so he returned to Parliament in a black frock coat, waistcoat, and tweed trousers, this time to take his seat as the new Duke of Sommerville.
Being back in town was less hectic socially for the new duchess. Restricted from attending balls, fetes and soirees while in full mourning, she still had a barrage of visitors at their Hanover Square town home. One of the first was her mother, Lady Benton who arrived with a reluctant Elizabeth.
Her mother greeted her effusively, “Your Grace, so good to have you back in town.”
Cici protested, “Mother really, such formality is unnecessary and rather awkward don’t you think?”
“Of course, it is simply that I am still trying to get used to it and I find it easier if I keep repeating it.”
“Really mother? When is it going to take? You’ve managed to include it in every conversation in the past few weeks.” Elizabeth mimicked her mother’s voice perfectly. “My daughter the most noble Duchess of Sommerville... or, my daughter Her Grace. And then there is my daughter the Duchess this or my daughter the Duchess that, it has really become quite tiresome.”
Ignoring her eldest daughter’s mockery she effused to Cici, “I have never had more invitations. Your rise in stature has opened many doors socially for your father and me.”
Elizabeth gave a much undignified snort. “You’d think her nibs here had hung the moon for all the folderol.” Her tone took on a whiny quality as she spoke her bitter and jealous words. “Here I sit, the firstborn sister without a sign of a Duke or Marquess coming up to scratch. Really, the title should have been mine.” Leaning forward she taunted Cici in a whisper, “have you asked the Duke about Lady Winslow, yet?”
Cici could not take another moment. “If you’ve only come to torment and insult me sister, then you really should be on your way. This house is in mourning and I won’t have anyone upset with your pettiness and jealousy.”
Elizabeth, who was in rare form, dipped into a regal curtsy and simpered, “Most Noble Duchess, please forgive this lowly lady who simply laments her sister’s theft of a suitor.”
“Theft? You set the whole damnable thing up yourself.” Cici’s face was a vision of outrage as she sputtered in indignation at her sister’s words. “You were the one who didn’t want a mere Viscount. Now you are jealous of the sister you called unfashionable and clumsy. For years you have belittled me for everything; my hair, my height, my frame, my freckles. No matter how many sonnets men write about your practically nonexistent diddies, you’ve got your dander up because I married before you, and to a Duke at that. Now at the ripe old age of twenty you are in danger of becoming a spinster.” She gasped in mock outrage, “Surely a fate worse than death. Well sister dear, you have no one to blame but yourself. You didn’t want Andrew and acted like a conniving bitch when you conspired to avoid his suit by ruining my reputation.
“And thank the good Lord she did.” The deep male voice flowed smoothly into the room startling the already agitated women. They turned to him at once. Lady Benton appearing eager to be in the presence of the rarely seen new Duke, ignored her daughter’s bickering, chalking it up to sibling rivalry. Elizabeth and Cici both looking distressed - the former for getting caught in a public display of pettiness, which she usually reserved only for family and the latter mortified and wondering how long he had been standing there. Goodness gracious, she had just called her sister a bitch and used some exclamations that she normally wouldn’t have used at all, especially not in Andrew’s presence. Had he heard her less than ladylike harangue? Her questions were answered immediately.
“Although I don’t agree with some of your rather unsavory language, my dear, the message is right on target. Lady Richards, if you don’t have a purpose for your visit such as kindness or
Being back in town was less hectic socially for the new duchess. Restricted from attending balls, fetes and soirees while in full mourning, she still had a barrage of visitors at their Hanover Square town home. One of the first was her mother, Lady Benton who arrived with a reluctant Elizabeth.
Her mother greeted her effusively, “Your Grace, so good to have you back in town.”
Cici protested, “Mother really, such formality is unnecessary and rather awkward don’t you think?”
“Of course, it is simply that I am still trying to get used to it and I find it easier if I keep repeating it.”
“Really mother? When is it going to take? You’ve managed to include it in every conversation in the past few weeks.” Elizabeth mimicked her mother’s voice perfectly. “My daughter the most noble Duchess of Sommerville... or, my daughter Her Grace. And then there is my daughter the Duchess this or my daughter the Duchess that, it has really become quite tiresome.”
Ignoring her eldest daughter’s mockery she effused to Cici, “I have never had more invitations. Your rise in stature has opened many doors socially for your father and me.”
Elizabeth gave a much undignified snort. “You’d think her nibs here had hung the moon for all the folderol.” Her tone took on a whiny quality as she spoke her bitter and jealous words. “Here I sit, the firstborn sister without a sign of a Duke or Marquess coming up to scratch. Really, the title should have been mine.” Leaning forward she taunted Cici in a whisper, “have you asked the Duke about Lady Winslow, yet?”
Cici could not take another moment. “If you’ve only come to torment and insult me sister, then you really should be on your way. This house is in mourning and I won’t have anyone upset with your pettiness and jealousy.”
Elizabeth, who was in rare form, dipped into a regal curtsy and simpered, “Most Noble Duchess, please forgive this lowly lady who simply laments her sister’s theft of a suitor.”
“Theft? You set the whole damnable thing up yourself.” Cici’s face was a vision of outrage as she sputtered in indignation at her sister’s words. “You were the one who didn’t want a mere Viscount. Now you are jealous of the sister you called unfashionable and clumsy. For years you have belittled me for everything; my hair, my height, my frame, my freckles. No matter how many sonnets men write about your practically nonexistent diddies, you’ve got your dander up because I married before you, and to a Duke at that. Now at the ripe old age of twenty you are in danger of becoming a spinster.” She gasped in mock outrage, “Surely a fate worse than death. Well sister dear, you have no one to blame but yourself. You didn’t want Andrew and acted like a conniving bitch when you conspired to avoid his suit by ruining my reputation.
“And thank the good Lord she did.” The deep male voice flowed smoothly into the room startling the already agitated women. They turned to him at once. Lady Benton appearing eager to be in the presence of the rarely seen new Duke, ignored her daughter’s bickering, chalking it up to sibling rivalry. Elizabeth and Cici both looking distressed - the former for getting caught in a public display of pettiness, which she usually reserved only for family and the latter mortified and wondering how long he had been standing there. Goodness gracious, she had just called her sister a bitch and used some exclamations that she normally wouldn’t have used at all, especially not in Andrew’s presence. Had he heard her less than ladylike harangue? Her questions were answered immediately.
“Although I don’t agree with some of your rather unsavory language, my dear, the message is right on target. Lady Richards, if you don’t have a purpose for your visit such as kindness or
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