Chapter 3

Three

C onstantine touched the tips of her fingers to her tender lips as she lifted a silent prayer. Please, God, keep my secret safe. Auntie would have an apoplexy if Constantine ruined herself. And she most certainly would be ruined, if the Duchess and Lady Celia saw her kissing Lord Gulliver.

She might even be forced to marry him. Her stomach knotted at the thought. Not at the idea ofbecoming his wife, but the thought of becoming any high ranking peers wife.

She would never make a proper wife to a man who moved within society. She lacked the necessary skills and polish, and seemed utterly incapable of learning them.

No. Constantine could never marry a man like Lord Gulliver. She required a country baron or local squire. A man who would not expect her to follow all of societies stifling and often nonsensical rules.

She needed a man that would not require her to host lavish parties and such, but that would be pleased with her household management and child-rearing skills instead. Assuming she possessed the latter.

Her Grace, the Duchess of Selkirk, waved, and Constantine waved back. There was little use in fretting and even less in avoiding the other ladies. She would join them and hope against hope that they had not seen what she'd been doing moments before.

Constantine offered a slight curtsey and smile as she joined the ladies.

"I could not help but notice Lord Gulliver standing with you," Lady Celia said.

Constantine cringed inwardly.

"I must warn you to guard yourself against that rogue's charm," Lady Celia continued in a matter-of-fact tone. "He's a dear friend of the family, so I'll not speak ill of him, but be mindful all the same."

Constantine bobbed her head in acknowledgment. "I will."

The Duchess of Selkirk gave a warm smile, then said, "Do, join us for our walk."

Constantine returned the smile, then said, "I'd be honored, Your Grace."

The Duchess began strolling, Lady Celia at her left and Constantine to her right. She brushed an auburn curl from her cheek. "We are all friends here, Lady Constantine. Please call me, Julia."

"And me, Celia," Lady Celia added, her tone cheerful.

Constantine relaxed as the warm spring air brushed against her face. "I shall be honored to do so, but you must call me Constantine in return."

Constantine had met Julia and Celia a fortnight ago while attending a ball. In her usual fashion, Constantine had broken a rule—one of the many she broke as a result of not knowing it was a rule.

The Duchess and Lady Celia had been nearby and offered their support. Though their doing so did nothing to silence the gossip that ensued, nonetheless, Constantine had been grateful to them.

She would be happy to call both women her friend and was pleased to have been invited to Huntington Park.

She glanced at Julia. "I must thank you for inviting my aunt and me to your home."

Julia waved a dismissive hand. "Think nothing of it. It was done for my ownselfish reason, as I wish to know you better."

"Me?" Constantine's eyes widened a fraction. Nobody ever took an interest in her. Not unless they were gossiping or laughing over her most recent faux pas . It was the very reason she'd determined not to give a fig this season.

Now, here she was at the country estate of a Duke and Duchess of Selkirk! And the Duchess wanted to be her friend. Perhaps good fortune did favor the bold.

"I see no other." Julia smiled. "And I must confess, I find you most interesting."

"I'm afraid nothing is interesting about me." Constantine shook her head.

"But of coursethere is," Celia interjected.

Julia stepped closer to Constantine and turned her head slightly toward her. "Did you know that I am of low birth?"

Constantine missed a step as she jerked her head toward Julia in surprise. "I did not."

"It's true," Celia said, "My brother hired her to be my companion." She grinned with mischief. "Then he made her his duchess."

"How very romantic," Constantine said.

"Isn't it, though?" Celia asked, her palm pressed to her chest.

Constantine nodded in agreement.

"Before I came to be Celia's companion, I lived in a small cottage in Kent. My father had run off, and my mother was gravely ill. We were so poor we couldn't keep a fire going, let alone buy food."

"How did you meet the duke?" Constantine asked, her curiosity overflowing.

Celia turned anticipation filled eyes on Julia. "I am most curious about that."

"And you are still too young to hear that story," Julia said. "Besides, I would much rather know more about our new friend." She reached for Constantine's hand and gave a light squeeze. "I know you are under your aunt's sponsorship and that your father is the Earl of Dartford, and that it is your second season, but nothing else. Tell us where you have been hiding and why?"

"I'd not exactly call it hiding. Not on my part,leastwise." Constantine released a wistful sigh. "Though I doprefer Carlisle to London."

Celia clasped her hands together. "Oh! You're from Cumbria. It's such a beautiful part of England."

"You've been?" Constantine asked.

Celia's lips turned up. "Many times. My brother has an estate there. Not the Ducal estate, mind you, but a mansion left to him by our mother." She turned thoughtful. "It's not so very far from Carlisle. Perhaps an hour by carriage. We shall have to invite you round for tea when we next venture that way."

"I would like that very much," Constantine said.

Julia gave her a gentle nudge with her elbow. "And I should very much like to know why we have only recently made your acquaintance. Of course, we saw you around last season, but where were you before that?"

Celia tipped her face toward the sun's rays and squinted. "Rumor has it you are four and twenty. Were you late having your come out?"

"Something like that." Constantine sighed. "In all honesty, I never desired one."

Celia turned her attention to Constantine. "Why ever not?" She asked, her tone aghast, as they began strolling back toward the monumental country house.

Constantine let her gaze roam over the manicured grounds dotted with flower beds and mature trees as she answered, "I am out of place in London. My father took me to Carlisle when I was a girl of seven. I spent all of my life in the country without the benefit of finishing school or a proper governess."

She let her eyes flutter closed for a moment, allowing the spring air to comfort her. "When my father decided it was high time for me to have an introduction to society, he enlisted my aunt to sponsor me." She slid a sideways glance toward Julia. "And so, here I am."

"And what of your mother?" Julia asked.

Constantine swallowed past the lump forming in her throat. She hoped that the Duchess's interest was genuine, then felt terrible for thinking as much. Constantine didn't take her for the spiteful sort. It had been unfair of her to consider it.

She notched her chin and gave a little grin. These women were her friends, she could share with them. "My mother passed away from a fever. Father was beside himself… still is, in many ways. His grief is so deep that he has kept himself, and I by proxy, sequestered away in the country."

"How tragic." Celia's brow furrowed with concern.

"I hope you will forgive me for prying. I know it is most frowned upon, but I felt drawn to you and now I know why." Julia gave a warm smile that lit her green eyes. "We will be the best of friends. You'll see."

Celia nodded toward the house. "There's Mother. Let us introduce you," she said, hooking her arm through Constantine's.

A smile pulled at Constantine's lips when she took notice of Lord Gulliver standing beside the older woman. Mercy, her cheeks flamed.

Celia drew Constantine to a halt before the elegant woman. She was advanced in age, but beautiful with bright sapphire eyes and blond hair, the strands shot through with silver. Celia clearlytook after her mother and was lucky for it.

Celia stepped forward. "Mother, may I introduce you to Lady Constantine Hartley?"

The older woman smiled. "Please do."

Celia turned to Constantine. "Lady Constantine, it is my pleasure to introduce you to my mother, the Dowager Duchess of Selkirk."

Constantine dipped into a deep curtsey. "Your Grace, it is an honor."

The Dowager Duchess took Constantine's hand and urged her to stand tall. "Any friend of my daughter's is a friend of mine." She turned to Lord Gulliver. "Have you been introduced?"

His gaze seemed to heat as he met Constantine's and offered a bow. "Indeed." He gave a rakish half-grin. "And let me say you are as lovely as ever, Lady Constantine."

She warmed everywhere as she tried to look away but found herself powerless to do so.

Much to her relief, he turned his attention to her companions. "You are all breathtaking in your lovliness."

"You are a shameless flirt," the Dowager Duchess admonished. "Now, off with you." She swatted him playfully with her silk and ivory hand fan.

Lord Gulliver chuckled. "Very well," his gaze locked with Constantine's, "but I shall look forward to basking in your beauty when we next meet."

With a wink, he turned and strolled away, leaving her a bitbreathless. She shuttered her eyes, willing her cheeks to cool.

The dowager shook her head as if she were frustrated, though she grinned like a schoolgirl. "Watch out for that one, Lady Constantine. He's not the marrying sort," she warned.

"Though he does wonders for a girl's self-esteem." Celia beamed at her mother.

"And he is a gentleman," Julia added.

The dowager turned toward his retreating form. "All very true indeed, but he is still not one to lose his heart. Any girl who sets her cap for him will find herself sorely disappointed."

"Perhaps…," Julia said, her voice trailing off as she turned to watch him go. "Though one might argue that the lady who brings him to the altar will be exceedingly pleased.. Her eyes crinkled at the corner as she grinned. "They do say that rogues make the best husbands."

"Hush," The Dowager Duchess waved her fan, "you'll give our Celia ideas."

The warnings should alarm Constantine. The very idea of a man such as Lord Gulliver should repel her. Yet, shewasn't dissuadedby anything the ladies had said. In fact, theirstatements reassured her.

She needn't fret over Lord Gulliver's intentions. He was not the marrying type, and neither was she.

Not where the lords of London were concerned at any rate.

And all of this… it meant she could enjoy Lord Gulliver's company without worry, and she intended to do that very thing.