Page 1 of The Phantom Duke
CHAPTER 1
“Atoast to Maria, the bravest woman in London!”
Evelina Burville raised the toast and was echoed enthusiastically by all the women of the Corset Chronicle Club. The object of their praise blushed at the attention. Maria had brown hair and eyes, a heart-shaped face with a button nose and a smattering of freckles. She smiled, a charming expression which illuminated her face and drew attention to her delicately curved lips.
“I think you love hyperbole a little too much, Evelina,” she said.
“Nonsense. This is no place for false modesty,” Anna Madden, Duchess of Wutherton said, deep brown eyes sparkling.
“Not false, Anna. It was hardly a triumph, I simply gave the man the freedom he’d already taken,” Maria replied.
Though Anna and Evelina, as a duchess and dowager countess respectively, outranked Maria, there was a standing rule in the Corset Chronicles Club that rank not be recognized. All members were women and of equal status.
“Merely, realistic,” Maria continued. “I do not see what was so brave in what I did. My father does not see bravery. He thinks I have insulted him and the Marquess of Landsdowne both, as well as harming myself.”
“You protected yourself against two men who were determined to rule your destiny!” Anna said with passion. “It is long past time that men understood that women are not property to be disposed of as they see fit.”
Theodora, Evelina’s sister, nodded in agreement.
“The Marquess of Landsdowne was a philanderer and a liar. It would have been harder and braver of me by far to go through with the marriage simply to please my father,” Maria said. “Now, I am free. But I thank you, my sisters, for the praise. It bolsters my heart to know that you support my decision.”
And I will need all the moral support I can find to face my father once he has tried to drown his anger in wine. I have faced his anger when sober, but later will have to face it when he’s drunk.
She finished the last mouthful of the biting brandy that Evelina had served them all.
“Now that we have concluded our toast and managed our friend’s undue modesty. I should like to hear the story of how she escaped the adulterous clutches of the Marquess of Landsdowne!” Anna proclaimed, “Maria, the floor is yours.”
The other two women echoed her sentiments, clapping for Maria.
Maria thought of all the times in the last few weeks that she had been reluctant to share stories of her time with her betrothed. Reluctant because of her fear that they would see through to the heart of the matter, that he was entirely unsuitable for her. For any woman actually.
She thought of the balls and society events at which he had been, in his words, appreciating the aesthetics of the other beautiful women. Or of the times that he had vanished from her sight, even failing to meet her at an appointed time and place, later presenting her with an excuse that she had accepted.
I should have sent him away at the first excuse. Should have seen right through it, but I think I wanted to feel… something. Expected to feel something.
She had felt embarrassed that she had not seen through him. Now she felt nothing but the lifting of an immense weight. A liberation.
“Well, I had suspected for a short time that something was amiss. He had seemed reluctant at times to meet with me. At first, the reasons seemed plausible. He said that his estatesrequired his attention and that he needed to spend a week in the country addressing his accounts. Or he said that family affairs had called him away, that I wouldn’t want him to ignore the needs of his family, would I?”
The gathered ladies laughed as Maria slipped into a competent imitation of Landsdowne’s Yorkshire accent and low, husky voice. It was a skill she had discovered in her childhood and enjoyed making them all laugh with it.
“He was supposed to be coming to tea and bringing his mother with him. The staff and I spent all morning ensuring that everything was perfect for his arrival. Mrs. Fogarty slaved over an exquisite cake, making it three-tiered with lemon curd filling and frosting. I made certain that we had his favorite blend of tea and foxgloves decorating the drawing room because they are his favorite flower. I spent the entire morning in a state of distress, fretful that I might miss some small detail! And after all that fretting and difficult work, he sent a note. A note!”
They all looked suitably disapproving. Maria calmed herself. Telling the story aroused her ire all over again, and she was determined that he would not elicit any more negative emotions from her.
“He sent a note,” she continued, “to cry off, saying that his mother was ill. But I knew that was untrue—I had spent the previous evening with her myself! I say, do you think a cup of tea could be rustled up? This brandy has quite dried out my mouth.”
Evelina reached for a delicate silver bell and gave it a tinkle. A servant promptly entered the room, and tea was requested.
“Where was I?” Maria asked, “Oh yes. So, I decided to go to Landsdowne House and have it out with him once and for all.”
Evelina and Anna cheered, and Maria beamed in response, enjoying their attention and approval both.
“When I got there, do you know what I found?” she asked.
“I can imagine, but do go on,” Evelina said.
“Suffice to say, he was not alone, and his mother was neither ill nor in residence. I do not know who she was, but neither she nor he were particularly apologetic.” Maria said.
