Lady Bridget's Diary (Keeping Up with the Cavendishes #1)(41)

“I honestly do not know anything. I didn’t see her,” Rupert said. “How is Lady Bridget handling it?”

“She is fine. We spent a few hours looking for you both.”

“Did you now?” Rupert asked, that familiar, teasing glint in his eye. “You. And Lady Bridget. Alone. How was it?”

Wonderful. Horrible. Full of angst, lust, and . . .

fun. Yes, that was the word he was looking for. Even when she was driving him mad with her curious notions of chivalry or ridiculous image of him in a dress, he had . . . fun. And it was wrong to feel thusly when beloved family members were in trouble. And when there were estate matters to attend to and he hadn’t yet solved all the problems in the world. It was wrong, all of it.

“It was fine.”

“She doesn’t like you, I’m afraid,” Rupert said. “Did you know she calls you Dreadful Darcy in her diary?”

“Yes, actually.”

“You don’t find that funny?”

“I’m not known for my sense of humor.”

“Anyone would find it funny. Unless . . .” Rupert’s eyes widened. “Unless it hurts your feelings. Because you like her.”

“Don’t be ridiculous.”

Rupert just grinned. As if he didn’t have massive, life--ruining problems to deal with. Darcy was glad to see his brother have a reason to smile. But he was vastly relieved when Danvers, the butler, interrupted.

“My Lord, this was left in the carriage.”

It was Amelia’s London guidebook, presented on a silver tray. He took one look at it and knew how he would spend the rest of the day and evening and it would not be discussing his feelings regarding Lady Bridget with anyone, least of all Rupert. Who planned to marry her.

I daresay everyone is gossiping about the inconceivable sight of Darcy and myself out for a pleasant outing in the park today. As long as they are not gossiping about Amelia. Who has still not returned!

To say we are worried about her is a vast understatement of epic proportions.

Lady Bridget’s Diary

In a drawing room across town, Lady Francesca closed the drawing room door and turned to her guests.

Miss Mulberry and Miss Montague were pouring tea and eating cakes and chattering away as if they had no idea of the gravity of the situation. No idea that her world was collapsing.

“I have a dire situation,” Lady Francesca said, taking a seat and commanding the attention of her guests, er, friends. They immediately gave her their attention.

“Were you ruined?” Miss Mulberry asked breathlessly.

“Don’t be silly. I would never allow that to happen,” she scoffed at her friend’s stupid idea. Unless it wasn’t a stupid idea at all, and she made it happen. Being caught in a compromising position was the swiftest way to the altar, especially when caught with a man as upstanding and honorable as Darcy. She tucked the idea away in the back of her mind.

“Is it your hair?” Miss Montague asked, concerned.

“What’s wrong with my hair?” Francesca’s hand flew up to gently touch the elegant coiffure her maid had done. It was a new style, the very latest from the French magazines.

“Nothing,” both girls chimed quickly.

Francesca scowled, then remembered how that caused wrinkles, and immediately composed herself.

“It’s Darcy.”

“Oh, did he propose?”

Dear Lord, please save her from her silly little friends.

“Would that really be a dire situation?” She ground her teeth. “It is Darcy. And he has not proposed. And he seems to have taken a liking to . . . Lady Bridget.”

Both girls made appropriate faces of shock, horror, and disapproval.

“First he asked her to waltz.”

“You waltz with people all the time,” Miss Montague pointed out.

“Yes, but Darcy doesn’t.”

“Oh, right.”

“Then he took her to Rotten Row where -anyone—-no, everyone—-would see them.”

Both girls ooohed appropriately. Then Miss Mulberry said, “Wait, what does this mean?”

“It means we have to do something drastic to make him forget any ridiculous ideas or feelings he might have for Lady Bridget. And then I must get him to propose.”

“How are we going to do that?”

“I don’t know,” Lady Francesca admitted. “But when I do have an idea, I vow I will act swiftly.”





Chapter 15


Returned sisters: 1

Relieved family members: 4

Explanations of where she has been: 0

Times spent reliving kiss with Darcy: 247

Lady Bridget’s Diary

There were five ladies gathered in the blue drawing room. Claire sat on a chair, reading some mathematical paper whilst sipping tea. Amelia lay on the settee, staring glumly at the ceiling and tormenting them all with her silence. Bridget wrote in her diary. Miss Green embroidered, and the duchess pored over the gossip columns in at least six different newspapers to determine whether Amelia’s escape had been reported.

“The Morning Post reported on your absence at the ball, Amelia,” Josephine said, frowning, holding a copy of the paper. They had to abruptly cancel their appearance at a ball last night, due to Amelia’s absence. They put it about that she had been gravely ill, in her bed, at home. “And The London Weekly is hinting at an exposé,” Josephine said. “I shudder to think what their gossip columnist has dug up. She is ruthless.”