carry a boy for more than one reason,” Maddie chimed in. “Nothing is crueler than the contrast between the unlined skin of a young girl in the first blossom of youth and the mother who chaperones her.” She clasped her (cotton-filled) belly. “If I carry a daughter, I only hope I shall face the disparity with good grace! Humiliation is too strong a word.”
“The Wilde girls are, of course, extraordinarily beautiful,” Lady Knowe said innocently. “As you yourself noted yesterday, Lady Woolhastings, Betsy will certainly grow up to be a beauty, and she’s nothing compared to Joan. With her golden hair and perfect features, she will cast everyone in the shade when she debuts.”
Lady Woolhastings had the look of a woman who has made an important decision. She rose to her feet. Hugo stood, and Maddie jumped up, which caused her “belly” to jiggle alarmingly.
“I am feeling unwell,” the lady announced.
“If you’ll forgive me, you do look rather sallow,” Maddie said. “I well remember when your daughter and I attended our first balls together, my mother often retired to bed exhausted.”
“At your age, dear lady, it is always best to retire early with a restorative,” Lady Knowe said sympathetically. “My own dear mother—”
Lady Woolhastings bridled. “I am not the age of your mother!”
“I trust you will feel much improved on the morrow, Lady Woolhastings,” Ophelia said, intervening.
After a round of courtesies, Hugo led his visibly irritated fiancée toward the door in search of their hostess.
Lady Knowe, Maddie, and Ophelia said nothing until Lady Woolhastings and the duke had left the room.
Then Lady Knowe said, with a cackle of laughter, “I thought all the naughtiness would be effectual, but you found the perfect weapon, Lady Penshallow!”
“Please, call me Maddie,” she said, reaching out and taking Lady Knowe’s hand. “I have a feeling that we might become much better acquainted in the near future. Phee is my dearest relative and I cannot bear to lose her to the wilds of Cheshire.”
Ophelia felt herself turning pink. “I believe this conversation is uncalled for,” she said. “Nothing . . . That is . . .”
“Surely my brother has thrown himself on his knees and declared his love? Because he does, you know.” Lady Knowe regarded Ophelia with bright eyes. “He’s in love. Simply dizzy with it.”
“I don’t know why,” Ophelia said, glancing at the door, but their hostess had not reappeared, and neither had the duke. Presumably he was escorting Lady Woolhastings to her house.
“I’ll leave the whys up to him,” Lady Knowe said. “If I know my brother, he’ll be able to convince you of his reasoning. All I can say is that I haven’t seen him so happy since Marie died. He made a mistake with Yvette, but he had the best of intentions.”
“He was trying to find a mother for his children,” Maddie said, nodding. “I thought that was why he asked about Phee. But then it turned out he didn’t even know that Phee is an excellent mother. He didn’t know who she was at all.”
“He’s not in love with her for that,” Lady Knowe said. “Mothering is the least of it. I will warn you, my dear, that my brother seems to be extraordinarily potent. Yvette complained endlessly and swore he wasn’t allowed to come near her without a French letter, but to no avail.”
Ophelia discovered that she didn’t want to hear anything more about Yvette. Or Hugo’s beloved first wife either.
Lady Knowe apparently read her expression, because she turned to Maddie without taking a breath. “So, tell me, when will your child be born?” she asked, gesturing toward Maddie’s pillow.
She turned a little pink. “Three months. Or so.” She cleared her throat.
“Maddie will stay with me until the child arrives,” Ophelia said, giving Lady Knowe a look that told her the subject was closed.
Lady Knowe broke out laughing. “In case I didn’t think that you had the gumption to be a duchess, the glance you just gave me would have proved me wrong.”
Ophelia felt herself turning pink again. But there was one question she had: “Will you really be leaving the castle and moving to Kent?”
“I would not wish to be in my brother’s household if it would cause the least disquiet in his marriage. It can be difficult if two women share domestic duties.”
“Oh, please,” Ophelia said, putting her cards on the table. “I adore my daughter. I am growing . . . fond of the duke. But I think about walking into the castle and eight