Page 24 of In Scandal with the Duke
Elizabeth choked on her drink, caught off guard by her mother’s words, and alarm stabbed through her chest. “I beg your pardon?” she sputtered, wiping her mouth with a napkin as embarrassment flushed her cheeks.
“You were muttering to yourself,” her aunt chimed in, a smile playing at the corners of her lips, no doubt thinking she was catching a private daydream about a potential suitor.
Embarrassed, Elizabeth felt the heat travel from her cheeks down to her throat. “Forgive me, I had not realized I spoke my thoughts aloud.”
“Is all well? I have never seen you so preoccupied,” her aunt pressed, exchanging a knowing glance with Elizabeth’s mother.
“Is it because of the duke?” her mother added, tilting her head slightly, a speculative gleam in her eye.
“I am certain it is because of the duke,” her aunt said, “or Lord Jenson. You looked beautiful dancing with them. I wish you had not left the ball early. Many more gentlemen would have asked you to dance. Did you form a favorable impression of the earl?”
Elizabeth directed a cool stare at her aunt. “You will forgive me, my lady; you will no longer be privy to my private thoughts because you have shown your disregard and contempt for them.”
Her aunt’s eyes widened in shock.
“Elizabeth!” her mother gasped, her voice sharp as she tossed down her napkin. “You will not speak to your aunt in such a tone.”
“Forgive me, Aunt,” Elizabeth murmured, softening her voice. “I was not aware my tone was uncivil. Please reimagine I said those words as sweetly as possible.”
Her brother closed his eyes as if in pain, clearly discomforted by the tension at the table. “It was good of His Grace to dance with Bette,” Brandon interjected, attempting to steer the conversation away. “However, Aunt Sally, Mother, please remove all matchmaking thoughts. The duke is not for marriage. Aunt, you should know more than mother of the duke’s reputation about town.”
“What reputation is that?” Elizabeth asked, feigning nonchalance.
“Are you speaking about that ghastly business of that young lady trying to trap the duke into a marriage?” her aunt inquired.
“Yes, Aunt. There are truths to the rumors. Basil is so decided against marriage that he did not marry that young lady even to save her reputation,” Brandon said. “I also heard she was not the first to try such a wicked scheme.”
Elizabeth remembered the gossip she had overheard the first night she saw the duke.
Her aunt delicately dabbed her mouth with a napkin before saying, “You cannot be absolutely sure that—”
“I am certain of it,” Brandon said firmly. “The duke dancing with Bette was an apology for the duchess’s harsh words. Please do not read much into it and allow unrealistic expectations to grow for her.”
Elizabeth allowed her mouth to quirk in a small smile. “Do not be silly, Brandon. I would never delude myself about the duke. Furthermore, I am no longer seeking a husband this season, and as I will abstain from attending balls, it is unlikely we will meet again.”
Silence fell over the table. Elizabeth picked up her hot chocolate again, sipping as if her heart wasn’t quaking with pain.
“Elizabeth,” her aunt said softly after a moment.
Taking a deep breath, Elizabeth gripped her cup, letting the heat from it warm her and glanced at her aunt. “Yes, Aunt?”
“I am deeply sorry, Elizabeth,” her aunt replied, her tone earnest. “I did not mean for you to give up. That is not how I wished for you to interpret my actions!”
“What exactly did you mean, Aunt?”
“I only meant to help you to find your happiness.”
She took a sip from her cup, staring at her aunt over the brim. “With a gentleman who only wishes to know me because of my wealth?”
Her aunt waved a hand dismissively. “You are overthinking that. Many marriages in thetonare formed due to—”
“I do not care about other marriages in theton, Aunt. I care about mine. And given that I will never be assured of a man wanting me because he cares for me, I no longer have any interest in trying.”
Elizabeth pushed back her chair and stood. “If you will excuse me, I did not rest properly last night, and I am exhausted.”
She hastened from the dining room, down the hallway, and then climbed the stairs to her bedchamber. Once there, Elizabeth tossed herself onto the bed, hugging a pillow to her chest, hating that tears once more pricked behind her lids.
A gentle knock sounded, the door opened, and her mother entered. She closed the door softly behind her and walked over to sit on the edge of the bed, her face etched with concern. She reached out, her hand resting gently on Elizabeth’s arm in a comforting gesture.
