Page 78 of The Duke Who Loved Me (The Duke's Estates 1)

“To sit before everyone and show that we don’t care a snap of our fingers for the whispers?”

“Precisely.” Lady Wilton was irascible, but no one had ever called her slow.

“She has agreed to attend?”

“I haven’t told her yet. I came to you first. But she will.”

“Can you be so certain…”

“You may leave that to me!”

She gazed at him as if she was trying to see right through to his depths. “You understand that such a small party—just the three of us—will look marked. As I am your grandmother.”

James decided that was an advantage rather than a drawback. He nodded.

Lady Wilton did the same, as if he’d confirmed some suspicion. “Very well,” she said. “I will make a pact with you.”

“What do you mean?”

“I will join in your scheme if you do something about Ferrington.”

“Ferrington?”

“Why can no one remember that he exists?” asked his grandmother irritably. “My great-grandson who is now the Earl of Ferrington.”

“The one who has disappeared,” said James.

“So youdorecall that much. Yes! I seem to be plagued with disappearing descendants.”

“I will set inquiries in motion,” said James.

“This is a meaningless phrase.”

“I will hire agents to search for him.”

“What sort of…”

“I don’t know, Grandmamma! I have never done such a thing before. I will have to discover where one finds such people. But you have my word that I will do so.”

She gazed at him. “I don’t believe you’ve ever given me your word before.”

James didn’t remember. She was probably right.

“But I think that it is good,” his grandmother added.

“Thank you.” The words were sarcastic, but he found that he was also gratified by her trust.

“Very well then. I shall do all I can to help you.”

James rose. “I will send word of the details for the play.”

In the street, James paused to gather his thoughts. He ached to see Cecelia but wanted to get it right, as he had not been doing so far. Should he speak of marriage first? He longed to hear her say that she would marry him, that she wanted to as much as he wished it. He wanted to protect her from all harm. He indulged in a brief fantasy of sweeping her away from London to some perfect realm where they could…

“Tereford!”

James turned to find one of the leading lights of the dandy set approaching, resplendent in a heavily padded tailcoat, a neckcloth that appeared to be choking him, and a glittering wealth of fobs. “Hello, Crawdon.”

“Where the devil have you been, man? You know Bingham snabbled your valet.”

---