The Duke I'm Going to Marry(30)
Never a good sign. Dillie suddenly felt quite uncomfortable. Both Lady Withnall and her companion were staring at her intently. The pair looked like brilliantly colored birds of prey, dressed as they were in their dark silks. They sported matching egret feathers in their hair, and each was armed with a Spanish fan to cool herself as the ballroom began to warm.
Dillie wished she had thought to bring one along, for the heat of their gazes was quite suffocating. She glanced toward the open doors that led onto the terrace, resolving to escape into the Wakeford garden as soon as possible.
Daisy nudged her as Lady Withnall introduced the woman standing beside her, who turned out to be the dowager duchess of Edgeware. Ian’s mother! Her name, ironically, was Celestia. Yet there wasn’t a trace of heavenly kindness or warmth in the woman.
The dowager had Ian’s gray-green eyes, but hers held no brilliance. She had Ian’s honey-blonde hair, but hers did not appear natural. No doubt the strands had turned gray years ago, but dyes had been around for centuries and did wonders for those who wished to cling to their youth.
Dillie silently chided herself. Was she judging the woman too harshly?
There were no laugh lines at the corners of her mouth or crinkles of merriment at the corners of her eyes. This was a cold, bitter person who felt disappointed by life. Perhaps she had cause to be bitter, but Dillie simply didn’t know enough about her yet to form an opinion.
Rose took no time in lighting a fuse. “A pleasure to meet you, Your Grace. We know your son, and are quite grateful for the friendship he’s shown our family.”
“Friendship?” She arched a haughty eyebrow and waved her gloved hand in arrogant dismissal of Rose’s claim. “Then I doubt you know him very well at all.”
Dillie clutched her dance card a little too hard, crumpling it in her tightening fist. Keep silent. Ian doesn’t need your protection. “Oh, but we do,” Dillie couldn’t help but respond. “His closest friends are my brothers-in-law.” She nodded to Daisy and Laurel. “Lord Gabriel Dayne is Daisy’s husband. Lord Graelem Dayne is Laurel’s husband.”
Her sisters smiled back sweetly. She wanted to throttle them. Why weren’t they jumping to Ian’s defense? Ugh! Laurel never kept her mouth shut about anything. Why was she turning into a tight-lipped clam now?
“They also happen to be Lady Eloise Dayne’s grandsons,” Lady Withnall explained blithely.
“Of course, I know Lady Eloise. I hear her grandsons are charming boys,” Ian’s mother said, bestowing her own, cold smile on Dillie. “Both have turned out quite well. She must be awfully proud of them.”
Lady Withnall nodded. “She is, though they did worry her for a time.”
The dowager duchess nodded sympathetically. “My son’s doing, no doubt. He must have been a terrible influence on them, but they’ve moved on and bettered themselves.” She cast Daisy and Laurel smiles of acknowledgment. “Unfortunately, my son isn’t capable of improvement. It pains me to speak ill of him, but his latest scandal cannot be overlooked.”
“What scandal?” Julia—bless her—asked when all of Dillie’s sisters seemed to have grown mute.
Dillie shot each a glower, but they merely responded with mawkishly innocent grins. Oh, why had she allowed Rose to drag her to Lady Withnall’s side? No good would come of it. And why had she remained? She had legs, after all. She could walk away.
But she wasn’t going to do it. She wanted to stand here and entertain their gossip. In truth, her actions were unpardonable.
“Well,” the dowager began, her voice lowering. Dillie tipped her head forward and perked her ears. Ian would be livid if he knew what she was doing. She wouldn’t blame him if he never spoke to her again.
On the other hand, if there was a scandal attached to Ian, she needed to know about it. How else could she help him? Lady Withnall would surely spread the shocking details across London before the night was out and someone had to stem the damage. She was that someone, for Ian wouldn’t do anything to help himself.
The orchestra opened the dancing with a lively waltz, and the chatter in the ballroom grew louder as more guests arrived. Dillie moved a step closer to the two matrons, eager not to miss a word, though she knew Ian’s mother couldn’t be trusted to tell the truth. After all, she detested her son.
“Well, it’s no longer a secret, so I may as well speak of it.” The dowager’s eyes took on a keen brilliance, as cold and bright as the diamonds she wore. She cleared her throat, as though hesitant to reveal the latest scandal attributed to her own son, but her eyes gave away her delight. “He’s fathered a child and taken that child from its mother.”