Duke of Midnight (Maiden Lane #6)(67)
Author: Elizabeth Hoyt

Well, that was depressing.

“Miss Greaves!”

The hearty voice of the Duke of Scarborough made her turn around. He strolled toward her with Penelope on his arm. “Well met, well met indeed!”

“Your Grace.” Artemis sank into a curtsy.

“Whatever are you doing here, Artemis?” Penelope looked around eagerly. “Is Wakefield here as well?”

“Ah, no.” Artemis could feel guilty heat flooding her cheeks. “It’s just Phoebe and me.”

“Oh.” Penelope pouted, seemingly unaware that the elderly duke beside her had wilted a bit.

“Er, I was about to retrieve a dish of tea for Lady Penelope,” Scarborough said. “Would you like one as well?”

Artemis made sure to smile at the man. “That’s very kind of you, but I was going to get two dishes—one for me and one for Phoebe. I’m sure you can’t carry all that—”

“But of course I can.” Scarborough puffed out his chest. “Please wait here, ladies.”

And he was off as eagerly as a knight errant.

Penelope watched him go affectionately. “He really is the most charming gentleman. It’s just too bad…”

Artemis sighed. If only Penelope would see Scarborough as a worthy suitor. He seemed perfect for her cousin in every respect save age. If Penelope turned her sights on Scarborough, then maybe she wouldn’t be nearly so hurt when the inevitable happened and Artemis’s own liaison with Wakefield came to light. Of course that wouldn’t solve Artemis’s own problem—Maximus would just find another heiress of noble birth and sane family to wed.

She was pulled from her depressing thoughts by Penelope leaning forward as if in confidence. “I can’t think what the Duke of Wakefield has been about. No one seems to have seen him since his return to London. I know he has his silly parliamentarian duties, but the man must have social rounds to make as well.” Penelope bit her lip, looking vulnerable. “Do you think he’s lost interest in me? Perhaps I ought to do something daring again. I’ve heard Lady Fells rode in a horse race last week—astride.”

“No, darling,” Artemis said, her throat clogged with tears. She swallowed. She’d never forgive herself if she let Penelope think that she needed to break her neck racing a horse in order to win Maximus. “I’m sure he’s as interested as ever. It’s just that he’s so very busy.” She ventured a tremulous smile. “You must get used to that when you marry—his duties in Parliament and the like. He’ll often be away.” Oh, dear God, she loathed her own perfidy at the moment!

Penelope had brightened during this painful speech and now she beamed. “Well, that won’t be a chore—I’ll simply use his money to shop.” She placed her hand almost shyly on Artemis’s arm. “Thank you for telling me so. I don’t know what I would do without your advice.”

Her simple declaration nearly made Artemis’s knees buckle. How could she have wronged Penelope so terribly? In the bright sunshine it seemed an insurmountable sin: to have put her own wants before the girl who had offered her sanctuary when Artemis had been so desperate. No matter how silly Penelope sometimes acted, Artemis knew, deep down, that her cousin truly had a heart.

And it would break when she’d realized Artemis’s betrayal.

Artemis looked down at her hands, drawing a steadying breath. She very much feared that if she stayed with Maximus, this awful taint—this terribly wrong act—would, day by day, year by year, wear at her until she was no more than a ghost of her former self. She saw need when she looked into his eyes, but was there any love as well? Had she discarded Penelope’s friendship for a man who didn’t, in the end, truly care for her?

For she loved him, she realized now, in this brightly lit garden, of all places, with his future wife, her cousin, by her side. She loved Maximus totally and completely, with all of her bitter, broken heart, and she did not know if it was enough for the two of them.

Scarborough bustled up at that moment, his hands full of steaming dishes of tea. Artemis quickly took two cups and thanked the duke before turning away to bring the tea to Phoebe.

She was within sight of Phoebe when she was hailed again.

“I had not thought to see you again so very soon, Miss Greaves.”

Artemis turned at the voice, surprised to find Mrs. Jellett looking at her with interest.

“Erm, how nice to meet again,” Artemis replied, wondering if she was expected to curtsy even though she held a dish of tea in each hand. She glanced to the right where Phoebe was seated at an arbor waiting for Artemis’s return. Her friend had her face tilted up to catch the sunlight.

“You left Pelham House so precipitously,” Mrs. Jellett continued, linking arms with Artemis before she could defend herself. Artemis watched the full dish of milky tea hovering over the fine blond lace adorning Mrs. Jellett’s sleeve and hoped the lady wouldn’t hold her at fault if it soon became tea stained. “Just after Wakefield hurried back to London in fact. Such a pity! My dear friend Lady Noakes was quite put out at the early end to the house party. She has so little occasion to dine well. Not since Noakes lost most of her dowry. He was quite penniless before he married Charlotte. All his wealth came from her and now it’s gone.” Mrs. Jellett leaned close in confidence. “Gambling, you know. Such a terrible affliction.”

Artemis eyed the older woman warily. “I’m just taking this tea to Lady Phoebe if you’ll—”

“Oh, is Phoebe here, too?” cried Mrs. Jellett. She glanced in the direction in which Artemis had been walking and smiled.

Artemis did not like that smile.

“Well, we shouldn’t keep her waiting,” Mrs. Jellett announced, and Artemis found herself standing in front of Phoebe still linked with the other woman.

“I had no idea you’d be here, dear,” Mrs. Jellett said in an overly loud voice, rather as if Phoebe’s poor sight had affected her hearing as well.

“It’s a lovely day for a garden party, isn’t it?” Phoebe said.

“Here’s your tea,” Artemis said, carefully placing the cup into the girl’s hand. “I was just discussing your brother’s house party with Mrs. Jellett.”

Phoebe’s eyes cleared with the mention of Mrs. Jellett’s name and Artemis suspected that she hadn’t known who exactly had greeted her until just then. “Will you sit with us, ma’am?”