Page 4 of A Bride for the Forbidden Duke
The voice of her friend, Evelina Stapleton, drifted to her mind quietly, as if from far away.
A clatter surprised Veronica, and she startled, looking to find her pouting friend, who had set her teacup down with a loud, displeased sound.
“And our book heroine returns,” Evelina teased. “Do tell, what plagues your mind?”
“Nothing,” Veronica answered, but her voice was too quiet and unconvincing, and her friend knew her better than that.
“Do not presume me simple, Veronica.” Her friend gave her a teasing smile.
Viscount Fernwell’s daughter was a blonde-haired, petite girl with pretty blue eyes that blinked at Veronica as if she was a doll with a curious tilt to her head. Her hair was half bound upwards intricately while the rest fell in loose waves. She sipped her tea, looking at Veronica. Once again, she set the cup down audibly.
The parlor of Fernwell House was a decorated affair with pale blue walls and mahogany furniture that was comfortable and relaxing. It got Veronica out of the mindset of being in her own house, a practical mausoleum. She truly did love attending Fernwell House, especially when the Fernwell’s staff prepared macarons.
She popped another tart dessert piece into her mouth and chewed, buying herself time. This must have been how her mother felt several nights ago when Veronica had uncovered her secret.
“Your mind is never so far away,” Evelina persisted. “What is the matter?”
“There is no matter,” she answered airily, shaking her head. “I am merely indisposed after several fitful nights of sleep.”
It was entirely a lie. Ever since catching Lord Barwicke in their gardens, she had been on alert through the night, hoping to catch him in the act of taking advantage of her mother. But as of yet, the two had become more secretive now that Judith knew that Veronica knew, or Veronica had not been fortunate enough to hear as much as she hoped.
Evelina gave her a look over the rim of her teacup, entirely unconvinced. “Are you thinking about Robert?”
Veronica’s hands trembled as she set down her teacup, swallowing. Her pale blue dress with its capped, puff sleeves and the delicate, embroidered design, suddenly felt too cinched. Her chest tightened, and she wished to free herself of the restraints. Her cheeks flushed, for how could she admit the true woes on her mind? They were not hers to tell. She could not bring shame to her mother and discuss the exchange happening under the roof of Grantham House.
“Indeed,” she replied simply, nodding.
“Oh, Veronica.” Evelina sighed and moved her chair closer, reaching out to place her hand on her friend’s gloved one. “The Earl will be found! You shall see. And when he does, you shall host a party in honor of his return, and everybody will forget all about it soon after. Everything will work out, and your mama will be herself again. My mama does miss visiting Grantham.”
“She does not attend our house anymore,” Veronica acknowledged. “Why is that?”
“The last several times, the Dowager Countess looked at Mama through an upstairs window, and her staff reported her as out on a social call.”
That will be her shame, driving her away from her friends, Veronica thought sadly.I am glad she still visits Lady Hastings, however.
Lady Fernwell was quite the gossip whereas Lady Hastings had been known to experience a scandal or two of her own several decades ago. If Veronica’s mother turned to someone in this awful time, it was no wonder she found kin in Lady Hastings. Still, it would be lovely to know her mama might take advantage of all the help and support she could. Normalcy was still needed.
Veronica reminded herself of that now as Evelina took a macaron, smiling indulgently.
“At your brother’s return party, we shall have a whole stand of macarons, and we shall eat every last one. Let us look forward to that as I am certain it is only a matter of time before Robert is found.”
They giggled together, and Veronica knew indeed they needed normalcy, even as she tried to push thoughts of her brother’s body, found dead, from her mind.
She had envisioned every horrible way it might be discovered. Half-eaten by a beast, mangled by a fallen building, trampled underfoot of a horse, bloated from drowning.
Her imagination ran cruelly wild.
But she picked up another sweet treat, placed it on her tongue, and chewed to let her mind refocus back on her friend.
Soon, the door closed from the other side of the house, and the soft brush of footsteps announced the return of Lady Fernwell.
“Good afternoon—” she said, her voice ringing and her hips swinging as she walked into the parlor, brandishing a folded piece of paper on which an embossed logo announced itself as the local gossip sheet. “I have brought the news with me.” But when she saw Veronica, she slowed her gait, her smile faltering. “Lady Veronica.” She inclined her head towards her, and Veronica smiled in greeting.
“It is a lovely afternoon, Lady Fernwell, would you agree?”
“Indeed.”
“Oh, Mama,” Evelina sighed exasperatedly. “I do not understand why you read that gossip drivel. It is merely speculation, written for the entertainment of those fortunate to not endure something publicly, and for those whoareinvolved, they are humiliated and shunned.”
