The Viscount Needs a Wife by Jo Beverley

And how, exactly, did an Honorable widow greet an aristocratic girl?
    She dipped a very slight curtsy. “Good morning.”
    Miss Godyson-Braydon merely inclined her head. Such petty battles didn’t bother Kitty, but she was supposed to manage this girl?
    Sillikin was staring, which wasn’t at all surprising. If Dauntry was a marble box, his ward was a jet one. She was polished and perfect in every way, and Kitty was aware of being very much the opposite. However, she remembered that jet was a relatively soft stone.
    â€œYou’ve come to visit Mrs. Lulworth?” she asked.
    â€œI’ve come to speak to you.”
    â€œThen shall we go into the house, Miss Godyson-Braydon?”
    â€œNo. We have heard an odd rumor, Mrs. Cateril. That you are to marry Lord Dauntry.”
    Kitty supposed word would have escaped. There was no way to deny it, despite an irrational wish to do so.
    â€œI am, yes. On Wednesday.”
    â€œImpossible. He is betrothed to me.”
    Kitty couldn’t help a laugh. “I doubt Lord Dauntry would have forgotten such a fact.”
    The girl flushed but said, “You wear no ring. I do.” She pulled the black leather glove off her left hand to reveal a ring with a blue stone, presumably a sapphire.
    Kitty was at a loss, stuck in this impossible situation, her heart fluttering with fledgling doubt. Could Dauntry be insane? But with deep certainty she knew that whatever else he was, he wasn’t mad. Therefore, the girl must be lying.
    â€œThat is a lovely ring. But I have no reason to believe Lord Dauntry gave it to you. You’re a child,” Kitty said calmly. “Why would he marry you?”
    The girl didn’t so much as blink. “For my dowry. It’s very large, and if I take it out of the family, the viscountcy’s fortunes will be sadly depleted.”
    Kitty had to consider that. If the girl spoke the truth, Dauntry might be sensible to marry her. They weren’t closely connected by blood. After the disastrous meeting in the lane, she’d been sure Dauntry would back out of the arrangement. Had he committed himself to her and then come to his senses? Then fled? That would be unbalanced, at the least, but then he was an ex-soldier. Who knew what chaos lay beneath?
    â€œI fear,” the chit said, a glint of triumph in her eyes, “he may have played a game on you.”
    Sillikin growled. It was so unusual, it snapped Kitty out of her paralysis. She quickly picked up her dog. “You speak nonsense.”
    â€œDo I? Ask instead why he would marry
you
, ma’am. You have no beauty or style, nor any fortune. I also gather that you are barren.”
    Kitty wished they were close enough for Sillikin to bite, because every word was horribly true. There was no reason for this marriage beyond some chilly convenience, and she’d been probing the puzzle for a week. The encounter in the lane had shown her to be not at all the bride he’d been promised. So he’d . . . what? Devised a cruel punishment? To build her hopes and then leave her at the altar, exposed to the sniggers of people surprised she’d ever thought to marry so unbelievably high? Had he assumed that she’d go around the village, boasting about it? Had he then returned to the Abbey and proposed marriage to Isabella?
    She’s his ward.
    Is that even legal?
    Her churning mind couldn’t make sense of anything,but her finger was bare, and that sapphire ring glinted as brightly as the girl’s sharp blue eyes.
    â€œI came to warn you,” Isabella said. “If you go to the church on Wednesday, you’ll be left standing at the altar.”
    Ah! So that is the plan. They think they can make me flee?
Kitty almost smiled at the thought, but kept a sober face. “You have given me much to think about, Miss Godyson-Braydon. I bid you good day.”
    She turned and walked into the house, feeling the glare directed at her back.