How To Distract a Duchess Read Online Free PDF Page A

tucked the hanky back into her cuff. “You have a title to shelter behind. But how shall your poor sisters hope to find suitable husbands if your behavior causes us to be shunned by Polite Society.”
    “Rest easy. We shall not be shunned. I received word yesterday that the Queen and Prince Albert plan to attend your ball,” Artemisia said. Young Queen Victoria had found such rapture in marriage to her somber German cousin; she heartily approved of love in general and was charmed by the idea of a masked affair. “The Russian ambassador has sent his acceptance as well. Once word slips out that the royals are coming, the rest of the ton will batter down the doors like a herd of stampeding elephants.”  
    “Surely th-they’ll have better costumes th-than that,” Florinda said with an innocent stammer.
    “Eat your breakfast, girl,” Constance said, fanning herself in her excitement. “Remember what I told you about speaking out of turn. In fact, it’s best if you don’t speak at all, Florinda, darling. Men don’t like women who push themselves forward.”
    She cast a reproving eye once more at Artemisia, then seemed to remember that her daughter’s title was probably responsible for this glorious coup. “Just think! The Queen and the Prince here in my—I mean, your—home. Oh, we have so much to do.” Constance pushed back from the table, pulled a slip of paper from her bodice, and handed it to Artemisia. “Here are the names of potential suitors for your sisters. They both seem to be eligible and come from the finest of families, but do have your Mr. Beddington do some investigating, would you, dear?”
    Artemisia frowned at the list. “Lord Shrewsbury? The snubbing Lady Shrewsbury’s son?”
    “He’d do quite well for our Delia. From what I’ve heard, the viscount has had a run of bad luck at the whist tables of late and is sorely in need of funds.” Constance smiled with feline satisfaction. ”Let’s see her Ladyship snub me with the Queen looking on.”
    “And the Honorable Trevelyn Deveridge,” Artemisia read. “A second son?”
    “The second son of the Earl of Warre. He should do nicely for the third daughter of Angus Dalrymple,” Constance said with a trace of annoyance. “I needn’t remind you how influential Lord Warre is in the House of Lords. Even without a title, Trevelyn Deveridge will one day be a man of importance. And his older brother has only managed to sire a string of daughters. Once the earl passes, Trevelyn Deveridge will be only one heartbeat from an earldom.”
    “Mother, you’re talking about a man’s life,” Artemisia said, tight-lipped with irritation. Constance Dalrymple’s stalking of the aristocracy was as bloody-minded as her father’s beaters before a tiger hunt.
    “Have I said anything untrue?” Constance said with a roll of her eyes. “I’m merely being practical.”
    Cuthbert arrived with her breakfast in time to save Artemisia from making a reply she might later regret. “Mr. Shipwash has arrived, madam. He awaits your pleasure in the study.”
    “Mr. Shipwash, Mr. Shipwash. Always he sends an underling. Why on earth do we never see Mr. Beddington himself?” Constance demanded. “I don’t care how astute the man is. Surely attending the Duchess of Southwycke is not beneath him.”
    “I believe the Valiant has docked,” Artemisia said.   “Perhaps he’s seeing to the disposition of the tea shipment we’ve been expecting.”
    “Still...” Constance frowned, then pointed to the paper with the names on them. “Do be good enough to remember my request to him, won’t you, dear?”
    Despite her growling belly, Artemisia excused herself and left her mother and sisters to stew over their costumes for the coming fete. Once she stepped into the hall, Cuthbert appeared at her elbow.
    “Madam, before you begin with Mr. Shipwash, perhaps you would do well to see the other fellow who is waiting,” Cuthbert said softly.
    “Another