Free Lady Adventuress 01 - His Wayward Duchess by Daphne du Bois Page B

and unexpected gravity. His life had been so removed and different from hers that she had already been half in love with him because of that.
    It might have been fate, or just a very lucky turn that led her into the village that day. She had made a habit of her daily gambols in that direction, because it was the only entertainment to be had away from the house.
    But that morning was to present her with an entirely unexpected treat.
    A lady in her early sixties stood in the middle of the path that led down past the vicarage and towards the village. She looked greatly perplexed by all the mud.
    She looked up at Holly’s approach and regarded he r out of very amused blue eyes.
    The lady was dressed in the most marvellous ensemble Holly had ever seen, though she had always been an ardent peruser of her mother’s fashion plates.
    Holly had had no idea so glamorous a creature could even exist in the dreary emptiness of Gloucestershire. Surely she was just an illusion: or had she been swept in from Paris or London on some sort of magical breeze?
    Her hat alone was nothing less than a dashing work of art. Holly was still lost in admiration of the lady’s daringly floral satin bonnet when the lady issued a friendly greeting.
    “Good morning. Deplorable, isn’t it? It’s been nothing but mud all the way from my front door, but this is the absolute worst of it, I declare. My maid will give notice when she sees the state of my gown. I think I have taken up the whole path, too. I must apologise – but I find I am rather lost. Would you be so kind as to direct me to Woodley Court?”
    Woodley Court had recently been let, Holly remembered. Not long after she had come to Pontridge. The vicar’s wife had been all aflutter about no less than two new arrivals in the space of as many weeks.
    But she had never imagined it could have been taken by anyone this interesting.
    “C ertainly,” said Holly, with her friendliest smile. “If you prefer, I should be glad to show you it myself – it is not very far out of my way.”
    “I should be most grateful. But are you not on your way to the village?”
    “It’s nothing, I assure you. I was merely walking.”
    “Then you are a brave and hardy soul. I am Lady Louisa Somerville.” The lady paused to give Holly a considering look.
    The name was oddly familiar.
    Then it dawned on her. Even an isolated country squire’s daughter like herself had heard of the scandalous and scandalously wealthy Lady Louisa. The infamous woman was the daughter of an earl and his beautiful, shocking wife, who had formerly been a fine London actress.
    Even now that she was well off the marriage mart, L ady Louisa was known for her rebellious streak and her absolute refusal to play by the rules – a liberty she was allowed because of her astonishing wealth.
    Holly knew that Lady Louisa had been a member of the Devonshire Set in her youth and there was a popular rumour that she was one of the illustrious former amours of Prince George. Holly remembered reading that Lady Louisa had even presented him with a miniature of herself draped in lace and wearing nothing more than carmine rouge. The miniature was apparently much treasured by the Prince.
    Holly was not at all sure she credited the story with much truth , for no lady of blood and breeding could ever be so fast as that, but she still knew that Lady Louisa was not a suitable connection for a young duchess of good repute.
    Which was why she would be the perfect connection to cultivate. There could be no one more removed from the tiresome circle of gentlewomen to be found at Pontridge Brook.
    Holly wondered how the lady had managed to keep her beauty so very well. No one was entirely certain of the exact date of Lady Louisa’s birth for not a single one of her confidantes or paramours had ever been privy to this great secret.
    The other woman was watching Holly with obvious amusement, clearly waiting for some polite excuse with which the duchess would take her