Page 47 of The Duke of Deceit

When her stomach churned after a quick glance at the plate of sticky rolls, bowl of strawberries, and toast, accompanied by a small pot of chocolate, she knew she still hadn’t. So she shook her head and crossed back to her easel, to stare down at her illustration. It was beautiful, a perfect likeness of the delicateyellow flowers she’d seen at Kew. But her heart simply wasn’t in her work.

“I’ve noticed.” Matilda plopped down onto the other chair and gestured at Jess with her chocolate cup as she set out the plates. “So has Simms. The man’s practically beside himself with worry about you.”

Jess didn’t believe that for a moment. Amanda had always been his favorite.

“AndI’venoticed,” her aunt added, her lowered eyes fixed on the silverware as she put it near the plates, “that you haven’t been at all yourself since Lady Holkham’s tea party. Could it have something to do with the flowers you saw in her garden…or a particular duke who surprised everyone by dropping by to return a necklace that isn’t yours—again?”

With a sigh, Jess deflated into her chair. “It wasn’t my fault this time, I promise you.”

“The Duke of Crewe seems to think it was.”

“Well, he is wrong.”

“Please tell me that Mrs. Peterson and Lady Bromley are also very much wrong that you’ve somehow become secretly engaged to him.”

“Of course they are!” Jess was appalled by the idea. “I know exactly the kind of man Crewe is, and I would never marry a man like him.”

“Yet you want your sister to.”

She froze before the answer could snap from her tongue. The hell that Amanda would go through in giving birth to a baby she could never openly love was unimaginable.

But it would have been nothing compared to the hell of marriage to a man who didn’t love her.

Her heart sank to the floor. “No,” she admitted quietly. “Not anymore.”

“So you’ve given up all that nonsense about threatening to cleanse his filthy reputation, then?”

“Yes.” She stared at the empty plate in front of her, doubtful she’d have the appetite to eat breakfast ever again. “He didn’t like it very much and threatened to retaliate.”

“Imagine that,” Auntie mused as she slathered marmalade on her toast. “A man being upset that someone was nosing around in his private affairs.”

Jess rolled her eyes. “Sarcasm does not become you, Auntie.”

“Oh, I think it does. A great deal.” She crunched a bite of toast between her teeth. “After all, there should be some benefits of reaching my advanced age, and if sarcasm isn’t one of them, then I shall be deeply put out.”

Jess knew what Auntie was doing. Flippancy instead of an outrightI told you so. Yet it didn’t make her feel any better. “I hope never to see His Grace again, in any capacity.”

Matilda paused, her jam knife pointed in the air. “You told him that? To his face?”

“Yes.” And a lot more besides. Or at least she’d wanted to. In retrospect, the blasted devil had gotten off far too easily. He deserved a tongue-lashing that would have left him humbled. Oh, what she wouldn’t give to be able to slap him again!

No. Her shoulders sank.Shewas the one who’d mistakenly saw more good in him than what truly existed.Hisleopard spots hadn’t changed at all.

So far, though, her wish had been granted. Lucien hadn’t tried to contact her in the two days since the party, and she hadn’t seen him at all. Of course, she held no fear of accidentally running into him. As Auntie was fond of pointing out, they didn’t exactly move in the same social circles, and as far as she could tell from the gossip rags, he didn’t seem to be in London at all. Perhaps he’d gone to Ealing where that urgent message had come from.

Or perhaps he’d finally crawled back into the fires of hell that had birthed him.

“I’ll write to the newspaper office which publishes that gossip rag,” Jess said, defeated, “and explain to them that they were very much wrong in thinking that His Grace and I had any sort of understanding whatsoever. Then they won’t need to print—”

“You’ll do no such thing!”

Jess straightened at Auntie’s unexpected outburst, then frowned. “Why not?”

Matilda’s lips parted, then slammed shut as she thought better of whatever it was she had been about to say. She answered instead, “Because it ishisresponsibility to do that. He is a duke and should be gentleman enough to defend your honor in such a situation.”

Jess nearly laughed. Auntie didn’t know him at all! He certainly hadn’t been a gentleman when he’d been kissing her breast. As for defending anyone’s honor, as far as any of the St Clair women were concerned, that was still Jess’s responsibility.

“Maybe neither of us will have to do that.” Jess pushed an unwanted strawberry around her plate with her fork. “Maybe everyone will realize what stuff and nonsense that rumor was and stop believing any bit of it.”