Evening Star (Star Quartet 1)

“No. That is, it is not necessary. Susan Blakeson, my friend, will certainly share her maid with me.”

“His grace, the Duke of Graffton, madam,” Lanson announced from the doorway.

“It took a duke to make Lanson pretentious,” Aurora said under her breath to Giana. She rose and shook out her skirts. “Show the duke in,” she said.

The duke’s eyes, Giana saw, were glued to her mother, alight with pleasure. The ruby signet ring on his third finger flashed brightly as he brought Aurora’s hand to his lips.

“Must we really wait until our wedding night, my love?” he whispered against her ear.

“No,” Aurora said.

“Little baggage,” he murmured. He turned to Giana, who was fiddling awkwardly with a Se`vres figurine. “Forgive my abstraction with your beautiful mother, my child, but surely you cannot blame me.”

“Good evening, sir,” Giana said, taking in her mother’s besotted gaze. “No, sir, I cannot blame you.”

“We see eye to eye. Well, Giana, I understand you had quite a day.”

“’Twas but more of the same, sir,” she said with sublime disregard for the truth. “Your days are always far more interesting.”

The duke looked mournful. “Today I tried to tell that damned son of mine, Edward, you know, that you, dear Giana, are far too intelligent and much too discerning to have anything to do with a pompous oaf like him. He is persuaded you would make him a superb wife.”

Giana started, then laughed, unable to help herself. “You are jesting, sir. Come, Edward is much enamored with Lady Arabella Lawton.”

“True, I have been found out. But at least your face is now sunny, my dear. Life is far too short to take too many things seriously. If one cannot smile, one might as well cock up his toes.”

“Smile in the face of overwhelming adversity. That is your advice, your philosophy, sir?”

“You may be certain, Giana, that now that I have found your mother, I shall die with a happy smile on my vacuous face. Now, ladies, I am famished. Is dinner to be served soon?”

“Dinner is already served, and you have two arms, your grace.”

“To my profound relief, my dear.”

Chapter 13

Euston Station was hot, a press of milling travelers, harried porters, and shouting hawkers. “Some things are the same everywhere,” Alex said to Giana. “There’s our train, I believe.” Giana weaved where she stood. He grasped her elbow and she blinked away her dizziness, locking her knees beneath her.

“Should I take that as a compliment, Giana? Are you so overwhelmed that you are thinking of fainting on me?” At her angry gasp, he said, “Do wait, my dear, until I have you safely within. Ah, here is our porter.”

“Your wife is ill, sir?” the porter asked.

“My wife? Just a bit faint from the heat.” He gazed down at her, smiling widely. “She will feel much better presently.”

Alex assisted her into their private car, made room for the porter to place their luggage on the racks above their seats, and settled himself comfortably down beside her.

He gave her an engaging grin. “Come, Giana, surely I am not such a bad bargain? I wish you would admit you are not so averse to our little adventure.”

Little adventure? That was what he thought of it?

The whistle sounded shrilly, and the train jerked slowly forward, its stacks billowing clouds of black soot.

“No,” she stated, jerking at the door handle. “I won’t go with you.”

Alex grabbed her arm and pulled her, squirming, against him. “Hush,” he said in a surprisingly gentle voice. ?

??You are just nervous. It will pass.”

“I hate you,” she said against his shoulder.