Page 15 of Ne'er Duke Well
“Even Tresidder looked alarmed, poor man.”
“All right,” said Lydia. “Let’s add a modicum of intelligence to the list of characteristics. What about Beatrice Villeneuve?”
“Lydia,” Selina protested. “She is awful. You cannot mean to suggest her.”
Lydia cocked her head. “Goodness, Selina, you didn’t say ‘pleasant’ was a required characteristic as well.”
“I wouldn’t wish a lifetime with Beatrice Villeneuve on my worst enemy.” And Stanhope was far from that. She liked him. She had always liked him, even though he was terribly unsettling. “Plus there are children involved. Beatrice Villeneuve would eat Stanhope’s little brother for breakfast.”
“All right,” Lydia said. “I give up. Clearly you’ve someone in mind already.”
“Um,” said Selina. “Well. I did have one woman.”
“Who is this paragon of virtue?”
“Er. You, Lyddie.”
Lydia’s mouth fell open, then snapped closed with a click of her teeth. “I?”
“It’s perfectly logical,” Selina said quickly. “Your family is one of the most well respected in England. There’s never been a hint of scandal attached to your name—”
“Only because no one has yet seen me vomit at a ball—”
Selina ignored this. “You are beautiful and clever, and you’d never let Stanhope make a fool of himself.”
“Selina,” Lydia groaned. “Not you too. My mother has been tormenting me for years. Even you cannot suddenly make me into a different person.”
“That’s the beauty of it,” said Selina. “You need not charm him if he’s already looking for a bride. It’s a wonderful idea, and he’d be lucky to have you. And”—her voice turned wheedling—“if you were to marry Stanhope, your mother would never bother you again.”
“How do you think we would get on in our marriage then,”Lydia asked, “if I am unable to speak? Seems like it might make day-to-day life rather awkward.”
“This is promising!” Selina said brightly. “Already thinking about your married life.”
Lydia spluttered. “I—what? I meant precisely the opposite!”
“Consider it,” Selina said. “Just consider it. Let me put you on the list.”
“I cannot be a politician’s wife. How could I host a dinner party? It wouldn’t work, Selina.”
“It would. You’d be the duchess. You could do whatever you liked. And truly, Lyddie—I think you would be happy in a house of your own.”
“I hate this,” Lydia said. “I hate you.”
“You do not,” said Selina. “You adore me.”
Lydia rolled her eyes. “What about Iris Duggleby? If we’re considering awkward wallflowers for the position.”
“Stop that,” said Selina. “She is not.Youare not.”
“There’s no sense in ignoring reality,” Lydia said. “What do you think about replacing me on your list with Iris?”
Iris Duggleby. Selina twirled her quill pen between her fingers. She hadn’t considered Iris, but in truth she rather liked Iris for the role. Like Lydia, Iris hadn’t precisely been a hit on the Marriage Mart. She was a well-known bluestocking with an abiding passion for antiquities, and she made no apparent effort to pretend interest in the social whirl.
Iris did not suffer fools. Selina recalled the expressionless stare Iris had directed toward a baron’s son that first Season when he’d asked airily if she thought he should follow the Prince of Wales’s example and polish his boots with champagne.
“I cannot imagine having an opinion on this matter,” Iris had replied.
Selina had nearly choked on the desire to laugh.
