I would like to raise.”
“Oh?” Portdown said, as the footman removed his empty soup bowl.
Granville placed one hand over Juliet’s where it lay on the polished mahogany table. She hadn’t spoken, nor had she touched her soup. If she was happy about her betrothal, it didn’t show.
Which begged the question of why the hell she took Granville, if she didn’t want to marry the blackguard.
“I realize that my request may seem very last minute, but I only discovered the nature of the gala a few days ago. Nonetheless I believe it’s imperative that I speak out on this matter. I don’t believe it’s appropriate for my future wife to act in public. Particularly when the scene is of a romantic nature. Given that it’s only one part among many, would it be a problem to cut the excerpt fromRomeo and Juliet?It wouldn’t affect the rest of the entertainment.”
Portdown choked on his champagne.
“Papa, are you all right?” Portia rose and caught his glass before he splashed wine everywhere. “Take a breath.”
Red-faced and watery-eyed, Portdown glared at Granville. “I cannot have heard you correctly, Your Grace.”
Evesham knew it wasn’t the acting that Granville objected to. It was the person playing Romeo. The clod abhorred the idea of Juliet proclaiming her affections to his worst enemy.
Granville looked uncomfortable, and a muscle jerked in his cheek as he toyed with his glass. “I don’t want malicious gossip to tarnish my betrothal.”
“Gossip?” Portia asked in a dangerous tone. “What are you trying to say? Amateur theatricals in a family setting aren’t considered outré, even by the sticklers.”
Granville cast her a rankling glance. It appeared that he wasn’t overly fond of his prospective sister-in-law either. “But this isn’t really a family setting, is it? Half of ruddy Mayfair is arriving tomorrow night. To witness my future duchess declare her love to a man who’s unfit to wipe her boots.”
“Please don’t spare my feelings,” Evesham murmured.
“Well, it’s true.” Granville didn’t bother to hide his contempt as he glowered back. “The Frains have already flirted with scandal this season, and you trail destruction after you, wherever you go.”
“There has been no impropriety.” Juliet at last joined the conversation. Evesham commended her conviction, when both of them knew that she was lying. Nobody would doubt her. “But if you’re determined to see wickedness where no wickedness exists, perhaps we should reconsider our future.”
The festive atmosphere had deteriorated with notable speed. Granville turned to his prospective bride with an appalled expression. He’d clearly underestimated the family dedication to the stage. “You mistake me, my lady. I’m only trying to protect you. I don’t want this man’s toxic reputation to cause you any harm. If you take time to consider the situation, I’m sure you’ll see my point.”
What Evesham did see was that the timing of this engagement was no accident. He should even have expected it. Granville had rushed down to Afton Park to snatch Juliet out of his rival’s reach.
Juliet regarded Granville down her imperious nose. She’d never looked more like a duchess. Ice edged her voice. “I’ve played a part in my father’s productions since I could walk. Nobody has ever raised an eyebrow. If you doubt my character, I must ask myself whether you trust me as you should trust your future wife. You clearly have no faith in my judgment.”
“I don’t doubt your character or your intelligence,” Granville started.
Evesham had never seen the coxcomb caught on the wrong foot like this before. He enjoyed it in a way that he hadn’t enjoyed anything else on this pestilential day.
“Juliet and Evesham are performing Shakespeare.” Portdown regained his voice at last. “Where the art is so great, there can be no impropriety.”
Evesham wasn’t sure that he agreed, and he could tell that Granville didn’t either. But the duke seemed to recognize that he had no power to prevent Juliet’s appearance tomorrow night.
