Amelia looked as though she were prepared to throw herself at Lady Ponsonby in Hugh’s defense, but Christiana held up a hand. This was for her to address.
What would a duchess say?
She imagined Laura’s cold outrage at being treated with such a lack of deference, particularly in public, and she summoned her own frigid politeness.
“Yes, I expect I have heard everything of note,” she said, not bothering to curtsy. “Do tell me—I can’t recall—were you close to the former duchess?”
“We weregreatfriends,” Lady Ponsonby said. “Were we not, Charles?”
Sir Charles started, too occupied with watching a heavily painted woman in the distance. “What? Ah, yes. Very close, I’m sure.”
“I’m sure.” Christiana didn’t smile. “A pity you don’t hold her memory in higher regard, my lady.”
“Pardon me?”
Finally, Christiana glanced at Hugh, who was watching her with a slightly mystified expression in his eyes. “Oh, only I had assumed you could not have liked the duchess to have treated her son with such disregard, but I am mistaken, it seems. Come, darling.”
Hugh’s eyes flickered, the tension in them draining to something warmer, as he bent over her knuckles. “Your wish is my command, my love.”
The endearment thrilled her, as did the way Lady Ponsonby gaped.
“Oh, and Lady Ponsonby,” Christiana added, “let me put you in touch with my dressmaker. She isdivine, and she knows all the latest fashions.” She wiggled her fingers in the same dismissive gesture Lady Ponsonby had used and led Hugh and Amelia away.
Chapter Twenty-Six
Hugh watched Christianain wonder as she finally stopped, her chest rising and falling and her cheeks flushed a deep pink. In that gown, she looked like spring itself, and he wondered how anyone could ever look at her and think her unworthy of being a duchess.
She pushed her glasses up her nose. “Oh, heavens,” she said, giving a shaky laugh. “I think I need to sit down.”
He drew her close. “You do not need to run to my defense every time you hear someone speaking about me.”
“I most certainly do. The best way to conquer gossip is to give it something new to discuss. You cannot tell me the Ponsonbys are loved in these parts.” She released a long breath. “What an odious woman.”
“And you put her downmagnificently,” Amelia said, her eyes sparkling. Hugh had the vague thought that he ought not to encourage such opinions, but damn it all, she was right, and his wife had defended him.
Publicly.
He very much wished he could kiss her here and now.
If he did, he had the sneaking suspicion she would faint.
“Was I too rude?” Christiana asked. “I was trying not to be. At least, not overtly. But I confess subtlety has never been my strong suit.”
“You were perfect,” Hugh said.
“I quite agree,” a familiar voice said. Hugh turned to see a lady whom he had not seen since he had thrown her from the house seven years ago. His godmother and a lady his mother had cherished, she was one of his family’s greatest allies, and in one fatal morning, he had wrenched her from their lives. All because she had the audacity to care about him, offering motherly kindness and well wishes when he’d known for a fact nothing would ever be well again. He had been in so much pain, so much anger and regret, that he had been half mad with it. Out of his mind. Unable to regulate his temper. That had been the same time he had dismissed the servants, raging at the very world and everything that had reminded him of the past he could no longer have.
In the years since, he had contemplated apologizing, but it had been easier to cut himself off from the world and declare himself a recluse.
Until Christiana.
Until now, when Mrs. Barnaby extended her hand in welcome as though no time or ill will had passed at all.
Amelia’s face immediately wreathed in a huge smile. “Mrs. Barnaby! You’re here!”
“Of course I’m here, pet.” Mrs. Barnaby patted her hand. “George and I never miss a year.”
Amelia flung her arms around Mrs. Barnaby’s neck, and Hugh stood stiffly by, wondering how on earth to apologize when apologies would never be enough.