Page 42 of Rules for Heiresses
The question was blunt. “For the foreseeable future.”
“And the unforeseeable future?”
Courtland fought the urge to grin at her tenacity. “I don’t make decisions based on what I cannot predict, Your Grace.”
Lady Embry eyed him over her teacup and then nodded. He could feel Ravenna’s tension beside him. She was practically vibrating with strain. Surely she wasn’t that terrified of her own mother? He spared her a quick glance, noting the bright spots of color on her cheeks. She’d changed from her earlier riding habit into a maroon-and-white dress embroidered with tiny gold flowers that made her complexion seem luminous.
Courtland thought back to their first encounter as adults, staring across at her over that table at the Starlight, and the stark differences in both her appearance and her conduct. She’d carried off the part of a carefree young fop with charming ease. How confident she’d been! The fake mustache had done wonders to conceal her sex, along with the dapper men’s clothing, but the sharp intellect and fiery spirit that had shone in her eyes had not changed.
However, that wild version of Ravenna was nothing like the one who sat here now, as demure as any refined, well-bred English lady. He longed to rake his hands through her painstakingly styled hair, muss those perfect skirts, hear her throaty, wicked laughter. She was so picture perfect that ithurtto see his vibrant sprite reduced to this shadow. Thisillusion. He was wrong earlier. Being in England did not do her any favors either.
“Is something amiss, Your Grace?” the dowager asked, peering at him. “You had quite a severe frown upon your brow just then. Is the brandy not to your liking?”
“The brandy is excellent,” he said. “I was simply remarking on my wife’s distress.”
“Distress?” Lady Embry asked.
He met her direct stare, feeling Ravenna’s attention flick to him. “With respect, do you have concerns about this marriage, Your Grace? If so, you are welcome to address them to both of us.” He sent his suddenly twitchy bride a reassuring look. “Though the circumstances of our meeting were quite unexpected with Ravenna’s surprising arrival in Antigua, the fact that we have known each other from childhood made us realize how much we had in common.”
The dowager’s glare was astute. “So your marriage had nothing to do with my daughter traipsing around in men’s clothing and courting ruination?”
“A mere lark, as she mentioned, one that was unfortunately ill-fated. Hence, our swift exchange of vows. Trust me, Your Grace, your daughter’s reputation did not suffer a fatal blow. In fact, our wedding was quite well attended and lauded by many peers and dignitaries.”
“Antigua isnottown, dear boy.”
Courtland smiled. “No, you’re right, of course.”
“We must rectify that with a proper ball at once.” The dowager’s shrewd stare sharpened. She cleared her throat. “Your stepbrother will not make this easy on you. Nor will the marchioness.”
“I am aware, Your Grace.” He leaned forward. “Which is why we need your help.”
Twelve
The coming-out ball for Lady Bronwyn Chase, the granddaughter of the late Duke of Ashvale and half sister of the current duke, had to be the most ostentatious event known to man. There wasn’t even royalty in attendance, though it was rumored that Bertie, Prince of Wales, might attend. Judging by the size of the crowd, everyone else of consequence had been invited, and naturally, given the mysteriousisland dukewas finally in town, everyone had arrived en masse.
It was a crush and not a single expense had been spared.
Ravenna could hardly take it all in.
Towering potted ferns had been brought into the hall, while enormous sprays of flowers in every conceivable color and rhododendron-filled porcelain urns adorned the corners. The ballroom was richly decorated with floral motifs and brightly lit, with a small orchestra at one end. The tables in the supper and refreshment rooms at the opposite end creaked beneath the weight of all their dishes—from game, ham, and fowl to jellies, cakes, and trifles.
By all accounts, it was such a vulgar display of wealth that it nearly made Ravenna feel somewhat ill. Even by London standards, it was over the top. The obvious grandeur had a specific purpose. Either Lady Borne definitely had something to prove to the denizens of theton,or she was hoping to marry off her daughter as soon as possible by attracting the best title money could buy.
Ravenna had only met Lady Bronwyn in the receiving line for the briefest of moments, and apart from the beautiful debutante gown, she wasn’t able to glean much about the younger girl’s personality. In truth, the poor thing looked pale and overwhelmed. She hadn’t seen Courtland’s sisters in years, but to her, Bronwyn looked the same, just slightly older. Chestnut-brown hair like Stinson’s and pale-blue eyes like her mother’s.
Lady Borne was a different story. Though she could not express public distaste for her stepson, now duke, who had arrived on the heels of the influential Dowager Duchess of Embry, her lip had curled into the slightest sneer when they’d greeted her. Ravenna had recoiled from the venom in the woman’s gaze as her eyes settled on Courtland. It was not something Ravenna had ever noticed before. Years before, she recalled the marchioness and her children mourning Courtland’s death, observed all traditions and sorrowfully accepted condolences from their peers.
This seething contempt was new. Or perhaps simply new to her.
“What is Lady Borne’s quarrel with you?” she whispered to Courtland as he escorted her down the marble stairs.
“Besides stealing her son’s coronet?”
She paused midstep. “It’s yours. You were always Ashvale’s heir. Even if they thought you were dead, you’re clearly not, and the title belongs to you.”
“Haven’t you heard a word I’ve said, Ravenna?” he asked softly. “They claimed me dead when I was not, and my stepmother has always hated me for taking the position she desired for her own son. The only surprise here is why it was never formalized. Perhaps they were waiting for the old duke to die. Trust me, my being out of the way was no hardship for either of them. It was a windfall.”
Ravenna blinked. “That’s not true.”
