Page 32 of His Duchess of Scandal
Suddenly, a voice spoke up, shattering the moment.
“Excuse me. I hope you were not leaving without setting up an official introduction to your wife, Charles.”
Both Hermia and the Duke whirled around, but it was Hermia who first spotted the blonde man from the ceremony earlier. He pushed his way through her sisters, who patiently waited their turn.
She was already trying to avoid looking at her parents, but this man’s arrival certainly helped.
“Duchess,” the Duke said, “this is Levi, the Marquess of Trewford.”
“And…?” Lord Trewford prompted.
“And that is all.”
Lord Trewford sighed. “And I am the Duke’s closest friend. He always fails to mention such a thing, but here we are. Regardless, Your Grace, you are most beautiful. In fact, you are more beautiful in real life than…Well.”
He grinned, all roguish charm, and Hermia’s face heated.
“Levi,” the Duke snapped.
Lord Trewford laughed nervously and rubbed the back of his neck. “My apologies, Your Grace. I forgot it was forbidden to speak of such things.”
“It is not,” Hermia assured him quickly. “But thank you. It is quite all right. I am flattered, in fact.” Her attention strayed to the glare the Duke was giving him, his lips pressed together into a thin line. “You must come and join us for dinner sometime at Branmere Hall. I would like to get better acquainted with everybody.”
It has been a lonely year, and I miss my life. I miss socializing.
“I would be delighted.” Lord Trewford nodded solemnly before taking her gloved hand and pressing a kiss to her knuckles.
Hermia smiled before he stepped aside, joining Josephine and William.
Finally, her sisters stepped forward.
Her throat closed up at the thought of leaving them. It was no exile to France, but the fact remained that she would still not be able to cross the hallway and find out if Alicia was writing yet another essay on Mary Astell, or if Sibyl was fantasizing about her debut.
She would not knock on Isabella’s door to know if her sister was twirling around in her next ball gown, already writing a list of the traits she wanted her future husband to have.
And Heavens, it all broke her heart such that she almost let her bravado. The deep crack in her heart grew and grew, until she had to stop herself from tearing up as Sibyl threw her arms around her.
Hermia looked skyward.
Dear God, how could she leave them? She had practically raised them, focused on their upbringing as opposed to her own. Shehad put them first, had doted on them, and now she was leaving them behind.
“Sister,” Sibyl whispered, “you will take care of yourself, won’t you? You have waited for this day for a long time.”
“Do not be silly,” Hermia said, forcing strength into her voice. “This day is just like any other.”
“Oh, but Hermia, we both know it is not. You had put aside your dream for years, and now it’s here before you. You deserve it.”
“Do not make her cry in front of her husband,” Alicia interjected. “Heavens forbid he will think he has to save a weeping maiden.”
Her youngest, pragmatic sister stepped forward as Sibyl released her.
Alicia tried to laugh off her comment, but Hermia saw the sheen of tears in her eyes.
“Heavens forbid, indeed.” She laughed.
But Alicia rushed into her arms, hugging her tightly.
Once again, that crack deepened in her heart.
