Page 1 of His Forsaken Duchess
Prologue
“Audrey, I cannot believe your luck!” declared Grace Winslow, the Countess of Stonebridge, her hands folded neatly in her lap as she looked over the bride with an approving eye. “You are the envy of every unmarried lady in England.”
“I daresay the married ones too!” Lady Lilianna Winslow, the Countess’ middle daughter, said from her seat near the window.
Seated before the gilded vanity, Lady Audrey Winslow tilted her head as her lady’s maid inserted another pearl pin into her hair. The pearls caught the sunlight streaming through the high windows, lending her chignon an elegance that matched her pale pink wedding dress.
She gave her stepmother a polite smile through the mirror, the faintest twitch of amusement at the corners of her lips. “Is that what everyone is saying?”
“To marry a duke so young—and handsome, no less. It is a rarity, indeed. Most of the available men are either far too old or entirely lacking in charm.”
Lilianna let out a dramatic sigh as she folded her hands over her pale blue muslin skirt. “I cannot wait for my debut next Season. Who knows? Perhaps I, too, shall ensnare the heart of a duke. Though I suppose,” she added with a theatrical pout, “I might have to settle for a marquess, seeing as young dukes are a rarity.”
“By the time I come out, there won’t be a single duke left unattached, I am sure of it.” Their younger sister, Lady Clarise Winslow, sat cross-legged on the rug, leaning forward with the unguarded eagerness of youth.
“Three more years,” she lamented with an exaggerated groan. “But at least we have the vol-au-vents to look forward to. I heard that Cook had outdone herself for the wedding breakfast. I simply cannot wait to taste them!”
“Oh, there will be pineapples, too!” Lilianna said. “Everyone is talking about the pineapples and how rare of a delicacy they are!” She turned to Audrey. “They are still not as rare as your Duke.”
Audrey’s laugh was warm but restrained, her manner as poised as ever. “Perhaps rare delights are best savored when they come,” she replied, glancing at Clarise in the mirror. “I daresay there are many other titles to be considered.”
Clarise straightened, her expression earnest as she declared, “But none so grand as ‘Duchess.’ Truly, Audrey, you are the luckiest among us.”
“Let us not forget that such fortune requires meticulous planning,” Audrey said lightly, smoothing an invisible crease from the delicate lace cuff of her dress. Her gaze shifted to her stepmother. “Mama, the peony garlands—are they all in place as I instructed? Along the nave and the entryway?”
Grace rose from her chair with a soft laugh and crossed the room to place a reassuring hand on Audrey’s shoulder. “They are precisely where you wanted them, my dear. And the Camelias are perfectly arranged in their glass displays. Everything is exactly as you envisioned.”
Audrey exhaled, her shoulders relaxing a fraction. “Thank heavens. I could not bear to think of the arrangements appearing haphazard.”
Grace chuckled, giving Audrey’s shoulder a gentle pat. “You must not fret over these trifles, Audrey.”
“Trifles?” Audrey turned her head slightly, her gaze sharpening as she met her stepmother’s kind but amused eyes. “Mama, these are not trifles. A wedding is not merely an exchange of vows; it is a spectacle, a memory that will linger in the minds of all who attend. Every detail matters.”
“And the Duke?” Lilianna interjected, a teasing glint in her green eyes.
Audrey allowed her lips to curl into a faint smile, her expression composed as her maid carefully adjusted the last pin in her hair. Her reflection in the mirror betrayed nothing of her thoughts, yet inwardly, two words echoed with faint amusement:The Duke?
How could he possibly rival the wedding itself?The flowers, the music, the reception—all were planned to perfection. These are the details that will remain in memory, long after the vows are forgotten.
“I wonder,” Lilianna said, leaning forward conspiratorially, “if all the stories about him are true.”
“What stories?” Audrey asked, though her tone was dry, her eyebrow rising slightly.
“Oh, you must have heard them,” Lilianna replied with an air of delight. “They say he once fought a mountain lion and has the scars to prove it.”
Clarise’s eyes widened. “And that he spent a season aboard a pirate ship!” she added, her voice filled with awe and disbelief.
Audrey’s smile turned slightly sardonic as she turned her attention back to the mirror. “Surely the ton has not descended to spinning such wild fancies. A duke, of all people, consorting with pirates? Absurd.”
“And yet,” Lilianna persisted, her grin mischievous, “would it not be terribly romantic if it were true?”
“Romantic?” Audrey repeated. “Romance is a luxury afforded to poets and dreamers, not dukes bound by duty and propriety. The idea is as ridiculous as the notion of battling a mountain lion.”
Her sisters erupted into a chorus of laughter, their merriment filling the room. Audrey’s lips twitched with the faintest smile as she allowed the sound to wash over her, her gaze lingering on her reflection.
She looked every inch the composed Duchess-to-be, yet her thoughts danced elsewhere, far from the gossip and the man waiting for her at the altar.
The wedding—now, that is what truly matters. Although, I wonder if he will keep his promise…
