Read Online The Trouble With Being a Duke by Sophie Barnes - Free Book Online Page B

sense of calm required, she thanked her lucky stars that she was not the one standing in his shoes.
    “I would like to thank you all for coming here this evening,” the duke finally said, his voice growing in strength as he spoke. “The title of duke is not one I had hoped to assume at such a young age, for it has come to me at a terrible cost. I miss my father every moment of every day, and can only hope that I may one day be as great a man as he was.
    “But life must go on, and I now have duties to attend to. It is for this reason that my mother and I have invited you all here this evening; to usher in a new era here at Kingsborough Hall as we commemorate my father—a man who will never be forgotten by any of us.” Raising his champagne flute, he then said, “To the sixth Duke of Kingsborough.”
    “To the sixth Duke of Kingsborough,” the crowd echoed his salute as they raised their glasses in unison.
    “That was pretty good,” Lord Huntley said as the music started back up and the chatter of the guests resumed, “for a man who doesn’t care for public speaking.”
    Isabella had to agree. In fact, she’d found the toast both heartfelt and moving, leaving her with no doubt that Kingsborough was well on his way to becoming a very fine duke indeed. His eyes had met hers right after he’d finished, and he’d stepped down from his vantage point on the steps with (she suspected) the intention of joining her. The duchess wasn’t likely to approve if he did, for although she’d been nice enough to Isabella, she’d been far from subtle in her suggestion that her son had other guests to see to as well.
    “As I was saying before,” Lady Huntley said, drawing Isabella’s attention toward her. “My brother seems quite taken with you.” She leaned closer to Isabella. “Tell me more about yourself, Miss Smith.”
    “I . . . er . . .”
    “She’s from Flemmington,” the duchess said, leaping to Isabella’s rescue. Why she would carry on what she knew to be a lie with her very own daughter went beyond Isabella’s realm of comprehension. She could only deduce that the duchess’s desire for discretion outweighed any thoughts she had of being honest.
    Lady Huntley frowned. “I don’t believe I’ve ever heard of it. Is it far?”
    “Very far,” the duchess replied before Isabella had a chance to, “though it is my understanding that there’s quite a grand lake there with ducks and such—lovely for boating.”
    “How charming,” Lady Huntley said. “We shall have to visit you sometime, shan’t we, Peter?”
    “I suppose we can try,” Lord Huntley said, his eyes shifting between the duchess and Isabella. There was no denying that he was not as easily convinced about Isabella’s place of residency as his wife was.
    “How delightful it is to see you again, Miss Smith!” The voice belonged to Mr. Goodard, who, Isabella discovered as she turned to her right, was standing directly beside her. “I was hoping you’d be willing to dance the next set with me.”
    “You’re very eager this evening,” Lady Huntley said as she stepped around Isabella to better face Mr. Goodard. “Your dance with Lady Georgina was particularly entertaining. I do hope that you enjoyed it.”
    “As a matter of fact, I did.” Mr. Goodard frowned while Lady Huntley’s eyes narrowed into two tiny slits. They stood like that, staring at each other for a moment in awkward silence until Mr. Goodard’s eyes suddenly widened and he stepped back, pointing an accusing finger at Lady Huntley. “It was your idea!”
    “I haven’t the slightest notion of what you mean,” the countess replied primly.
    “ You suggested the Hampstead move, didn’t you?”
    Lady Huntley shrugged. “Maybe.”
    “Aha! I knew it!” Mr. Goodard turned to Lord Huntley. “Do you have any idea how devious your wife can be?”
    “I’m beginning to have an inkling,” Lord Huntley murmured.
    “If you ask me, I’m quite impressed with her