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.
One duke who came with a warning from a source she wasn’t sure she could trust yet?
Or one life that went nowhere, that drifted aimlessly and desperately until she faded
away?
Janice knew which risk she’d take her chances on.
“No, I tell you.” Her eyes glittered with resolve. “No.”
That was better.
She headed downstairs to the red drawing room, prepared for battle.
Chapter Nine
Everything was different now. Janice was different. Other than Ladies Opal and Rose,
which of the occupants of the drawing room—none of whom apparently wanted Janice there—knew
the rumor about her and Finn? Who believed it? Who didn’t?
It was such an overwhelming question, she actually couldn’t care. What could she do
about it anyway? The ugly tittle-tattle, it seemed, had unlocked a place in her that
had always feared the worst—that she wouldn’t be liked, that she wasn’t good enough.
She still couldn’t believe that unbeknownst to her, she’d been the victim of gossip.
Of a spurious story.
Yet she’d survived, thanks to her family’s good name.
And she’d continue surviving—but now it would be because she took an active role in
her own future.
In the corner by the fire, a lovely woman, no more than twenty-five, sat quietly stitching.
She wore a modest pale lavender muslin gown and matching lavender paisley shawl, the
colors of light mourning. But the garments couldn’t disguise the luxuriousness of
her hair—a rich walnut hue—or her beautiful cream-and-rose complexion.
The other members of the house party were gathered in their usual spots around the
low table.
The men stood when Janice arrived.
“I trust you’ve settled in?” There was nothing beyond politeness in the duke’s question.
“Yes, very well, thanks,” she told him.
The lady by the fire directed an endearing smile Janice’s way. She had bright, intelligent
eyes, and Janice immediately got the feeling that at least she wanted her there.
Halsey introduced them. “This is Mrs. Friday, a widow, former schoolteacher, and your
new chaperone. She recently moved
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.
One duke who came with a warning from a source she wasn’t sure she could trust yet?
Or one life that went nowhere, that drifted aimlessly and desperately until she faded
away?
Janice knew which risk she’d take her chances on.
“No, I tell you.” Her eyes glittered with resolve. “No.”
That was better.
She headed downstairs to the red drawing room, prepared for battle.
Chapter Nine
Everything was different now. Janice was different. Other than Ladies Opal and Rose,
which of the occupants of the drawing room—none of whom apparently wanted Janice there—knew
the rumor about her and Finn? Who believed it? Who didn’t?
It was such an overwhelming question, she actually couldn’t care. What could she do
about it anyway? The ugly tittle-tattle, it seemed, had unlocked a place in her that
had always feared the worst—that she wouldn’t be liked, that she wasn’t good enough.
She still couldn’t believe that unbeknownst to her, she’d been the victim of gossip.
Of a spurious story.
Yet she’d survived, thanks to her family’s good name.
And she’d continue surviving—but now it would be because she took an active role in
her own future.
In the corner by the fire, a lovely woman, no more than twenty-five, sat quietly stitching.
She wore a modest pale lavender muslin gown and matching lavender paisley shawl, the
colors of light mourning. But the garments couldn’t disguise the luxuriousness of
her hair—a rich walnut hue—or her beautiful cream-and-rose complexion.
The other members of the house party were gathered in their usual spots around the
low table.
The men stood when Janice arrived.
“I trust you’ve settled in?” There was nothing beyond politeness in the duke’s question.
“Yes, very well, thanks,” she told him.
The lady by the fire directed an endearing smile Janice’s way. She had bright, intelligent
eyes, and Janice immediately got the feeling that at least she wanted her there.
Halsey introduced them. “This is Mrs. Friday, a widow, former schoolteacher, and your
new chaperone. She recently moved
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