The Runaway Duchess (20 page)

“It
is as though I am a lost puppy.”

“A
very expensive lost puppy.” Dianna’s eyes suddenly lit with mischief. “I
believe the last reward was listed for one thousand pounds. Do you know how
many new dresses that could buy?”

“You
are
not
returning me.”

“Of
course not! Although not all of us have rich husbands you know,” she grumbled
under her breath, only to smile brightly when Charlotte slanted her a narrow
eyed glare. “Oh, do not look at me like that. It was a jest.”

“It
was not amusing.”

“Yes
it was.” Dianna’s smile turned impish. “You are just grumpy because you have to
tell your mother you married a commoner. I cannot say I blame you. In fact, if
I were you I would have stayed in Scotland.”

“Brat,”
Charlotte said affectionately, bumping her elbow.

They
stepped to the side to let a rider pass before they resumed walking. Charlotte nibbled on her bottom lip as she weighed the pros and cons of dampening their
reunion with talk of her failing marriage. She doubted Dianna, who had no
experience with men to speak of, would be able to offer any sound advice, but
she had always found it helpful to discuss her problems aloud, even if a
solution did not become readily apparent.

Opening
her mouth to do just that, she snapped her teeth smartly together when a
woman’s voice rang out. A very shrill, very familiar woman’s voice. A woman’s
voice who was calling them by name.

“Yoo
hoo, Lady Dianna! Is that you? It is! Oh, how fun to run into you. Who is that
with you? Is it… Why, Lady
Charlotte
! Heavens, what a wonderful
surprise!”

Recognizing
the voice and the woman it belonged to, Charlotte stopped dead in her tracks.
“Please tell me that is not who I think it is,” she groaned.

Dianna
held tight to her friend’s arm. “I wish I could, but I cannot. Step lively,
now. It appears as though you will have to come up with a story to explain your
marriage faster than you planned. Lady Annabeth, how do you do?” she called out
politely as the woman who had (unfortunately) spotted them from across the lane
hurried closer in a flurry of plum colored skirts, dragging her companion, a
pale faced woman with a shock of orange hair peeking out beneath a frumpy
bonnet, behind her.

The
only daughter of a Viscount, Lady Annabeth Woolly was, at four and thirty,
quite firmly on the shelf. While most women her age would have retired to the
country to live out their spinsterish days chaperoning up and coming
debutantes, Annabeth was firmly ensconced in the London social scene and, in
addition to attending every ball and function she could get an invitation to,
was the nosiest gossip Charlotte had ever had the displeasure to meet.

In
addition to repeating and twisting every succulent piece of news she heard, she
was also a vain woman who was known for her over the top dresses that boasted
enough bows and gaudy lace to easily clothe two women besides herself. With the
high fashion of the Georgian Era long past and simple, subdued dresses
currently on trend she stuck out like a sore thumb wherever. Charlotte rather
thought she preferred it that way.

“How
are you?” Annabeth trilled. The long ostrich feather she had secured in the
middle of her towering pile of brown curls bobbed and weaved as she talked.
“This is my dear friend Miss Claire Greene recently of North Wales. I have been
investigating my family tree, you know, and Miss Claire is a fourth cousin of
mine! Isn’t that delightful?” She wrapped an arm around Claire’s shoulders and
pulled her tight against her sizable bosom. “Can’t you see the resemblance?”

Charlotte
saw absolutely nothing in common between the shy, doe eyed Claire and the full
faced, ruddy cheeked Annabeth but she managed a short, clipped nod
nevertheless. “Yes, quite similar.”

“Claire,
this is Lady Dianna Foxcroft who lives right on the other side of the park, and
her dear friend Lady Charlotte Vanderley who has been… Well, wouldn’t you know,
I have no idea
where
she has been.” All fluttering eyelashes and feigned
innocence, Annabeth said, “Would you care to enlighten us, darling?”

Charlotte
could have easily given a hundred excuses for her absence. She was visiting
family. She went to a spa retreat on the coast. She was kidnapped by bandits.
Any excuse would have been better than revealing what had really happened to
Annabeth, of all people, but some small sport of her – the devilish part, no
doubt – wanted to see the older woman’s expression when she learned the truth.

“My
surname is actually no longer Vanderley.”

“Oh
no?” Annabeth breathed, all but licking her lips as if she could taste the
tantalizing bit of news Charlotte was about to divulge. “Pray tell, what is it
now?”

Dianna
reached out with the heel of her walking shoe to discreetly stomp of Charlotte’s toes beneath the hem of her dress, a silent warning that Charlotte resolutely
ignored. “Mrs. Graystone. I was married, you see. In Scotland. That is where I
have been.”

Annabeth
staggered back a step. “No,” she gasped, her eyes widening with equal parts
excitement and horror. Claire, looking far less interested, wandered over to a
nearby bench and sat down. “Married, you say? But… do forgive me, my dear, were
you not betrothed to the Duke of Tarrow?”

“Their
engagement was announced prematurely,” Dianna interceded.

Their
was a crafty gleam in Annabeth’s eyes that Charlotte took an instant dislike
to, and she knew the renowned gossip would not be satisfied until she had an
interesting story to tell anyone and everyone who would listen. Pasting a smile
on her face, she pulled off her glove for the second time and held out her
hand, showing off the band on her ring finger.

“It
is quite simple,” Annabeth observed as she leaned closer. “Although I know how
some women admire that style so. It would be much too small and plain for my
tastes, but then again, it’s not my ring, is it?”

It
took every inch of control Charlotte possessed – not to mention Dianna’s
restraining grip on her arm – not to curl her hand into a fist and punch
Annabeth right in the middle of her big ugly nose. “The ring is a family
heirloom,” she said tightly. “It belonged to Gavin’s great-great-great
grandfather.” It was far more likely the ring had been picked up at a two bit
pawn shop, but since Gavin had never actually told her where he got it, she saw
nothing wrong with a bit of improvisation.

“Gavin,
you said?” Annabeth’s head lifted. “Gavin Graystone? Surely you do not mean to
tell me you married
Gavin Graystone
. He… He is… Well,” she said, for
once in her life genuinely appearing at a loss for words, “I do not suppose I
have to tell
you
what he is. Gavin Graystone,” she muttered as her
forehead creased. “Heavens. What is the world coming to?”

“He
is a wonderful husband,” Charlotte said through gritted teeth. “And easily
worth ten dukes you meddling, pompous—”

“What
my dear friend is trying to say,” Dianna interrupted hastily, “is that from the
first moment they met at – was it the Haversham’s ball?”

Charlotte
took a deep breath and nodded.

“That
is what I thought. A ball, coincidentally enough, that Mr. Graystone was
invited to given his recent, ah, financial success. From the first moment their
eyes met across the room it was love at first sight,” she declared
dramatically. “It is quite romantic, now that I think about it. Almost like a
modern day fairytale.”

It
had
been rather romantic, Charlotte supposed, even though her first
meeting with Gavin had not occurred anything like Dianna said. It made for a
good story, however, and helped explain why a lady would leave a duke to marry
a commoner.

Love
was still the universal language that spread across all social classes, and
even the most hardened, cynical hearts inside of the
ton
could not
ignore its existence.

But
like a scruffy haired terrier with a very tasty bone, Annabeth refused to give
up without a fight. She was out for blood and would settle for nothing less. “I
truly thought you were engaged when you attended the ball, darling. Wasn’t the
announcement printed in the papers just that morning? I remember, of course,
because I was so very happy for you!”

“I
bet you were,” Charlotte growled.

Another
stomp on her toes, this one hard enough to make her wince. 

“Dearest
Lady Annabeth, as I said before the engagement was declared prematurely. The
duke was a bit over enthusiastic in his wooing of Charlotte and assumed she
would accept his offer of marriage before asking her,” Dianna explained with
the sweetest of smiles.

That,
at least, was the truth.

Bettina
and Crane signed the engagement contracts and approved the printing of the
announcement without speaking a word to Charlotte; a betrayal she was still
bitter over. Not towards the duke, of course. The man was a snake in the grass
and could not help himself. Any ill feelings – any feelings at all – would be
wasted on him, as he was no longer her concern and unlikely to ever change his
evil ways. But as for her mother… Suffice it to say she had a few choice words
in store, and not all of them were going to be ‘I am sorry’.

“I
am sure you of all women know how men can be when dazzled by a pretty face,”
Dianna went on, adding enough sugar to her tone to have Annabeth blushing.

“Indeed
I do,” the spinster declared. “Indeed I do. Well, it was lovely seeing you,
Lady Dianna and you,
Mrs.
Graystone.” Her eyes lit up. “I shall have to
call once you are settled in. Yes, I do believe I shall.”

“I
would enjoy that immensely,” Charlotte lied.

“I
do hope we can count on your discretion, Lady Annabeth.” Glancing side to side
as though eavesdroppers lurked in the bushes, Dianna whispered, “Charlotte
would prefer to keep her marriage a secret until she is able to speak to the
duke directly to explain her change of heart. Dear man that he is, she would
never want to cause him undue harm and embarrassment.”

Charlotte
almost choked. The Duke of Tarrow? A
dear
? She knew poisonous vipers
that were sweeter. She wondered what point Dianna was trying to make now, but
since her friend had done such a wonderful job so far at spinning straw into
gold she held her tongue and even managed to twist her lips into something that
vaguely resembled a smile.

Annabeth
pressed a hand over her heart. The half dozen rings she wore glittered in the
sun, each one brighter and gaudier than the last. “I swear on my mother’s life
I shall not breathe a word of this to anyone. Your secret is safe with me,” she
said solemnly.

“How
kind of you,” Charlotte managed.

She
and Dianna waited with identical smiles on their faces for Annabeth to collect
her poor cousin as if she were a bit of baggage and flounce off down the lane,
chattering nonstop the entire way. The moment she was out of earshot Charlotte
expelled her breath in a loud, gusty sigh and rolled her eyes.

“What
a horrible, horrible woman.”

“She
is horrible,” Dianna agreed. “But it is rather fortunate we ran into her.”

“Are
you ill? And what was all that nonsense you were waxing about my speaking to
the duke directly? I have no intention of ever getting within a mile of that
man again. Two, if I can help it.”

“If
you had not opened your big mouth and told her about the marriage in the first
place I wouldn’t have had to say anything,” Dianna countered. “And
I
know
you hate the duke, but to the rest of the
ton
he was your fiancée.” She
began to walk, and Charlotte followed suit. “You can either come out of this
appearing as a woman who carelessly broke off her engagement with one man – one
very powerful, influential man – only to marry a nobody—”

Charlotte
scowled. “Gavin is not a nobody.”
She
may have been angry at him, but
that certainly did not give others leave to speak poorly of him, not even her
best friend.

“Yes,
yes, once again
I
know that, but it is not me we are trying to convince,
is it? As I was saying, you could be that woman, or you could be the woman who
fell in love at first sight and, even though it pained her terribly, ended her
courtship to an over zealous suitor in favor of marrying her one true love.
Since we were able to convince Lady Annabeth of the latter, that is the version
of events the
ton
will hear first. You will be seen as a romantic
heroine and Gavin your handsome, albeit unconventional hero.”

Charlotte
mulled it over. “But you swore Annabeth to secrecy.”

“And
she swore on her mother’s life. A mother, by the way, who has been dead for
nearly three years now.”

“You
should be a politician,” Charlotte said, shaking her head in amazement and no
small amount of admiration.

“Quite
true,” Dianna said without a hint of modesty. “Unfortunately, I fear that would
not go over well in the House of Lords. Could you imagine if I showed up and
demanded a seat?” Her lips curved. “They would laugh themselves silly.”

They
would indeed, but that was a battle Charlotte would have to leave for another
day. For now she needed to ensure her reintroduction into Society as the new
Mrs. Graystone went smoothly and without angst, for Gavin would have little
need for a wife who was shunned by the
ton
.

They
thought of him as an odd duck, but an odd duck they accepted because of his
wealth and the connections he had forged. Gavin needed those connections to
keep his wealth, and his wealth to keep his connections. Without one the other
suffered dearly, and there was no doubt in Charlotte’s mind that if she came to
threaten either he would cast her aside as quickly as though she were an old
shoe.