The Wallflower Duchess

‘The old Duke didn’t hate us as much as you thought. The time he realised we were at Mother’s when he was meeting his mistress, I thought he was going to choke.’ She held her arm out, showing Lily the purchase. Lily nodded absently.

‘I don’t remember that.’

‘You didn’t see him. He left as soon as he started breathing again. He just glared at us afterwards because he felt guilty. We knew his secret. Maybe he wanted to intimidate us. He surely didn’t like it when the Duchess had us for tea.’ She slipped the glove from her hand and threw it with its mate.

‘He should have been kind to us.’

‘Yes.’ She wrinkled her nose. ‘But you didn’t exactly look well at him once you found out he was not true to the Duchess. You thought him terrible. Terrible. And you were so angry when Mother’s friend visited us and told us about the baby being on the way.’

‘But I couldn’t say a word. Mother would have been...unsettled. It wouldn’t have been worth the upset. Mother actually thought it a grand jest that her friend had had a romp with the old Duke. She encouraged it. Did all she could to push them together.’

Abigail snorted. ‘I know.’

‘She exhausted me.’ And when her parents lived together, their father had been little better where his wife was concerned. He’d acted as if it hurt to have her on his arm. His smile had condescended. His wife was beneath him. He wanted everyone to know he thought her a mistake.

Lily knew her father had once been smitten with her mother. But that hadn’t lasted. A grand love turned into an even grander liability. Lily’s grandmother had filled her granddaughter’s ears with tales of how her son thought himself in love with the first woman who sidled up against him. Married her, and then her grandmother’s eyes had become slits as she’d stared at Lily. ‘And that has been a delight.’ The older woman had nodded and turned away, sniffing into the air and leaving the room.

Abigail rolled her eyes. ‘Do not let the past hurt you. It’s over.’

‘It doesn’t hurt me.’

‘You have always been mature.’ She wriggled her nose. ‘And staid. Or is that stale? And do I smell mould?’

‘No. You just smell.’

Lily dodged Abigail’s pretend slap.

‘That’s what I mean,’ Abigail said, ‘you always use the oldest jests.’

‘Go away.’

‘You can’t be that fortunate as to have both Mother and me move. But I am happy Mother left. Now I can fall in love without worrying she will cause more tales.’

‘Love,’ Lily muttered. ‘Mother and her friends showed me just how wonderful that is.’

‘Lily—’

‘Can you name one person happy and in love?’

‘Well, no,’ Abigail said. ‘But it exists. I’m sure of it.’

‘Would you like to buy a unicorn?’ Lily asked.

Abigail laughed. ‘No.’ She dragged out the word. ‘And you’d still be saving for one if Father hadn’t told you that they cost over a million pounds.’