The Duke I'm Going to Marry(42)
“Who are we talking about?” Dillie repeated when neither her mother nor her aunt seemed able to find her voice.
“Lord Ealing,” her mother said, letting out another long breath.
“Charles?” Crumpets! What had they heard about the incident at the fountain? Did they know she was the girl involved? Dillie’s instinct was to panic. Had Lady Withnall seen her and Charles by the fountain last night? Had she seen Ian tossing Charles into the fountain? Or seen Ian comforting her?
Then again, nothing untoward had happened between her and Ian. She had nothing to be worried about in that regard. In truth, she wished that she did have something to be worried about, because having Ian’s arms around her and his lips planted on hers, probing the depths of her mouth, would have been great fun.
But nothing had happened. Not a blessed thing. Ian hadn’t felt the slightest urge to conquer or plunder her.
No, he’d been a perfect gentleman.
Drat.
“Seems Charles and his recently widowed cousin—”
“Lady Mary Abbott?”
“Precisely.” Her mother cleared her throat. “Seems they are rather close cousins.”
Julia leaned forward. “Tell her just how close.”
“Oh, Dillie! My sweet, innocent child. They were caught in one of the Wakeford bedchambers in a most embarrassing position.”
“Lord Ealing’s clothes were off and thrown wet on the floor,” Julia intoned.
Dillie felt her cheeks grow hot. “Poor man,” she said, feeling not a whit of remorse. She dared say no more, for her mind was as scrambled as the eggs she usually ate in the morning. Not this morning. Her stomach was in full revolt. “Wet, you say? He might have fallen into... oh, who knows? Perhaps the Wakeford fountain. He imbibed quite heartily last night. Accidents happen.” She tittered.
Ugh! She never tittered.
“Perhaps so,” her mother said with a slow nod, “but that doesn’t explain why Lady Mary was caught naked beside him.”
“Or why her clothes were lying beside his, bone dry,” Julia added.
***
The gossip was repeated later that afternoon in front of their visitors, among them two attractive eligible bachelors, Lord Randall Whistlethwaite and the honorable Geoffrey Harding. Neither was anywhere near as handsome as Ian, but Dillie was pleased to see them nonetheless. Ian had predicted that other suitors would come forward now that Charles was no longer in the hunt, so to speak.
Still, she was suspicious of these new characters. Neither young lord had shown her the slightest interest before today.
They told her she looked lovely. They expressed their horror at what Charles had done, confirming that he was a base ogre and she was fortunate to be rid of him.
She smiled prettily. She was very good at smiling prettily, having perfected the art after a mere dozen years of training. She could also walk across a room balancing a book on her head, something Lily had never mastered. That book would be in Lily’s hands and she’d be reading it before she was halfway across a room.
Dillie glided to the door in her fashionable tea gown of palest rose velvet to greet more callers. She wore velvet because it was a chill, damp day. A simple wool or muslin gown would have been too plain for the occasion, and silk would have made her look overdressed. “Good afternoon, Gabriel,” she said, greeting Daisy’s husband with genuine warmth. She adored Gabriel. He wasn’t quite as good-looking as Ian—was any man?—but he came close.
“I just saw Lady Withnall’s coach draw up in front of the house,” he said in a whispered warning, leaning close to buss her cheek. “She was gazing out of it, her beady eyes as bright as hot, red embers. Someone’s about to get burned this afternoon.”
Dillie’s heart sank. “Oh, no.”
Gabriel eyed her curiously. “The blood just drained out of your head. Calm yourself, Dillie. It isn’t you.” He arched an eyebrow. “Right? You’ve been on your best behavior, haven’t you?”
She nodded.
He let out a breath. “Good, otherwise I’d have to kill the man who led you astray.”
“I haven’t been led anywhere,” she assured him, rolling her eyes. “My days are as dull as ever.”
“Poor child.” He patted her head. “Eloise and Ian will be joining us. Stay close to Eloise. She’ll protect you from that tiny harridan.”
Within moments, Pruitt strode in to announce Lady Withnall’s arrival. All conversation ceased, and guests who had been smiling only moments earlier began to exchange worried looks. Dillie scanned the crowd. If she wasn’t to be Lady Withnall’s next victim, then who among them was?