Page 40 of The Duke Meets His Match

Susan understood theoretically that arriving at church on the Duke of Aylesham’s arm would attract attention from those in attendance. She had attended events in the past where one person or another had seemed to draw everyone’s eye and murmurs of conversations had ensued.

For that reason, she had dressed carefully this morning, choosing one of Madame Veronique’s more demure creations to wear and paying meticulous attention to her hair and its newly discovered ability to curl. She wished to appear as restrained and tasteful as possible, in a manner that wouldn’t lend itself to additional talk. For there would be talk.

Understanding something in theory and experiencing its actuality were not as similar as Susan had anticipated. The duke had arrived promptly, looking elegantin a well-cut gray coat and burgundy waistcoat, his ever-present quizzing glasshanging on a gold chain around his neck. He had bowed over Aunt Margaret’shand and over Susan’s, had assisted them both into his extremely fine carriage, seating himself opposite the two ladies, and then had given the coachmen thesignal to drive.

The carriage had lurched forward, and so had Susan’s heart and stomach.

The time was now at hand for them to be seen publicly as a couple. His countenance was serious, and even Aunt Margaret seemed to sense this was a time of reckoning, for she sat quietly on the bench next to Susan.

All too soon they were at St. George’s, and the duke assisted each lady out of the carriage, whereupon he proceeded to offer an elbow to each.

Susan had scarcely slid her hand into the crook of his elbow when she heard the whispers begin. “Remember Lady Walmsley’s wise words of last night,” the duke murmured to her. “‘You must begin as you mean to go.’ You are to be my duchess. Take your cues from that.”

Susan lifted her chin, took a deep breath, and smiled serenely, but it all felt like pretense. As they climbed the steps to the portico, they nodded in greeting to those they passed, but no one approached them to chat. It seemed to Susan as though the passersby were caught up in the spectacle that was the Duke of Aylesham arriving with a lady on his arm for the first time in memory rather than in offering Sunday wishes.

Aunt Margaret greeted the rector, and then it was the duke’s and Susan’s turns to receive the rector’s welcome.

“Mr. Hodgson, I hope you will allow me to introduce Miss Susan Jennings, the daughter of Viscount and Viscountess Thurlby of Lincolnshire. Miss Jennings, Mr. Robert Hodgson,” the duke said after he and the rector had shaken hands in greeting.

“Miss Jennings,” the rector said in reply.

“Mr. Hodgson,” Susan said with a slight curtsy.

“Miss Jennings is my betrothed,” the duke added.

Susan heard gasps behind her, and the rector glanced over her shoulder before returning his gaze to her. He smiled amiably, but his eyes were much sharper. “My felicitations, Miss Jennings.”

“Thank you,” she managed.

The duke placed his hand at her back and guided her through the doorway into the church. “Head high,” he whispered.

“If it were any higher, it would pop off my neck,” she retorted under her breath.

“That’s the spirit,” he replied.

He led them down the aisle to a pew apparently reserved for the Duke of Aylesham and family, and the three of them took their seats.

“I remember going to church for the very first time with dear Lady Elizabeth, you know, just last year—now,thatwas a to-do!” Aunt Margaret whispered to her. “After everything her wretched father put her through, poor sweet girl. We were trying to restore her reputation, you know, and appearing at church seemed the best first step. People are going to curb their tongues in church. And it worked for the most part, I daresay.”

The duke shot a discreet glance at Aunt Margaret, which Susan took to mean that conversation, even whispered, should cease.

Aunt Margaret ignored his look. “Nowthis, by comparison—thiswill create a flutter of excitement of the best kind! Ah! I see Lord and Lady Bledsoe just overthere.” She fluttered her handkerchief discreetly at them and then motionedto them to come over. “We can make room for them on this pew, can we not? There will still be enough room for your rogue of a brother should he decide to make an appearance.”

Susan watched Lord and Lady Bledsoe weave through the worshippers toward them.

“What have we here?” Lady Bledsoe asked quietly when they arrived at the pew.

“Look what our Aylesham has done—and in such a short time too!” Aunt Margaret exclaimed in as low a whisper as an exclamation of that sort would allow while she grasped Susan’s hand and thrust it in front of the poor lady.

Lady Bledsoe gasped rather too loudly upon seeing the ring on Susan’sfinger, and more heads turned in their direction, and others peered down from the gallery.

The duke sighed, and Susan carefully extricated her hand from Aunt Margaret’s grasp.

“Oh, Aylesham,” Lady Bledsoe exclaimed in the same sort of whisper as AuntMargaret’s had been. “Oh, Aylesham,” she said again, her eyes welling up with tears. “Howthrilledyour dear mama would be today if she were here! Finally! A soon-to-be daughter-in-law for her, and surely grandchildren will follow!”

The murmuring increased at Lady Bledsoe’s words.

The duke sighed again. “Thank you, Lady Bledsoe,” he murmured and then deliberately gave a side look toward the lectern.

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