My American Duchess Read Online Free PDF

able to join us tonight,” Lady Portmeadow said with a pinched smile. “It’s at times like these that I miss your dear mother.”
    Trent had no idea what she was talking about. He took another sandwich. They were small, but surprisingly good.
    “How have you been, Lady Portmeadow?” he asked.
    “The same, the same. My daughter Edwina is . . . oh, you likely know that. After all, you’ve come to her coming-out ball.”
    Trent frowned, confused. Wasn’t this ball in honor of the new hospital that his brother had championed?
    “I saw no reason to go to the expense of two balls,” Lady Portmeadow explained. “Edwina is making her debut this evening, which is fitting, as your mother was her godmother.”
    Trent bowed slightly.
    “I shall take you to Edwina,” Lady Portmeadow said,taking his arm and drawing him back to the ballroom. And away from the sandwiches, Trent couldn’t help noticing. “She has changed a great deal since you knew her as a child. I am happy to report that those unfortunate freckles have disappeared.”
    “I am certain she is most lovely,” Trent murmured. He remembered Edwina without enthusiasm. She had been about as interesting as a bread pudding.
    In fairness, she had been only ten years old at the time.
    “Your brother told me that you have been very busy with the House of Lords since the season began,” Lady Portmeadow said, as they crossed the entry, heading toward the ballroom. “Have you seen Lord Cedric tonight? He must have told you his happy news.”
    “He has.” Trent nodded to an acquaintance.
    Lady Portmeadow lowered her voice. “I am so pleased for him. You must know, of course, how much your mother worried. I’ve thought of her a hundred times in the last few years, watching the two of you grow to be men. Younger sons frequently pose problems. It’s such a burden for a man to grow up without an inheritance.”
    Trent kept his mouth shut. The fact Cedric had gambled away an estate was thankfully not common knowledge.
    “There are some unfortunate aspects to his proposed marriage,” Lady Portmeadow whispered. “Prudence dictated that your brother chose from a limited selection.”
    Hell. Cedric must have found an heiress with buck teeth or a squint.
    Trent tried to feel sorry for him, but he couldn’t keep his mind on it.
    He kept thinking about his American. Not a few English maidens would consider themselves compromised merely for having conducted a long conversation with a man on a shadowy balcony. But his American had no interest inthe sophisticated games that members of English society amused themselves with.
    She had walked straight up to him and touched his arm—but not because he was a duke. She hadn’t the faintest idea who he was. In fact, he had the distinct impression that if she had known he was titled, she would have marched off in the opposite direction.
    Trent grinned to himself, looking forward to the moment when he was introduced, title and all.
    “Now where could my daughter be?” Lady Portmeadow asked, pausing at the entrance to the ballroom and holding on to Trent’s arm with a grip that suggested she thought Edwina would make a fine duchess. “Ah, there she is, dancing with Viscount Bern.”
    Trent seized his moment. “I shall be delighted to dance with Miss Portmeadow later this evening. But meanwhile, I wonder if I might request a favor?”
    “Certainly, Your Grace.”
    “I would be most happy to be introduced to a young lady whom I glimpsed in the ballroom.”
    “Certainly,” her ladyship repeated less readily, reluctance warring with curiosity.
    Trent guessed that motherly instinct told her to secure a duke as her son-in-law, but that she would love to be the hostess who had introduced one of the most eligible, yet elusive bachelors on the market to his future duchess. Just imagine the story she could weave about the moment they met.
    He gave a mental shrug and looked around the crowded room for his American. He found her within