The Duke and the Accidental Bride (Duchesses of Convenience #5)

Chapter 6

Chapter Six

I t was the following day when Duncan found himself arriving at Greenfield Manor in London. A townhouse similar to that which Juliet lived in, but nowhere near as grand or opulent in design as that. It was far smaller, a little too close to the city, and without so much as a back garden or even a driveway leading to the front door.

Duncan had sent a letter to the Dowager Viscountess Langham yesterday, informing her of his intent to pay them a visit this morning. It was his assumption that Miss Gouldsmith had told her by now of their engagement plans, so it behooved Duncan to make his intentions known to her mother. As was proper.

However, when he arrived at their home at the hour he had instructed, he was surprised to find that there was nobody waiting to greet him. He sat in the carriage, annoyance building, eyeing the front door as he expected at least a butler to step outside.

Fifteen minutes of waiting and he realized this was folly.

“An auspicious beginning...” He muttered to himself as he approached the front door and knocked. And then waited. And then, after a few moments, knocked once more.

It was subtle but he could have sworn that inside he could hear a commotion of some sort... a wailing, perhaps? Screaming. He leaned in close to listen, brow scrunched tight, the noise inside building, only for the door to suddenly swing open.

“Your Grace!” It was the same elderly maid who had accompanied Miss Gouldsmith the previous week to Lord Langham’s home. “Our apologies! My mistress intended to greet you herself but has become distracted!” She was shouting the words in Duncan’s face, and for good reason.

The sounds coming from inside the manor were unlike any that Duncan had ever heard. It sounded like a woman screaming – but doing so because she was trying to be heard over another woman wailing as if in pain. Amongst that was shouting and yelling, stamping feet on wooden floorboards, and more screaming.

“Is this a bad time?” Duncan looked past the maid to see what on earth was going on.

“Not at all!” the maid assured him. She stepped to the side and waved him in. “Please, the viscountess is expecting you.”

Duncan hesitated before finally stepping over the threshold and inside. The door swung closed behind him, and the sounds of what were surely indicators that the world was about to end, grew even louder.

He was led down the hallway and into an open living space, the sounds growing louder the further in he walked. That was until they exploded upon him like a slap as he saw the source of the noise.

Not that he understood exactly what was going on.

“You cannot wear that dress!” a woman who could only be the viscountess shouted at her daughter, Miss Isabella Gouldsmith.

“I will wear what I wish!”

“Why can’t you be more like your sister!”

“Do not bring me into this!” the third woman, presumably the sister for she was a spitting image of Miss Gouldsmith, shouted.

“Will the three of you please keep it down!” There was a fourth woman, heavily pregnant, sitting on a couch and in tears. “All this shouting is bad for the baby!”

“Tell her that!” Miss Gouldsmith decreed, pointing an accusing finger at her mother.

“That dress! You will go up and change right now. Before the Duke arrives – think of your sister! This is her day! You will embarrass her!”

“I do not mind,” the sister said. “What do I care what Isabella wears?”

“See!”

“Please!” the pregnant woman wailed. “Peace and quiet! The baby! I cannot... I cannot... oh!”

I have wandered into the gates of Hell.

Duncan stood frozen in the doorway. Wide-eyed. Mouth hanging agape. Caught between announcing himself and fleeing the scene as if his life depended on it.

Before he was able to come to a decision, however, the dowager viscountess caught sight of him out of the corner of her eye. Her eyes then went wide, her mouth dropped open, she spun about quickly, and then did what she could to straighten up, to silence her daughters, and to appear as if Duncan had not just witnessed the beginnings of a war that had the potential to consume all of London.

“Your Grace!” she cried out. “My apologies! I did not realize the time!” She rushed toward him, patting down her gown, before offering a deep curtsey. “I had meant to wait for you outside.”

“It is quite alright...” He spoke carefully, eyes flicking about the scene; the pregnant woman was still sobbing loudly, the two sisters still standing back.

“And further apologies for what you just witnessed,” the viscountess continued. “One pregnant daughter and another more stubborn than a mule, and it makes for hostile viewing...” She attempted a nervous laugh. “But I assure you, this is far from the norm.”

Doubtful .

“I am certain that is the case.”

She smiled and offered another curtsey. “I was so glad to receive your letter yesterday evening, Your Grace. Truly, it is an honor for you to even consider my daughter as you are.” She spun about, facing her two daughters. “Louisa! Will you --” She widened her eyes at her daughter, Louisa. “Here, now girl.”

Louisa frowned at her mother. “Why me?”

“Why do you think!” The viscountess then turned back and smiled apologetically at Duncan. “It has been a bit of a rush this morning. We have hardly had time to prepare – not that we are not grateful, and eager. As I assure you, my daughter Louisa is very much.”

Duncan looked past the viscountess at her two daughters and immediately saw the look of triumph in Miss Gouldsmith’s eyes. They danced with victory and then she stood straight, hands behind her back, making sure that he took note of her dress...

The dress was highly inappropriate. The neckline was plunging, and the waist was so tightly cinched that her chest threatened to spill out. Even more scandalous than the previous one that she had worn, it was clearly chosen for a purpose. And it sent Duncan’s pulse racing.

“Forgive me, Lady Langham, but I believe there must be some sort of mistake...” He pulled his eyes from Miss Gouldsmith... and that dress! “It is not your daughter, Louisa who I wish to marry.”

The viscountess blinked. “Excuse me?”

Duncan groaned and rubbed his eyes, the frustration starting to build. “I had assumed – I was under the impression that your daughter might have by now explained to you the circumstance that has brought me here this morning.”

Still, the viscountess looked confused. “According to your letter, you wished to speak with me about my daughter. The implication, as I read it, was that you may be interested in courting her. A surprise, to be sure, but not an unwelcome one. And I think you will find that Louisa is --”

“Again, there is the mistake. It is not your daughter, Louisa to whom I was speaking of.” He caught Isabella’s eyes, and she flashed them at him; the delight only too clear. “It is your other daughter, Isabella who I was speaking of.”

The viscountess's mouth dropped. “Isabella? Are you certain?” She turned and looked at her daughter as if she could not believe it. “But... but... but how?”

“And it is not a courtship which I am interested in.” He made sure to be looking right at the viscountess so there could be no mistake. “I intend to marry her.”

“What?!” The viscountess spun around. “Isabella! Explain yourself!”

She shrugged. “I think His Grace did a rather fine job.”

“When were you planning on telling me this?”

Another shrug. “Now seemed like a good enough time.”

“Louisa! Did you know of this – you did!”

“It’s not my fault!”

“Don’t blame her!”

“The embarrassment you have both caused me!”

“Please!” the pregnant woman began to cry again. “Can you please -- the baby! Is it too much to ask for --”

“An engagement! How has this happened – and that dress!”

“I rather like it!”

“The baby! The baby!”

The three women shouted back and forth, devolving into a state of hysteria once more, leaving Duncan standing alone in a state of awkwardness that saw his temper rising, his frustration building, and the desire to double guess this entire circumstance settling on him in ways that were becoming harder and harder to ignore.

He managed to make eye contact with Miss Gouldsmith, to which she smirked proudly as if she was taking pleasure in the chaos that had been brought upon this household. Duncan tried to silence that smirk by hardening his glare, but this only seemed to encourage her.

Whatever this was, Duncan sensed it was far from over and that his marriage to Miss Gouldsmith was set to test him in ways that he could not even imagine.