Page 69 of The Risky Wager of a Masked Lady
“My dear brother!” Angeline gushed, smiling coyly at him. “I hope I didn’t disturb you at this late hour!”
“I rather thought you were already in France these last three weeks, sister. What has held up your journey?” he replied without a hint of welcome.
“Gregory, you know that I have no wish to leave you. We’ve had our disagreement and I’m now prepared to make amends. Come, we left off on such bad terms, let’s put all of that unpleasantness behind us!”
The Duke narrowed his eyes, then was struck by a sudden realization. “He turned you away, didn’t he?”
“What?” the Duchess demanded, feigning insult at her brother’s accusation.
“Your husband. He would not receive you and therefore you’ve come crawling back here to snake your way into my home once again. Isn’t that it?”
“How dare you insinuate such a thing, Gregory! My husband received me with open arms, welcoming me home alongside our children!” she snarled. “I am only back here because I know how much you need me. And you’ve yet to utter a kind word for my sacrifice!”
“Oh, there’s no need of you here, Angeline,” he replied slowly, refusing to rise to his sister’s words. “My household is quite steady at the moment, and doing very well.”
“Nonsense. You cannot even host your own dinners without a woman’s touch, let alone throw a ball. And to think that you’re being so callous when I’ve come back here to look after you and your interests.” The Duchess once again remembered her plight and attempted what must have been a pleasant, loving expression.
“Ah, then your voyage must have prevented you from learning of my good news,” the Duke began before a flicker of movement at the staircase caught his eye. “Speaking of which, here is the good news now! Come down, my dear, we have a visitor.”
Angeline whirled around angrily then clutched her chest when she took sight of the other person.
“I heard the sound of raised voices, my dear,” the woman said. “I hope everything is all right?”
“Gregory! What have you done?!” Angeline cried, turning back to her brother and forgetting all pretense of affection for him.
“Why, I’ve married recently. You do remember meeting my bride once before, do you not?” The Duke held out his hand and the younger woman came to his side, placing her arm in his and smiling with the truest of loving adoration. The Duchess’ eyes went wide with rage.
“You!” she hissed, pointing at her brother’s wife and forgetting herself entirely. “You set a trap for my poor brother and sank your greedy claws into him!” She turned to her brother and demanded, “How could you go and marry that penniless, worthless simpleton Lady Harriet?”
“You will remember yourself, sister, or be away from here at once. I’m pleased to introduce my wife. Harriet, Duchess of Fenworth, this is my sister, Angeline,” he said, ignoring his sister’s own title. “I believe you remember her, as she’s rather a difficult creature to forget.”
“I’m pleased to meet you formally, even if I’m rather perplexed at your arrival at this late hour,” Harriet replied coolly, looking down at the now-bedraggled woman and refusing to let this sister upset her. She turned to her husband and said, “Dearest, I’m sure the housekeeper could be troubled to make up a room for our guest, but don’t you think it’s time to come to bed?”
“You’re absolutely right, my dear. I’ll inquire with Mrs. Bancroft and be along right away.” He kissed Harriet on the cheek and smiled adoringly as she returned to the stairs, then turned to face his sister. “My goodness, Angeline, are you feeling all right? You look as if you’ve just been taken ill.”
“I think I might be!” she cried, clutching her chest as a new idea formed in her mind. “I might need to be put to bed. Can you call the physician?”
“Oh, that might take far too long. I’ll send for the carriage to take you to the hospital at once,” the Duke replied, gesturing to the butler to send for it.
“What? You would send me away when I may very well be dying? Cast out of my own home?” She fell to the ground, loudly sobbing.
“Dear, dear sister, you must remember…” the Duke began crouching down beside her. She looked up hopefully, watching him through her teary eyes. “This isn’t your home. Goodbye.”
He stood up and turned his back, ignoring her cries for forgiveness, and ascended the staircase to where his loving wife awaited.
The End?
