The Accidental Duchess

Author:Jessica Benson
Format: mobi
Published: 2010-04-27T23:15:03.187000+00:00

By the end of my recitation of events, Cecy was looking thoughtful. “I can tell you a few tricks that will wipe Mathilde out of his mind. And,” she continued, “it sounds like the situation has potential. You really should let him bed you, Gwen, and see if he does it differently as—”

Well, I have to admit it, my interest was piqued. But only by the larger intellectual ramifications of her point, mind. “Do you think it would be different?” I asked. “I mean, he’s the same person regardless of which he’s being.”

Cecy looked at Myrtia. “This should be your forte,” she said. “A nice, edifying theoretical debate!”

“No theory to debate,” said Myrtia, promptly “I posit that as Milburn it would be all flash and no substance. Cambourne knows how to get a thing done.”

“This,” I said, as repressively as I was able, still being rather preoccupied with Cecy’s supposition, “is not aiding my case, Myrtia. I expect lewd suggestions from our friend here”—I inclined my head toward Cecy—“but you! You shock me!”

“Oh well. Console yourself with the thought that at least you aren’t having to put up with my darling mama,” Cecy said, sipping her tea. She sounded breezy enough, but there was no getting around the dark circles under her eyes.

“Cec?” Myrtia said, with some hesitation. “Is there anything—would you like to talk?”

“No,” Cecy said, decisively, and then, “Well, perhaps.”

We waited.

Finally, she said, “It is her new, ah, amour. Oh God—” she stopped and put her head in her hands—“I don’t know what to do.”

I touched her shoulder hesitantly, and when she lifted her head, I thought the tilt of her chin was almost defiant. “She’s . . expecting a child,” she said quietly. “My father has thrown her out. She says she wants him to sue her for a divorce. Wants him to.”

We were quiet. Myrtia, I suspect, was, like me, trying to imagine the enormity of the scandal that was sure to result.

Cecy, by this point, had regained her customary control. “She wants to go live with him, the father of this child. She says that she has, finally, after all these years, ‘discovered real, abiding, and true love.’ ‘If you have found real and abiding love,’ I said, ‘why were you trying to bed my footman?’ And she said, ‘Real and abiding love only opens one’s eyes to the amount of love in the world and makes one want to experience more of it.’ Oh, and it gets worse!”

That was hard to imagine. But if Cecy said it got worse, I would have to assume it did.

“He’s a groom,” she said, quickly. “Neither of them has a feather to fly with. Father has turned him off with no reference, of course. She wants to live with us until they can set up household.” She dropped her head again to her hands. Her shoulders began to shake.

This time, Myrtia put a gentle hand on her, brushing back her hair. “Don’t cry, Cec,” she said, “like everything else, this too will pass.

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