Page 4 of The Duke's Twin
“On the contrary.” The duke’s gaze flitted to Rebecca’s face. “I’m honored that you have consented to visit us. Please, Mr. Livingston, introduce me to your lovely wife and daughters.”
Lydia was at Rebecca’s side, their hands briefly touching in a silent show of support.
Their father stepped forward. “Of course. May I present to you my wife, Matilda, and my two daughters, Rebecca and Lydia.”
The duke bent into a half bow of respect. His eyes moved from their mother’s face to Lydia’s before finally settling upon Rebecca. Was it her imagination, or was he looking at her a little longer than the others?
Yes, of course he was, because she’d just made an utter fool of herself tripping out of the coach. He probably thought she was a half-wit.
“It is my deepest pleasure to meet you, Mrs. Livingston, Miss Livingston, and Miss Lydia.” The duke straightened and waved for someone to come forward. “Ladies, may I present my brother, Mr. Miles Beresford?” Becca hadn’t noticed the man exiting the manor until now.
Becca stopped breathing all over again as she stared at the two men side by side.
There were two of them.Two!Each the mirror image of the other, though they were dressed differently. The duke wore a deep-green waistcoat and cream-colored breeches, while his brother wore a dark-blue coat and buff breeches. There was a more refined air to the clothes of the duke, whilst his brother was more subdued.
Despite their identical features, the emotions played differently upon each man’s face. The duke had a playful wickedness about his mouth that made Rebecca think of stolen kisses, while his brother’s face bore a sweet gentleness.
Rebecca decided she would busy herself this week with cataloging the differences of the two men. Since neither would be interested in courting her, she would instead treat the week as a scientific endeavor, observing them and delighting herself with her discoveries.
Lord Wiltshire escorted her mother inside, while Mr. Beresford took Rebecca’s arm. He led her away in a daze, yet she did notice that the duke’s twin’s gaze had strayed to Lydia, who trailed behind them with their father.
“Did you have an enjoyable ride down from London, Miss Livingston?” Mr. Beresford asked her. His smile was warm and polite. He seemed to be such a delightful gentleman, and it was a pity that this man was not the duke. He was perfectly suited for Lydia’s gentle, compassionate temperament. They would have made a beautiful couple.
“The ride was lovely. I did not realize that your brother lived but only two hours from London.”
“Oh?” Mr. Beresford replied. “Do you and your sister like living in London?” Again Mr. Beresford’s gaze turned to Lydia as they entered the grand hall.
Rebecca wasn’t sure what to do. It seemed that Mr. Beresford was just as interested in Lydia as the duke was supposed to be. She didn’t wish to hurt Lydia’s chances for a good match, but she also did not want the duke and his twin fighting over her. Men could be rather silly when it came to love, and the last thing Rebecca wanted was to cause a duel between brothers or some other ridiculous spectacle if she misled them. For now, however, she would have to content herself with the truth, and she prayed that Mr. Beresford knew his brother’s intentions.
“We like London, but we also enjoy the country.”
“I’m glad to hear it. My brother and I both enjoy the country. I have a lovely little estate just a few miles from here, Beresford House. Perhaps while you’re here, we might have time to ride over and visit it.”
“I would like that.” Rebecca would agree to go riding for any reason. There was nothing so freeing as having the wind whipping through her hair or laughing as her horse leapt over puddles and bushes as they raced along roads deep into the woods or through golden meadows.
Several servants came to escort them to their rooms after the duke informed them that they would be dining in a few hours.
Rebecca was given her own chamber, which had a massive four-poster bed with pale-blue hangings and yellow walls decorated with paintings of flowers. It was a lovely room, and she felt rather spoiled knowing she would spend the entire week here. Her lady’s maid, Sarah, was already setting out her evening clothes.
The maid shared a conspiratorial grin with Rebecca. “Did you see those gentlemen, miss? Not often you see men who are as handsome as they are rich.”
Rebecca was never more glad that she enjoyed a close relationship with her maid. She could talk with Sarah about things she dared not speak about to her mother or sister. A furious blush on both their faces sent them into a fit of giggles.
“They are beautiful, aren’t they? Gentlemen aren’t supposed to be beautiful.” She gave a deep sigh. “No doubt they’ll both fall in love with Lydia, and I’ll somehow have to sort out the mess.” Her tone was a little bitter, and a knot of self-loathing grew inside her.
Is it so much to ask that a man should be interested in me? That I might be found desirable?The truth was, it didn’t matter what she wanted or desired. Men always chose the prettier woman.
Her maid seemed unconvinced. “Perhaps. His Grace seemed to like the look of you when you fell into his arms. He’s a rake, that one. I could tell. He liked holding you, miss. ’Twas plain as day.”
“I think he was just relieved that I didn’t fall flat on my face at his feet.” Still, Sarah’s words gave her a flicker of hope—not that she put much stock in the emotion. Hope had always let her down. It was far better to accept the truth and move on. Lydia would have her choice between the duke and his brother.
With a weak sigh, Rebecca let Sarah help her dress for dinner.
Lord, let this be over with quickly. May Lydia and the duke fall in love so I can return home.There would be no more Seasons amongst theton, not for her. Rebecca was giving up on finding a husband. She was weary of disappointment and tired of hope. At least when it came to love.
“Well,Miles, what do you think of her?” Justin whispered.
Miles blinked and came back to himself. They were all seated in the drawing room, and Miss Lydia had recited some damnable poem that had put him to sleep. He’d managed the feat with his eyes open somehow, but now they were dry and itchy. Lord, how did his brother stand to play the part of a duke like this? Miles had been the duke for only a few hours, and he already wanted to ride home and drown himself in the nearest bottle of brandy.
