Page 12 of The Duke's Second Bride
He felt a slight pang of pity towards Lady Dunfair. It couldn’t have been pleasant to have been married to such a man.
Still, that didn’t excuse her rudeness. Nor her presumptuousness in approaching Luke. Even if she was kind to his son, Christian knew he ought to be protecting Luke from the attentions of strangers, particularly ones with such bad reputations. Whatever truth there was or wasn’t to the rumors surrounding Lady Dunfair, it would do Luke no good to be associated with her.
“I will let it slide this once,” he said to Mary.
“Thank you, my lord.”
“But in the future,” he said, glancing at Luke, then immediately back at Mary, trying to erase the image of his son’s disappointed face. “I expect you not to let strangers around my son. No matter how affable they may be.”
CHAPTER 6
“Are you enjoying yourself?” Edith asked for the fourth or fifth time.
Ava rolled her eyes kindly at her friend’s tendency to over-worry. “As I said previously, yes. I promise, I am having quite a good time. Who couldn’t, in such beautiful surroundings?” she continued, gesturing at the climbing gardenia, the pinks and reds of the azaleas, and the blooming rhododendron bushes that had been carefully cultivated around the Aberton estate.
“Of course. I’m sorry. I don’t mean to bother you. It’s just that you’ve been so quiet since that day at the modiste,” Edith said. “More than usual.”
Ava felt her heart sink. An entire week had passed since her encounter with Brandon, but she had yet to tell her best friend. After all, what good would it do? What would Edith be able to do to help her?
“I don’t mean to worry you,” she began, in an attempt to smooth things over. “I simply don’t have much to speak of,” she lied. “You know I lead quite a quiet life.”
Edith smiled. “Yes,” she said, clearly mollified by the excuse. “You certainly do. I’m most grateful you allowed me to drag you out today.”
“It is I who is grateful to you,” Ava said. “If you hadn’t dragged me out, as you say, however would I have occupied my afternoon?”
As they continued walking, Ava heard the indiscreet whispers around them.
“It is a pity seeing those two out and about. No woman should be widowed so young,” one lady said.
“At least dear sweet Edith is well-engaged with charities and good causes about the ton,” another said. “I can’t imagine what Lady Dunfair does all day.”
“Really, Madge, be kind. After all, she does not even have the benefit of children to remember her husband by.”
“And whose fault is that?” another voice cut in sharply.
“I’m sure we can’t completely excuse the blame from the late Lord Dunfair. He certainly spent more time outdoors than at home with his wife, where he belonged.”
“I heard she was so frigid, she refused to let him touch her, and refused to have children,” someone else responded. “Is it any wonder he had to find comfort in the arms of others? And if she had enticed him to stay at home more, perhaps he wouldn’t have fallen victim to that terrible hunting accident.”
The crowd nearby burst into gasps and titters. “Can you believe it?” “How shocking!” “Well, if I had known that sooner, I certainly would have given Lady Dunfair a piece of my mind …”
Edith turned, about to say something, but Ava grabbed her arm. “No,” she said quickly. “Don’t. Just let them be.”
Edith turned back to her, face wracked with indignation. “You can’t expect me to sit by and let them say such awful things about you! I don’t understand how you can listen to them.”
“Please, Edith. For my sake.” Ava looked at her with pleading eyes until Edith nodded, relenting. She felt herself relax with relief. “Thank you. Forgive me. I think I need to take a moment for myself.”
Before Edith could protest, she turned and began to walk briskly away from the crowd.
The garden party was already in full bloom when Christian and Luke arrived. He noticed several of the ladies about the grounds marking his entrance. As a young widower of title and financialmeans, he knew he would be a popular mark by several of the overbearing mothers of the ton once debutante season came about.
When some of their eyes fell upon Luke, he tensed up.
He had expected that having a son would deter some of the parents of the ton from wanting to pair their daughters with his household—after all, any children they bore would be after Luke in the line of inheritance. But rather than dissuading anyone, instead, people seemed to see Luke as an easy way to curry favor with the Duke of Richmond.
Sure enough, a gaggle of women immediately approached Luke and him.
“Your Grace,” one of them said, sweeping into an overdramatic curtsy. “And this must be your son! What a delightful boy. What is your name, son?”
