Good Dukes Wear Black by Manda Collins Page B

safely out of the room, she continued as if she’d not been interrupted.
    â€œYou may not be officially betrothed, but it’s been accepted by both of our families since you and Lord Goring were children. So it is highly untoward for you to be seen in the Duke of Trent’s carriage.” Mrs. Dauntry frowned suddenly and Ophelia knew she’d just noticed the bump on her forehead.
    â€œWhere did you get that injury?” she asked, setting her teacup down and hurrying to her daughter’s side. “I sincerely hope that the Duke of Trent is not responsible for it or I fear your father will have words with him. And that’s nothing to what Lord Goring’s response will be.”
    She hovered over Ophelia and leaned closer to better observe the spot, touching it gingerly before Ophelia pushed her away. “Mama! Stop. You needn’t treat me like a child. It is merely a bump on the head.”
    â€œPray excuse me for being concerned about your well-being, Ophelia,” said Mrs. Dauntry, though she did step back. But she rang the bell again. And when her maid returned, asked for some bandages and liniment.
    â€œIt’s already been cleaned once today,” Ophelia said, relaxing a bit. It was, she was forced to admit, good to know her mother still cared about her well-being. But it was hardly the ordeal she was making it out to be. “Truly, I’m fine. It doesn’t even hurt anymore.”
    â€œBut what happened?” her mother asked again, resuming her seat and pouring herself another cup of tea.
    Ophelia bit her lip, debating whether telling her mother the truth would make her more or less upset. Finally, realizing that she’d likely hear the truth through gossip, she explained what had occurred with Maggie earlier in the day. Though she omitted the trip to the Hayes Clinic because she knew that would be more inexcusable in her mother’s eyes than riding in an open curricle with the Duke of Trent for all the world to see.
    â€œHow ghastly,” Mrs. Dauntry said, clasping a hand to her bosom. “I hope you see now why I disapprove of your friendship with Mrs. Grayson. Her husband might be the son of Sir Michael Grayson, but only someone of bad ton would get herself taken to the madhouse.”
    â€œI am not upset at the damage it might have done to my reputation, Mama,” Ophelia said, fighting the urge to roll her eyes. “Maggie might have been killed in the scuffle. And I would not wish my worst enemy to be taken against her will to a madhouse. Much less a dear friend. Where is your compassion?”
    â€œOh, pooh,” Mrs. Dauntry said with a frown. “I have plenty of compassion for the lady. But as my daughter of course you are my first priority. I cannot sit idly by while your reputation is put into danger by a dispute between husband and wife. Truly, I fear what Lord Goring’s response will be.”
    And, Ophelia reflected with an inward sigh, this was why she wished to avoid her mother altogether when she arrived home. It wasn’t that Mrs. Dauntry was callous, she simply had a single-minded dedication to seeing the realization of the match she and her dearest friend had hatched between them when Ophelia was born. And her daughter’s reluctance thus far to abide by her mother’s wishes was making her press even harder.
    â€œMama,” Ophelia said aloud, “I barely even know Lord Goring.” And what she did know of him was that he was quite dull and seemed to have as little interest in Ophelia as she had in him. Since seeing her two dearest friends wed men who adored them, and they in turn adored, she’d come to feel even more strongly that a match like the one her mother proposed for her would bring nothing but unhappiness.
    â€œOh, that won’t matter,” Mrs. Dauntry said with a wave of her hand. “I barely knew your father before we were wed and look how well we rub along