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Authors: Kieran Kramer

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Janice’s heart jumped. What could Halsey mean, calling out so sharply? Nothing appeared
wrong with the sleigh or the horses.

Luke looked over his shoulder. “Yes, Your Grace?”

The horses pranced merrily along.

“Stop by the gazebo,” the duke commanded him.

The gazebo was looming, so Luke pulled gently up on the reins, and the sleigh came
to a graceful stop. The other sleigh, too, stopped behind them.

Janice couldn’t help feeling nervous, and she knew her eyes were wide as she gazed
across at Mrs. Friday. The widow’s face, as always, was reassuringly calm and kind.
But how would she look if she knew that the duke had threatened harm to her?

The very idea made Janice’s stomach burn with anxiety.

Halsey jumped down from the sleigh and held out his hand. “Lady Janice, you will join
me in the snow.” It was no request. It was an order.

What choice did she have?

“Very well,” she said, and took the duke’s hand.

It was an awkward descent from her seat. All eyes were upon her. She could feel Luke’s,
especially.

When she stood before Halsey, he looked down at her with that cool smile of his. “We’re
off to the gazebo.”

“Are we?” Everyone was watching. She had no idea what was going on, and judging by
the silence, no one else knew, either.

The duke held out his arm and, of course, she took it. Together they walked through
the slushy snow to the gazebo, which since they’d arrived must have been swept clean
of the snow that had blown into the interior. No snow graced the railings, either.

The duke turned to face the occupants of the sleighs. “It’s early days yet. But all
of you know that our engagement to be married will soon be official. As a token of
my esteem for my future duchess, I’m presenting her with a gift. And I do it here,
in this gazebo, because this is where my own grandmother received this same token
from my grandfather, the fifth Duke of Halsey.”

It would have been a lovely gesture in any other courtship. But theirs? An alliance
based on threats on his part and fear on hers?

No.

Janice’s temples and hands were damp from nerves. Luke was looking directly at her.
Could this be her moment of communication with him? In front of all these people?
What could she do to let him know that none of this was her choice?

Before she could manage anything, the duke took her elbow and spun her slowly around.
She felt his arms lift over her head and then move to the back of her neck. When she
looked down, atop her coat was a magnificent ruby necklace, so large that she gave
a little gasp.

“Do you like it?” Halsey murmured in her ear.

“It’s impressive,” she said back. Never would she say that she liked it.

He turned her around to face him again. He raised her gloved hand to his lips and
kissed the back of her hand, after which he held her hand aloft in his. “It is done!”
he called to the crowd. “The lady is well pleased!”

Janice’s cheeks burned with mortification.

Everyone began to clap—everyone, that is, except Luke, who sat with the reins loose
in his hands, his face an inscrutable mask. And then before the clapping even ceased,
he turned to face the front of the sleigh.

His neutral profile said it all. That brief, idyllic time with him in the stables
might as well never have happened. Her love for him—because that was what it was,
she realized—was for naught.

They were strangers again.

 

Chapter Twenty-three

 

As the sun hid behind the clouds and the day was laden with gray, the ruby necklace
seemed to glow with its own light on the rest of the sleigh ride home. In Janice,
too, an idea blazed, fueled by fury and a broken heart.

If she couldn’t speak to Luke—if she must consign herself to being Halsey’s wife—then
she would
be
the future Duchess of Halsey. Starting now.

Lord Yarrow had just finished discussing—in his pompous way—the exhibit of the Elgin
Marbles at the British Museum with Mrs. Friday, who’d never seen them.

“A travesty that you haven’t,” he said, not even bothering to look at her.

“I don’t live in London,” she replied, “and I was recently widowed. I don’t know when
I’ll get there.”

He waved a hand. “See that you do.”

Really? Was that how one spoke to a kind widow? Treat her as if she was less than
nothing? Dismiss her with a hand?

Janice glared at him. “I suppose if Mrs. Friday had been wealthy and titled, you might
have given her a more tolerable answer, Lord Yarrow. In future, if you expect to be
invited to Halsey House, you’ll conduct yourself with true civility. Pompous airs
aren’t welcome.”

The sleigh bells jingled, the snow hissed by, and within the sleigh there was utter
silence.

“Halsey?” Lord Yarrow begged hoarsely, and pulled at his cravat.

Janice turned to her future husband and looked so coldly at him, she shocked even
herself. But she
was
cold, down to her very soul. She saw no hope for happiness in her future.

“You’ll do as Lady Janice asks, Yarrow,” he said, his eyes still on hers.

Hah,
Janice thought. Maybe something good could come out of this “duchess” business, after
all.

When they reached the estate, Luke once again pulled the sleigh directly in front
of the house. This time several footmen swarmed it, but Janice leapt out with no assistance
at all. Without looking at anyone—Luke, she knew, was expressly avoiding eye contact
with her, as well—she walked directly to the house. Once inside, she instructed the
butler to bring tea for the entire sleigh party to the drawing room and to send the
housekeeper in when the tea was served.

“Yes, my lady,” he said.

“Thank you.” She gave him her coat. “And do see that a spare room is prepared near
the kitchens for a dog and her pups. When it’s ready for inspection, send for me.”


Yes,
my lady.”

The rest of the sleigh’s occupants trailed in and joined her in the drawing room.

She poured out for everyone, serving Halsey last. “Esmeralda and her pups are moving
into the house,” she told him when she handed him his cup.

His hand froze. “Are you jesting?”

“No. I’ll make a bed for them in a spare room off the kitchen. And every day until
we leave for London, I’ll walk Esmeralda, the mother. I’ll also be making the rounds
of the tenant farmers to see who would like to adopt a pup. Do you think I’ll have
to extend the search to Bramblewood?”

The duke stared at her a long moment. Janice stared right back. She’d already practiced
defying him when she didn’t mean it—merely to capture his attention. Now she was going
to do what she wanted when she wanted to—she was going to be herself if she had to
be a duchess—and not give a fig what he thought.

And she would enjoy every minute of it.

“On second thought,” she said, “I have a craving to keep all of them. We certainly
have room enough here to do so. Why separate a family unnecessarily?”

Lady Opal set down her own cup. “But Halsey doesn’t care for dogs that aren’t his
hounds.”

One of them looked up at them from the rug, its ears twitching.

“Please don’t speak for the duke,” Janice told Lady Opal. “He can do that for himself.”
Janice glanced at him, but he didn’t appear inclined to talk at the moment. He was
no doubt trying to adjust to the new duchess in her—because she’d given him no choice
in the matter.

“But Opal’s right,” Lady Rose broke in, staring aghast at Janice. “Halsey’s hounds
have a special place in his heart.”

“The pups are coming inside,” Janice told both sisters quietly. “And as you’re so
well able to defend the duke, you’re clearly ready to stand up for yourselves. You
make a formidable team. As soon as the snow melts, I must ask you to leave Halsey
House so you can get started.”

“What?” whispered Lady Rose.

Her sister glowered.

“You know what I said about you being namby-pamby, Lady Janice?” Miss Branson grinned.
“I take it back.”

“Thank you, Miss Branson.” Janice smiled. “Your observations are always refreshing.
But you must agree it’s time to stop paying room and board here and take your holiday
elsewhere when the roads clear. Why deny the rest of England the pleasure of meeting
you?”

“Ah…” Miss Branson winced and scratched her head. “That’s an idea.”

“A good one,” Lady Opal said.

Lady Rose giggled.

“Perhaps all three of you can travel together,” Janice suggested.

The two sisters’ amusement faded instantly.

“You’ve gotten to know each other well,” Janice said. “I think—” Something was coming
to her. “
I
think that what with Miss Branson desiring adventure and having a full pocketbook
and needing company—because travel is always better with company—you two sisters can
comb England, Scotland, and Wales with her for an ideal place to locate your business.”

“Business?” Lady Opal drew in her chin.

“Yes,” said Janice. “You’re an excellent cook, Lady Opal. And Lady Rose, you’d make
an exceptional innkeeper. I propose that with Miss Branson’s money, you find yourself
a small castle and renovate it. Convert it to an inn.”

“Good Lord, that’s a brilliant idea,” said Miss Branson. “I’ve always wanted a real
castle. And they’re a dime a dozen over here.”

Lady Rose and Lady Opal stared openmouthed at each other.

“It is a wonderful notion,” whispered Lady Rose.

“I agree,” said Lady Opal. “All we need is money.”

“And I have that,” said Miss Branson. “Girls, as soon as those roads clear, we’re
on our way.”

“Splendid,” said Janice.

But Lord Yarrow and Lord Rowntree wore uncertain expressions. Were they afraid of
being thrown out? She hoped so. They’d probably been getting free entertainment from
the ladies, however, so if the women went, then the men might be more amenable to
leaving, too.

She didn’t care to think about whether Halsey would miss the women’s favors. She suspected
so. But it didn’t matter anymore. All these questionable guests would soon be on their
way. And it was because she’d insist, as the future Duchess of Halsey, that they go.

The housekeeper walked in. “You wanted to see me, Lady Janice?”

“Yes, I did.” Everyone but the duke looked at Janice with some trepidation. His Grace
kept his usual cool expression in place. “I’d like you to move Lord Rowntree’s things
out of his bedchamber and make the one next to it over as the dowager’s. She’ll be
moving there tomorrow. Meanwhile, Lord Rowntree will need another room farther away.
Smaller will do as he won’t be staying past the snow.”

“Yes, my lady.” The housekeeper curtsied and left the room.

Lord Rowntree put down his cup with a clatter. “I think not, young lady,” he said
to Janice, his voice booming. “You’re not duchess here yet. Halsey? Are you going
to let her get away with this? And I thought that the doctor ordered your grandmother
to stay in seclusion.”

The duke lifted his cup to his lips and watched Janice over the rim.

Don’t give an inch,
she told herself as she stared back. The dowager duchess deserved better. And Rowntree,
the mushroom, needed to depart.

“You’ll take the smaller room, Rowntree,” the duke said. “And as for my grandmother,
that’s none of your business.”

There were audible intakes of breath from the women, and Lord Rowntree stood. “This
is preposterous. Forget giving me the smaller room. I’m packing up and leaving now.
At least I can get as far as Bramblewood.”

Janice didn’t say a word. She busied herself adding milk to her second cup of tea.
The dowager would be moving, and it was a great triumph!

What else could she do?

Drink her tea, that was what. She was exhausted from doing exactly what she wanted.
But it was exhilarating, and dare she say it? She had excellent ideas.

Which reminded her: she had one more.

“Lord Rowntree, “she said, “while you’re in Bramblewood, you’ll kindly ask the vicar
to attend me as soon as possible. I want to make a massive contribution to the parish
fund, payable only if it is split with St. Mungo’s Orphanage, a couple of hours’ ride
away. You’ll preface my donation by making a substantial one of your own to both the
parish and the orphanage, if you wouldn’t mind. Consider that your way of repaying
the duke for his unceasing hospitality, of which you took full advantage.”

“I’ll do no such thing.” Lord Rowntree’s face was bright red. “You can’t promise Halsey’s
money when you’re not even his bride. And you certainly can’t demand that I empty
my own pockets for people I don’t know or care about.”

“Very well, my lord,” she said serenely. “I see many similarities between His Grace’s
friends: mainly a desire to wring every bit of influence you can from the duke, as
you have little to none of your own.”

“How dare you.” Lord Rowntree’s eyes narrowed dangerously.

Janice maintained her aplomb. She’d already dealt with Halsey’s nastiness. She could
handle this man’s. “When I join the duke’s household,” she told him, “friends will
be true friends. I won’t tolerate sycophants or charlatans. If you’re so miserly and
selfish that you won’t do me this small favor, don’t expect to be received by His
Grace ever again, either here or in London or at any of his properties.”

Lord Rowntree’s lips thinned. “You’re a bloody nightmare, Lady Janice.” He stormed
to the door without looking at the duke or anyone else along the way. And then he
paused and turned to her. “But I’ll do as you ask—
my lady.

He left without another word.

“Damn, Lady Janice,” said Miss Branson. “You were born to be a duchess.”

Lady Opal nodded her assent. Lady Rose’s mouth softly gaped.

Lord Yarrow stood up and glanced at the duke, who sat with his hands steepled before
his face, quite as if he was enjoying the spectacle. “I believe I’ll depart today
as well,” Yarrow said with a nervous smile, and yanked his thumb to the door.

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