“But you must go down. A visitor awaits you in the drawing room.” A faint smirk touched the housekeeper’s hatchet face. “It is Her Grace, the Duchess of Knowles.”
Chapter 20
Laura paused in front of an oval mirror in the corridor and tucked a few stray strands back into her chignon. From the conversation she’d overheard at Lord Scarborough’s ball, the Duchess of Knowles took a keen interest in her godson’s private affairs. She was, after all, a close family friend who had grown up in the same household as Alex’s father. It was only natural that she’d wish to meet the woman Alex had chosen as his bride.
Pasting on a resolute smile, Laura stepped into the drawing room. Morning sunlight streamed through the tall windows and bathed the spacious room with its clutter of knickknacks. The hour was too early for visitors, but of course this particular caller wouldn’t wish to have witnesses to whatever she intended to say.
The duchess sat in a chair by the cold fireplace. An olive-green brocade gown encasing her stout form, she appeared as haughty as a queen on her throne. The crimped brim of her bonnet framed features that were unremarkable except for a pointed nose rather like the beak of a hawk. Jeweled rings glinted on the clawlike fingers that gripped the gilt arms of the chair.
She did not return Laura’s smile.
Gliding forward, Laura suffered no illusions that this interview would be pleasant. The duchess had
not
come to offer felicitations. However, for the sake of family peace, Laura would do her best to be civil.
She sank into a deep curtsy. “Good morning, Your Grace. Perhaps you won’t remember, but we met briefly ten years ago.”
“I do indeed remember,” the duchess said, critically eyeing her up and down. “You were a flibbertigibbet with your eye on my godson even back then.”
Laura sat down in a chair opposite the woman. Keeping her expression diligently agreeable, she folded her fingers in her lap. “I should rather say that
he
had his eye on
me
. As for now, he pursued me from the moment he learned that I’d returned to London.”
“You took this post in Josephine’s house on purpose. So that you could work your wiles on him.”
Laura didn’t bother to explain that it had been Lady Milford who had conspired to throw her into Alex’s path. It wouldn’t do any good. “Until yesterday, I was disguised in spectacles and drab gowns like this one,” she said with a wave at her brown bombazine dress with its long sleeves and modest bosom. “Hardly the garb of a
femme fatale
.”
The duchess’s beaky nostrils flared. “Do not play me for a fool, Miss Falkner. As this is a grave situation, I will speak plainly. You are a most improper wife for the Earl of Copley. I will not allow you to drag my godson down into the gutter with you. I insist that you cry off this reckless engagement at once!”
Laura kept her gaze steady. “No. I will not.”
“No?” The Duchess of Knowles leaned forward, her bejeweled fingers glinting in the sunlight. “Your father was convicted of stealing the Blue Moon diamond from me. If you refuse to do as I say, I will have you arrested as his accomplice.”
The threat made Laura quail inside. Although Alex had assured her that she could not be prosecuted, she remembered the constable in the cemetery and how avidly he had given chase through the slums. If the police believed that she knew what had happened to the legendary diamond, and if the duchess applied her influence, a magistrate surely could be persuaded to lock up Laura in prison.
But there was one point that Her Grace had failed to take into account.
“Lord Copley will fight on my behalf,” Laura said. “Are you prepared for him to become your adversary? Will you estrange yourself from your godson and willfully create a feud?”
“Don’t be impertinent. It is
you
who have put him in a difficult position. You, with your tarnished reputation. You will always be known as the daughter of a common thief.”
Laura stifled an ironic laugh. Mrs. Samson had uttered nearly those same words to her. It was not quite eleven o’clock and already Laura had been snubbed by a housekeeper and a duchess.
“I see you find my concerns amusing,” Her Grace said with a sniff. “Tell me, to whom did Martin Falkner sell the Blue Moon? I demand to know at once!”
“My father did
not
steal your wretched diamond. I don’t care that the matching earrings were found in his desk. Someone else put them there—to implicate him.”
“What a cockamamie tale! If you believe that, you are harebrained as well a fortune-hunting hussy.”
Laura had suffered enough insults. Abandoning civility, she seized this chance to root out the truth. “My father did have one enemy. A man who is known to you. Tell me, Your Grace, did you perchance allow Lord Haversham access to your bedchamber ten years ago?”
Those pale blue eyes widened, enough for Laura to see a flash of something secretive. But it vanished so swiftly that she couldn’t be certain what it meant.
A thunderous expression twisting her face, the duchess shot to her feet. “I will not remain here to be affronted by the likes of you. Is it not enough that your father stole my most valuable jewel? Must you rob my godson of his future happiness, as well?”
Laura stood up, too. She refused to be any less than eye-to-eye with this snooty, hateful peeress. “Alex’s future is not yours to decide. If he chooses to squander it on me, then I won’t stop him—nor will you!”
“Well! This conversation has come to an end. Summon your footman to show me out.”
“Better yet, I will show you out myself. With great pleasure!”
In high dudgeon, Laura marched out of the drawing room, through the reception hall, and down the staircase. Irate footsteps tapped in her wake. She sailed right past the astonished footman and threw open the front door. Proceeding outside, she held the door while Her Grace’s imposing figure emerged from the house.
The duchess aimed an icy glare at Laura. With a final “Harrumph,” the middle-aged woman stalked to a waiting black coach, where a crimson-liveried footman hastened to assist her in entering it.
As the coachman drove off, another vehicle drew up in front of the town house. It was not one Laura recognized, and belatedly she realized that her fit of anger had left her exposed. Though it was somewhat early, the gossips must be anxious to gawk at the upstart Miss Falkner who had finagled an offer from one of society’s biggest catches. Her being out here only gave them an excuse to stop and talk, thus gaining an advantage over the other tattle-mongers.
But when the door opened, Laura saw that the young woman who emerged from the carriage had a familiar cheerful face beneath her straw bonnet. A sunny yellow gown draped her noticeably pregnant form.
Laura flew down the steps. “Violet!”
The two friends hugged, and Violet’s warm brown eyes were like saucers in her freckled face. “I came as soon as I read the news in
The Tattler
. But … was that the Duchess of Knowles in the coach that just now left here?”
“Yes, and I’m afraid I let my temper gain the better of me.”
“Oh! What did that harridan say to you? I can only imagine she must object to your brilliant match.”
“Quite.” Glad for the loyal support of a friend, Laura slipped her arm through Violet’s. “Come inside and I’ll tell you all about it.”
They went into the house, heading upstairs to the morning room where they could talk without interruption. Going to a chaise by the open window overlooking the garden, they settled down for a chat.
“I’ve been dying to come and visit you for
days
,” Violet declared. “But little Michael was fretful with a fever, and I couldn’t leave the poor dear without his mama. And look at all that I’ve missed in the interim! Lord Copley has made you an offer and you have accepted him. Oh, I
knew
he was madly in love with you!”
“I’ll allow, you did advise me to give him a chance to redeem himself,” Laura hedged, without explaining all the particulars of the betrothal. Somehow, she felt reluctant to reveal that the bargain they’d struck had little to do with love.
Alex wanted an heir. Laura wanted to vindicate her father. And the bond holding them together was passion. A fiery, powerful, seductive passion. She would never admit it aloud, but the anticipation of their wedding night smoldered like an ever-present flame inside her.
“I could not be happier for you,” Violet said, her face alight with a smile. “Have you set a wedding date yet?”
“Yes, in three days’ time—”
“
What?
” Her gaze dropped to Laura’s midsection. “You aren’t … are you?”
Laura laughed. “No, I am not with child! For pity’s sake, I only returned to London a fortnight ago.”
“Then the earl must be
very
eager if you’re to wed by special license! Oh, isn’t it
so
romantic!”
Laura felt a deep wistful ache that she quickly denied. “Rather, it’s quite sensible. If we wait until the end of the Season, our wedding will be overshadowed by the queen’s coronation. I much prefer to have a small, quiet ceremony at home, anyway. You know that my father died less than two months ago.”
Violet reached out to give Laura’s hand a sympathetic squeeze. “I’m so sorry, of
course
you’re right. It’s just that holding your nuptials so swiftly puts you in quite a bind. How will you arrange your trousseau in time? We must make haste to the shops at once!”
Laura shook her head. “I haven’t the funds for extravagances. I’d planned to go out this afternoon while her ladyship is napping and purchase the materials for my wedding gown.”
“Only
one
new gown? And sewn by yourself?” Resting her hands on the gentle mound of her belly, Violet gave her an incredulous look. “Laura, you
know
you can’t go about society in anything but the finest fashions. You’ll need
piles
of new gowns. You’re to be Lady Copley, after all, and you must look your best to counter any naysayers. And don’t fret over the expense. The earl is an exceedingly rich man.”
“That isn’t why I’m marrying him,” Laura said stiffly.
“Of course not, it’s a love match. But you mustn’t let your pride get in the way of practicality. Only consider, you may buy whatever you please, for the bills won’t arrive until after your vows are spoken!”
The notion of presuming upon Alex’s wealth disturbed Laura. On the first day he had spied her in the garden, he had insinuated that she might be a jewel thief like her father. She didn’t want to mention that, but perhaps she owed her friend some sort of explanation. “Violet, I must confess … it isn’t a love match, not precisely. Perhaps that’s why I feel so reluctant to lay claim to his funds.”
Violet tilted her head in surprise. “Not a love match? But I’m sure it must be—”
“Good morning, ladies.” With ghastly timing, Alex walked through the doorway without an announcement by the footman to give them warning. “I do hope I’m not interrupting a private conversation.”
Laura’s heart catapulted into her throat. Her fiancé strolled toward them, appearing every inch the fashionable man-about-town in a russet coat tailored to fit his broad shoulders and fawn breeches that hugged his long muscular legs. He looked so perfect that she could only stare, rapt at the notion that he would soon be her husband. Then, as he drew closer, she noted the distinct gleam in his dark eyes.
Had he overheard their conversation?
Leaning down, he pressed a lingering kiss to Laura’s cheek. In a voice fraught with exaggerated tenderness, he murmured, “How beautiful you look today … my love.”
Yes, he
had
overheard. And just as he undoubtedly intended, Violet observed them with wide-eyed interest. She gave Laura a smirk that said
See, I told you he’s madly in love.
A hot blush stained Laura’s cheeks. She fought it unsuccessfully, knowing it would only confirm Violet’s stalwart belief in his romantic attachment.
Before Laura could collect her thoughts and make a cogent reply, he turned to her friend. “Mrs. Blankenship, is it not?”
Violet smiled prettily and offered him her hand. “Yes, my lord. You have an excellent memory for names.”
“I never forget a pretty face. Alas, you’re already taken, so I’ve had to settle for Laura as my bride.” As Violet giggled, he brought up a chair and sat directly in front of Laura, leaning forward to take her hand and lace their fingers together. “Not that I mind, of course,” he added, gazing deeply into her eyes. “Laura is everything I’ve ever desired in a wife.”
He was quite the charmer today, she thought giddily. A pity it was all playacting for Violet’s benefit. And what had happened to the river of powerful emotions she’d glimpsed in him the previous evening? Had she imagined it? No, he kept his deepest feelings hidden, and she felt a maddening zeal to uncover all his secrets.
But now was not the time.
“Unfortunately,” Laura said, withdrawing her hand from his, “I’m
not
everything your godmother wants in your wife. The duchess came by this morning to tell me so.”
His affable look vanished and he frowned slightly. “No wonder she wasn’t at home when I called on her a short time ago.”
“Yes, you just missed her here.” Although still miffed by the woman’s high-handed insults, Laura regretted that the incident would create a rift. Causing trouble in his family was hardly an advantageous way to start their marriage. “Please be assured that I tried my best to be civil. But she made it extremely difficult and, well, she left in rather a huff.”
“Never mind the duchess,” Alex said. “I’ll have a word with her.”
“It’ll take more than a word, I’m afraid.”
“That bad?” A dry smile touched one corner of his mouth. “We’ll see. Now, it appears you’re in need of a new wardrobe. I should like to see you in something a bit less … spinsterish.” He gazed askance at her dowdy dress, his eyes lingering on her bosom, before he looked at Violet. “Wouldn’t you agree, Mrs. Blankenship?”
“Oh, most assuredly! Why, I was telling Laura that very thing before you arrived, my lord, that she and I should go to the shops at once.”