Wherever she went, whispers followed her. She had entrapped the duke. She was a hypocrite, a liar, a shameless hussy who’d taken advantage of an honorable man. She was carrying his child.

George got more and more furious.

She went to Hatchards to buy a book for Emm, who was feeling housebound, and two ladies on the other side of the bookshelves were talking. George could see them through the shelves.

“There she is, the one who seduced the Duke of Everingham and got him to agree to marry her.”

“Not as pretty as the first one he was going to marry, is she?”

“I suppose that’s why she had to seduce him.”

To the discomfiture of the ladies George pulled out a couple of books, and through the gap in the shelves bared her teeth in a smile. “Shocking isn’t it, ladies? I’m not nearly as pretty as Rose. Obviously I had to do something!”

She bought the book for Emm and sailed out, angrily aware that she should never have lost her temper and that behind her a fresh buzz of gossip was brewing.

“I know it must be infuriating, George, dear, but gossip grows stale quite quickly, as long as it is not fed. You must try to rise above it,” Emm said when George confided in her. “And for heaven’s sake, don’t hit anyone, tempting as it might be.”

But it was the duke George wanted to hit.

“Tedious as it may be,” Aunt Agatha said, “you must realize that the rumors are merely a reflection of your triumph.”

“Triumph?” George repeated incredulously.

“They are gnashing their teeth with jealousy,” Aunt Agatha said loftily. “You have what they could not achieve.”

I have what I never did want. But she didn’t say it aloud.

*   *   *

It was a warm afternoon and the duke had invited George for a drive through the park at the fashionable hour. Since she knew that he disliked the slow pace and the constant greeting and gossip sharing that was the park at that time of day, she realized his purpose was to present them to the ton as a couple yet again.

He arrived on time, driving a very smart curricle pulled by a magnificent pair of matched bays. A liveried groom was seated behind.

Leaving a mournful Finn behind, she allowed the duke to assist her into the curricle; she could have climbed up easily if it weren’t for these wretched skirts.

They said very little as he negotiated the busy London traffic; horse and carts and wagons and barrow-boys and piemen and urchins and dogs, all hurrying in different directions. But once through the gates of Hyde Park it seemed somehow calmer, even though it was crowded in a different way, with elegant ladies twirling their parasols, gentlemen with canes as well as fine carriages stopping to take people up for a short time and put them down again.