Page 45 of Miss Prim and the Duke of Wylde
Alison sighed. “I wish that were so, but at present, none of us know what it is that Hubert is objecting to. This only came up yesterday evening, when Hubert arrived at a family dinner intended to introduce Joshua to the wider family. Papa had already informed Hubert of Joshua’s offer and hadn’t received any hint that Hubert would oppose it, but Hubert arrived just before the rest and insisted, with much huffing and puffing, that it wouldn’t be socially wise to announce our betrothal publicly, not at this time, given you and Drago have only just announced your engagement.”
Frowning, Alison shook her head. “It’s almost as if Hubert thinks the clock will somehow turn back and Drago might glance my way instead.” She looked at Meg. “It’s quite nonsensical.”
Meg’s pulse leapt.Could Hubert know…?
Trying to make sense of the situation, she asked, “Is Hubert’s approval essential?” She studied Alison’s face. “I thought your father and mother had agreed to Joshua’s suit.”
“They did, but these days, both tend to bend to accommodate Hubert’s views on most subjects. Although Mama has always had a soft spot for Joshua and we’re fairly confident of her support, Papa has taken the line that as Hubert will eventually inherit and become the head of the family, then his approval is needed as well.”
Alison heaved a sigh. “Don’t worry. Joshua and I are resolute. Ultimately, we’ll win through. We’ve decided to view Hubert’s opposition as nothing more than a temporary resistance, one Hubert will think better of soon enough.”
Her mind racing and her emotions in unexpected upheaval, Meg managed a reassuring smile. “I’m sure you’re right.”
At that moment, Lady Melwin summoned Alison with a beckoning hand, and she and Meg parted.
Meg drifted around the outskirts of the still-considerable crowd, sipping and putting into practice her and Drago’s proven tactic that as long as one kept moving, others were less inclined to confront one.
Twice during this single event, she’d been reminded that her engagement to Drago was a sham. That when they dissolved their engagement in June, she would no longer fill the position that had already come to fit her like a glove.
The challenge that everyone agreed she was perfectly qualified to meet would no longer be hers.
Nor would the satisfaction of meeting it any longer buoy her.
The purpose she’d unexpectedly found in Kent would be no more.
What am I going to do then?
What other purpose could she find? She wouldn’t even be in a position to meaningfully support the charity of her choice.
She told herself that her comprehension of all the above accounted for the sudden lurch in her spirits, the sensation of plunging low at the prospect of their sham engagement ending.
“Meg.”
She looked up as a delicate hand closed about her wrist, and she found herself facing Drago’s mother. A swift glance around showed that ladies had started to take their leave.
The duchess released her and waved down the room. “Come. Stroll with me a moment. I need to leave soon and would like to assure you of my support with regard to you becoming Drago’s duchess.”
Meg obediently started walking slowly beside the duchess, more or less against the tide heading for the drawing room door.
“Indeed,” the duchess continued, “I wanted to underscore how much I approve of my son’s choice.”
Meg’s wariness increased exponentially when the duchess met her eyes and added, “However he came to make it.”
Trapped in the duchess’s hazel gaze, Meg understood one thing.She knows.
As if confirming that, the duchess inclined her head and went on, “I know my son very well, my dear, and in light of that, I am absolutely, unequivocally certain that you are the very best bride for him.”
Despite her unease, Meg couldn’t not ask, “Why?”
“Primarily because of a number of attributes that are peculiar to you. First, of course, is your station. By birth, you are Drago’s peer, and that gives you a better than average understanding of him as well as entitling you to a degree of consideration from him that comes to him instinctively. You will stand by his side in a manner and with an assurance few young ladies could match. On top of that, there’s the undeniable fact that you have caught his eye and also his mind, his cerebral attention. That’s no mean feat, and I know of no other who has come even close to fixing his attention in that more meaningful way. Others might be physically alluring, but are unable to capture his interest on any other plane. And that neatly brings me to my last point.” Again, the duchess met Meg’s eyes. “You already stand up to him, entirely fearlessly, and he pays due attention to your opinions. He respects you and your insights. I cannot tell you how much that will mean in the years to come, only that it is a critical element in being the wife of a Duke of Wylde.”
The duchess’s lips curved, and she looked ahead. “They did not come by that title accidentally. It may have been bestowed in ancient times, but the family breeds true.”
“I see.” Meg tried to tamp down the welling desire—almost a hunger—to further explore all the duchess had alluded to.
“And as a parting point, I wanted to tell you that despite his reputation—which I assure you has been well earned—given all I’ve seen of how Drago reacts to you, once you are wed, he will be entirely and unwaveringly faithful to you, just as his father was to me. In that aspect as well, the Helmsford men breed true.”
Meg saw the fondness for both father and son that was, in that moment, visible in the duchess’s beautiful face and felt humbled and just a touch envious.
