2. Chapter 2
two
A cross Mayfair, the Devonworth townhouse was a stately and elegant home with priceless antique furniture in every room.
The breakfast room was no different, with a Regency era dining table large enough to hold six comfortably and a matching zebrawood buffet laden with food opposite the single window.
From her place at the table, Jenny perused the libretto that had arrived last night.
It was for Le Petit Duc , the opéra comique opening in Paris that was to be her debut.
The text had been bundled in pretty paper, tied with a bow, and delivered by a private messenger.
She’d slept with it next to her pillow and spent the morning rereading the story.
Thankfully, she’d spent the past several years in Paris studying for such a role, so her French was up to the task.
Her brother-in-law had his nose in a newspaper, while Jenny and Cora discussed the intriguing plot of the new opera.
“Has anyone seen the morning papers?” The women’s mother breezed into the room with the air of someone looking for drama. That is to say, with the same aura as usual.
Jenny looked up from the libretto on the table next to her eggs on toast. “Good morning, Mama,” she said.
Devonworth stood upon Fanny’s arrival but retook his seat. “I’ve the Times .” He opened the newspaper again. “Would you care for a few pages? ”
“Not that newspaper.” Her mother waved his offer away as she made a circle of the room as if a paper might be stashed among the sausages and kippers on the buffet. “The scandal sheets.”
Jenny shared an amused look with her sister. “Mama, you know we don’t allow those rags in this house,” Cora said.
“Still?” Fanny flung herself into her usual seat at the table next to Jenny. A footman rushed forward to fill her empty coffee cup. “I thought that was done with. You and Devonworth are happily married now. Who cares what they print about you?”
Jenny couldn’t help but laugh. Cora and her husband’s quick marriage had been the talk of the town when they’d married in spring.
He was a well-respected if slightly impoverished earl; she was a much less respected American with the rumor of questionable parentage hanging over her head.
The scandal sheets had a field day with them, especially when it came to speculating on whether or not their marriage had been consummated.
Jenny had it on good authority that it had been, many times over.
“We prefer not to read such rubbish,” Devonworth commented and went back to his reading.
Her sister looked like the perfect countess now with her auburn hair styled in an updo, wearing a fashionable, lavender morning dress. Jenny didn’t miss how Devonworth reached over and gave Cora’s hand a loving squeeze.
A pang of longing shot through Jenny. She wasn’t jealous—she had no intention of falling in love ever again—but she did feel a glimmer of…
something when she saw them together. Some secret wish to one day know that a man as compassionate and earnest as Devonworth would care for her in that same way.
Society had once referred to him as the ice prince, but he’d thawed delightfully under Cora’s attention.
Was it foolish to imagine something similar for herself ?
Jenny had no illusions of finding anything remotely like that with Lord David. He was as far from compassionate and earnest as one could get. The words self-indulgent and sinful came to mind.
“But we arrived home from Liverpool yesterday. The news must be out about what happened there by now. Don’t you want to know what everyone is saying?” her mother asked.
Fanny Dove was not the typical mother of an heiress.
She was an orphanage runaway-turned-actress from Chicago who’d been a wealthy man’s mistress before marrying and becoming somewhat respectable.
Few people knew about her storied past, but it was clear to see how very theatrical she was and how she thrived on attention.
Her family had been involved in an entanglement with a ruthless criminal that had led to a shooting—of course she wanted to know what people were saying about it.
“Mama,” Jenny said, “perhaps you should have some breakfast.” She’d rather not peek at the scandal sheets. It was only a matter of time before news of her betrothal to Lord David came out and she wasn’t looking forward to the attention.
“Who needs breakfast when you can have gossip about yourself served to you instead?” Her mother smiled.
Cora laughed. Their mother was the only one they knew who reveled in scandal, except maybe for Lord David. “Fine.” To the footman, she asked, “Would you please fetch the papers from his lordship’s study?”
The man nodded and quietly withdrew.
“You do have them. I knew it!” Fanny proclaimed.
Devonworth peered from behind the newspaper, ears reddening.
“I might have been curious myself.” Cora blushed and took a sip of her coffee.
“Were we mentioned?” Jenny asked, holding her breath .
Cora put down her cup and nodded. “Yes, today’s the first mention of anything. I had the footman scrounge up copies from yesterday and there was nothing. I’m glad it took a few days for word to reach London. I don’t expect Eliza and Simon to have any trouble. They’re well out to sea now.”
It had been decided that the newlyweds should set sail on an ocean liner after the trouble. An extended wedding trip would give Devonworth time to settle things involving the shooting before they returned.
Knowing their family was mentioned made something unpleasant roil in Jenny’s stomach, but she managed to stop herself from asking if she and Lord David appeared in the papers.
By the time Fanny had served herself toast and sausage, the footman returned with a small stack of newsprint, which he placed next to Fanny’s plate on the table.
She pushed her food away and opened the top one with relish, eagerly scanning for any mention of them. She didn’t have to search very long.
“Aha! Look, Lord David is mentioned.”
Jenny’s heart dropped like a stone into her stomach.
“They say he absconded to Liverpool with the infamous Dove family. We’re infamous,” she laughed, delighted.
Clearing her throat, she read, “ Trouble followed the group in the form of a retinue of criminal misfits. The strife culminated in a shoot-out that left one man dead—notorious Whitechapel crime lord, James Brody—and several more injured. Lord David took part in subduing one of the ruffians who attacked the family. ” She paused, eyes round with glee.
“Oh, he sounds very dashing, doesn’t he? ”
“Does it say anything else?” Jenny asked.
Fanny scanned the article. “A little about James Brody and his criminal empire. Oh, here: For his part, Lord David is said to have betrothed himself to one of the Dove sisters. ” Her eyes swelled with pride as she looked upon Jenny. “You are mentioned, dear. Sort of.”
Jenny couldn’t breathe. Somehow, in the dark of that carriage with David and the action over the last week, her marriage had seemed fantastical. Something she’d conjured in a dream that only existed in the dark of night. But there it was in black and white in the light of day.
“About that.” Devonworth folded the Times and set it to the side. Clearing his throat, he said, “I’m sending word to the duke later this morning. Cora and I talked it over and we think it’s best to do this properly. We’ll have an engagement party here to formally announce you as a couple.”
Jenny glanced at Cora. She could have given her some warning about this decision. Her sister looked down, refusing to meet her gaze. “We discussed it last night,” Cora explained.
“That’s wonderful,” Fanny said and clapped her hands.
“But that’s unnecessary,” Jenny said at the same time.
Finding herself the center of attention, she hurried on, thankful the footman had retreated after leaving the newspapers so they had privacy.
“I’ve already explained that the marriage is only for the inheritance. There’s no need for celebrations.”
Devonworth gave a hollow laugh. “He’s a duke’s heir, Jenny. We have to treat this like a real marriage because it will be real.”
“But do we?” Hardly anyone in London Society would accept her, especially once she made her debut on the Paris stage. She’d rather save herself the embarrassment of such a public announcement. “I don’t know why that’s necessary. We’ll likely divorce anyway.”
They all stared at her as if she’d proclaimed the Queen had given birth to a pony. She hadn’t mentioned the divorce when she’d explained the marriage plan to her family. She’d also neglected to mention the night she’d promised David.
“Why do you say that?” Cora asked.
She shrugged. “It’s Lord David. Eventually, he’ll get bored or find some princess he’d rather marry instead.”
Devonworth frowned, appearing dubious. “Be that as it may, if we don’t want to fan the flames of even more gossip, we must do this all in the open.
I haven’t spoken with David or his brother yet, but I expect they’ll agree.
” Placing his napkin on the table, he stood.
“If you’ll excuse me, I’ll go draft that letter now.
” He kissed Cora on the lips and made for the door.
Fanny sprung to her feet and followed him. “Tell him that we must have a large gathering and a full orchestra. The guest list will need to be carefully selected, too. We can’t have just anyone.”
Their voices disappeared down the hall, and Cora moved to take Fanny’s spot next to Jenny. “Why did you mention divorce?” she asked, her voice severe.
“Cora…”
“Is divorce part of this plan?” When Jenny looked away, Cora grabbed her shoulders. “You can’t lie to me, Jenny Dove. I can see through your lies. It is, isn’t it? You got him to agree to a divorce.”
“It wasn’t difficult. He only wants to marry me so he can thumb his nose at Society.”
Cora scoffed. “No one would go through the trouble of marriage to thumb their nose at anyone.”
“Well, he also gets me . You know how he’s propositioned me.”
Cora nodded. “That makes more sense, but I still don’t think it’s enough to make him agree to marriage.”
“What do you mean? He wanted to help me.”
“Have you ever known Lord David to be particularly helpful? ”
“What are you saying, Cora?” Jenny pressed her hand to her stomach. The unpleasant sensation from earlier had returned.
“I’m saying that Lord David may have something else up his sleeve.”