Page 58 of The Last Duke She'd Marry
“Why not? You liked him enough to kiss him, and honestly when I watched you two onstage, my heart skipped a beat.”
“That doesn’t mean anything.” Her crying fit subsided, but tears clogged her voice.
Portia frowned. “Don’t tell me he didn’t propose? There’s all that nasty gossip about him, but he’s very likeable in person. He must have stepped up to save your reputation.”
Juliet tried for her usual wry smile, but her lips crumpled at the last minute. “He did the right thing.”
“I’m so relieved. I’d hate to take another duke in dislike.”
That did elicit a shaky smile. “We’re rather overrun with dukes, aren’t we?”
“We are. I trip over a duke at every turn. So why did you say no?”
Wasn’t it obvious? It was to her. “He’s a rogue and a rake.”
“Not as much as we thought, if he asked you to marry him. Don’t you like him?”
“Of course I like him.” She would not cry again. She would not cry again. “I told you I kissed him. I’m not in the habit of kissing men I don’t like.”
“I didn’t think you were in the habit of kissing anyone.”
A shamed flush mottled her cheeks. “I seem to have got into the habit of kissing Evesham.”
To her surprise, instead of reacting with appropriate horror, Portia laughed. “Well, three cheers for you. And three cheers for Evesham.”
Puzzled, Juliet regarded her sister. “You should be appalled. I’m meant to set an example for you and Viola. Lately, I’ve been a complete failure.”
A wave rejected that woebegone assessment. “If you encourage me to kiss a handsome rascal, I think that’s an excellent example. Was it nice?”
Juliet’s lips tightened in self-disgust. Something in her wanted her sister to scold and criticize, not treat her like a heroine. She deserved to be a pariah. Right from the start, she’d recognized Evesham as trouble, but that hadn’t stopped her from running hotfoot to damnation. She was the architect of her own downfall.
“Portia, you’re not seeing the full picture. I’m the second Frain sister to spark a scandal in the space of a month. Half the ton was hiding in the bushes when Papa was ranting about my misbehavior. How on earth will you make a good marriage with such ramshackle connections?”
Her sister shrugged. “I told you I don’t care about making a good marriage. I’m a little too eccentric – and I like having the freedom to do what I wish. I can’t imagine any husband would want to take on me and my menagerie. Nor do I want to marry a man who objects to my love of animals.”
As if it had happened a hundred years ago, Juliet remembered back to her conversation with her sister the night Evesham arrived. On that occasion, she hadn’t taken Portia’s lack of interest in marriage seriously. Maybe she should have. “I always assumed you wanted what I wanted.”
Portia shook her head. “No. You were born to be a duchess. I wasn’t.”
“I wish people would stop saying that.”
Portia rolled her eyes. “But it’s clearly true. Three dukes have proposed to you.”
Juliet didn’t want to talk about that. The memory of Evesham’s devastated reaction to her refusal haunted her. Although common sense told her that she’d only injured his pride, not any deeper feelings. “You enjoyed your season. At least until Viola brought it to an abrupt end.”
“Society lining up to treat me like a goddess? Of course I enjoyed it. But it’s nothing to do with my real life. My real life is looking out for creatures who need my help.”
Right now, Juliet had a sick feeling that those creatures included Portia’s older sister. “What about a family?”
It seemed an odd moment to have a heart-to-heart conversation about her sister’s future. But it saved her from having to confess the true extent of her transgressions over the last days. She didn’t even want to think about those.
“I’ve got a family. I’ve got you and Viola and Papa, for what he’s worth. I’ll be the dotty aunt with a house full of dogs and cats, who the nieces and nephews love to visit. Grandmamma left all three of us provided for, even if Papa cuts up rough about our future plans. I’ll be more than all right.”
“You will,” Juliet said in dawning realization. “Perhaps she left us her fortune to give us a choice. I gather that she wanted to marry the village vicar instead of Lord Plunkett. But the bishop got involved, and the vicar was sent to Africa.”
“I never knew that.”
“Years ago, I overheard Mamma talking to Papa about Grandmamma’s girlish infatuation with an impoverished suitor.”
