Page 16 of The Duke of Seduction
“If you call marriage success.” There was an unmistakable edge of disdain to Miss Pemberton’s tone.
“You aren’t in favor of marriage?”
Miss Pemberton shrugged. “I hate that we judge a woman’s ‘success’ by her ability to wed.”
Lavinia stopped short and angled herself toward Miss Pemberton. “It’s as if we were separated at birth.”
Miss Pemberton laughed. “Except your hair is much darker and you are much taller than me.”
“Only a few inches,” Lavinia said, smiling. She turned, and they started walking once more. “I really am glad Miss Stewart is happy. That’s really all that matters. What other people think doesn’t matter.”
With a nod, Miss Pemberton tugged at the necklace adorning her throat. “I agree. I do hope Miss Lennox is happy too.”
“We should find out.” Lavinia frowned. “Not that it matters if she isn’t. Since she’s betrothed, she’s as good as married.”
“That’s certainly true.” Miss Pemberton exhaled. “Society’s rules are terrible, aren’t they? Just look at the Duke of Kilve and the Duchess of Romsey. Their betrothal crumbled, and it didn’t seem to bother either one of them—or their new spouses. Yet, they’ve been the center of all manner of speculative gossip.” She was speaking of Lavinia’s friend Diana.
“Actually, I know all the parties involved,” Lavinia said. “They are as happy as anyone could be.”
Miss Pemberton’s fair brows climbed with interest. “You know them? I’m so delighted to hear things ended up as they should have done.”
“Yes, though that won’t stop a certain portion of Society from being malicious about it.” At least that was what Lavinia expected. Already, she’d heard mumblings about Diana and her husband—and Kilve and his wife, who was a lovely woman Lavinia had met last fall.
“They love fresh gossip—the more salacious, the better. I’m sorry to say your friend may be in for a rough patch.” Miss Pemberton let out a soft chuckle. “On the other hand, it will take some of the focus off us.”
Lavinia would never wish her friend to suffer in her place, but recognized that Miss Pemberton could be right.
“Actually, I should thank you,” Miss Pemberton said. “When your poem appeared last week, things relaxed a bit for me. My mother wasn’t happy about it, however.” Her tone said she cared not one whit.
Lavinia laughed. “Glad I could help.” She squinted across the drawing room as they neared their starting point. “Who do you suppose he is?”
“The Duke of Seduction?” Miss Pemberton joined her in searching the throng. “I’ve tried to work it out, but I can’t imagine who would write like that. Unless Lord Byron has stolen back into London without anyone noticing.”
Lavinia laughed again. “Thatwould not go unnoticed.”
“Certainly not,” Miss Pemberton said with a grin. “I will let you know if I discern any clues. Ihavelooked.”
“I find myself listening intently to gentlemen, trying to determine if they speak in a similar cadence.”
Miss Pemberton nodded enthusiastically. “I do the same. Unfortunately, the gentlemen think I’m terribly interested, which is usually not the case.” She flashed another smile that made Lavinia laugh.
“I wonder why we haven’t become friends before now,” Lavinia said. “You must call me Lavinia. You are welcome to join me and my friends Miss Sarah Colton and Miss Frances Snowden anytime.”
Miss Pemberton appeared genuinely surprised and pleased. “Thank you. My mother tends to keep me on a rather short tether, but since the poems, she’s begun to let me loose. She reasons that I need to be accessible to suitors. Whatever that means.”
“Good heavens, she isn’t trying to see you compromised?”
“No.” Miss Pemberton cocked her head to the side. “At least I couldn’t imagine her doing such a thing. She’s a terrible prude. Honestly, I’ve long since given up on trying to understand her. We couldn’t be more dissimilar.”
Lavinia thought of her own mother and how she’d never even tried to understand Lavinia’s interests. Occasionally, her father talked to her about scientific matters, but such conversations always stopped when her mother entered the room. “Yes, we were definitely separated at birth.”
Miss Pemberton’s light laughter floated around them as she withdrew her arm from Lavinia’s. “Then, dear sister, you must call me Jane. And now I see my mother is giving me an eye that bodes disaster. Until next time.” She waggled her brows, then took herself off.
Lavinia’s mother approached at that moment and immediately swept her in the other direction. “There you are, dear. I’ve someone to introduce you to.” They reached the opposite side of the drawing room, where a man of middling height with a wide face dominated by a pair of thick, dark brows stood with her father.
“There you are,” Father said with a smile. “Sir Martin Riddock, allow me to present my daughter, Lady Lavinia.”
Lavinia curtsied to the gentleman, who was perhaps nearing his middle thirties. “Pleased to meet you, Sir Martin.”
