My Last Duchess, стр. 41
She turned a little pink. “Three months. Or so.” She cleared her throat.
“Maddie will stay with me until the child arrives,” Ophelia said, giving Lady Knowe a look that told her the subject was closed.
Lady Knowe broke out laughing. “In case I didn’t think that you had the gumption to be a duchess, the glance you just gaveme would have proved me wrong.”
Ophelia felt herself turning pink again. But there was one question she had: “Will you really be leaving the castle and movingto Kent?”
“I would not wish to be in my brother’s household if it would cause the least disquiet in his marriage. It can be difficultif two women share domestic duties.”
“Oh, please,” Ophelia said, putting her cards on the table. “I adore my daughter. I am growing . . . fond of the duke. ButI think about walking into the castle and eight children . . .” She stopped hopelessly.
“You will grow to love them, because they are vastly lovable,” Lady Knowe said, smiling. “Even when they are naughty.”
“I was charmed by them yesterday,” Ophelia said. She turned to Maddie. “The three youngest had made up some questions to determinewho would be a good mother. Unfortunately, I failed all three.”
Maddie blinked. “I can’t imagine a better mother than you!”
“She doesn’t have any false teeth, she would like another baby, and she doesn’t care for the idea of a pet rat,” Lady Knowesaid. “Flat failure on all counts and yet, you’ll be happy to know that the nursery was unanimous in their declaration thatHugo should choose you. Horatius announced their decision at dinner last night.”
Ophelia could feel herself turning pink. “That was very kind of them, given that Betsy informed me that there are no freebeds in the nursery.”
“I have been informed that the nursery thinks a white rat would make a perfect wedding gift,” Lady Knowe said.
“I would be very grateful if you would consider making your home with us,” Ophelia said to her, ignoring the prospect of apet rodent. She hadn’t yet accepted the duke’s proposal, but here she was, making domestic arrangements. “I have no wish tomanage a castle by myself or, truly, to manage a castle at all.”
Lady Knowe’s eyes searched her face.
“Far more importantly, as I see it, you are the children’s mother,” Ophelia said. “To rip you away from them would be terrible. I cannot imagine moving away from my daughter,Viola. Nor would she be happy without me.”
“I will admit that I find the idea of leaving them painful.”
“You were never planning to leave,” Maddie said. “You just told Lady Woolhastings as much to frighten her off.”
“No,” Lady Knowe said. “If I felt that my brother’s happiness was hanging in the balance, I would leave. They are not my children,after all.”
“Ah, but they are your children,” Ophelia said, reaching out and touching her knee. “I would as soon come between a mother and her childrenas—” Her mind boggled.
“Right,” Lady Knowe said, her eyes looking suspiciously bright. “Our hostess seems to have gone missing. Shall we have somechampagne to celebrate my brother’s extraordinarily good luck?”
She looked toward the door, nodded, and a footman sprang into action. A few minutes later they were holding glasses of champagne.
“Normally I do not hold with a future mother imbibing of the grape,” Lady Knowe said to Maddie. “But I feel sure it wouldnot be harmful to your child.”
“No, indeed,” Maddie said, taking her champagne. “We’ve sent Ophelia’s former nanny over there to make sure that my husband’smistress—one of my husband’s several mistresses—doesn’t engage in unhealthy habits.”
“Excellent forethought,” Lady Knowe said, accepting without a flicker of an eyelash the truth about Maddie’s child.
“If male, that child will be Lord Penshallow’s heir,” Ophelia said, just to make sure that Lady Knowe knew the consequencesof mentioning the child’s parentage to anyone. But she had the same feeling that Maddie obviously had: One could trust LadyKnowe with one’s greatest secret.
Ophelia didn’t often drink wine, other than to sip it now and then. But at the moment, more than a sip was called for. Shehad an exhilarating feeling that her life was changing.
Surely that called for a toast.
Chapter Sixteen
When the Duke of Lindow finally returned from escorting his former almost-betrothed to her house—having been told in no uncertainterms that the lady in question declined any further consideration of matrimony—he found the entire house party quite tipsy.
A small supper had been served, after which the ladies had retired to a sitting room and continued to imbibe champagne.
“Three bottles,” Lady Fernby said cheerfully. “One each.”
His future wife looked at Hugo with huge brown eyes and said, “Maddie went home in my carriage, but I waited for you. I’minclined to marry you.”
“I’m very happy to hear that,” he said.
He couldn’t stop himself from smiling. First, Lady Woolhastings had declared that he was to marry her, and now Ophelia wasdoing the same. Women seemed to be taking marital matters into their own hands these days.
“We’ve been celebrating your . . . your fourth duchess, isn’t it?” Lady Fernby asked, her words slurring into each other.
“Third, and last,” he corrected.
“My last duchess,” Ophelia said dreamily. “It sounds like a poem. I’m happy to be your last duchess, and in return, you willbe my first and last duke.”
Hugo’s heart was thumping hard. His sister—darling, wonderful Louisa—had rid him of Lady Woolhastings. And then, it seemed,she had offered toasts until she succumbed, because when he looked about for her, he found Louisa reclining serenely on asofa, looking as prim as if she were napping in her own bedchamber.
“She was up most of the night with Alexander, who was feverish,” Ophelia said. Her tone was defensive.
Hugo dropped a kiss on her head because . . . she was defending his family. To him.
“I’m afraid that Alexander caught a chill at the fair,” he said. “How is Viola?”
“Very well,” Ophelia said. “We’re lucky, as she’s never been ill.”
“That will change,” Hugo said cheerfully. “When one child gets sick in the nursery, they all follow suit. All of them willlikely come down