Page 27 of The Replacement Duchess

“But—”

“Sister, might we leave for the modiste? I would much rather have this discussion with you whilst taking some fresh air.”

“Very well, but we will be discussing this! You cannot avoid this forever, you know.”

And Diana did know, of course, but even so, she could not help but hope that if she continued to push it to one side for a few fleeting moments at a time, perhaps it might never come up again. It was foolish and infantile, but she hated how upset it made Samantha, so much so that it upset her in return, and it was no good for either of them, but it was how it had to be.

And all because she simply had to open her mouth.

It was, however, nice to take in some air. With calling hour having only just finished, there was an absence of young ladies in the streets of Mayfair, meaning an absence of mamas. It was quite the welcome change to amble without a mocking comment slicing through it.

“And what might you be asking for from the modiste?” Samantha asked, seemingly glad to change the topic now.

“I suppose that I shall be happy with whatever she chooses. It is no secret that I am to be a duchess, and from what I have been told by Father, we have ample funds to cover it, and so she can decide what style is the most fitting.”

“How fortunate you are.”

Diana was unsure of quite how she meant that.

The modiste was, of course, all too happy to be in the presence of the two of them. Her smile reached her ears the moment she saw them, which could only be expected, given that she would receive quite the custom from being the chosen modiste for a duchess.

Even such a notorious one as Diana.

“I must admit, Lady Diana,” she said gently as she measured her, “I have had a lot of ladies here discussing yourself and your husband-to-be.”

“I can hardly say I am surprised,” Diana sighed. “It is quite the scandal, a spinster being chosen by a duke.”

“Especially when your sister is there.”

“I wouldn’t marry him,” Samantha said, almost warning her. “He is quite taken by my sister, you know. I should think them a perfect match.”

“Well, should the two of you overcome all of this scandal, the two of you could overcome anything.”

“Scandal?” Diana asked, an eyebrow raised.

She was more than aware of which scandal the modiste was referring to. Any resident in London would have known. However, all that she knew of was that which Samantha had heard about, which was not a great deal either.

“Well,” the modiste replied cautiously, “you must have heard about the reason why the Duke has returned.”

“No, I do not know a thing about it. Might you enlighten me on the matter?”

“Perhaps it would be better to ask him yourself.”

Acting the fool certainly had its positives. The cutting comments were not nearly as effective when the lady on the receiving end was utterly clueless.

“Oh, did His Grace tell you personally about it?”

“No, of course not, but such issues should be discussed between a gentleman and his wife, rather than the entirety of theton.”

“Yes, quite, so perhaps we might wish to keep it that way?”

Diana’s initial desire had been to draw information from her, information that her betrothed would never disclose himself, but there was something in the way she smirked at her as she spoke that made Diana almost territorial. She couldn’t understand why she had had such a reaction, nor why it was so strong, but she could not help herself.

“In other news,” the modiste began again, fixing her bright smile back. “Your father has thetonin quite a flutter at the moment. It is nice to see him, according to some of my customers.”

“I never thought that I would see the day, personally.” Samantha laughed. “He never was the sort to command attention, nor to enjoy it.”

“In any case, he has never been so seen, and given all of the gowns he has requested I create for you, the same shall be said of you both soon enough.”

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