Page 120 of His Duchess of Scandal
“Absolutely not,” Levi swore. “Though, if I had, I would tell you that the raspberry frosting is just delicious.”
“Papa!” Phoebe complained. “Levi is being nasty again.”
But there was such a joyful look on her face, even when she tried to pout.
As soon as Charles turned around, smirking, she rushed over to him. He stood at an easel and was setting up a canvas. Later, he would paint them when the sun began to set. But for now, there was their large group, and there was indeed more cake, and Phoebe was finally happy, and Charles was reaching for Hermia.
She nodded, motioning for him to wait for a moment as she caught a snippet of her mother’s conversation with Levi.
“I am certain one of my daughters has caught your eye, Lord Trewford,” she was saying. “Do you not wish to court any of them?”
“Lady Wickleby, I am certain all of your daughters are as lovely as the one I have been honored to get to know over the last several months, but?—”
“But he is spoken for,” Charles called out, laughing. “Lady Wickleby, Levi’s heart is rather captured, I believe.”
“Oh?” Lady Wickleby looked to Hermia, who only laughed, unable to deny the claim. “By whom?”
Levi shot Charles a glare, but Charles only shrugged.
“It is finally my turn to do the teasing, Levi.” He chuckled. “I have endured your particular brand of it for years. Now, I shall have my fun.”
“But Lady Isabella is a fine woman, regardless,” Lady Wickleby insisted. “Is she not as good as your intended, Lord Trewford?”
“Oh, Mama,” Isabella sighed. “Do not worry.” Glancing at Levi, she grimaced. “It is all right, do not worry about this. I wish you all the best, for I do know the woman you are talking about.”
She flashed him a grin, and he glowered between Charles and Lady Wickleby, at a loss, before he simply sighed and shook his head.
“Well, we do not know!” Josephine called out. “Do share with us, Lord Trewford! Who is the lucky lady? You have a fine life to share with her.”
“Indeed, do tell us the news, Trewford,” William chimed in.
Levi glared at Charles even harder. “You must be very pleased with yourself, Branmere.”
“Most definitely.” Charles smiled innocently. “Josephine, William, I am certain you will learn in due time. Perhaps even at the wedding, which I imagine will be soon enough.”
At that, Levi’s face flushed positively red, and he made a joke about leaving the garden party altogether, but Phoebe planted herself right next to him, offering him another slice of cake.
While everybody was distracted with trying to guess who the mystery lady was, Hermia finally made her way over to her husband, wrapping her arms around him from behind. Her fingers toyed with the buttons on his tailcoat, and she hummed into his shoulder.
“Hello,” she said quietly.
“My wife,” he replied possessively yet softly, pulling her closer. “Are you enjoying your afternoon?”
Hermia nodded, nuzzling his neck for a brief, indulgent moment before pulling back. “I am. But I will enjoy it even more once we are alone.”
Charles turned around and cupped her face. “Shortly, my Duchess. Shortly.”
They made their way over to rejoin the family, but Hermia frowned at her mother’s fussing.
“Oh, do not put me through so much grievance before your debut, Alicia. I cannot handle another?—”
Lady Wickleby stopped at the silence around her, finding herself facing Hermia’s glare.
She was not afraid to speak up against her parents as much anymore, and her mother cringed before clamping her mouth shut, nodding.
“I will be blessed to have such an independent daughter speaking her mind,” she corrected. “Maintain propriety, though, I beg you.”
“Yes, yes, Mother,” Alicia sighed. “I already have my plans.”
