Page 13 of A Gamble with the Rakish Duke
Oliver patted his wife’s hand in gentle warning, as if he’d heard the way her breath caught when the door opened.
He flashed Lady Portsfield a charming smile. “It’s wonderful to see you, Lady Portsfield. Thank you for your invitation. You look lovely as usual.”
“Flattery can get you everywhere in my house, Your Grace. Please come in.” Lady Portsfield, in her fifties and thrice married, giggled like a debutante.
“My husband is right. You are positively glowing, Lady Portsfield,” Alexandra agreed.
Oliver looked at her suddenly. It seemed that he was surprised she sounded sincere.
They followed Lady Portsfield to the parlor, where other ladies of thetonof various ages were enjoying tea.
Oliver groaned inwardly. Dealing with one lady was one thing. But dealing with a gaggle of chattering ladies was a challenge he and Alexandra had never faced before.
“It is said, Your Grace, that you prefer keeping Her Grace in the countryside—perhaps for the idyllic setting it offers. Rumor also has it that the two of you enjoy sequestering yourselves in such romantic retreats,” one of the ladies declared, sounding as if she had been bursting to say the words.
Alexandra frowned, but then she quickly plastered on a smile. She and Oliver had never done anything romantic. Even having tea together seemed slightly like a battle.
“Oh, you are right, Lady Celie. Only now I am ready to share her with the rest of theton.”
The other women murmured in what felt like a mix of awe and envy. Alexandra thought that the reaction meant they would be saved from any further investigation.
She was wrong.
“So, how did you keep your love alive after having lived apart for quite some time?” asked Lady Celie, squinting at them through her pince-nez.
“Oh, yes! I also want to know,” Lady Portsfield agreed, nodding her head excitedly.
Despite her panic, Alexandra managed to answer, “By writing letters.”
However, her…dearhusband, whom she would strangle once they were back home, said, “By visiting each other frequently.”
The ladies looked at Alexandra, then at Oliver, and then back again.
Oliver cleared his throat.
“We did both, to be frank,” Alexandra blurted, nodding enthusiastically just like Lady Portsfield. She heard her husband cough to hide his laughter, and it made her furious. “Lots of letters. Lots of visits.”
“Ah,” the ladies said in unison, fanning themselves.
Lady Portsfield, ever the curious hostess, leaned in closer, her eyes twinkling with anticipation. “And tell us, Your Grace, what was the most memorable gift His Grace has given you?”
“A beautiful sapphire necklace,” Alexandra replied without missing a beat.
“A new horse,” Oliver answered simultaneously, freezing as he realized his mistake.
Alexandra blinked rapidly, her smile tightening. “Oh yes! The necklace was for a special occasion, of course. But the horse was just… because he thought I needed the exercise.”
The ladies exchanged knowing looks, murmuring how thoughtful Oliver was, even if they seemed puzzled by the connection between the gifts.
Lady Portsfield clapped her hands together, thrilled by the show. “And what is His Grace’s favorite breakfast, Your Grace?”
“Porridge with honey,” Alexandra declared confidently.
“Ham and eggs,” Oliver said at the same time.
Alexandra shot him an exasperated look while the ladies tittered behind their fans.
Oliver gave her a sheepish grin and shrugged. “Well, it depends on the day. Doesn’t it, my love?”
