Page 12 of The Design of Dukes
“Rosalind.” Romy waved her fork in Rosalind’s direction and mouthed, “I shall never forgive you.”
Rosalind shrugged and mouthed back. “I had no choice.”
“I should love a house party,” Phaedra said happily.
“Oh no, dear.” Cousin Winnie shook her head, graying ringlets dangling at her temples. “You’re far too young for such a thing. Only Andromeda and Theodosia.” She stopped. “With your permission, of course, Amanda.”
Romy’s mother stopped picking at her plate. “You have it if the girls wish to attend, which I’m certain they do. I am acquainted with Lady Molsin, though I’ve not spoken to her in ages.”
“She’s throwing the house party to celebrate the expected engagement of her nephew, but there will be several eligible gentlemen in attendance, including the Earl of Blythe.”
Theo’s fork slid from her fingers, propelling a pea into Romy’s cheek.
“Theo,” she said quietly watching the pea bounce and roll beneath her chair. “Whatever is wrong with you?”
“She’s pelted you with peas,” Phaedra whispered in a sing-song voice. “Because of Blythe. You don’t know because you’ve been at the modiste’s and not the park.”
“Not another word.” Romy didn’t bother to ask how Phaedra knew about Madame Dupree. There were few secrets between the sisters and Olivia. It was a struggle to keep anything quiet. “You will say nothing of that,” she hissed under her breath.
Phaedra’s attention returned to her plate.
“I should love to attend, Mama.” Theo addressed her mother. “If Cousin Winnie is certain of our welcome.”
“Yes, of course. You and Andromeda would be graciously received. Don’t you think so, Rosalind?”
Rosalind nodded.
Romy glared at her cousin, who refused to meet her eyes. She’d no desire to attend a bloody house party; the family had only just returned to London. At least a dozen new sketches sat in her portfolio upstairs just waiting for Madame Dupree. Now was not the time to dash off to the country, especially since she was now asilentpartner in a modiste’s shop.
“Perhaps Theo should go—” she started, deciding to decline the invitation.
Another pea hit her cheek. This time deliberately.
“Romy and I would be delighted to attend, Cousin Winnie.” Theo gave their cousin a demure look, which wascompletelyout of character. Theo hadn’t been demure a day in her life. “Thank you for your kind invitation.”
Struggling not to choke on her lamb, Romy whispered to Theo, “I don’t wish to go.”
Romy had assumed her sister had gotten over her girlish adoration of the Earl of Blythe. Apparently not. And something had happened in the park which she wasn’t aware of.
“Wonderful.” Cousin Winnie clapped her hands again. “I shall inform Lady Molsin, who will be thrilled, I’m sure. We’ll have such fun. There’s even to be a ball the final night. Lots of dancing with dashing,eligiblegentlemen. Even Lord Torrington will be in attendance.” She cast a meaningful glance at her daughter.
Rosalind rolled her eyes while stabbing at the peas on her plate. “He’s much too old for me.”
“Distinguished, darling.” Cousin Winnie’s smile tightened. “And an earl. Perhaps more than one announcement will be made.”
Poor Rosalind. It appeared Cousin Winnie had already decided on a match for her.
“And I’m certain the dance is only an excuse to make an official announcement of the duke’s impending marriage. He’s taken Lady Beatrice for a ride in Hyde Park, and he escorted her and her mother, Lady Foxwood, while shopping several weeks ago. Both are sure signs an announcement is forthcoming.”
“The duke?” Romy said carefully, dread mixing with the lamb to form a ball in her stomach.
“Well, yes. Haven’t you been listening?” Cousin Winnie appeared confused. “I’m sure I mentioned it. The Duke of Granby. Lady Molsin is his aunt. He’s been seen in the company of Lady Beatrice Howard, so I’m certain an announcement will be made soon. Very likely at the house party. Isn’t it exciting?”
The ball in Romy’s stomach hardened to stone, and she put down her fork.
“Granby?” Mama’s brow wrinkled.
“Yes.ThatGranby.” Cousin Winnie nodded while her eyes floated over Romy, her sisters, and Rosalind. “The son of that mostunfortunateunion.”
