Page 8 of The Duplicate Duke
“I would be happy to, in private,” agreed Miles.Graham was a handsome man, in an odd way.He wasn’t quite masculine, probably due to his age, yet not effeminate.“Our societal constrictions may be a bit more confining than what you are used to.”
Lady Greywood sat up, covered a yawn, then nodded.“Oui, I’m afraid I haven’t educated him on therules.I shall begin immediately.”She leaned forward and patted her son’s knee.“You really should call him Wickton, my dear.Dropping ‘Lord’ still provides an intimacy without using his given name.And he would most likely be more comfortable calling you Shackerley once the matter is settled.”
“Settled?”
Miles noted the marchioness’s slight French accent, then explained, “Yes, you still need to be recognized as the true heir.We will submit the needed documents to the Attorney General.Once he has confirmed their authenticity, you will legally be the Duke of Shackerley.There is nothing wrong with using the title now since we shouldn’t have any impediments, according to my research and the investigation by O’Brien’s men.”
His cousin went pale as he addressed his mother.“We have documents?”
“The marriage contract, of course, and a family bible given to your father by his mother.Your birth is recorded in it, along with your sister.”The marchioness cast her emerald-green eyes on Miles.“Will that be sufficient?”
“I believe so, added to the timeline I’ve created and the engraving on the marquess’s gravestone ofhusband and father.”Miles grinned at his cousin.“Once you have the social protocol down, I think you’ll be quite popular.The half-English duke raised in America and born from a forbidden love match.”
“It does sound romantic,” murmured Shackerley.“How odd.My life has been quite the opposite until now.”
“Well, I hope it’s a change for the better.”Miles peered out of the carriage.“Here’s the hotel.I arranged for your rooms to be together, and a cold repast and hot water for a bath will be sent up as soon as we arrive.We will meet tonight for dinner in a private dining room.”
“That sounds wonderful.You are too kind,” said Shackerley, adding with an impish grin, “Wickton.”
The duke’s smile was infectious, and Miles grinned back, slapping his cousin on the shoulder.“You’re a quick learner.”
* * *
It took allof Gwen’s strength not to fall forward when the viscount slapped her from behind.Her mind was crowded with thoughts of this handsome man, documents, her mother, andrules.Why hadn’t her mother prepared her for this on the ship?
She inspected the sumptuous hotel, with thick red wool carpet that led across the lobby, gleaming planks where the carpet did not reach, plaster pillars, and large windows looking out onto the street.The late afternoon sun spilled through the panes, dust motes dancing in the light.Gwen blinked, saw her mother approaching the large staircase in front of them, adjusted her hat, and followed.They were taken to rooms on the second floor.
Their chambers were lavish as well.Her room had a large four-poster bed, forest-green bed curtains, and a matching counterpane.There was a wardrobe for her clothes, which had not arrived yet, a side table holding a pitcher and basin with a framed mirror above it, and a small table with two chairs.The fireplace took up the wall opposite the bed, a metal tub sitting before it lined with bleached linen.
A tattoo on the door signaled her trunks had arrived.She let the young man in, and when he walked back to the hallway, she followed him to her mother’s room.
“Mama?”she called.“Your trunk is here.”
“Come in, dear,” came a muffled voice.
“Will we ever get used to such surroundings?”Gwen asked when they were alone, peering about the bedroom similar to hers but in a deep rose color.“Wereyouever used to such luxury?”
“When I was young.It seems like another lifetime,” she answered.“In France, my father was acomteand wealthy.But when we escaped the Terror, our family fled with practically nothing.We relied on the charity of others once in England.I was a naïve young girl with fanciful thoughts of dances and finding love.”
“Is that why the duke was against the marriage?Because you were French?”she asked, seeing her mother in a new light.
“Oui, he detested the French, and the Revolution only increased his hatred.I met your father at Hyde Park on a Sunday in June.He was the most handsome man I’d ever met, a prime buck, indeed.”Her mother’s eyes sparkled at the memory, a smirk pulling at the corners of her mouth.“And a peacock if I ever saw one.”
Gwen laughed.“You changed that?”
Her mother shook her head.“Non, I’m afraid life did.Your father had some funds when we left England, but he wanted to invest in a timber business, so we learned to be frugal.”
“He’s quite handsome,” Gwen said nonchalantly, walking to the window and pulling back the curtain.“And kind.”
“The viscount?It’s a shame you’re a male, for you might have charmed him.”Her other raised one dark brow.“I wonder what he’ll think when he finds out?”
“He won’t until Graham is found.And then it won’t matter, for he is the actual duke.”Gwen spun around, remembering she was upset with Mama.“Why didn’t you warn me about all these details?At least living in America gives me an excuse to be ignorant of the English customs.But still!”
“I am sorry, sweet daught—I will have to watch that, won’t I?”Mama chuckled.“You’re a quick study.It’s not so difficult, and any mistakes will be attributed to your upbringing.I was going to educate you on the ship, but I was so busy dealing with a revolting stomach…”
Gwen rushed across the room and threw her arms around her mother.“I know.I’ve thrown us into this debacle and have no right to reprimand you.”She kissed the older woman’s cheek.“Thank you for going along with this.I realize now I couldn’t have done it without you.”
“We haven’t accomplished anything yet except escaping that horrid ship.”
