Page 23 of The Heiress Gets a Duke
“Still praising him as if he is a saint.” August took a sip of her tea so that she would have something else to focus on besides Rothschild.
It wasn’t easy. The man had hardly left her thoughts since the dinner party. He had been rude, sarcastic, and utterly arrogant. Mother kept going on about his looks and titles, as if those alone could make up for so little else to recommend him. Yes, the man had an acceptable bone structure and lips that promised kissing him wouldn’t be the worst part of a girl’s day. And, yes, she could admit that when his gaze focused on her it made her feel... something. However, she was also intelligent enough to know that it was the practiced look of a libertine and meant entirely nothing.
“I’ve asked Papa to share the reports he’s gathered on the d—” A quick glance at Mrs. Barnes assured her that the needles were still going at full steam. While rumors were already flying since the dinner, there would be no use feeding the rumor mill until things were publicly known. “The information about the gentleman in question, and he has agreed to share it with me, but so far he’s found countless reasons to put it off. I currently have a pile of reports on my desk related to a factory in York. I’m to read them all and write up a recommendation on whether to purchase it or not, and then we will discuss”—another glance at Mrs. Barnes—“the other situation.”
Setting her cup down with a slightly harsher rattle than intended, August asked in a low voice, “Can we not have a discussion without a chaperone? Or at least with the door closed?” As if awaiting the cue, a crash sounded from the front entryway as what sounded like a ladder toppled over.
“I am sorry.” Camille’s face fell seconds before she covered it with her hands. “I should not have asked you over with the preparations under way.”
August scooted closer to her friend and took her in her arms. “Nonsense, I’m not upset about the noise, merely the lack of privacy.” Through it all, the click-clack of the needles could be heard from the direction of the window. “How have you been? It’s been days since we’ve talked. Have you been too busy with the ball, or is it something else?”
“It’s Hereford,” Camille whispered. “He found out about our outing, and he’s livid.”
August’s face went cold, and the numbness crept down her body, where it settled in her belly, drawing forth a ball of dread that settled as heavy as iron. “Please forgive me, Camille.” Keeping her voice to a whisper, she took her friend’s hands. “It’s my fault. I told Papa about that night. I had to admit that I went with a friend, but he must have assumed it was you. I’m so terribly sorry.”
“Why, August?” Twin spots of color appeared in Camille’s cheeks.
Papa’s betrayal stung more than she could face right now. There had been a time not so long ago when Papa would have listened to her and taken her side in the scheme. Why had he hurried off to Hereford like a schoolboy running off to tattle to the headmaster? “I had to tell him because...” The knitting needles continued their clacking, but she lowered her voice even more just to be certain. “Do you remember the fighter from that night?”
Engrossed in the tale, Camille seemed to have forgotten her anger and leaned in closer. “You mean the one you—” She placed the pad of her forefinger against her lips in place of the wordkissed. August’s cheeks flamed—if only she could forget that had happened—and Camille grinned. “I remember him.”
“Well, he is none other than the gentleman in question.”
“No!” Mrs. Barnes jolted at Camille’s screech and gave them both a sharp look. Sobering from her shock, Camille whispered, “That’s impossible.”
“I assure you it’s not. I confronted him with it in thegarden, and he all but admitted it. Same cheekbones, same nose and eyes.”Same lips.“Same height. Think about it, Camille. Only his hair was darker, and that could easily be a cheap dye, and the growth of beard, which a shave can fix. If you noticed, the gentleman had nicks on his forehead and his knuckles.”
“I confess I did not examine him that closely.” Although she raised a brow and commenced studying August very closely. “Why were you?”
August shifted under the scrutiny, fearing that her corset must have been laced too tightly after all. She kept feeling hot, and there didn’t seem to be enough air in the room. “I wasn’t... I didn’t... They were fairly obvious, I thought.”
“Not to me. And why would he participate in such a dangerous activity?”
“For coin, of course. He’s willing to marry a stranger for it. Why not fight for it, too?”
Camille raised her hands. “Because it’s absurd and he’s a d—well, you know what he is.”
“It’s true. I saw him and I know that it was him.”
Camille smiled again as belief made her eyes widen. “Oh my, that’s remarkable. I never would have caught on. Do your parents believe you?”
“No, it hasn’t stopped their plotting at all.”
Nodding in understanding, Camille said, “I think the prospect of someone of his stature in the family is enough to make them disbelieve anything they don’t want to acknowledge.”
That was an understatement. “Agreed, but we’ve gone off track. Please understand that the only reason I said anything was because I hoped that it would save Violet. I kept your name out of it, naively assuming that the omission alone would keep you safe. I’m sorry.”
Camille nodded. “I understand. I would have done the same. The last thing I want is for Violet to suffer a similar fate to me.” Just like that, the spark of intrigue was gone from her eyes to be replaced by sadness.
Guilt tore at August’s heart. “Has he punished you? Has he harmed you?”
“He hasn’t hurt me, but yes to the punishment. I am not allowed to go anywhere, nor am I allowed an ounce of privacy. I cannot be alone with anyone. Doors must always stand open, and my meals are served to me in my room. I am married and a duchess at that, but I might as well be a child who has displeased her father.”
Anger burned a fiery path through August, but she swallowed down the bitterness that rose in her throat. Her anger, no matter how justified, wouldn’t help Camille, and it might only make her feel worse. “I am so sorry for my part in that.”
“No, please don’t. He would have discovered eventually. It was not the first outing or the first punishment. Besides.” She flashed a smile that didn’t reach her eyes. “His sister is always here, and she falsely believes that planning for the annual ball is still her domain. If I were not here constantly, then I couldn’t prove her wrong.”
A not-so-discreet cough from the open door caught their attention. The butler stood there with vague contempt on his face. August glanced at the clock on the mantel and confirmed that precisely fifteen minutes had passed. Apparently, it was the only amount of time allotted to Camille for a social visit. August would have complained, but she supposed she was lucky that Hereford allowed her to visit.
