Page 72 of A Duchess Mistaken
Johnathan narrowed his eyes at his younger brother, even as a playful smirk touched his lips. “I have a good mind to arrange another marriage for you.”
“Don’t even think about it. You should pay keener attention to your own happiness. Heaven knows you deserve it more than anyone else.” Christopher reached over to pat Johnathan on the shoulder. “I’m happy for you, brother.”
A warm sensation spread through Johnathan’s chest. He took in the genuine happiness in his brother’s eyes, letting it melt away the icy anxiousness he’d been holding on to without knowing.
“Thank you, brother.”
“Now, if you will excuse me,” Christopher announced as he stood. “I shall make my way to the parlor to enjoy a celebratory drink in both our honors. For you, who has found love. And for me, who has regained his freedom.”
Johnathan chuckled. “Shall I join you then?”
“It would be an honor,” Christopher said with a grin.
As they made their way to the door, Johnathan felt inclined to say, “It may be wise to keep our knowledge of this a secret until I have gotten the chance to sort everything out.”
“Not to worry, brother. I leave it in your capable hands.”
They made their way to the parlor to enjoy a few bottles of Johnathan’s finest brandy, bottles that had belonged to their father far before his death. The memory attached to the bottles, however, did not mar his happiness. In spite of it all, Johnathan could laugh and drink and jest with his brother as if he hadn’t a care in the world. As if he did not have to deal with Lord Reeds demands and secure an approval from Lord Sutton. As if he still did not know who this mysterious man who had stolen Miss Caroline’s heart was.
Tonight, he did not care.
CHAPTER 26
The last thing Agnes wanted to do was sit in the same room as the Countess of Reeds and pretend to be cordial. Especially not after their last encounter. But her mother had insisted that they needed the help of all the ladies—especially the ladies whose honor the ball would be in—for the planning. Considering the fact that the engagement ball was set to happen in three days, Agnes supposed it would be far easier for everyone if she lent her help.
She tried and failed to ignore Lady Reeds scathing glares. She sipped her tea, not missing the way Caroline shifted uncomfortably next to her. No doubt she also noticed her aunt’s glares. Agnes would have been content to ignore it or face it how she wished, but she knew she had to temper her reaction so as not to upset her friend.
“What do you think, girls?” Mary asked, holding up to two flowers in either hand. “Lilies or peonies?”
“Peonies,” Agnes and Caroline said at the same time.
“Lilies,” Lady Reeds said despite the fact that no one had been addressing her.
Agnes set her tea down, not sparing the countess a glance because she knew the look she was bound to give her would be far from ladylike. “So peonies it is. Let us move on, shall we?”
“That is a dull choice,” Lady Reeds protested with a sniff. “Perhaps you two should leave the preparations to us, who already know what we are doing.”
“Now, Lady Reeds,” Mary began but Agnes beat her to it.
“Is it not important for us to learn such things, especially since one of us will be a duchess in due time?”
“You’re right,” Lady Reeds agreed, though the sneer on her face did not seem very encouraging in the slightest. “You may leave then, Miss Agnes. Caroline will have to learn such skills for her role as duchess.”
“It is true that Caroline could stand to learn from this,” Agnes said in a calm tone of voice. “So peonies it is. I’m happy we are in agreement.”
“Your insolence knows no bounds, does it?” Lady Reeds hissed.
“Not, it seems, when I am simply returning it in kind.”
“Do you mean to say thatIam the one being rude toyou? You do not know how to respect your elders!”
“I respect my mother and the dowager duchess a great deal,” Agnes stated simply. She looked at her mother, not missing the mixture of resignation and amusement shining in her eyes.
Lady Reeds shot to her feet. She curled her hands into fists at her sides, shaking in her anger. To Agnes’ surprise, the next voice she heard was not the shrill hiss of the countess but Caroline’s soft yet firm one.
“Aunt, please, we have much to do,” she said. “We have decided on peonies and there is no need to go back and forth about it.”
Silence met her words. Stunned silence. Even the dowager duchess, who had been quietly sipping her tea on the other end of the drawing room, looked over at Caroline.
