Page 3 of If the Duke Dares
“I shall record these so we may never forget the rules,” Ellis said, whipping a small book and pencil from her reticule. She sat back down and went to work writing.
“Thank you all so much,” Pandora said as a few more tears leaked from her eyes. “I fear I am ruined, but I hope you will all remain my friends.”
“Nothing could stop me,” Min promised. “And I’ll do everything I can to minimize the scandal.”
Persephone had never loved her friend more and knew that Min would use whatever power she had in Society to help Pandora. Even so, Persephone feared there would be nothing for it, that their family would simply have to remove to Radstock Hall and keep to themselves for the next year. There were worse things that could happen.
Such as the monumental lecture the baroness would most certainly deliver to Pandora—and Persephone. That was going to be painful. How Persephone wished she could take all this away from her sister. Why couldn’t it have been her? No one would care if she were ruined, except for how it might affect Pandora.
All the friends took turns hugging Pandora and offering their love and support. Thankfully, they still had another week together before they went their separate ways.
“Finished,” Ellis declared. “I’ll make copies for each of you and bring them tomorrow.”
The door opened again, and this time, it was the Baroness Radstock standing at the threshold. Her vivid blue gaze went directly to Pandora. “Mrs. Lawler has just come to see me,” she said softly, but Persephone heard the underlying fury.
Pandora stood shakily, and Persephone helped, rising with her.
“Come, girls, we must pack,” their mother said crisply as she pivoted in the doorway.
As it happened, they did not have one more week in Weston. They didn’t even have the rest of the day. Within the hour, they were on their way home, and the future, once bright with the promise of Pandora making a brilliant match, had never looked more uncertain.
Chapter2
Radstock Hall, Somerset, England
They’d been home from Weston for four days, and Pandora hadn’t left the second floor where their former nursery and current retreat was located except to sleep in her bedchamber on the first floor. Persephone had shared her bed, insistent that Pandora not be alone. Doing so had reminded them both of their childhood when they’d shared a room. It was much easier for them to look back instead of forward. Pandora was certain her life was over.
Because their mother had said so repeatedly.
Now, Persephone had been summoned to the drawing room by her parents. They had, unsurprisingly, found a way to blame her for what had happened between Pandora and Bane. Persephone braced herself for another lecture on how she’d failed her sister and, in so doing, had ruined her family.
She stood outside the drawing room and looked at herself in the mirror hanging nearby. Her face was pale, expectant. She’d pulled her dark blonde hair into a tight chignon, which her mother found too severe, but what did it matter when they were at home? Mama always found something faulty about Persephone’s appearance, whether it was the bump in her nose or the lack of pink in her cheeks.
Taking a deep breath, she jerked her gaze from the mirror and stepped into the drawing room. “Close the door,” her mother, who’d become increasingly tense and cold in recent years, said without looking at Persephone. “Sit.”
Though she would have preferred to stand in defiance, Persephone did not want to invite even more displeasure. So, she sat. As far away from her mother’s chair and the hearth where her father stood as possible.
The baron glanced toward his wife—he typically checked in with her before he launched into any speech. They were a united front in everything.
“Your sister’s ruin demands your immediate marriage,” he declared. He smoothed his hand down the expensive superfine of his coat, his mouth pursing slightly, which pulled at his cheekbones. The expression drew one’s attention to the long, thick sideburns he’d grown about three years ago when the hair on his head had become noticeably thinner.
Persephone’s brain latched on to “immediate marriage” with the tenacity of a child gripping a biscuit.
“You are going to save the family,” her mother said with deceptive charm.
“With an immediate marriage?” Persephone swallowed a nervous, absurd laugh. She’d had not so much as a whiff of a marriage proposal in three years. According to her mother, she didn’t possess the necessary allure or beauty to attract a husband and was likely destined for spinsterhood.
Her mother nodded smoothly. “Yes, to the Duke of Wellesbourne. You remember his mother, the duchess?”
Certainly. She was a prominent member of Bath Society despite living separately from her husband. He was rumored to keep a mistress in London, and that all seemed perfectly normal to everyone. Persephone found it sad. Persephone also remembered that her son ran in the same crowd of reprobates as Bane and possessed an equally abysmal reputation as a rake who was completely unserious about marriage. They were the rogues to whom the rules she and her friends had crafted pertained.
Persephone’s stomach sank past the floorboards. They couldn’t expect her to wed a man such as he. She wouldn’t. Shecouldn’t. In fact, she could hardly believe he would actually consent to it, but then he was a duke and probably felt it was his responsibility to finally take a wife. Persephone had no desire to be the fulfillment of his duty.
“I can’t imagine a hasty marriage is necessary.” Especially since Persephone wasn’t the one who’d been ruined. She inwardly cringed to think of her sister being identified that way. “We don’t know if there will be a scandal.”
The baroness glowered at her. “News of Pandora’s improper behavior appeared in theBath Chroniclethis morning, without names, of course, but everyone knows the rumor concerns her and Banemore, and it will surely find its way to London.” Full lips pursed and blue eyes narrowed, she looked pointedly at Persephone. “Youwillwed. Wellesbourne is an excellent match, particularly for you.”
Persephone refused to be bullied into a marriage she didn’t want. “Wouldn’t we all be better served if Papa forced Bane to wed Pandora?”
