Page 58 of The Duke of Seduction
If Lavinia didn’t know better, she’d think her parents would gain some sort of prize for marrying her off with the utmost haste. Their urgency coupled with their deviousness was wholly disturbing. She exhaled with sudden weariness and decided shedidneed a rest—from her parents. “Yes, Mother, I must do many things. And I’m confident you’ll ensure I do them.”
She swept from the room, her back rigid, and vowed to look to the future where, no matter what, she wouldn’t have to deal with them anymore.
* * *
The past fewdays had been a whirlwind of activity. Beck had promenaded with Lavinia in the park twice and danced with her at a ball once. He’d also watched as Sir Martin had paid her specific attention, along with two other gentlemen. He tried not to watch too closely because it made him distinctly uncomfortable.
He didn’t see the point in exploring why that was, so he didn’t.
Meanwhile, Felix had organized the picnic of the Season. A multitude of vehicles and riders on horseback descended upon a green space near the Charlton Sand Pit early Thursday afternoon.
Lavinia was already there—Beck knew from the planning that she was to be one of the first to arrive. She’d taken up a position near an exposed wall of rock and dirt in the sand pit. It was a beautiful stratification of bands of varying texture and color. Throughout the afternoon, she talked with people about the history of those bands, sometimes going deep into discussion about the potential age of the Earth. Some people shook their head with doubt, but most were fascinated by her knowledge.
Beck was a bit infatuated. Was there anything more attractive than an intelligent woman? He didn’t think so. One of the reasons he’d fallen so hard and so fast for Priscilla had been her intellect. Her father was a scholar at Oxford, and she’d learned from him and his colleagues. She wasn’t a scientist like Lavinia, but a literary historian. Her love of words was part of what had inspired Beck to write.
The young spring day was cloudy but not cold, and, thankfully, dry, which made it a perfect occasion to spend time outdoors. The picnic area was a bit rambunctious. Felix had set up a shuttlecock net and bowls, and a group was currently playing a rousing game of blind man’s bluff.
Beck watched the festivities with amusement but didn’t particularly want to join in. What he wished he could do was sit beneath a tree and play his guitar. But of course he hadn’t brought it and never would. Not to an event such as this. Not to any event.
“Excuse me, my lord?” A feminine voice drew him to turn. The woman addressing him was tall with light brown eyes and a charming smile. He recognized her as the Duchess of Kendal.
Beck offered her a gallant bow. “Good afternoon, Your Grace.”
“Good afternoon. We met at the Kilves’ dinner party.”
“I remember.”
“You spoke with my husband that night—he told me of your conversation. I hope you don’t think me presumptuous, but I wanted to tell you I did meet your sister. Lady Helen was a kind and gentle soul. I’m sorry to hear she passed. I did wonder what had happened to her, but I lost touch with nearly everyone after I left town.”
Beck tensed upon hearing the duchess had known Helen, but relaxed slightly at her compassionate recollection. “Thank you for your kind words.”
“That was a nasty Season.” A slight tremor flitted across her shoulders. “Not just what happened to me—though, in hindsight, several of the gentlemen seemed rather predatory.”
Beck thought of the man Helen had mentioned in her letter. Had he behaved like that? “It seems as though it was very competitive.”
“Quite. Some of the young ladies could be ruthless in their pursuit of matrimony.”
He nodded in agreement. “That was my impression. My sister mentioned a couple of those women, but only by their initials—SW and DC. I don’t suppose you recall who they were?”
She pressed her lips together, her eyes narrowing slightly. “I don’t even have to think about it. They possessed the most acidic tongues that year. In truth, they haven’t improved much over time, particularly Lady Abercrombie.”
He had a name at last. “She’s one of them?”
“Yes, she was Susannah Weycombe then, and DC refers to her closest friend, Dorothy Cranley—she is Lady Kipp-Landon now.”
Satisfaction curled through him, but knowing their identities wouldn’t truly grant him victory. He vaguely knew who they were, but wasn’t entirely sure he could pick them from a crowd. He glanced around, wondering if they were here.
The duchess gleaned his thoughts. “They wouldn’t be here. They aren’t in this circle. I doubt the Earl of Ware would invite anyone like that.”
No, she had that right. “True, but sometimes things get out of hand with one of Felix’s events.”
“Is that so? Well, that sounds like it could be good or bad.” She grinned briefly, then fixed him with a sympathetic stare. “Does it help you to know who those women are? I sense it’s somehow important to you.”
“My sister had a difficult time of things, and they were part of that. I don’t know that it helps, but I certainly appreciate knowing who they are so I may give them the cut direct. Should the occasion ever arise.”
“I wouldn’t blame you. They tried to befriend me when I married Titus, but I may have ensured they were excised from my mother-in-law’s considerable sphere of influence.” She shrugged without a bit of concern, provoking Beck to laugh. “And my husbandmayhave punched Lord Haywood, but I daresay he deserved at least that.”
Beck had met Haywood, who was more than a decade his senior. He was known as a bit of a gambler and a drinker. “Haywood is the man who—?” Beck didn’t want to say and knew she would understand the question.
