For one thing, the jewel of tonight’s rout was not the orchestra and the dancing but rather the once-private library now open to guests. A hundred people were on the dance floor, but dozens milled about the renovated library, settling into a plush sofa to thumb through the pages of an intriguing book, or admiring the angelic vase on its pedestal of honor or the artwork upon the walls.
Thanks to Marjorie’s tutelage, Lawrence had even hung one of his own paintings: a landscape featuring Elderberry and Mango.
He and Chloe split their sets evenly: one to dance, one to mingle with guests, and back again. It was the best kind of exhausting. She had never smiled so much in her life. Her cheeks ached from laughter, her feet were numb from dancing, and her throat was sore from delightful conversations with so many friends, old and new.
Chloe tilted her mouth toward her husband’s ear as they waltzed.
“Is the Leader of the House of Commons fighting with Lady Quarrington over marzipan?”
“Your brother has Tiglet stuffed in his waistcoat,” Lawrence whispered back. “We can unleash him if necessary.”
Chloe grinned back at him.
At first she had worried that it would be a struggle for him to learn to rule society rather than allow society to rule him, but her spirited duke had been more than a match for the challenge.
As for her fear that she would never be memorable enough to be bon ton, Chloe had discovered that their prejudices were irrelevant. She didn’t need their approbation. The Duchess of Faircliffe did—and wore—what she wished. Hadn’t they seen the caricatures?
She and her husband had gleefully accumulated their own circle of powerful people: some peers, some from the fashionable world, some thinkers, some poets. A few statesmen and agitators. A smattering of artists. And every single member of Chloe’s reading circle, a few of whom appeared to have brought Chloe’s book recommendation with them to the gala: Pierre Choderlos de Laclos’s shocking Les Liaisons dangereuses.
Over the last weeks of Parliament, she and Lawrence had worked day and night disseminating pamphlets, participating in charities, parsing research, rewriting proposals for parliamentary acts, and putting together planned remarks and incisive questions to fashion a series of watertight speeches. He had been magnificent.
“After this,” her husband murmured, “it will be heaven to do absolutely nothing for a while.”
“Oh, I don’t know.” Chloe trailed the tip of her finger up his lapel and wiggled her brows suggestively. “I’m sure we can think of something.”
He caught her hand and brought it to his lips. “How soon can we leave this party?”
“It’s our party. Of course we can disappear if we like.” She glanced over her shoulder. “Let me speak to my sister first. She’s been standing next to the refreshment table for half an hour, and hasn’t eaten a single thing.”
“Tommy? Stoically resisting the allure of fresh lemon cakes?” Lawrence let go of Chloe’s hand with obvious reluctance. “Perhaps she has a fever.”
“Or something,” Chloe agreed.
It took more time than she liked to weave through the well-wishers to the refreshment table, but when she arrived, her sister still had not changed position.
Tommy stood in shadow two paces from the dish of meat pies, her face half-obscured by a profusion of false curls.
“Eat one,” said Chloe.
Tommy blinked at her. “Eat one what?”
“Whatever you like. This table is covered with all of your favorites.” Chloe gestured at the towers of lemon cakes and meat pies.
Tommy looked startled to discover the treats in front of her.
Chloe hid a smile.
“Hmm.” She linked arms with Tommy and lowered her voice. “Miss Philippa York is here tonight.”
Tommy’s gaze flew back across the room. “I know.”
Chloe tilted her head. “She looks nice.”
“She’s beautiful,” Tommy corrected. “She’s always beautiful. The cerulean trim beneath her bodice really brings out the blue of her eyes.”
“Mm-hm,” said Chloe. “And she’s no longer spoken for. Unbetrothed and completely free.”
Tommy swallowed. “I know.”
“You could attend the reading circle as Tommy now, instead of Great-Aunt Wynchester,” Chloe suggested. “I could formally ‘introduce’ you.”
Tommy shook her head. “I can’t.”
“Or,” Chloe said, “you could just…talk to her.”
“I can’t.” But Tommy’s gaze was locked on Philippa.
“Of course you can,” Chloe said. “You’re a Wynchester, and Wynchesters can do anything.”
“Even this,” Chloe promised. “Just do three impossible things: walk over to her, introduce yourself, and smile. It could mark the beginning of a wonderful adventure.”
Tommy straightened her shoulders. “No Wynchester can resist adventure.”
“That’s right.” Chloe let go of her sister’s arm.
“Wish me luck,” Tommy whispered.
Then she straightened her wig and strode toward Philippa.
Acknowledgments
This book would not exist without the invaluable support of so many incredible people: Lauren Abramo, my brilliant agent, for all of the wisdom and encouragement. Leah Hultenschmidt, my fabulous editor, who started the ball rolling and is phenomenal. The entire team at Forever, from art to promo to edits: you are fantastic.
Huge thanks to Rose Lerner, whose knowledgeable and thoughtful suggestions are incomparable. Intrepid assistant Laura Stout, who has been assisting me since birth (Hi, Mom!) and handles the mailing of prizes and all other tasks I cannot do from Costa Rica. My fabulous beta readers: Erica Monroe and Emma Locke, plus my awesome early reader crew. Thank you all so much!
I wouldn’t have made it through the past year without the unflagging support and encouragement from too many people to name, but I’ll try: Bernardita, Caro, Darc, Heidi, Jean, Julie, Karen, Lace, Lenore, Mary, Rachel, Susan, my Jewel sisters, and the Elite 8, whose Zoom happy hours are an absolute delight.
Muchísimas gracias and all of my love goes out to my personal romance hero, Roy Prendas, who not only came up with the idea for our Regency-themed wedding but also helps in countless ways to enable me to spend as much time as possible writing the next chapter. ¡Te adoro! You give me Happy Ever After every single day.
Lastly, I want to thank my amazing, wonderful readers. You’re all so fun and funny and smart. I love your emails and adore chatting books together in the newsletter VIP List, on social media, and in our Historical Romance Book Club group on Facebook. Your enthusiasm makes the romance happen.
Thank you for everything!
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Don’t miss Tommy and Philippa’s story in
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available fall 2021.
About the Author
Erica Ridley is a New York Times and USA Today bestselling author of historical romance novels. When not reading or writing romances, Erica can be found riding camels in Africa, zip lining through rain forests in Costa Rica, or getting hopelessly lost in the middle of Budapest. She loves to hear from readers.
You can learn more at:
EricaRidley.com
Twitter @EricaRidley
Facebook.com/EricaRidley
Instagram @EricaRidley
Books by Erica Ridley
The Dukes of War
The Viscount’s Tempting Minx
The Earl’s Defiant Wallflower
The Captain’s Bluestocking Mistress
The Major’s Faux Fiancée
The Brigadier’s Runaway Bride
The Pirate’s Tempting Stowaway
The Duke’s Accidental Wife
Once Upon a Duke
Kiss of a Duke
Wish Upon a Duke
Never Say Duke
Dukes, Actually
The Duke’s Bride
The Duke’s Embrace
The Duke’s Desire
Dawn with a Duke
One Night with a Duke
Ten Days with a Duke
Forever Your Duke
Rogues to Riches
Lord of Chance
Lord of Pleasure
Lord of Night
Lord of Temptation
Lord of Secrets
Lord of Vice
Gothic Love Stories
Too Wicked to Kiss
Too Sinful to Deny
Too Tempting to Resist
Too Wanton to Wed
Too Brazen to Bite
Magic & Mayhem
Kissed by Magic
Must Love Magic
Smitten by Magic
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