Free Susan Johnson by When Someone Loves You

heard your mother. The subject is closed. I think it’s time for port.” The duke nodded at a footman as he came to his feet. “We’ll have tea and port in the drawing room.” He moved down the table to his wife, Elspeth, who looked radiant in aquamarine tissue silk, her beauty undiminished at fifty-four.
    While older, the duke was still fit and handsome, although his dark hair had grayed at the temples.
    Perhaps their love kept them youthful. Their marriage was filled with joy, their affection for each other deep and abiding.
    Taking Elspeth’s hand, the duke helped her to her feet, then turned to his children and deliberately shifted the conversation back to racing. “Why don’t we make our day at the track tomorrow a little more interesting. What say I give five-to-one odds on my black? Although he’s going to win, so perhaps there aren’t any takers.”
    “I don’t know about that, Papa,” Lydia quickly retorted. “My bay has a good chance of winning. He came in only seconds behind your black during the practice run this morning.”
    “Not to mention Lord Greyson’s ringer from the North is running tomorrow,” Giles noted, rising from his chair. “Your black may not win.”
    The duke’s gaze narrowed. “How do you know it’s a ringer?”
    “So gossips attest. Or more to the point, a reliable bookmaker said as much.”
    The duke softly swore, then quirked his mouth in a faint smile. “We’ll have to find out the truth before the race tomorrow, now won’t we?”
    “Excellent idea, darling,” Elspeth said. “You know how I hate to lose.”
    Over port and very little tea, the next day’s race card was dissected and discussed, everyone placing their bets on the morrow’s race as was their habit.
    It was late when Duff finally rose from his chair and bid his family good night.
    Had he stayed to listen at the door he would have heard his family’s consensus strongly favoring his new friendship with Miss Foster. Everyone agreed she was the best thing that had happened to him since his return from Waterloo. His family agreed as well that should events progress sufficiently, Miss Foster should indeed be invited to dinner.
    “But I shall do the inviting,” the duchess stated firmly. “And you are ordered to behave, Giles. We want nothing to disturb your brother’s improved situation.”
    “I was only teasing, Mama,” Giles protested.
    “Your mother is aware of both your susceptibility to beautiful women and Miss Foster’s splendid good looks, however,” the duke noted. “Miss Foster can be very dazzling, so mind your manners.”
    “Dazzling?” The duchess sent an amused look her husband’s way. “Do you mean to say you’ve noticed?”
    “I only have eyes for you, darling,” he replied with a grin. “That does not mean, however, that I’m blind.”
    “I understand, sweetheart,” the duchess noted gently. “We all agree that Miss Foster is a diamond of the first water. Now if only she will be kind to our dear Duff.”
     
     
    The issue of kindness to the marquis was hardly under debate at the Foster cottage that evening. Annabelle’s mother and Molly were loud and persistent in their praise of the marquis. And while Annabelle was perhaps a tad less enthusiastic in her response, she had to agree in principle that Duff was indeed charming.
    And, she decided, it wouldn’t be a question so much of being pleasant to him, but rather of taking care not to be too pleasant.
    “By all means you must go to the races tomorrow with that nice young man,” her mother insisted. “Molly and I can care for Cricket very well without you.”
    “Mama, please don’t read anything more than casual friendship in Darley’s interest,” Annabelle warned, not wishing her mother to harbor false hopes about their relationship. “You know as well as I that nobles keep to their own kind. We are well below his station.”
    “It doesn’t hurt to enjoy yourself at the races,” Mrs. Foster retorted.