The Day of the Duchess (Scandal & Scoundrel #3)

“Because I don’t want to. And you won’t force it.”

“I forced you to come here and find your replacement.”

“Which benefits us both. But spending time with you is a fool’s errand. We’ve always liked each other too much in the moments, Malcolm. And they were never enough to make up for how we hurt each other.”

He looked away, out the window, and she silently begged him to leave her. He didn’t. Instead, he said, all calm, “We cannot ride, anyway.”

She followed the direction of his gaze to the spot in the distance where a carriage appeared, massive and black like a summer beetle, pulled by four matching horses and a pair of matched outriders. Her heart began to pound. “The first arrives.”

The words were barely out when a second carriage turned into the long drive. “And the second.”

Seven more vehicles trundled down the drive, black and serious, like mourners at a burial plot, and Sera turned to her husband. “Do they all know each other? Or are they exceedingly punctual?”

He cut her a look. “I assure you, I had no intention of the day beginning at seven o’clock in the morning.”

“Then they’ve consulted each other on arrival time.”

He harrumphed at the words. When she raised an inquisitive brow, he added, “More likely, the mothers knew that the early bird gets the worm.”

Sera couldn’t help her smile. “Well, Your Grace, you must admit, you are a terribly plump worm.”

He ignored her. “But why eight carriages? I only invited four.” His confusion turned nearly instantly to horror. “Dear God. You don’t think they brought sisters as well, do you?”

“They wouldn’t dare. Sisters are my weapon. These girls shall need to find their own.”

“Is that what this is? Battle?”

She cut him a look. “It’s marriage, Duke. Of course it’s a battle.”

One side of his mouth kicked up. “It always was with us.”

She turned away at the soft words. “From the very start.” She watched the line of coaches approach. “The second carriages come with assorted necessities. Our belongings should arrive today, as well.”

His brows knitted together. “It’s the largest and best appointed home in Britain. Are they afraid I shan’t feed them?”

“No. They’re afraid you won’t have ladies’ maids who are expert coiffeuses. And that you shan’t have dozens of perfectly tailored evening gowns. And shoes. And underthings.”

“They’re correct about that.”

“Of course they are. You’re a bachelor. This home requires . . . feminization. Which is one of my tests for your . . . let’s settle on suitesses for the time being.”

“It most certainly does not require feminization.” She’d never heard him so affronted. “And you have tests?”

“You asked me to find you a second wife, Duke. Considering what a hash you made with the first, I should think you’d be grateful for tests.”

“What, like foot races? And dressage?”

“You’re not far off, as a matter of fact.” His brows rose, and she rewarded his curiosity. “Lawn bowls, certainly.”

He nearly chuckled, and Sera was nearly pleased. Nearly remembered how handsome he was. Nearly remembered how wonderful it was to be the focus of his pleasure.

Nearly.

A firm knock sounded on the door, followed instantly by Sesily’s bellow. “Sera! Haven’s harem has arrived!”

Her lips twitched, and she was quite proud of herself for the serious look she gave her husband. The duke. This would be much easier if she stopped thinking of him as her husband. He wasn’t, after all. Not really. Not since their wedding. Not since before.

Not that it would be difficult for her, either way.

She was merely thinking of the other women. Of her replacement.

She cleared her throat, and called out, “Yes! I see them!”

“Well, we should go down and give them a look, don’t you think?”

“I do, rather,” Sera replied, enjoying Malcolm’s discomfort.

“Right then!” Sesily said, cheerfully. “I’ll just tell Sophie to squeeze into whatever frock still fits round her ever-expanding midsection.”

“Oi! I’m standing right here! Wearing a frock that fits quite well, thank you very much! And you’re one to talk, covered in cat fur. You’re not bringing him, are you?”

“Of course I am. It shall be the first test of their mettle! Also, Brummell has discerning taste.”

“As the beast enjoys your company, I can’t say I believe that.” Seline had arrived in the corridor beyond. “Come along, Sera!”

“Good God, there are a lot of them. And you think the house is not feminine enough?” Haven asked.

She smiled. “Not nearly, no.”

He growled his frustration, turning for the door to his chamber. “Don’t scare them off.”

“My sisters?” she asked, all innocence. “They don’t scare easily.”

“You know precisely whom I mean. If anyone can terrify a group of debutantes, it’s you lot.”

“They don’t call us the Dangerous Daughters for nothing, Your Grace.”

He did not laugh, and she realized the retort was not funny. Not for him. Not for her, either. Not when he turned back, time stretching with impressive weight, and said, “You never came with things.”

She stilled. She hadn’t come with things. Not with a trousseau, or a maid, or anything, really. None of those things mattered when she married him. But he’d been too angry to notice. “I was different.”

She hoped he’d let the answer stand without reply.

He didn’t. “Because you came for me.”

Every time.

She could have lied, but she didn’t wish to. She didn’t want to be someone she was not ever again. “Yes.”

He nodded and crossed over the threshold, closing the door behind him.

Only then did Sera say the rest. “I came for you. Just as I left for you.”

She smoothed her skirts and went to meet the women who hoped to marry her husband.





Chapter 12





Scrumptious Scandal! Seraphina to Select Successor!



The Talbot sisters met Haven’s suitesses in the drive, along with a collection of their secondary players—four mothers, one father, and three miniature dachshunds who did not care for Brummell, who hissed with fervor from the safety of Sesily’s arms.

Beyond the collection of guests, in the frenzied backdrop of the manor house courtyard, servants from within and without already rushed about, unloading trunks and hatboxes and saddles and—was that a bathtub? Why would they require a bathtub?—as the quartet of girls was thrust forward for Seraphina’s inspection, each with seemingly less understanding of the protocol required for the situation.