Page 23 of Not the Duke's Virgin

“Thank you, Jane,” Victoria replied kindly. She waited until the maid had departed before holding up the two gowns side by side. “Well, what do you think, Maddie? The blue or the green one?”

Madeline considered them both critically for a moment. “The green one complements your eyes beautifully. And it will look lovely alongside my blue dress.”

“My thoughts exactly.” Victoria took the emerald green gown behind the changing screen in the corner. As she dressed, her mind went back to the tumultuous events of the past few days. How swiftly her world had been upended by just one letter. A letter that filled her with equal parts fury and fear.

She thought of her sister, alone and vulnerable. If only Aurora were here now, instead of?—

Victoria shut down that train of thought sharply. Later. She would deal with it all later. Right now, she had to focus on getting through this party unscathed.

Emerging from behind the screen in her gown, she moved to the vanity, so Madeline could assist with fastening the long row of tiny buttons up the back.

“You look wonderful, Victoria,” Madeline remarked as she deftly fastened the buttons. “The Duke won’t be able to take his eyes off you tonight.”

Victoria suppressed a derisive laugh. “Somehow I doubt that. But let him look all he wants, as long as it convinces him the engagement is real.”

Madeline met her gaze worriedly in the mirror. “Do you think you can fool him?”

“I must try. Too much depends on it.” Victoria straightened her shoulders resolutely. “But don’t fret over it, dearest. I’ll handle the Duke. You just focus on enjoying your first Society ball.”

She turned and took Madeline’s hands in her own, giving them a reassuring squeeze. Her cousin still looked uncertain, and Victoria wished she could unburden her mind and confess everything. But it would not be fair to place such a weight on Madeline’s tender shoulders. This was Victoria’s problem to solve.

Another knock was followed by a footman poking his head into the room. “Your carriage is ready, Lady Victoria, Miss Russell.”

“Thank you, we’ll be right down,” Victoria replied.

She checked her appearance one final time in the mirror and took a deep, bracing breath. She hoped her nerves didn’t show on her face. With determined effort, she fixed a convincingly pleasant smile in place as she linked arms with Madeline.

“Shall we?” she prompted brightly.

Together they descended the grand staircase and exited through the front doors, where an open carriage awaited to drive them to the Duke’s estate. Liveried footmen handed them up and they settled onto the plush velvet seats.

As the carriage clattered down the drive, Madeline squeezed Victoria’s hand tightly. “I wish you would tell me what is happening. I’m sure I could help.”

Victoria patted her hand gently. “You are helping, just by being here with me. I promise to explain everything soon. But for now, please just follow my lead tonight.”

Madeline still looked uncertain but nodded. “I trust you, Victoria.”

The carriage rolled through the gas-lit London streets, the sounds of string quartets and genteel laughter spilling from the lighted windows of the stately townhouses they passed along the way.

* * *

The clock on the mantel chimed two o’clock as Simon sat at his desk, surrounded by ledgers and letters bearing ill tidings of financial burdens on the estate.

Rubbing his throbbing temples, Simon mulled over the situation for the hundredth time. His father’s hastily amended will remained the crux of the problem.

A knock interrupted his brooding. Straightening, Simon bid whoever it was to enter. His friend and solicitor Percival Carter entered.

Simon rose to greet him. “Percival, thank you for coming on such short notice,” he said, shaking his hand firmly before gesturing for him to sit.

“Of course, Your Grace. Is all well?” Percival asked.

Resuming his seat, Simon frowned. “I’m afraid not. Several urgent matters have arisen, which I hope to discuss with you.”

Percival nodded gravely. “Go on.”

“Percival, as you know, my father’s will was amended to grant a substantial inheritance to the son who marries first.” Simon stood up abruptly, pacing toward the window in agitation. “A foolish clause, no doubt meant to motivate me and Oliver to abandon bachelorhood and become more responsible.”

Halting, he turned back to Percival. “Thus far, I have ignored it. But it seems Oliver has become determined to fulfill the terms by proposing to Lady Victoria.”

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