His Mail-Order Duchess (Icy Dukes #6)

Chapter 1

CHAPTER ONE

“Lucy Crampton! What in Heaven’s name do you think you are doing?”

Lucy knelt over the scattered letters she had picked up from her aunt’s writing desk, careful to keep the papers aligned as best she could.

Her chest fluttered with nervousness. She had only meant to observe the notes, to try her hand at matchmaking in a small, private way… certainly nothing scandalous.

But she had not anticipated she’d be caught so soon.

“Aunt Selina, I can explain,” Lucy said. “I was only —”

“Explain what?” Selina’s eyes blazed, and her thin hands rested firmly on the desk, as if she could crush Lucy with a mere glance.

She was a tall woman, dressed in a navy silk gown, her gray-streaked hair pinned tightly, and her posture perfect.

“Only attempting to rearrange my client letters? Only pretending you might manage a match without my guidance? Lucy, I told you to stay clear of my affairs!”

Lucy’s hands trembled slightly, but she lifted her chin. Her dark blonde curls tumbled over her shoulder. “I thought… I might learn better by doing, Aunt Selina. Only in a small way! I just wanted to respond to one letter.”

Selina’s lips pressed into a hard line. “Small way? Do you realize how many mistakes you could have made in a single glance?” she groaned and curled her hand into a ball. “I should —”

“Forgive your dear sweet niece and teach her how to do this properly?” Lucy interrupted, a nervous laugh escaping her.

Selina’s frown deepened, and her fingers twitched as she straightened a letter on the desk with precision. “You are insufferable, child. Insufferable and bold in equal measure. I do not know whether to be furious or to prepare for inevitable ruin.”

Lucy’s cheeks heated, but she dared a glance up. “I would rather be bold than timid, Aunt Selina.”

Selina pinched the bridge of her nose, exhaling sharply. “Boldness is one thing. Recklessness, another entirely. Lucy, you have a knack for turning the smallest curiosity into… an enterprise of folly.”

Lucy’s lips twitched in spite of herself. “An enterprise of folly, Aunt Selina? You flatter me.”

“I merely state the obvious.” Selina’s voice was tight, almost trembling with the effort to maintain decorum. She stepped closer and picked up the half-sealed letter Lucy had been preparing.

“This is one of my clients’ letters! Do you realize what you were about to do? Send a reply without my knowledge?”

Lucy flushed but did not look away. “I only intended to test my skills, Aunt Selina. Just a trial. If you could just trust me with one, then I can prove to you how good I am at this.”

“A trial? Sending a letter without permission is hardly a trial, it is recklessness, and you chose the Risley family of all people!” Selina’s frown deepened.

Lucy had not written to the Risley family on a whim.

She had grown up in London, where information travelled faster than intention.

One did not need an invitation to learn things; one merely needed to listen.

Drawing rooms, modistes’ shops, carriage rides shared with acquaintances who talked too freely.

Names surfaced again and again, attached to the same complaints, the same disappointments, the same unguarded truths.

The Risley son was one such name.

Lucy had never seen him, never been introduced, yet she knew what society whispered... that he had refused more than one suitable young woman, not out of arrogance but discomfort. He was said to dislike attention, to avoid women who treated marriage as an ambition rather than a partnership.

Lucy had also heard of a young woman, unconnected to the Risleys entirely, whose circumstances were discussed with similar frustration.

She was said to be capable, plain-spoken, and content with a quieter life.

Too practical for men who wanted admiration, too serious for those who wanted charm.

The sort of woman society dismissed not because she lacked merit but because she did not compete.

Lucy’s plan had been simple, deliberate, and cautious.

She did not intend to arrange a meeting or to press either party.

She meant only to redirect attention. Her letter had been designed to plant an idea where none had been allowed to take root.

An idea that what the Risley family sought might already exist outside the usual circles, overlooked precisely because it did not clamor to be seen.

She had written nothing sensational. She had offered no assurances.

She merely described temperament, inclination, and circumstance enough to suggest compatibility without presumption.

If the family found the notion unsuitable, the matter would end there.

No harm done. If, however, it intrigued them, then Lucy would know her instincts were not merely fanciful but useful.

That was the test she had set for herself. She had not thought of it as defiance. She had thought of it as proof.

“I thought it would be harmless!” Lucy protested, a little breathless from the thrill of being caught. “I only wanted to offer information. I believed they might wish to know. I simply wanted to see if I could suggest a match they might like —”

Selina pinched the bridge of her nose, exhaling sharply.

“Lucy, curiosity does not excuse folly. You cannot meddle in lives that are not your own.” She crossed the room and stood directly in front of Lucy.

“Tell me, Lucy, when will you stop this ceaseless pursuit of dreams? When will you stop chasing after… flights of fancy and instead settle down as a young lady ought to do? You are only twenty and six years old. There’s marriage, home, propriety… ”

Lucy’s fingers twitched at the edge of the desk.

“Aunt Selina…” She paused, gathering her courage.

“I do not mean to be defiant, but I think I could be very good at matchmaking. I’ve learned so much from you, watching how you speak with people, how you notice what makes people happy.

Surely, if I were given the chance to put what I know into practice… ”

Selina’s eyes narrowed. “Do you truly believe that any of this will bring you contentment, Lucy? You are far too young to concern yourself with the lives of others when you have yet to attend to your own. Your mama did not send you here to indulge your whims but because she refused to tolerate your impulses any longer. It was better you come to me than remain under her judgment.”

Lucy’s cheeks flamed, but she held her gaze. “I understand why Mama sent me here, but I will not play into the life she wants me to lead. I have a plan. I am good at this.”

“Enough, Lucy. I will not permit it. Stop this pursuit, and for once… listen. Attend to your own duties, your own proprieties, and leave these flights of imagination behind. You will find that the world rewards caution far more than ambition.”

Lucy did not answer at once. Her hands, which had been clasped tightly together, loosened slowly. She could feel Selina’s gaze on her in that moment, like she was waiting for her to say something in response. But Lucy intentionally remained quiet.

Only then did Selina exhale, shutting her eyes in a bid to calm herself.

“Lucy, you must understand,” she continued in a softer tone.

“One of the reasons your mama sent you here, to the countryside, is because of the trouble you have caused in the past. Your impulsive choices, your quarrels, the foolishness that seems to follow you. She believed that time away, reflection, might temper your inclinations. I believe so, too.”

Lucy lifted her chin then to meet her aunt’s gaze. “Inclinations, Aunt Selina?”

“Impulses, Lucy. Recklessness. You must know yourself. You have, on more than one occasion, acted without regard for consequence. That is precisely why you are here.”

Lucy’s lips pressed together. Deep within, she felt no remorse for the choices that had brought her here. Those so-called mistakes had shaped her courage and her resolve. She was not sorry for the woman she had become, even if her mother wished she were someone else entirely.

She met Selina’s eyes again. “I understand why you wish me to reflect, Aunt Selina. But the choices that brought me here… they have made me who I am. I cannot regret them.”

“Then you have learned nothing!” Selina said sternly. “Mark me, if you attempt this again... this meddling, this daring… I shall have to employ measures to ensure your proper occupation!”

Lucy did not flinch at the sharpness of Selina’s words, though they struck deeper than she cared to show. Her composure held, but something inside her tightened all the same, a familiar ache she had learned to carry in silence.

It seemed, at times, that no one truly listened to her.

Not her mother, not her aunt, not anyone who claimed to know what was best for her life.

They heard her words only to correct them, to redirect them, to remind her of her place.

What she wanted was always treated as a phase, a stubborn fancy to be outgrown rather than a conviction to be understood.

She had been an only child in a house where silence often spoke louder than affection.

Her mother’s presence had been constant and exacting, her expectations laid down like rules that could not be questioned.

Approval was rare, disappointment frequent, and freedom almost entirely absent.

As for her father, he had existed more as an idea than a presence.

Away on business, away in spirit, away when she had most needed someone to stand between her and her mother’s relentless judgment.

Lucy had learned early that compliance brought peace but never contentment.

Now, standing before her aunt, she felt that same familiar weight pressing upon her chest. Selina spoke of reflection and correction, of proper occupation and measured conduct, yet never once asked Lucy what she wished to become.

Never once considered that her determination might be more than mere defiance.