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Authors: Kieran Kramer

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A stab of horror went through Janice. Could Mama and Daddy be ashamed of her? She
knew they pitied her, but shame was something else entirely!

“You’re suggesting she’s a millstone?” Lady Opal’s voice went up an octave.

“No one likes to be around a failure.” Lady Rose sounded a bit smug, as if she weren’t
a failure herself. “It’s bad luck, especially if one has a reputation of excellence
to uphold.”

Janice swallowed. Her parents weren’t like that. They loved her.

But then she remembered all the important events she was missing, how Mama had brushed
them off and so had Daddy. And then they’d practically pushed her into the coach.

Did they really not
want
her at Mama’s grand ball? Or at the dinner parties that they’d surely hold in Gregory
and Pippa’s honor?

Was her presence becoming a burden?

“I do recall that she made a bit of a fool of herself over some man,” said Lady Opal.

Janice’s eyes widened.

“Finnian Lattimore.” Lady Rose was quiet. “He was gorgeous. Don’t tell me you don’t
remember the details.”

Breathe,
Janice told herself, and laid a palm on her breast in hopes of slowing her heartbeat
down.

“Remember what?” asked Opal.

“There’s an old rumor that won’t die,” Lady Rose said with some amusement. “A very
dark rumor, and no one who’s heard it would dare repeat it to the family.”

“Why don’t I know of it?”

“It must have been when you were bedridden those six months. Yes, that was it. You
were deathly ill, and I wouldn’t share certain
on-dits
with you. And then it never came up again.”

“What is it?” Lady Opal asked. “You’re driving me mad.”

“It is said that she might have given herself to him. Long ago. In Ireland. At some
wedding. And then later at Vauxhall, of all places.”

No.

Janice was glad she was seated and not standing. They had it all wrong! That was Marcia
Finn had taken advantage of in Ireland and left high and dry—

Marcia!

Not
her.

The injustice of it all made her dizzy.

She wasn’t angry at Marcia … poor Marcia. She’d had an awful experience.

But it was frustrating for Janice.

Entirely
too
frustrating.

Because how could she ever defend herself? She’d never be able to. Never in a million
years would she correct that statement—

Not without putting a blight on her own beloved sister’s reputation. Janice would
have to bear it with a smile. She’d have to pretend she’d never heard it. Mama always
told them to ignore gossip anyway. Never to dignify it with a response.

And Janice must admit, too, that the skewed tale hadn’t come from nothing. She
had
attended a few events with Finn in London. Of course, she’d had no idea of Marcia
and Finn’s painful past at that point.

He and Janice had never—

They’d never done what Lady Rose said they’d done.

They’d kissed at Vauxhall. Nothing more. They’d shared several kisses, yes, down a
dark path, away from the glow of the lanterns. But nothing else. She hadn’t dared!
At the time, she’d felt guilty, and she knew she’d been careless to disappear with
him like that, but she thought nothing would ever come of it.

But wouldn’t you know … Mama had always told her that gossip was wicked, that words
got twisted and innocent people hurt. And Mama had also told her to behave appropriately
at all times—that bad decisions always came back to haunt one.

Janice was nearly ill now with horror, humiliation, and fury.

Damn that Finnian Lattimore for still wreaking havoc in their lives!

But she was more furious with herself for ever falling for his false charm.

“Who told you such a thing?” Lady Opal asked her sister.

“Mrs. Barrett, the doctor’s wife who brought you your special possets. She’d just
been to London and heard it from one of her dear friends.”

“It can’t be true,” said Lady Opal. “Lady Janice would be married to him if it were.”

“Exactly. Or he’d have been challenged to a duel by her brothers or father,” said
Lady Rose. “No decent family would allow such scandal to go unchallenged.”

“But he
is
gone.” Lady Opal sounded speculative. “Banished, perhaps?”


Opal.
His brother married her sister. It can’t be true.”

Opal chuckled. “You’re right. But it’s the sort of delicious gossip that doesn’t die,
does it? Not for years.”

“Not until she marries, most likely.”

“Well, if it’s as widespread as all that, perhaps she never will.”

“That’s the thing. It’s not widespread, and I’m sure it’s because the family is extremely
popular. They’re known for their integrity and kindness. Not only that, Lady Janice’s
older sister has an impeccable reputation. Anyone passing this gossip on would seriously
think twice—and would likely do so only if they consider it imperative.”

“Why would Mrs. Barrett have told you, then? And her friend in London tell her?”

“Mrs. Barrett has a son, an artist with a studio in Mayfair”—that would be Eugene!
One of Janice’s favorite beaus!—“who was very interested in Lady Janice. That’s why
her friend felt compelled to tell her. And she only found out because her son, too,
was considering Lady Janice as a marriage prospect.”

“Oh, dear. Who was this friend?”

“Lady Corcoran.”

Janice put her fingers over her eyes. Lady Corcoran’s son Marcus had been Janice’s
most serious beau. She’d never understood why he’d suddenly … disappeared.

Now she knew.

“And Mrs. Barrett told
you
all this because…?”

“Because she found me crying,” Lady Rose said, “lamenting the fact that I had no suitors.
She felt sorry for me, so she told me there was one girl who had it worse and I should
think of her whenever I pitied myself—Lady Janice. She told me to keep it close to
my chest.”

Dear God.
Janice could barely tolerate listening. The pain nearly made her ill.

“I see,” Lady Opal said. “Then there really have been no ill effects. The parents
are invited everywhere. Lady Chadwick’s school has a waiting list. And here Lady Janice
has been invited to a duke’s house.”

“By his addled grandmother,” her sister reminded her in a wry tone. “It’s going to
be dreadfully dull until she departs. Whether the rumor’s true or not, no doubt she’ll
be on her best behavior.”

“What a trial for us all, I’m sure,” said Lady Opal. “Yet now I’m quite curious about
her.”

“We’ll endure, I suppose,” Lady Rose conceded. “Did you see the men? They’re not looking
forward to her stay, either. I don’t think they know that rumor. Or they’d at least
have given her the time of day.”

Both women giggled. Not long, but enough that Janice’s breath grew even more shallow.

“She really is like us,” said Lady Rose.
“Before.”

“Yes, when we thought we had choices.”

“But we didn’t. We wasted time imagining that we had.”

“And now we have nothing,” said Lady Opal, her voice hollow.

There was another silence.

“Perhaps we should tell her that her luck has nearly run out,” said Lady Rose. “Maybe
she could find a man whose mother doesn’t know—”

“We don’t have time to look after her.” Lady Opal was brisk. “We have our own problems.
And she has that family. She can always fall back on their support.”

“That’s true,” said Lady Rose quietly.

And they both departed.

*   *   *

Janice took a deep, slow breath.

No wonder.

No wonder her three serious beaus had disappeared one by one. Her good reputation
was clinging by a thread. All it would take was one indiscretion …

Say, with a groom?

She swallowed hard, stunned by the sudden knowledge that she’d been in such a precarious
social position for a long time and had never known it. The situation would be laughable
if it weren’t also so damnably serious.

All she had that was her own was her good character. Everything else came to her from
either Mama or Daddy or both: her wealth, education, appearance, and even talents.

Yes, she was bookish and tended to be shy and unable to command a room the way Marcia
and Mama always had. But Janice had managed to have a perfectly acceptable social
life, until—

Now that she thought about it, everything had gone distinctly downhill after Finn
had left. She’d gone to Ballybrook for the summer, but when she’d returned to London
in the autumn things had changed. Something had to have been said by someone … likely
by Finn himself before he was banished.

And in the process, as gossip tends to do, Marcia’s torrid history with him and Janice’s
flirtatious one had become as entangled as Daddy’s rose vines and grown into one sad
story with Janice as the unfortunate subject.

She’d never tell her sister that her painful, long-ago indiscretion had now become,
in a way, Janice’s. Marcia would be devastated. So would Duncan, her husband. And
God forbid that Mama and Daddy ever found out, either.

Janice would never tell them. Everyone was so happy now. Things had worked out for
Marcia in the best possible way. Janice prayed the rumor would wither away and die.
Surely it would eventually.

About Ladies Opal and Rose … Janice didn’t even care that they’d spoken so carelessly
about her. She was glad not to be in their unenviable position. No wonder they were
a bit cruel. To be all alone in the world … the very idea made Janice shudder.

Yet they’d said she was similar to them, too.

That observation gave her pause. What if Mama and Daddy really were embarrassed by
her persistent failure to secure a husband? Panic began to creep up on her when she
thought back to that morning’s breakfast, which seemed an eternity ago now.

“But Mama, I’ll miss your birthday ball,” she’d said. “Hundreds of people come.”

Mama had flung out her hand. “Oh, that old thing.” As if the fete in her honor were
nothing special.

“And Gregory and Pippa’s visit,” Janice had added. “I don’t want to miss that. They’ll
have Bertie.”

“You’ll see them
next
time,” Mama had replied in that serene way she had.

“But you’ll have so many dinner parties in their honor.” Janice loved Mama’s dinner
parties. “Think of all the august personages I’ll miss. Why, the King might come to
wish Gregory and Pippa well.”

“Even if he did,” Daddy said, “you’ve seen His Majesty before.”

“You need to go to the country,” Mama told her.

Daddy nodded vigorously.

And an hour later, they’d practically pushed her into the coach.

When it sprang forward, she’d looked back and waved. Mama’s face had lost that steely
resolve. Her entire slender body exuded relief as she waved madly at Janice. Daddy
stood with one arm around Mama’s shoulders, a satisfied smile on his face.

Now Janice had to wonder as she stared at the stark tree line outside the window if
Mama and Daddy might never have believed she could win the duke’s notice. However,
they might have enjoyed having her absent for a while.…

Her face was extremely hot when she stood. She was angry at herself for not seeing
all the possible reasons she was here at Halsey House. But even more, she was humiliated—by
that rumor, yes, but just as much by the idea that she might be an encumbrance to
her family.

Dear God, if they were ashamed of her—

And now here she was … not wanted at Halsey House, either.

She belonged nowhere.

She and the two spinster sisters Opal and Rose
were
alike.

Well, she would have to change that. She wouldn’t continue allowing people to look
right through her, to push her, to pull her hither and yon, to treat her as if she
didn’t matter.

She’d carve out her own place in the world.

Deep inside her, something began to glow hot and bright: a need to prove herself,
that was what it was. Maybe it was the ambition the dowager had noticed.

Unleashed.

Janice was ready to crack the metaphorical whip Isobel had mentioned.

To become a questionable guest.

To dangle after a duke!

If she could become the next Duchess of Halsey, Mama and Daddy would be so proud.
Her brothers Peter and Robert and her sister Cynthia would look at her over the breakfast
table in a new, respectful light. Marcia, Gregory, and their spouses would also be
impressed. And Janice’s friends and acquaintances would cock their heads and say,
I never knew she had it in her. She’s the bookworm, after all. The middle sister whom
no one noticed. The one who carried the shadow of a nasty rumor around with her like
a ball and chain.

But she did. She
did
have it in her!

The dowager had been right. If Janice let this opportunity to gain the Duke of Halsey’s
notice pass her by, she was a fool. As Mama had said, if Janice had to fall in love,
it might as well be with a duke.

And if he’d heard of the rumor?

Well, she’d simply have to rise above it. She’d act as a duchess-to-be would. Whoever
applied the secret would win him—

“… no matter what she looks like,” according to the dowager. “No matter how big a
dowry she has, or whether she’s even from a good family. None of those things will
matter.”

Not even a nasty rumor.

She’d do it, Janice decided as she marched over to a looking glass and crossed her
arms. “No,” she practiced aloud. “Absolutely not.”

Hm-m-m.
She’d better try again. It wasn’t quite believable enough.

And she knew why. It was because Luke Callahan’s admonishing face swam before her
eyes. The duke was dangerous. That was what the groom had said repeatedly. She must
beware.

But she thought upon what would become of her if she lost her good name, her family’s
support, and her ability to choose her destiny.

Now
those
were dangers she never wanted to encounter.

BOOK: Say Yes to the Duke
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