Stolen Encounters With The Duchess. Julia Justiss

recently ran into—almost literally—an old friend. Faith Wellingford—you would know her as the Duchess of Ashedon.’

      ‘The Duchess? I didn’t know you were acquainted!’

      ‘She’s a cousin of my sponsor’s wife. We developed a friendship many years ago, when I first began working as secretary to Sir Edward, and she was visiting her cousin. We grew to be close, though of course, there was never any question of a warmer relationship between us. I’ve only seen her a few times since her marriage, and we’ve grown apart. But upon meeting her again, I was struck by how...unhappy she is.’

      ‘Having been married to Ashedon, I’m not surprised,’ Maggie said bluntly.

      ‘She wanted to know what I’d been doing, so I told her a bit about the Reform Bill. We used to have quite spirited discussions of politics. She seemed so intrigued, I asked if she would like to attend one of your political dinners. She was quite enthused by the idea, so I said I would approach you to ask for an invitation.’

      ‘Of course I will include her, if you think she would enjoy it.’

      ‘She has a lively mind, which apparently doesn’t get much use during her usual society functions. I do believe she would enjoy the debate.’

      ‘I will send her a card, then. And you, of course.’

      ‘Thank you, Maggie. I’ll be very grateful.’

      Davie’s mind immediately moved to evaluating options for conveying the news to Faith. Should he send a note, asking her to meet him? Or just write, letting her know that an invitation from Maggie would be forthcoming?

      Meeting her, of course, would be his preference, but...

      ‘How long have you loved her?’ Maggie’s quiet voice interrupted his racing thoughts.

      Shocked, he jerked his gaze back, to find her regarding him, sympathy in her eyes. He considered for an instant returning a denial, but as she had just granted his rather odd request for help, there seemed little point in dissembling. ‘Since the moment I set eyes on her, I suppose,’ he admitted. ‘Is it so obvious?’

      ‘Probably not, unless one already suspected it.’ She smiled. ‘Leaving aside the fact that you seemed to be unusually concerned about the well-being of a lady who was merely a friend from long ago, your whole face lights up when you talk about her. There’s this intensity in your eyes, and an urgency in your words.’

      He sighed. ‘I’ve been avoiding going back to the committee room for that very reason, suspecting I might not be able to hide that I’d seen her again. I’ll tell Giles privately, but the last thing I want is for Ben or Christopher to find out. They’ve harassed me enough over the years about my obsession with the “Unattainable One”.’

      ‘They all know about her?’

      ‘At some point, I had to explain why I was always turning Ben and Christopher down when they wanted to go carousing, or when Christopher offered to have his current lady find a friend for me.’

      She nodded. ‘Better to remain alone, than be disappointed in yourself and your partner, when she can’t compare to your lady.’

      ‘Exactly!’ he cried, surprised and gratified to discover someone who understood. ‘No one else can compare. Coming upon her again unexpectedly, the difference was...shocking. As if I’d been living in a grey world under cloudy skies, and suddenly, the sun came out, painting everything with vivid colour. Not that I’ve found my life dull or purposeless up till now, I assure you. But she just makes things...different. More beautiful.’

      ‘I know. I lived in just such a dull world—before I found Giles to illumine it.’

      He gave a rueful sigh. ‘Ben and Christopher keep insisting that if I really wanted to, I could forget her and turn my attention to someone more suitable. But just because one knows one can’t have something, that doesn’t mean one can make oneself stop wanting it.’

      ‘I know. I am sorry.’

      ‘Don’t be. Loving her is an old ache, and I’ve known from the beginning that nothing could ever come from it. A penniless farmer’s orphan does not marry the well-dowered daughter of a family whose ancestors came over with the Conquest.’

      ‘And why should the daughter of an ancient family be valued any higher than a commoner who, by his own efforts, has risen to a position of power?’

      He smiled at her. ‘That sounds like Lord Grey and the Friends of the People. Has Giles been converting you?’

      ‘I should hope I always appreciate individuals for what they themselves accomplish, not for their pedigree. However, you...you do not intend to attempt more than rekindling a friendship, do you?’

      He didn’t pretend not to understand her. ‘No. I wouldn’t tarnish her honour—or mine—by attempting an affair. Goodness knows, nothing more is possible.’

      She sighed. ‘It makes me sound a terrible snob, after just stating how much I value you—and I do, you are worth ten of her wretched Duke!—I have to agree. Hadley’s Hellions are doing their best to make the world a more equitable place, but we are nowhere close to being a society that would react to a duchess’s remarriage to a commoner with anything but shock and derision. Not so much for you, of course. But for her... I never had any desire to move in the late Duke’s circle, but like most of society, I heard enough of his exploits—and the falsely sweet “sympathy” expressed for his “poor little Duchess”. She’s suffered enough. I’d not be a party to anything that would bring more scorn upon her, or result in her permanent banishment from society.’

      ‘I assure you, all I wish is to offer her is the chance to meet other individuals from her own rank, whose company she may find more interesting and fulfilling than the endless rounds of idle society parties she told me she’s come to hate.’

      ‘With all the snide remarks her husband’s infidelities must have forced her to endure, I can understand why she detests them. Just promise me you won’t complicate her situation. She has already had enough to bear, married to Ashedon all those years.’

      ‘That’s an easy promise to give. I want to lighten her burden, not make it heavier.’

      ‘In that case, I shall be delighted to include her in the dinner I’m planning for next Friday. Giles and Papa are assembling some men of less radical views, with the hope of building a moderate coalition that will see the Reform Bill passed more swiftly. I’ll send her a card. And one to you as well.’

      ‘Thank you, Maggie. I very much appreciate it. I think you’ll like the Duchess, and I know she will enjoy your gathering.’

      ‘I hope you will as well.’ She looked at him, her face troubled. ‘You did me a very good turn once, bringing me back to the man I loved. I only wish I could conjure a magic spell, so I might create as favourable a result for you.’

      ‘Helping Faith is the best thing you can do for me.’

      ‘I’ll do all I can.’ She walked him to the door, halting on the threshold to give him a kiss on the cheek. ‘Have a care for yourself, too, Davie. As I know only too well, hearts can break more than once.’

      ‘But only once for the same person,’ he replied, and walked out.

      He certainly hoped so, anyway.

      * * *

      In the afternoon two days later, having received a note from Davie informing her that Lady Lyndlington would be sending her a card of invitation for a dinner the following Friday, Faith ordered a hackney and went to pay a call on her erstwhile hostess. She’d suffered the expected dressing-down from the Dowager over her dinner-party flight—and her absence from the obligatory drive in the Park the next day—in a silence meek enough not to call down more criticism on her head. She felt safe enough attempting this errand; as Davie had said, even the high-in-the-instep Dowager couldn’t fault her calling on the daughter of a marquess.

      Knowing