.
Alex was memorized by His Grace’s home moments upon entering the foyer. While the man was a war hero, there was no mistaking that he was a wealthy man. She watched as women and men moved up and down the twin curved staircases that had been crafted out of white marble that matched the ground floor. The chandeliers that flowed above seemed to be made of pure crystal and dripped. White candles made the stones glitter, and the silver theme seemed to float throughout the rest of the room. But what should have looked ghastly and cold managed to make Alex feel very relaxed and warm.
Or perhaps that warm feeling simply came from the presence of so many people at her every side. They took a few more steps and the world seemed to open. She had only to recall just whose arm she was on to understand why.
She looked over at Justin and had the sense that the romantic man she’d kissed in the carriage was gone. In his place was the Earl of Chantenny, a lord riddled in secrecy. He seemed cold and assessing as he made his way to the tall gentleman dressed as a redcoat with a woman in a matching crimson gown on his arm.
“Your Graces,” Justin said before he bowed to the stunning couple and took the lady’s hand to offer a kiss.
“Lord Chantenny,” the duke grunted with a thrust of his chin that could have been attributed to him staking his supremacy over the gathering, but Alex caught the twinkle in his dark eyes. The duke seemed to be in his late fifties, his hair a warm chestnut that was sprinkled with white. Faint lines surrounded his mouth, but his wife was at least a decade younger. Her blond hair, brown eyes, and fair skin were fine and perfect, and Alex liked the way she held onto her husband, leaning toward him only a fraction every so often, which told Alex that she did not stand by her husband on ceremony. She actually wanted to be at his side.
The duchess said, “Chantenny, had I known you were coming months ago, I’d have placed my bet.”
Alex was surprised to hear there was a pool as to whether Justin would come or not.
Justin smiled at her. Though small, Alex could see it was genuine. “I do apologize, but I’ve only recently decided to venture back into Society.”
The duke grunted again and looked Alex over. “I could only guess as to why that would be.”
Justin turned to her and Alex took a breath. “Your Graces, the Duke and Duchess of Crandrey, I present my sisters, Lucy Ann and Selina.”
The girls, who stood on either side of Reuben curtsied.
“Eastridge,” the duke said as he turned to Reuben and held out his hand with a smile. “Or is it too early to call you that?”
Reuben took the hand offered him and glared. “You know it is.”
“Eastridge?” Alex asked her brother.
“The ceremony is to be held next April on Saint George’s Day,” the duke said. “The king has decided to make him a viscount.”
Alex stared at her brother. “A viscount?” She had a million and one questions, but nothing suppressed her happiness for her brother. Her vision was momentarily blinded by tears.
Reuben looked at her and said, “It’s far too soon to go around calling me anything but Reuben.”
“Mr. Smith,” the duchess said with ample admiration. “My husband has told me so much about you. It is an honor to meet you.” She held out her hand toward him, and Reuben bowed over it.
A spike of jealousy hit her that this duchess seemed to know things about her brother that she did not. Any chance to ask him questions was stopped when Lucy Ann begged him for a dance, which he obliged her with while escorting Selina up the stairs as well.
Alex was forced to focus on the duke and duchess with Justin’s final introduction. “I would like to introduce to you Miss Alexandra Smith, my fiancée.”
The duke blinked in astonishment while his wife placed a hand on her heart and stared at Justin.
“You’re engaged?” the duchess asked with wonder. “My lord, I’d not believed the talk of you humbling yourself to kiss Lady Tyrell’s hand at Lady Charles’ musical, but this is more than a surprise, my lord.” The duchess’ smile grew and she swung her gaze to Alexandra. “You and I must speak.”
Justin pulled in a breath and Alex understood why. It was clear that the duchess was a woman who fancied her fair share of gossip.
“Have you made the announcement yet?” the duchess asked as she looked at Justin once more.
“Just to her family and mine,” he replied.
“Excellent.” The duchess’ green eyes glowed with glee. “I’m honored that you plan to do so at my ball. I’ll see that it’s added to the program.” She looked at Alex once more. “Don’t forget, you and I must speak.” Then she stepped away from her husband and floated from the room.
“I suppose I should not only congratulate you but thank you, both,” the duke said. “You know how her ladyship only likes one thing more than hearsay, and that’s being involved in it.” He grinned, and it showed Alex that he obviously didn’t mind his wife’s manner. Then, as if to explain his reasoning, he turned to Alex and said, “I’m gone so often she’s only left with a few forms of entertainment, and Lord knows there are worse alternatives.”
Alex readily agreed. In a society where women’s only pleasures were expected to be needlework and taking tea, what else could one do but chat? She wondered if that would be her future and was momentarily maddened by the thought.
The duke grabbed champagne from a passing server and extended a glass to Alex and Justin before taking one of his own. “To you both,” he said, lifting the glass in a toast.
“What are we celebrating?” a wheezing voice asked from Alex’s side.
She'd barely turned toward the speaker before she felt Justin stiffen and pull her away. She looked over and met a pair of light brown eyes that could have been considered warm were they on anyone else’s face. There was a coldness to the older gentleman that nearly made Alex shiver and did make her more than glad that Justin had pulled her away.
Alex could hear every breath the man took as though he labored at it with every passing minute. She immediately felt sympathy for him.
“Avon,” Crandrey said. “I didn’t know you were up for a ball.”
The other man didn’t even look over to acknowledge Crandrey’s words. His gaze was fixed on Alex as he tightened his hold on his cane. “When I heard that Miss Alexandra Smith would be in attendance, I had to come.” He held out his other hand toward her. “Chantenny, why don’t you introduce me.”
But Avon needed no introduction. Alex knew his name as did the rest of the country.
Justin pulled in a breath. “Your Grace, the Duke of Avon, I would like you to meet Miss Alexandra Smith.”
Alex noticed as the duke gripped her hand that Justin had not told Avon they were engaged, and she wondered why.
Was there yet another thing she didn’t know about the man she planned to pledge herself to?
“Miss Alexandra, you are stunning.” The duke brushed his lips across her glove but then quickly dropped her before reaching into his jacket and producing a cloth. Great barks were driven into his handkerchief as his body rocked with coughs.
She recalled the last time she’d heard anyone with a cough like Avon’s. It had been a young boy in Best Home that Alex had helped care for. It had started with fever, but even after the fever was gone, the cough remained. The boy had not lived long after that.
Alex couldn’t stop herself from reaching out to him and touching his arm once he was done. “Are you all right?”
Avon seemed startled by the action. “Don’t you know you’re not supposed to call attention to someone’s ailment?” His words were harsh, but his expression was still unsettled, as though he didn’t know what to make of her.
Alex slowly dropped her hand, believing she’d embarrassed him, but who would not wonder at his pain when it was so obvious? “I’m sorry, Your Grace, forgive me.” Then, being who she was, she turned to a passing footman and said, “Would you be so kind as to get His Grace a cup of tea?”
“Tea?” Avon growled. “I haven’t drunk it in decades. I hate it.”
“Well, if it’s been so long, perhaps you’ll change your mind,” Alex pressed.
Justin pulled her back a fraction more, and Alex’s stomach pitched as she remembered that she was not speaking to a sick child at the home, but a lord. A duke, no less!
Avon seemed to regard her in silence for a moment.
Crandrey laughed. “Well, Avon, you have to wonder when’s the last time anyone gave a fig about you.” He hit Avon on the back, which jolted the old man out of the stare he'd held on Alex.
“I’ve other guests to greet. Until later.” Then Crandrey left the three alone.
He looked at Justin. “You and I must speak.”
“I’ll call tomorrow,” Justin said.
“Tonight,” Avon said, his eyes turning cold once again.
The maid returned with a cup and kettle on a silver tray just as Alex had asked, and Alex let go of Justin to serve it.
“More sugar,” Avon instructed, his eyes narrowed on her hands, but that he planned to drink it at all gave her some pleasure.
“I believe I've added enough for one cup,” Alex told him before she handed him the cup with a smile. “It’s better this way. Now, do finish it. It’ll help with the cough.”
Avon slowly took the cup and said, “Nothing will help with the cough, I fear.” Then after a sip, he bowed and left just as suddenly as he’d appeared.
Justin turned her toward him. “Let’s dance, shall we?” Then without giving her a choice, he started toward the ballroom.