Page 88 of Trapped with the Forbidden Duke
“Your Grace.” Allan stood up and executed a bow. “Ah, Rose, see? Did I not tell you that she is a vision?”
“You did indeed, Brother.”
Rose’s face was young and kind, and Edwina searched for the resemblance between her husband and his fair-haired cousins.
“Your Grace.” Rose dropped into a curtsey. “It is an honor to finally meet you.”
“I was telling Her Grace how disappointed we were not to receive an invitation to the wedding,” Allan said delicately, his eyes flicking to Edwina’s left, to Lucien, but his words were directed at Rose.
“Oh, desperately disappointed.” Rose pouted. “The day my cousin got married was always set to be the biggest highlight of my social calendar.”
“When we were children, perhaps,” Lucien muttered stiffly.
At his voice, his cousins stood straighter. Rose curtsied slightly, and Allan even inclined his head, as if they ought to be formal with their own family.
“Cousins.”
“Lucien,” Rose murmured in greeting. “It is good to see you again.”
Lucien only hummed in response before Edwina stepped forward and gestured to the sofas in front of the fireplace. “Please sit. I shall call for some tea.”
At her side, Lucien had gone rigid as he watched his cousins take a seat. “Uncle Barnard has not come with you?”
“He felt it improper,” Rose explained quickly. “After all, this is about us meeting your wife. He did not want old wounds to reopen in his presence. But I believe he already explained his feelings regarding the matter.”
“He did,” Lucien scoffed. “I believe it was right after he requested my presence at his wife’s funeral.”
“Lucien.” Allan’s voice was quiet. “She was our mother.”
“Indeed, and she was not the kindest to you, either. There was a reason why I refused to pay my respects.”
Edwina looked between the three of them and requested tea from one of the maids posted around the room. She rushed off, leaving Edwina with very little else to do except try to change the topic.
“I have heard that you both live in a rather lovely townhouse in Mayfair,” Edwina said, raising her voice to break the tension in the room.
“Oh, yes!” Rose answered, her eyes lighting up, perhaps grateful for the rescue. “We live not far from Miss Giselle, the French modiste. She is ever so excellent, Your Grace! With a dress so fine as yours, you must have visited her.”
“Indeed!” Edwina confirmed. “In fact, my aunt and I visited Miss. Giselle’s many times. His Grace was kind enough to have us fitted for new gowns sewn by her just before our marriage.”
“That is truly generous,” Rose gushed, giggling. “I do hope I will find a husband one day who shall do the same for me.”
“Your brother does the same for you now,” Allan cut in, laughing. “Well, Father and me. You are very well equipped with gowns.”
“A lady can never have too many gowns, no?” Rose gave Edwina a conspiratorial grin. “It is truly fascinating the way she seems toknow everyone’s particularities without ever seeming to consult her notes. For example, she knows that I favor pink and red in the spring, but will only wear blue and lavender in the winter. With the many clients she has, I do not know how she recalls so many things.”
Edwina laughed softly. “That is exactly why she is my aunt’s favorite modiste. That reminds me, I might buy her a gift before we visit her, Lucien.”
She turned to her husband just as the maid returned with tea, finding him staring past his cousins to the gardens outside, his jaw clenched.
What is going on in that head of yours?
But she was unable to ask just yet.
“Lucien?” she prompted quietly, but he just blinked and leaned forward to pour himself a cup of tea. He dropped two sugar lumps into it and stirred it.
“I see you still take a good dose of sugar,” Allan noted, chuckling as he prepared his tea the same way. “Ever since I watched you prepare it that way, I copied you. Now, I do not know if I truly enjoy it that way or if it’s a habit that I am too stubborn to change.”
“Too stubborn, most likely,” Lucien sighed, pouring Edwina a cup of tea as well. He met her gaze briefly before looking away.
