Page 58 of The Duke Meets His Match

“Really, Aylesham,” Susan interrupted, sounding just as bored as Georgehad, “Itoldyou Prinny would get the details wrong, with so much excitement going on. Youshouldhave cleared up the little inaccuracy on the invitationbeforewe had to become aburdenon thisimportant person’stime.”

The doorman’s face went a deep shade of red.

George shrugged at him as if to suggest the two of them were subject to the demands of their womenfolk and what was a fellow to do? “Sorry, my goodman, but I reallyamoffended thatyouwould think my bride-to-be wouldnot be welcome. Would you care to go confer with Prince George or the Lord Chamberlain right now so we may sort out this matter quickly?” Out of the corner of his eye, George noticed another carriage pulling up to the entrance portico and another carriage behind it. “You seem familiar. Has this post been yours for a while?”

“About a year, Your Grace,” the doorman replied.

“Sucha responsibility, assuring that only those properly invited are allowed to enter,” Susan said, making George cringe—how did she think they were going to succeed if she was pointing out to the man precisely what they were doing?

“A year,” George echoed, hoping to distract the doorman from Susan’s words. “I thought I’d seen you. I was here not a week past. No wonder you look so familiar.”

“I—” the doorman began.

“Whatwasit I was going to discuss with the Princess Sophia Augusta?” Susan asked rhetorically.

George looked at her in alarm, not knowing what she intended.

“Oh, that’s right:Maibaumtraditions,” she said emphatically. “That’smaypolefor us, here in England,” she explained to the doorman. “Quite a thing where she comes from, apparently. Iamcurious, now that I remember.”

“Ah,” George said, unsure what else to add. Out of the corner of his eye, he could see the other recently arrived guests approaching. “What say you, man? Is my bride-to-be to be allowed to pass?”

“It’s not a problem, Your Grace,” the doorman said at last. “Please, enter.”

“Thank you, Sir,” Susan said, and George swore her words would havemelted butter. He merely nodded at the doorman as they walked past andthrough the doors into the familiar Hall of Entrance. They were successfully past the first obstacle.

“Don’t gape,” he whispered to her.

Her mouth closed.

“And well done,” he added.

A footman approached them, welcoming them once again, and gestured for them to follow.

“I’mso gladthe weather decided to cooperate this afternoon,” Susan said in her own version of a bored tone. Good girl.

“Indeed,” George replied with the same amount of ennui. “Howdreadfulit would have been to welcome suchillustriousguests and then not allow them to see London at her finest.”

“I agreeentirely, my dear duke,” Susan replied.

They kept up the verbal nonsense until they reached the doors that led to the garden. The footman bowed and left them to return to his post. Through the windows, George could see a fairly large group of people already assembled, and he tried to discern who was in attendance and who was located where so he could strategize. He could see already that mixed in with the prince’s usual dilettantes and minions, there was a surprising number of government officials and members of Parliament, although there was no one of any great influence, like Castlereagh or Lord Liverpool, the prime minister.

George eventually spied Prinny mingling with his guests, and next to him was an unfamiliar trio—a tall, robust man with full, gray sideburns who looked to be in his fifties, a solidly built, middle-aged woman with reddish hair who was nearly as tall as the man, and a young lady who was really quite beautiful and was as tall as the other two—the trio must certainly be Prince Ernst Leopold and his wife and daughter.

“I propose we go straight to Prinny and get it over with,” George said. “I see no need to mingle with the other guests or stay any particular length of time.”

Susan gazed out the window. George expected the guests who had arrived after them to show up behind them at any minute. “There are so few people here I know,” she murmured.

“That is just as well,” George said, “for many of them presume to be thecream of Society but are, in fact, rather poor examples. Lord Alvanley, for one”—George pointed discreetly at the man in question who was currently laughing with a pair of other dandies—“is rich in witticisms but lacking in judgment and is living well beyond his means. And he is not alone.” He glanced at Prinny.

“Nonetheless, this is a great deal more intimidating now that I’m here,” Susan said. “It is quite one thing to envision something and quite another to face it in truth, as I have recently learned. The doorman was nothing compared to what I see here.”

“That may be so. But remember, we succeeded with the doormanandthe footman. Take courage from those successes,” he said. “You are the future Duchess of Aylesham. Allow them to seeher,and we shall succeed again. I am sure of it.”

***

Susan looked out the window at the crowd, trying to gather her courage. Alltoo soon, on George’s signal, the footman posted outside the french doors would open them to allow them to step outside.Outside, where the PrinceRegent and all of his guests would see her with him and recognize her for the fraud she was. Why, oh, why had she ever agreed to this? She could be safely back in Lincolnshire right now, sitting next to Rebecca, reading aloud to her, sharing anecdotes of the past week. It had been a choice she could have made. She had told George that very thing.

Now he was waiting for her to choose again—choose to go through those doors and face her monarch and his friends or to leave. If she were to tell him she wanted to leave, he would oblige her; she knew he would. But he believed in her too.You are the future Duchess of Aylesham. Allow them to see her, and we shall succeed again.

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