Page 68 of How Not to Marry a Duke

"We attend." Frederick moved to stand beside her, both of them facing the window now, watching the grey morning light strengthen over the formal gardens. "We prevent the original announcement. And we confront Lord Ashworth privately, before the scandal becomes public."

"You wish to give him the opportunity to save face?"

"I wish to give him the opportunity to withdraw gracefully. If he refuses—" Frederick's jaw tightened. "Then I shall have Thorne present the evidence to the guests personally. But I would rather avoid destroying Penelope in the process."

"You are more generous than he deserves."

"I am not doing this for him." Frederick turned to face her. "I am doing it for her. For both of them—Penelope, who was caught between a scheming father and a man she did not love. And Florinda, who ought not begin our marriage in the shadow of a public spectacle."

The Dowager's eyebrow rose—a gesture Frederick had learned to read before he learned to walk. "Florinda. The Ashbourne girl."

"Yes."

"The one who fell off her horse and disrupted my household for two months."

"The one I intend to marry, yes."

Another pause. The Dowager's face was unreadable—but Frederick had spent a lifetime learning to interpret her silences, and this one did not feel like disapproval. It felt like assessment. Like a general evaluating a new piece on the board.

"She makes you laugh."

"I beg your pardon?"

"I heard you." The Dowager's voice softened, almost imperceptibly. "In the garden, during her convalescence. You were laughing at a remark she had made—truly laughing, not the polite sounds you produce at dinner parties." She reached out, touched his arm—a gesture so rare that Frederick felt his breath catch. "You have not laughed like that since before the war. Perhaps not ever."

He did not know how to respond. Had not realised she had been watching. Had not realised she had noticed anything at all.

"Go find her." The Dowager withdrew her hand, her voice brisk again. "After the ball. After this disaster has been managed. Go find her and marry her and give me grandchildren who laugh the way you used to." A ghost of a smile crossed her face. "She makes you laugh. That is more than I ever had."

* * *

"There is one more matter you ought to know," Frederick said.

The Dowager's eyes sharpened. "More?"

"I have sent word to Thomas Harrison."

"The dancing master." Her voice went flat. "Penelope's husband."

"Her legal husband, yes. The one Lord Ashworth paid to disappear three years ago." Frederick met his mother's gaze without flinching. "I have invited him to the ball."

"You have—" The Dowager stopped. For the first time in Frederick's memory, she appeared genuinely speechless. Her mouth opened, closed, opened again. "Frederick. You cannot mean to⁠—"

"I do not intend a public confrontation. But Thomas deserves to know that his wife—his legal wife—has been forced into a fraudulent engagement. And Penelope deserves the chance to see him, to choose for herself what happens next." Frederick's voice hardened. "Lord Ashworth separated them with money and threats. I am giving them the opportunity he took away."

"And if Lord Ashworth sees him? If the confrontation becomes public anyway?"

"Then Lord Ashworth shall have to explain to three hundred guests why his daughter's husband has arrived at her engagement ball." Frederick allowed himself a small, grim smile. "I am hoping it shall not come to that. But if it does... he shall have no one to blame but himself."

The Dowager stared at him for a long moment. Then, to his astonishment, she laughed—a sharp, surprised sound that seemed to escape against her will.

"You are more your father's son than I realised." Her eyes held approval now, and perhaps a grudging respect. "He would have done the same thing. Made it look like mercy whilst holding a blade to the throat."

"I learned from the best."

"Flattery." But her mouth curved. "Very well. We attend. We manage. We give Lord Ashworth one chance to withdraw with his dignity intact. And if he refuses⁠—"

"We let Thomas do the rest."