Bringing Down the Duke by Evie Dunmore

Author:Evie Dunmore
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: Penguin Publishing Group
Published: 2019-09-02T16:00:00+00:00

Chapter 18

The next morning, the noise of trumpets and kettledrums blasted the breakfast room, infusing everyone with patriotic enthusiasm except, it seemed, the small group of suffragists and Aunty Greenfield.

“What is this dreadful noise, dear?” the elderly lady bellowed at Catriona.

“The music for tonight,” Catriona replied at the same penetrating volume. “They are setting up the orchestra below the terrace.”

“I see,” Aunty said, unimpressed. “I daresay they don’t play like they used to play.” She cast a disapproving glance around the table and it promptly snagged on Annabelle. “You are pale, child. Goodness, are you feeling unwell again?”

Annabelle gave her an unconvincing smile. “No, ma’am, I’m fine.”

“Good,” Aunty Greenfield said, “you should be. At your age, your health should still be quite robust.”

At her age, she should be wiser than to moon over a duke who hadn’t returned.

Catriona folded up her napkin. “I’m going to watch the experts prepare the fireworks.”

Annabelle was on her feet. “I’ll come with you.” Fresh air was exactly what she needed.

The fireworks were being set up on the other end of the French garden. The thin layer of snow had receded overnight, revealing the smooth white gravel covering the paths and the intricate stone carvings on the dry fountains and weathering Greek marbles. It would be so lovely to see the gardens in summer, with the trees in all their lush green glory and a warm breeze rustling through.

“This is such a beautiful place,” she murmured.

“It is,” Catriona said, her eyes on the wooden structure ahead that was growing steadily under the workmen’s hands. “But have you seen those snow globes with tiny castles inside?”

“Eh. Yes?”

“That’s Claremont.”

“I’m not sure I follow.”

“It is in a bubble. It isn’t real. Not for us.”

“And Oxford is? The town is unchanged since the crusades.” She found herself strangely aggravated by the discussion.

Catriona looped an arm through hers. “Never mind. I just mean to say that Oxford is a good place for us.”

“Of course it is,” she murmured.

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