The Devious Duchess Read Free Page A

plan to come.”
    On this speech, she placed her note on the table and hobbled out of the breakfast parlor.
    “I hope Dudley says yes. I’m looking forward to that lobster and champagne,” Belami said. Then he took up his cup and drained it.
    As Dudley seldom left his house, Deirdre couldn’t be so cruel as to encourage his hope. The best course was to change the subject. “Would you like to walk or drive over to the Grange?”
    “Let’s walk. It will take up an hour of the morning.”
    She got her bonnet and pelisse and met him in the front hall. The Grange was a half mile away by road, but only a short walk across the meadow. The breeze was brisk enough that they settled on the latter route. This corner of Wiltshire had escaped the heavy snow that blanketed part of England. There were patches of white nestled around the roots of bushes and dead weeds, but the walking was not difficult. While the landscape was austere in its winter colors, it wasn’t without some subdued beauty. Belami admired the subtle shadings of beige and brown and gray, and the gentle undulations of the terrain. He kept an eye peeled for rabbits or any small game that might offer him the sport of shooting.
    Deirdre put her hand on his arm, and they struck out into the wind. “I’m afraid you’re finding the time dragging,” she said.
    “Only because I’m impatient to get on with the wedding and leave for Italy. Let’s speak to the minister today and set a date. It would be no kindness to invite folks to the country in this weather. We’ll have a small do,” he urged.
    “Your mother will want to be here at least. And Pronto Pilgrim will be your best man, I think you mentioned?”
    “Yes, I wouldn’t feel properly married without Pronto to make a shambles of the occasion, and Mama to aid and abet him,” he agreed, smiling at the thought of these loved ones. “I have the feeling the duchess is dragging her feet in the matter. She isn’t about to change her mind on us, is she?”
    “No, it’s only a little delay. She’s afraid that if Dudley learns I’ve married such an out-and-outer as Lord Belami, he’ll leave his money to Nevil.”
    “Good God, I hope you’re not hinting we must wait till Dudley’s stuck his fork in the wall!” he exclaimed, staring at her.
    “It’s not so bad as that,” she consoled him. "Merely she plans to pick his brains at this party and steer him back to a proper course after Nevil’s visit. He had his lawyer called to the Grange, you see, and that looks as though Auntie might have been diddled out of what she firmly considers ‘her’ fortune,” she explained.
    “She worries in vain,” Belami said. “It’s been my experience that a young lady’s nabbing herself a good parti has just the opposite effect. The relatives are so proud of her that they shower her with all the gold she no longer requires. It’s the ones foolish enough to marry a pauper who find themselves cut off by the family as well. I’ve always found that very odd,” he said, frowning into the distance.
    The trip passed quickly, and within a quarter of an hour, they stood at the front door of a large but badly dilapidated house, banging the knocker.
    “Uncle Dudley doesn’t keep a butler, and Mrs. Haskell is away, so we’ll let ourselves in,” Deirdre said, and grasped the knob. It refused to turn, however, so Belami banged the knocker again, more loudly.
    Their wait wasn’t really very long, but it seemed long with the wind whistling about their ears and pinching their noses. At last there was the sound of footsteps beyond, and the door opened a crack. It was the face of Polly Shard, the servant, that peeped out at them.
    “Oh, it’s you, miss!” she gasped, and opened the door to let them in.
    “We’ve come to see Uncle, Polly. I hope he’s out of bed,” Deirdre said.
    Polly was a famous flirt. Her dancing brown eyes, her forward manner, and her apple cheeks had made her a favorite with the local men. But her