well that my brother has the habit of chatting about me in moments when he has nothing else to say. Eccentric relatives are such a gift to polite conversation.”
Ophelia put on a serene expression and said, “Certainly I couldn’t describe my relationship with the duke as more than casual, since we recently met for the first time, and yet I am aware that you live mostly in the country and have kindly cared for His Grace’s children, Lady Knowe.”
Beside her, Hugo made a sudden movement, as if he was about to refute the word “casual,” but Ophelia turned her head and allowed a flicker of authority to cross her eyes. He shut his mouth, which she appreciated.
“His Grace is certainly lucky that you were there to run the household during his misfortunes,” Lady Woolhastings said to Lady Knowe.
“Which reminds me that I must introduce the children!” Lady Knowe cried. “Or would you prefer the privilege, Hugo?”
“I shall take it on,” the duke said. He raised the hand that wasn’t holding Viola, and the children flocked to his side.
“Lady Woolhastings, and Lady Astley, my children: Horatius, North, Parth, Alaric, Leonidas, Betsy, and Alexander. The littlest, Joan, remained in the nursery today.”
Ophelia flinched. She was party to the introduction of the children to their future stepmother? She opened her mouth, about to announce that they would return home. She could take a hack if she had to.
“I am very pleased to meet all of you,” Lady Woolhastings said before Ophelia could intervene, her eyes ranging over the assembled children. “Which are you?” She addressed a smartly dressed young man with a somewhat forbidding expression.
“Horatius, my eldest,” the duke said. The youngster bowed elegantly, first before Lady Woolhastings, and then before Ophelia. The dowager inclined her head and Ophelia followed suit, giving the lad a warm smile.
“Horatius is at Oxford, and the next three are at Eton. Alaric, followed by Parth and Roland—who prefers to be called North.”
“North, as in the direction?” Lady Woolhastings clarified. Her eyes rested thoughtfully on Parth, who was clearly not a Wilde by birth. “Ah, I remember now that you have a ward.”
“Parth is my adopted son, not just a ward,” the duke said, an edge in his voice.
“Just so,” Lady Woolhastings said.
The boys turned from her and bowed before Ophelia. She met Parth’s eyes and was reassured by the gleam of steady confidence she saw there. Lady Woolhastings had engaged the duke’s daughter in conversation, so Ophelia smiled at Parth.
“Is that your little girl?” he asked, nodding at Viola, who was sound asleep in the duke’s arms.
“Yes, she is,” Ophelia said.
“So, you’re married?” He nimbly jumped to the side when North kicked him in the ankle. “I’m making polite conversation!”
“I’m widowed,” Ophelia told him.
“So many males,” Lady Woolhastings commented. “Five of the seven, am I correct?”
“Six of the eight,” the duke corrected.
“Lady Betsy has lovely features, and I’m certain she will make an excellent marriage,” Lady Woolhastings announced.
Leonidas chortled and said, “Not if the fellow gets to know her first!”
Without a word, Betsy darted over to her brother and kicked him in the ankle.
“Now, Betsy,” her father admonished mildly.
His daughter kicked Leonidas once more for good measure, smiled up with angelic innocence, and tucked her hand into Ophelia’s. “Are you coming wif us on the sleigh?”
“Stop lisping. No one thinks you’re adorable,” Leonidas said, rubbing his ankle.
Lady Woolhastings watched this with a noncommittal expression. “A stern governess is needed,” she said to the duke.
“I have a governess,” His Grace replied, somewhat shortly.
“I agree with you, Edith. We need someone far more fierce,” Lady Knowe chimed in. “Shall we make our way to the sleighs? All three are ours for the afternoon. The older boys can ride by themselves in the middle sleigh.”
The four of them took off, three boys running and Horatius pacing solemnly along behind.
“I must apologize for interrupting what is clearly a family occasion,” Ophelia said.
“Not at all,” Lady Woolhastings said, one of those empty phrases that mean nothing except by inflection—and Lady Woolhastings’s accent was so frightfully well-bred that Ophelia had no idea how to interpret it.
“We must divide up,” Hugo said.
“You and I shall travel in the first sleigh,” Lady Woolhastings stated. “We’ll take your daughter, Boadicea, with us. An odd name.”
“She prefers Betsy,” the duke responded.
“Smacks of a housemaid,” his fiancée said in such a calm voice that at first Ophelia didn’t think she’d heard her correctly.
“The younger boys can be in the third sleigh, with Lady Knowe and Lady Astley,” Lady