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Blame It on the Duke(7)

By:Lenora Bell


Alice hid a smile behind her lacy parasol. “Must you go?”

“I really must. I’m ever so late.”

He couldn’t return her from the courtyard back to the parlor fast enough.

Hodgins had to run to catch them, and only arrived after Lord White had rudely left Alice without even saying good-bye to her parents, escaping out the front door and fairly leaping into his yellow phaeton.

Alice laughed softly.

Another one down.

Now her third social season was well and truly over. Lord White had been the last prospect standing.

One step closer to her journey to India and to returning her fragment of the Kama Sutra to its proper home.

“Oh! There you are.” The excitable Lady Tombs entered the parlor, her blue eyes shining and white cap ribbons floating.

“I’m sorry, Mama.” Alice tensed her shoulders in anticipation of a sound scolding. “I’ve no idea why Lord White left in such a—”

“Never mind the earl, my dear.” Mama waved the words away. “He was a frivolous fop and you’re best rid of him.”

Alice stared at her mother suspiciously. “Yesterday you said he was the quintessence of masculine perfection.”

“Oh! That was yesterday. This is today. And your father has the most wonderful news. Follow me to the study, if you please.”

Alice’s senses twitched to high alert like her pet cat’s nose twitched when she scented a mouse in the walls.

She and her mother had opposite ideas of what constituted wondrous tidings.

Maybe she had received an unexpected offer of marriage from a mystery gentleman.

Alice smoothed the peony-pink skirts of one of the ridiculously beribboned and frilled gowns her mother forced her to wear.

No impoverished rake would ruin her Eastern adventure.

She jabbed her hairpin back into place.

Whoever he was—she’d make short work of him.



They found Sir Alfred pacing up and down the length of his study, hands clasped behind his back and deep furrows lining his forehead. “Damned good-for-nothing boy,” he muttered as he walked. “Ruined. Utterly ruined.”

“What’s the matter, Papa?” Alice asked, puzzled by the tirade. Hadn’t her mother said there was good news?

“We’ve had a letter from Fred,” Mama whispered.

“Oh? What news? When will he arrive?” She was eager to set their plan in motion and obtain permission to accompany Fred to Calcutta. They’d agreed it would be best if Fred suggested the idea.

“What news? I’ll tell you what news,” Sir Alfred sputtered. “The worst news. Damned empty-pated boy.”

“Language, sir,” fluttered Lady Tombs, following after her husband with small, worried steps.

“I’ll damn him to hell and gone! I’ll damn him right out of my will and testament! Marry an opera singer, will he? Throw away everything? If I were there I could have bought her off easily enough, the greedy little trollop. But now the damage is done.”

“Oh!” Lady Tombs laid a hand to her high, lacy collar.

“What’s this?” Alice clutched the edge of the desk. “Fred is married?”

This was disaster; the end of all her dreams.

How could Fred have been so foolish? Now how would she go to India? And who would deliver the documents and her translations to the college in Calcutta? She couldn’t entrust the priceless and fragile palm leaf manuscript of the Kama Sutra to the post.

“Never should have sent that fool of a boy to the Continent,” her father grumbled. “He was an easy mark for fortune-hunting jezebels. I’m too old for all this traveling. I wanted Fred to assume the mantle. Instead he disgraced us.” He jabbed a finger at Alice. “Why couldn’t you have been born the heir, eh? You’d have made a damned fine boy, Alice. You’ve a sensible head on your shoulders.”

Why, indeed? Alice thought with familiar frustration. She was the one who loved learning languages and longed to travel to foreign lands. Fred wasn’t interested in studies or traveling. It truly wasn’t fair.

“Please, sir, I beg you,” pleaded Lady Tombs. “Please don’t dwell upon it so. There may still be time to have the marriage annulled.”

“Not likely,” the baronet said, his face flushed with anger. “That doxy will bear him a babe in seven months’ time.” He stabbed the air with his forefinger. “Mark my words.”

“Yet remember that today is also a happy day, my dear husband.” Her mother sidled closer. “Our Alice will be the means to restore us from disgrace.”

Oh no. No, no, no.

Now her mother would be even more desperate for Alice to find an aristocrat to wed.