Page 41 of Miss Prim and the Duke of Wylde
“Such a wise choice, Your Grace.”
“Really, it’s hard to imagine how you might have chosen better.”
“An excellent choice that will stand you in good stead in the future.”
The same message came again and again, in slightly different words but with the one clear meaning, one not even he would deny.
Meg Cynster was an excellent choice for the position of his duchess.
Conversely, Alison Melwin—sweet, gentle, mild of manner, and generally faint of heart—could never have managed.
By the time they reached the end of the line, crossed the avenue, and started back along the other side, still being hailed, still doing the pretty by countless older ladies and grandes dames, he’d seen that truth in action, had it drummed repeatedly into his brain.
Courtesy of his self-limited interactions with the ton over the past decade and more, in now moving through the hallowed halls, he recognized enough gentlemen to get by, and he knew some of the ladies, but not enough to successfully navigate the shoals of ton expectations.
And as the Duke of Wylde, more than anything else he needed to be able to succeed in that.
Although he’d made no request of her, Meg seemed intuitively to have grasped his difficulty; in acknowledging every hail, she invariably used the lady’s name and title. And where the lady’s title was obscure or not particularly informative, Meg followed up with a question that gave him a clue as to how the lady fitted into the wider web of the ton.
The ton lived and breathed through connections, and Meg had everyone’s at her fingertips.
Previously, immersed in his hedonistic and largely private life, he hadn’t really thought about what his married life would be like, how it would differ from the life he’d led as a bachelor. How marriage would change the way he interacted with his world.
He was thinking of that now.
With the specter of his father’s will hanging like Damocles’s sword over his head, he had to face facts, namely, that he didn’t just need a wife. He needed therightwife.
A wife who could perform in the manner in which Meg currently was.
With the end of the second row of carriages in sight, he found himself viewing her through newly opened eyes.
Feeling far more entertained than she’d expected, Meg cast a teasingly amused look at Drago. “Almost there.”
He’d been studying her face, but now he looked ahead and grunted.
She laughed. “You sound just like my brothers and cousins.”
“All sane and sensible men.”
“Never mind.” Buoyed by unquenchable good humor, she patted his arm. “The ordeal is nearly over. Only Lady Conningham and then Lady Palmerston and we’re done.”
She steered Drago toward Lady Conningham’s carriage. As they drew near, she advised, “Don’t show any awareness of how loudly she speaks. She’s rather deaf—you just have to talk at the same level, but pretend all is normal.”
As they approached her carriage, Lady Conningham waved her cane by way of summons.
Meg sensed Drago’s instinctive resistance but, smiling, towed him to the carriage’s side. “Lady Conningham! You are looking well!”
“Thank you, my dear!” her ladyship boomed. She nodded to Drago. “Your Grace. I understand you’ve managed to convince this young lady that her place is by your side.” Her ladyship snorted. “About time someone did! And that applies to both of you!”
Meg countered, “We’re happy our proposed union meets with your approval, ma’am.”
“P’shaw!” Smiling herself, Lady Conningham waved them away. “I can see Emily over there just waiting to pounce, so you’d better get on, or she’ll frown at me over afternoon tea.”
Meg bobbed, and Drago—who looked as entertained as she but trying to hide it—bowed elegantly, eliciting another loud snort from her ladyship.
As Lady Conningham had noted, seated in splendid state two carriages along, Lady Palmerston’s gaze was, indeed, trained on them.
Short, sweet-faced, with slightly protuberant soft-blue eyes, Emily Temple, Viscountess Palmerston, appeared the epitome of everyone’s favorite aunt, yet she was one of the original patronesses of Almack’s, had buried one husband in Lord Cowper, and had subsequently married her great love, Palmerston. She was widely appreciated as having sound sense, delicate sensibilities, great beauty as well as charm, all linked with shrewdness and devoted loyalty to her husband’s cause, political and personal.
