Who Wants to Marry a Duke - Sabrina Jeffries Page 0,105

anything she liked. So she was always practicing small economies to make sure they lived within their means.

Mama didn’t approve of living within one’s means. For one thing, she was incessantly trying to impress someone with how lofty they were. For another, she was pinning her hopes on Vanessa marrying well and being able to support the two of them quite handily.

“It’s not the trim, Mama,” Vanessa grumbled. “The whole thing is lopsided from all your fooling with it.”

“I’m merely trying to fix it. You want to look nice for the gentlemen, don’t you?”

“Of course.” Vanessa really only wanted to look nice for one gentleman, but he would probably ignore her as usual. If he did, she would give up hope of ever gaining his attention. So far nothing seemed to have worked in that regard.

Uncle Theo, her favorite relation, patted Vanessa’s arm reassuringly. “You know your mother—always thinking about your suitors.”

“And with good reason,” her mother said. “The girl doesn’t have the sense God gave her when it comes to suitors. She should be married to Greycourt, but instead she dragged her feet, and now he’s married to that low chit Miss Wolfe.”

“That ‘low’ chit,” Vanessa put in, “is the granddaughter of a duke just like me. So if she’s low, then so am I. Besides, I like her.”

“Of course you do.” Mama sniffed as she fussed a bit more over the turban. “You always prefer the wrong sort of people.”

“I find they’re generally more interesting than the right sort,” Vanessa said.

“Like that playwright you’re enamored of.” Her mother shook her head. “Sometimes I think you want to marry the poorest fellow you can find just to vex me.”

“Mr. Juncker is very talented,” Vanessa pointed out, precisely for the reason her mother had given—just to vex her. He was handsome, too, with a winning smile, teasing eyes, and good teeth, but Vanessa didn’t care about any of that.

Her uncle huffed out a breath. “Are we going to enter the box sometime before the end of the century, sister?”

“Oh, stubble it, Theo. The orchestra is still tuning its instruments.”

“That sounds like an overture to me,” he said. “That’s why the corridor is empty except for us.”

“Almost done.” Her mother finally left off adjusting her turban. Instead, she gave Vanessa’s bodice a tug downward.

Vanessa groaned. “It will just creep back up. Honestly, Mama, do you want me looking like a strumpet?”

“If it will catch you a good husband? Absolutely. You’re not getting any younger, you know.” Her mother pinched Vanessa’s cheeks.

“I fail to see how pinching rolls back the years.”

“You must trust your mother in this,” Mama said. “I swear, someday I hope you have a child as recalcitrant as you. ’Twould serve you right.” When Uncle Theo cleared his throat, Mama scowled at him and opened the door. “Very well, now we can go in.”

“Are you expecting someone in particular tonight?” Vanessa asked as they entered the box. Her mother usually primped her, but this went beyond the pale.

Mama lowered her voice. “I heard that most of Lydia’s family will be here. And if His Grace, the Duke of Armitage, happens to come . . .”

“He will magically decide to marry me because my cheeks are rosy and my bosom is half-bare?”

“Men do that, you know. Anything that will make him notice you is good.”

Someone nearby shushed them, and they took their seats.

Vanessa sighed. Saint Sheridan was unlikely to notice her. He clearly had relegated her to the position of little sister, even though she was twenty-five years old to his twenty-nine. She didn’t want to be his little sister. She wanted to be his wife. Unfortunately, she’d tried a number of the time-honored tactics of young ladies, and none seemed to have changed his image of her.

Including her attempts to make him jealous. She’d stared after Mr. Juncker with seeming longing, and she’d gushed about the man’s talent to Sheridan. She’d even hinted to her cousin Grey of her adoration and had gone so far as to say she would never marry a duke, hoping that her remarks would get back to Sheridan. Having grown up with a consummate liar for a mother, that was going about as far as Vanessa was comfortable in dissembling to her cousin.

But as far as she could tell, all her efforts had merely annoyed her mother and irritated Grey, not to mention made her feel ridiculous. The three times Sheridan had danced with her—only because he couldn’t avoid it—he’d been as distant and