Page 82 of His Forsaken Duchess
“And I know when you are being insufferable,” he muttered, but there was no real heat in his tone.
They walked in companionable silence for a few steps, the tension of their earlier days together gradually replaced by something far more… natural. Audrey had never imagined that bickering with her husband could be so enjoyable. It was almost a game now, and Cedric, despite his stoic exterior, was an excellent opponent.
Just as Audrey was beginning to enjoy herself fully, fate intervened in the most unwelcome of ways.
“Why, Audrey!”
The voice, too sweet to be sincere, cut through the air like a blade, and her spine stiffened instinctively. She stopped, her gaze snapping to the source of the interruption. Lady Weatherby. And beside her was Lady Allenham.
The very women who claimed to be her friends, only to desert her in her hour of need.
Twenty-Eight
Lady Weatherby and Lady Allenham fluttered nervously as they approached Audrey and Cedric with excessively adorned bonnets and silk dresses that screamed of ostentation rather than taste.
Audrey forced a smile, cool and polite. “Martha,” she greeted, her voice deliberately crisp. “What a surprise.”
Lady Weatherby’s lips curled into a smile that did not reach her sharp eyes. “What a delightful coincidence,” she cooed, though her calculating gaze flicked to Cedric.
“Indeed,” Lady Allenham added weakly, though she appeared to be studying her shoes more than anything else.
Cedric’s grip on Audrey’s arm shifted subtly, his stillness a steadying force at her side. She knew he would not intervene—not yet—but his presence lent her courage.
“I must admit,” Audrey said lightly, “I am surprised to see the two of you. I had thought you were quite busy.”
Lady Weatherby’s expression faltered ever so slightly. “Wearebusy, of course. The Season has been relentless. You must know how it is.”
“Yes,” Audrey replied, her smile unwavering. “Quite relentless. It does take considerable effort to keep track of everyone’s misfortunes, does it not?”
The barb landed, its meaning obvious.
Lady Weatherby’s smile faltered completely now, her hands tightening around the handle of her reticule. “Now, Audrey?—”
Audrey held up a hand, her expression softening only slightly, though her voice carried enough steel to slice through the façade. “Please, do not trouble yourselves with explanations. I assure you, I need none.”
Lady Allenham turned red, glancing nervously between Audrey and Lady Weatherby. “We only wished to extend?—”
“Do not bother,” Audrey interrupted. “You needn’t invite me to your ball, nor concern yourselves with my attendance. I will not be there.”
The silence that followed was sharp and brittle. Lady Weatherby’s mask cracked further, her mouth twitching as though she wished to protest but could not find the words.
Audrey’s voice softened, though her tone left no room for argument. “I have no interest in friendships built on convenience, Martha. I have learned to remember who stood with me when it mattered and who did not.”
For the briefest moment, Lady Weatherby looked as though she might respond, but Cedric chose that moment to speak.
“Is there a problem, Lady Weatherby?” His voice was deceptively mild, but the warning beneath it was definite.
Lady Weatherby blanched, her eyes darting toward him before dropping to the ground. “Of course not, Your Grace,” she murmured hurriedly. “We were just leaving.”
“Indeed, we were,” Lady Allenham squeaked, tugging on Lady Weatherby’s arm as though she might flee at any moment.
Both women muttered strained farewells and retreated with as much dignity as they could muster, their skirts swishing furiously as they went.
Audrey watched them go, satisfaction curling low in her chest. She turned to Cedric, who regarded her with a faintly quizzical expression. “Who were they?” he asked.
“Lady Weatherby and Lady Allenham,” Audrey replied with a sigh. “Once, they were my friends. We did everything together—afternoon teas, charity balls, outings.”
“Charity balls. How noble,” Cedric scoffed, his disdain evident.
