Page 40 of The Duke’s Hidden Duchess

“Then we must conclude that respectable houses are occasionally deceived.” Selina answered lightly, pleasantly and loudly enough to be overheard by those nearest them. “Even a well-run household cannot inspect every parcel which arrives in another woman’s carriage. Lady Marwood will be desolate to learn what entered with Mrs Ottley’s party. She is so particular about her threshold.”

“Her threshold appears to have admitted more than one surprise this evening.” Rowland’s gaze rested meaningfully upon her.

“I was invited, Mr Rowland. You were brought.”

The flush climbed higher upon his neck. Nathaniel had become very still beside her. Selina placed two fingers against his sleeve, a slight pressure which said not yet, and he remained where he was.

“You possess a sharp tongue, Your Grace.”

“You have supplied it with an occasion.” She did not smile. “Enjoy your evening, Mr Rowland.”

He withdrew with a bow and a murmured civility, returning to the shelter of Mrs Ottley’s oblivious company.

Selina released a breath she had concealed until then. Beneath the cover of the room’s conversation, Nathaniel bent his head towards her.

“You are trembling,” he said. “Only slightly. I can feel it through your glove.”

“Do not be kind to me in this room. My composure is finite, and your kindness spends it more quickly than Mrs Calloway’s cruelty.” She kept her gaze upon the company. “Save it for the carriage. Here, I require you cold and standing at a thoroughly respectable distance, or I may forget how public this room is.”

“As you wish.”

Nathaniel stepped back by the necessary degree and arranged his former coldness over his features. Selina had learnt to recognise it as something donned for protection, but she did not tell him so.

***

A quarter of an hour later, Rowland found her in the quieter passage beside the music room, where she had gone in search of air. He had plainly been waiting for the opportunity. The social ease vanished from his manner as soon as they were beyond the company’s immediate notice.

“Let us speak plainly, now that your husband is not here to be impressed. You are a clever woman who has married into powerful company, and you imagine that your wit has answered me. It has not.”

He came no nearer, but lowered his voice.

“Lady Georgiana did not answer my last letter. I offered her an opportunity to settle this matter privately, but she, or those advising her, mistook silence for safety. Her refusal has obliged me to address someone with greater influence. I possess her letters; every foolish, confiding line. I shall see them printed with her name entire unless the Duke of Wexford discharges a debt which I shall name to you privately. You will persuade him to pay it. A wife of your evident talents can persuade a husband of most things, particularly one who covers her hand in Hyde Park.”

His smile returned, though none of its earlier ease accompanied it.

“Persuade him, Your Grace, or watch Lady Georgiana become the subject of every drawing room in England. The scandal will not spare you: the former companion who permitted it beneath the very roof into which she married.”

The passage was narrow and poorly lit, and no one else stood within it. Selina reached behind her, beyond his sight, and placed one palm against the cold wall to steady herself.

“You cannot frighten me with ruin,” she said. “I have endured ruin before. I am not new to it.”

Her voice thinned upon the final words. She heard it happen.

“Eleven hundred pounds,” Rowland said. “You will want the figure, being so determined to make yourself a woman of business. Eleven hundred pounds, and the letters will go into the fire before you. You may count them as they burn.”

He regarded her with infuriating composure.

“The sum is nothing to your husband. An evening’s losses at cards. Eleven hundred pounds against a young woman’s reputation ought not to require lengthy consideration.” His smile sharpened. “Unless, of course, the difficulty is persuading him that she is worth the expense.”

“You mistake his ability to pay for your ability to compel him.” Selina forced the words out steadily. “And you have already committed enough to paper: the demand for a clandestine meeting, the threat of publication, all in your own hand. My husband has a solicitor, a confidential agent and a great deal of patience. Every letter you send furnishes him with further evidence against you.”

“And yet Lady Georgiana’s letters remain in my possession.”

“They will not remain there for long, any more than that coat will.” The words escaped before Selina could weigh them. She heard their cheapness as soon as they entered the air: a fishwife’s thrust at his tailor, unworthy of her and far too revealing. “Men who dress beyond their means eventually part with what they possess,” she continued. “It is the one thing upon which they can be relied.”

Rowland laughed softly, with genuine delight.

“Ah,” he said. “There she is. The frightened woman. I wondered whether she was still inside.”