Page 8 of The Duke of Seduction
She and her friends had been silly to think of him as kindhearted. The man was a menace, and Lavinia meant to unmask him to put a stop to this madness.
Mother pouted. “It’s a very nice poem. His finest yet, I think. He even extolls your intellect. Clearly, he knows you.”
Lavinia tried to resist reading the poem, but if the man had written of her intelligence, she was curious. Without picking up the newspaper, she arched her neck to read the words. It wasn’t terribly long, but then none of them were, if she recalled. Three or four stanzas. Hers was four.
“Perhaps there will be a second poem.” Her mother’s hopeful tone drew Lavinia to look up from the paper.
“I should hope not.” Though Lavinia was fairly certain he’d written more than one poem about each of his subjects. Except, perhaps, his last one—Miss Jane Pemberton.
Father gave her a pointed stare, his dark brown eyes boring into hers. “This could be a boon for you, and you’ll treat it as such. I’m weary of funding Seasons,” he grumbled.
“Yes, do look at it as a boon,” her mother cajoled. “We’ll get to the park a bit early today and see what happens.” She rose from the table. “We must select your finest walking ensemble! Come, let us prepare.” She turned and started from the breakfast room.
Lavinia could feel what little freedom she possessed slipping away.
“Get up, then,” her father said loudly, but not yelling.
Burying her frustration, Lavinia stood and followed her mother from the room. She cursed the Duke of Seduction with every step.
It was, thankfully, a temperate afternoon as they walked into the park at nearly a quarter past four. They were a trifle early, but still within the realm of fashion. Or so Lavinia’s mother said. She’d also said that Lavinia was not to speak of rocks, dirt, or anything to do with science.
Still wishing the Duke of Seduction a series of misfortunes, Lavinia had managed to dash off notes to Sarah and Fanny earlier that afternoon asking them to meet her in the park.
They waited just inside the Grosvenor Gate, and Lavinia was eager to go to them. She expected her mother to chastise her for immediately joining her friends, but the countess was quite busy with her own group of women, who, given their frequent looks toward Lavinia, were assaulting her with questions about the Duke of Seduction.
It had already begun.
“Let us walk,” Lavinia said, wanting to leave the vicinity as soon as possible. She was permitted to walk with her friends along the footpath to the Serpentine and back.
Sarah fell into step on Lavinia’s left and Fanny on the right.
“So my prognostication came true,” Fanny said, but without pride or excitement. “He did write about one of you.” She looked at Lavinia with concern, her brow creased in straight, neat pleats. “Clearly you are not pleased.”
Lavinia gritted her teeth. “I don’t want to be interesting because some anonymous man says I am.”
“But his motives seem pure,” Fanny said, though her voice held a bit of question.
“How do we really know?” Lavinia asked as a cool breeze stirred the ribbons of her bonnet beneath her chin. “Perhaps if he made himself known, we could understand his true reasoning. This anonymity lends a rather sinister air, don’t you think?”
“Sinister?” Sarah laughed. “Lavinia is being dramatic, Fanny. She does that sometimes. She can also be rather fearless, and I guarantee if she knew the identity of the Duke of Seduction, she’d call him out on his behavior posthaste.”
“Indeed I would. Which is why I’d like to find out who he is.”
“Of course you would,” Sarah said. “We all would.”
“But I have reason to, beyond curiosity. He is meddling in my affairs, mylife.”
“Yes, dramatic,” Sarah murmured.
Lavinia scowled at her dearest friend. “How would you feel if he wrote a poem aboutyou? You may be next, after all.”
Sarah cocked her head to the side. “I’m not sure how I would feel, but if it meant I might dance more or perhaps meet the man of my dreams, I would appreciate the assistance.” She turned toward Lavinia. “Maybe you’ll meet the man you’re destined to fall in love with.”
“Or maybe I’ll meet someone my parents will marry me off to who won’t support my endeavors.”
“Your geology, you mean,” Fanny said.
Lavinia had shared her interests with Fanny yesterday when she and Sarah had called on her. They’d solidified the friendship they’d started the night before at the Evenrudes’ ball.
