Page 36 of The Duelist for the Ton
Foxton’s expression hardened, and he opened his mouth to speak, but the duchess intervened.
“Your Grace, Lady Portia, have you met Colonel Reid’s sister, Lady Angela Reid?”
Lady Portia turned to Angela, her eyes gleaming with interest.
“Angela,” Stephen said, “this is the Duke of Foxton and his sister, Lady Portia Hawke.”
“Y-Your Grace.” Angela dipped into a curtsey, her voice tightening with apprehension and shyness.
Lady Portia wrenched herself free from her brother’s grip and clasped both of Angela’s hands. “It’s such a pleasure to meet you,” she said. “I’d know you anywhere. You look so like your brother.”
“Nonsense,” Foxton said. “She’s nothing like him.”
“That’s because you onlylookat people, Adam,” she retorted. “You don’t bother toseethem. The likeness is obvious—the shape and color of their eyes is identical, and the mouth—”
She broke off, and a flare of desire ignited in Stephen’s blood at the delicate bloom on her cheeks.
“Do you enjoy firing a weapon, Lady Portia?” he asked.
Her smile disappeared, and a hunted look flickered in her eyes. “I don’t see why I should be denied the pursuits that men enjoy merely because of my sex,” she said.
“Sister,” Foxton admonished her, and she shot him a look of defiance.
Whitcombe let out a laugh. “I daresay, Foxton, your sister will be insisting on membership of White’s if you give her too much freedom.”
“Then I shall have to curb her freedom.”
Lady Portia let out a laugh. “You think I want to spend every waking afternoon drinking brandy and congratulating myself on how many fellows I’ve bested at the card table or how many maidens I’ve seduced?”
A collective intake of breath rippled through the company, and Foxton snapped at her. “Portia, I’ve warned you before—”
“Have I said anything untrue?” she said. “You may admonish me for speaking out of turn if you like, but do not attempt to chastise me for speaking the truth. I would rather hear the truth,even if it gives me discomfort, than be placated with a lie merely to keep me quiet.”
“Portia, I’ve a good mind—” Foxton began, but Duchess Whitcombe interrupted.
“Quite so, Lady Portia. I often find myself voicing an uncomfortable truth, though it drives my poor husband to despair—does it not, my love?” She turned to Whitcombe, who lifted her hand to his heart.
Sweet Lord—what must it be like to be so in love? But the love Whitcombe held for his wife was not a slavish devotion where he ignored her flaws and exposed himself to heartbreak and rejection. It was a love borne of knowing—reallyknowing—his wife’s soul and recognizing her as his true mate.
Stephen’s gaze shifted to Lady Portia, who watched the couple with understanding and envy in her eyes. Then she met his gaze and held it for a moment, before she colored and looked away, while Angela watched the exchange.
At that moment, the sound of splashing and honking carried across the air, and Angela turned her attention to the waters of the Serpentine, which glistened through the trees, reflecting the sunlight like a thousand tiny stars dancing across the surface.
“Lady Angela, shall we go and see the swans?” Lady Portia said. “I fear my brother is about to chastise me in public, and I’d rather he wait to dish out his admonishments at home.”
Foxton frowned, and Lord Staines let out a laugh. “You’ve a headstrong young lady there in your sister, Foxton. I trust you appreciate the benefits of having such a spirited young woman in your home. Consider it good practice for your marriage, for I’ll wager that only the most strong-willed of women will suit you.”
“On the contrary, Staines,” Foxton said, giving Lady Portia a hard look. “I find that a lifetime of my sister has made me appreciate the benefits of a silent, biddable partner in marriage all the more.”
Angela stared at Foxton.
“Doesyourbrother admonish you as much, Lady Angela?” Portia said.
Foxton let out a snort. “And doesyoursister run wild as much, colonel?”
Lady Portia linked her arm with Angela’s. “I think the swans may be more congenial company for us. Certainly they’ll be more adept at intelligent conversation.”
“Y-yes please…” Angela stammered. “I mean, I’d be delighted, Lady Portia.”
