Page 50 of The Duke’s Caught Bride

Thursday brought a sky so blue it looked painted. The Countess of Pembroke’s garden occupied two acres behind a Kensington townhouse and had been transformed for the occasion into a pleasure ground.

Lanterns hung from the linden trees despite the afternoon sun. A string quartet played beneath a striped awning. Guests moved across the lawn in clusters of silk and linen, their voices carrying over the clipped hedges and gravel paths.

Alice and Kenneth were announced at the garden gate, along with the boys. Alice felt the shift at once: heads turned, conversations faltered and resumed at lower volume, and the quality of attention she had learned to recognize settled over the nearest guests like a change in weather.

“They’re staring,” Charlie said. He stood close to Alice, his shoulder nearly touching her hip. “Why are they staring?”

“Because Papa is a duke,” Freddie said, striding forward. “And dukes are interesting. Come on.”

Charlie did not move. Alice looked down at him. His face was composed, but his fingers curled around the seam of his jacket, twisting the fabric.

“They are curious,” Alice murmured. “Curious is not the same as unkind.”

Charlie considered this.

She placed her hand briefly on his shoulder. “Stay close to me until you feel ready.”

Kenneth walked ahead, his height and bearing cutting a path through the crowd.

“Bearmoor,” a voice called across the lawn, deep and unhurried.

A tall man approached, his blue eyes twinkling. A dark-haired woman walked beside him, her arm linked with his.

“Silverford.” Kenneth’s voice warmed by half a degree.

The two Dukes clasped hands, and Alice saw Kenneth’s posture ease fractionally, the same loosening she had observed around Jonathan.

Silverford turned to her and bowed. “Duchess. I don’t believe we have met. Dominic Barrow, the Duke of Silverford. This is my wife, Annabelle.”

The Duchess of Silverford had bright, intelligent eyes and a smile that reached them. She was younger than Alice had expected, and she greeted Alice by pressing both her hands between her own.

“It is an honor to meet you,” she said. “The ton cannot stop talking about the woman who has tamed the twins.”

A boy appeared from behind Dominic.

“This is James,” Annabelle added. “Dominic’s nephew. He has been dreading this afternoon.”

The boy merely smiled and moved a bit closer to her.

Freddie stepped forward and inspected him. “Can you climb?”

James blinked. “What?”

“Trees. Can you climb them?”

“I… haven’t tried.”

“There’s a massive oak past the fountain. Race you.”

Freddie was gone before anyone could intervene. James looked at Annabelle, received a nod, and followed at a more measured pace.

Charlie remained at Alice’s side. He was watching the retreating figures, caught between longing and caution.

“Go on,” Alice encouraged.

“They didn’t ask me.”

“Freddie believed you would follow. He always does.”