Page 45 of The Duelist for the Ton
Olivia dipped into a curtsey, and Lady Angela tilted her head to one side, then glanced at the duke. “You’re His Grace’s sister?” she said. “A pleasure to meet you, Lady Olivia.”
“It’sMiss Whitcombe,” Olivia said, blushing.
“But I thought a duke’s sister was—”
“Miss Whitcombe,” Colonel Reid said, extending his hand and issuing a broad smile, “a pleasure to see you again.”
“I-I don’t…” Olivia stammered, but he continued.
“Don’t you recall we were introduced at the Royal Academy exhibition, where your sister-in-law’s portrait of you graced the walls and was, in my opinion, the finest exhibit in the room?”
Olivia glanced at her brother, her eyes widening, and Eleanor came to her rescue.
“Colonel, you flatter my talents,” she said. “I’m not so conceited as to consider my little pencil sketch to rank among the work of some of the finest artists in the country.” She glanced at Olivia. “Perhaps it was the subject, not the artist, whom you were praising.”
He bowed to the duchess, then took Olivia’s hand and lifted it to his lips. Portia tempered the little spike of jealousy as he brushed his lips against Olivia’s fingers. He was a handsome enough man in his usual brooding attitude, but when he smiled he was rendered godlike.
And she found that she didn’t at all like seeing that smile turned toward another woman.
“You underestimate your talent, Duchess,” he said to Eleanor, “but you are correct in your recognition of your sister-in-law’s beauty.”
He resumed his attention on Olivia. “I trust you’ll favor me with a dance when next we meet at a ball, Miss Whitcombe.”
She glanced at her brother. “I—I do not know when I’ll next be attending a ball.”
“Well, mind you reserve a space for me on your dance card before it fills.” He smiled again, then released her hand. “Perhaps you might visit us for tea some time? My sister would appreciate widening her acquaintance, and you’re just the sort of young lady I’d like her to get to know better.”
Angela leaned close to her brother. “Stephen, why isn’t she Lady Olivia?”
Though she had lowered her voice to a whisper, the rest of the party had caught her words. Whitcombe’s expression hardened and Olivia colored.
“Olivia is a lady,” Portia said, stepping forward. “At least in every quality that matters. Dear Olivia, I hope to see more of you at your sister’s house party next month.”
“In the meantime, perhaps you’d like to get to know Miss Whitcombe a little better, Angela,” Colonel Reid said, steering her toward Olivia, and smiling as the two young women linked arms. He exchanged a glance with Portia, and her heart gave another little flutter.
“You see, Adam?” she said, turning to her brother. “There are some men who understand the true meaning of gallantry.”
His eyes darkened, but he before he could admonish her, a familiar nasal voice uttered an overly bright greeting.
“Foxton! How delightful to see you. And Whitcombe, of course.”
Sir Heath Moss approached, arm in arm with Lady Francis. He inclined his head to Adam, then bowed toward Portia and Eleanor.
“Lady Portia, Your Grace,” he said. “Charmed, I’m sure.” He turned his gaze toward Olivia and curled his lip in a sneer. “I see you’ve brought thewholefamily with you tonight, Whitcombe. Very charitable.”
“In what way is my husbandcharitable?” Eleanor said.
“In his more modern sensibilities, Duchess,” Sir Heath said, “which have extended to many of the choices he’s made in life.”
“Such as?” Whitcombe said, his voice growing quiet as he took his wife’s hand and drew her close.
Sir Heath stared at Whitcombe’s hand, then smiled, his pale gaze shifting to Eleanor. “I have always spoken of my admiration ofyou, Duchess, and of the unexpected elevation in Society that your family has enjoyed—which is, I’m sure, down to the”—he lowered his gaze to her neckline—“thetalentsboth you and your sister possess.”
“Do you intend to insult me?” Eleanor asked.
His eyes widened in mock horror. “On the contrary, Duchess, I have nothing but praise for you. Tell me, when shall we expect to see your sister-in-law gracing the dance floor at a ball? I noticed you and the duke at Countess Thorpe’s party last week, thoughMiss Whitcombewas absent. Was she not invited? Earl Thorpe issucha stickler for propriety.”
“My sister was not inclined to attend, Sir Heath,” Whitcombe said.
