Page 66 of Unraveled By the Duke
“A picture is worth a thousand words, they say,” she said.
“But pictures are fixed. Words can suggest, or leave to the imagination, far more exciting notions than a picture could ever communicate,” Lavinia opined.
“I do not care for this conversation,” Lady Alvey sniffed and raised her chin. “A man who makes a living scribbling is not a gentleman. Nor is one who makes a living scratching out pictures. Artists and writers are not gentlemen and should not be among the acquaintances of respectable young ladies.”
“Oh, Petula, what about men like Shakespeare?” Edna asked.
“A fine Englishman, but not a gentleman. I would forbid Lavinia from marrying him if he were alive now and seeking her hand, no matter his fame. In fact, I wouldn’t let her marry himbecauseof his fame.”
Celia listened as the cards were dealt and the two elder ladies discussed the respectability or otherwise of the artistic type. Lady Alvey knew that Celia was one of those artistic types. Celiatook her critique as a personal attack, but she was most incensed by Lavinia’s words.
She is telling me that she is behind the gossip that has found its way into the scandal sheets. I am certain of it. First, she needles me with her knowledge of Alexander. Then, she tells me she has the means to spread more lies about me. What does she want? Alexander?
Jealousy burned within Celia, hot and bright. The idea of Alexander and Lavinia together seared her to the marrow. But along with that was the fear of losing her sister.
I will show you, Lavinia. Aurelia will see the truth. You will not take my sister away from me. Or my husband.
“You should know, Scovell, that I have the means to set the record straight concerning Aurelia. I have more than one contact who can influence the opinion of the ton, steer them from one to another,” Alexander said.
He was seated in Cornelius Frid’s study. The room was comfortably appointed and full of military regalia. Cornelius had offered him a glass of excellent brandy and a cigar before taking a position before the fire. Alexander sat in an armchair to the side.
Cornelius stood with legs braced apart, a glass of brandy on the mantelpiece, one hand holding his cigar to his lips, the other clasped behind him. He looked every inch the army officer.
“That is gratifying to hear. I would not have Aurelia blot her copybook so early in her social life. Miss Dunnings has been beside herself for not guiding Aurelia better. She has become a surrogate sister to my younger daughter.”
“Your daughter has a sister, and she resides a short carriage ride away,” Alexander pointed out.
Cornelius looked at him, his eyebrows drawing down. “What am I to think of that sister when I am presented with this?”
He reached into a pocket and took out a folded piece of paper. He handed it to Alexander, who opened it and read its contents.
“Note the date on that rag. It was printed two days ago. This is new gossip, new scandal. To suggest that my daughter went away in order to… That her mother and I would…” Cornelius shook his head. “Were you aware of this?” he asked.
Alexander tore the page several times before rising to throw the pieces into the fire. “I was not, but it does not matter. It will be dealt with in the same way I am dealing with the scandal involving your other daughter.”
“At the risk of sounding rude, Your Grace, you were the man found beneath my daughter. Discovered in a compromising position. How am I to trust your word?”
“Because I am the Duke of Cheverton,” Alexander snapped. “Because I made a vow before God and witnesses to defend your daughter when I took her as my wife. I do not know how much store you or anyone else sets by the marriage you witnessed, but those vows guide me. I am a man of honor. If I were not, I would have walked away from your daughter and your whole dratted family.”
He knew he was speaking harshly and could see that Cornelius was battling his own anger, trying to pay the respect that Alexander’s rank was due. But questioning his honor was a sore point.
But then, have I not employed Archibald Wainwright to besmirch my reputation when it suited me? When I wished to appear as a worthless rake to protect my father’s memory. I cannot blame a man for questioning my integrity when I have employed a competent man to undermine it publicly. Damnation, but this is a wretched bind to be in. Father, why did you have to be so damnably generous?!
“I apologize if I have caused offense. I speak as a father,” Cornelius murmured.
“And I as a husband,” Alexander retorted. “And on that subject, I am taking Celia to my solicitor to show her my accounts. She willshortly be able to confirm to you that her dowry is safe. I thought you should know that.”
Cornelius reached for his brandy and knocked it back in one swallow. “That is well. I had not thought of it, to be honest. The scandals that seem to be following my children were of greater concern.”
Alexander was surprised to feel a tinge of guilt. He did not know where it had come from. His priority had always been Hyacinth.
She is my sister, not just my half sister. Damn the fact that we have different mothers.
But now he felt guilty about bringing up the subject of money. It was as though he were admitting that he did not care for Celia except for the money she brought to his coffers.
I did not feel guilty about the prospect of marrying Lavinia for money. Not one iota. So why do I shy away from regarding Celia the same way?
The mere thought of her quickened his pulse and breathing. He could not look at her without seeing her as he had the night they had made love. Seeing her pale femininity. Her lean, soft limbs. Round hips and full breasts.
