sent a
letter asking such pardon. Just one letter, which
Constance felt didn’t indicate true repentance.
Even from the corner of her eye, she could see
Amanda was as stunning as ever. Her new, pale blue
dress set off her clear skin and laughing eyes. How
would Marcus feel to see her? Please don’t let him think
Amanda is more beautiful than— Of course he would
think Amanda was more beautiful, it was a simple fact.
Right now, he was talking to her parents about the
journey— Constance heard her mother saying it had
been almost pleasant in such a comfortable carriage.
But he must realize Amanda was there. He hadn’t met
her after the wedding, as she’d stayed in her room with
a headache, so this would be the first time he’d faced
the girl who’d deceived him.
But somehow, they ended up moving inside,
Constance suspected under Marcus’s subtle direction,
without either him or her having spoken to Amanda.
Marcus took Reverend Somerton to see his mother
immediately, while the ladies repaired to the salon to
take tea, giving the servants a chance to unpack their
trunks.
Constance poured the tea and handed a cup to
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252
Charity. “Tell me what’s been going on at home,” she
urged Charity.
“I turned down my first marriage proposal last week,”
her sister said airily.
“Charity! You’re only fifteen!”
“Even if I were twenty-five I should still not want to
marry,” Charity declared. “I’m going to stay with
Mama and Papa forever. Besides—” she screwed up her
face “—it was that awful William Foxton. No one
would marry him—he was just hoping I was too young
to have realized that.”
Everyone laughed.
“I know you won’t have accepted any proposals,
Isabel,” Constance said. “You’ll have been far too busy
caring for your orphans.”
Isabel smiled that serene smile that made people
catch their breath and fall silent in the presence of
beauty. Then she stuck out her tongue and said, “Don’t
talk such twaddle, Constance—I’ll entertain any offers
of marriage that come my way, if it’ll make things
easier for Mama and Papa.” Which was the delightful
thing about her, she was so pragmatic.
Constance could no longer defer talking to Amanda.
Fixing her gaze somewhere on her sister’s forehead, she
said, “And you, Amanda? You’ll be excited to be in
London at last.”
“Of course,” Amanda said, with an irritatingly bright
smile.
“She’s been all aflutter from the moment Lord
Spenford’s letter arrived,” Margaret confirmed. “She
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THE EARL’S MISTAKEN BRIDE
was so excited, she developed a headache the moment
we entered London.”
Another convenient headache. Constance narrowed
her gaze on her sister.
“I feel much better now,” Amanda said. Briefly,
Constance wondered if her sister’s confidence was mere
bravado. But she detected no remorse in those blue-
violet eyes.
“I’ve said Amanda may attend the ball for two
hours,” Margaret said.
“Isn’t she a little young?” Constance asked.
“No, I’m not,” Amanda said.
“Two hours won’t hurt, since the ball is right here,”
Margaret said comfortably. “Charity won’t attend, of
course.”
“I don’t want to,” Charity said. “I think dancing is
silly, and so is flirting.”
“Well, I am looking forward to it,” Isabel said.
“Mama says I can dance even though I haven’t been
presented at Court, since it’s a family occasion.”
Their mother talked of her plans to have new dresses
made for herself and for Isabel and Amanda. They
would need to visit a modiste tomorrow in order to have
the dresses in time.
“But most of all,” Margaret said, “I’m looking
forward to spending time with you, Constance. And, of
course, with my son-in-law.”
“Wonderful,” Constance said gamely.
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Chapter Twenty-Two
As far as Marcus could tell, the next few days were
bliss for Constance, having her family here…except for
Amanda, whom she avoided and whom Marcus had
successfully ignored the entire duration of her stay to
date. Marcus was keeping his end of his truce with
Constance—in the presence of her family, he was
attentive, even warm. He had several times been aware
of her mother’s scrutiny, but was confident her parents
wouldn’t be worried for her.
He wasn’t worried about his wife, but he was about
his mother, who’d suffered a minor relapse. Mr. Young
pronounced it due to overstimulation, and visited twice
a day. Under his care, Marcus’s mother seemed to pick
up again, and she was more excited about the ball than
anyone.
On Wednesday, the day before the ball, they all
visited the opening day of the Summer Exhibition at the
Royal Academy in the Strand, Reverend Somerton
having declared an interest in viewing an acclaimed
portrait of St. Francis of Assisi.
Marcus had spent four days with Constance’s
father—each day his collar had felt tighter, his
conversation more stilted. Not that Reverend Somerton
said anything negative. It was just, knowing how
Constance respected him, Marcus felt under increasing
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THE EARL’S MISTAKEN BRIDE
pressure to impress the man.
Ridiculous. He was the Earl of Spenford; he didn’t
need to impress anyone.
When they reached the Royal Academy, it was a
relief to walk with his wife, to