The Disappearing Duchess by Anne Herries

Justin’s gentleness and the tenderness of his kiss had made her feel such sweet longings she had felt she could overcome her bad memories and accept Justin’s loving.
    ‘Then I shall do my best to be the wife you want, Avonlea,’ she said and raised her head proudly. ‘I shall give Mrs Mann instructions to prepare for guests. How many do you wish to invite?’
    ‘I think we must invite everyone who attended our wedding. It is only fair to give them the reception they were cheated of then—do you not think so?’
    ‘Yes, perhaps.’
    Lucinda held back the emotion that was building inside her. She still had the guest list she had used for their wedding. Most of those invited were Avonlea’s friends, some of whom she’d never met. It would be embarrassing to face them all at such a glittering occasion, but it must be done. She owed her husband this and more besides.
    If he had taken her into his arms and kissed her, she could have borne it all so much easier. Indeed, she might have shed tears and confessed her secret had he been the gentle considerate man she’d fallen in love with, but he was a stranger, a man she did not recognise.
    ‘I shall do whatever you wish, Avonlea.’
    ‘I’m glad to hear that, Lucinda. Now, please go and change your gown. You look like a hoyden. Remember that you are a duchess now and try to behave in an appropriate manner.’
    How his words stung her! Was he being deliberately cruel or did he not understand that she would have found it difficult enough to carry off her new social standing even if he had been loving and kind? As it was she felt alone and isolated.
    Escaping to her rooms, she shut the door and stood with her back against it, fighting the tears. The burden of her secret was hard enough to bear, but Avonlea’s remote manner made it so much worse.
    She brushed the tears from her eyes, refusing to break down as she had in the woods earlier. Her husband had told her to behave like a duchess and she would find the strength to do it somehow.
    * * *
    Justin looked at his reflection in the dressing mirror and swore. He was such a fool. Why must he be angry again? Why could he not have given Lucinda the gift he’d purchased for her, kissed her and told her he cared deeply for her—that he wanted to make her happy? It was what he’d planned, but the sight of her with her hair tussled and her gown creased had alerted his suspicions. She looked as if she might just have come from the arms of a lover.
    Her mention of Lord Lanchester had made him so angry—and jealous. Jealousy was an ugly emotion and one he did not like in himself. He had not realised that he could experience the emotion so sharply and his reaction to it was primeval and savage, not at all the behaviour of the gentleman he prided himself on being.
    A gentleman was reasonable at all times, courteous to those around him and most of all, honourable. It was not honourable to feel as if he would like to murder his best friend.
    Shaking his head, he felt his mouth curve in a wry smile. He must learn to curb his temper or he might not be answerable for his actions.

Chapter Four
    ‘T hat is a pretty gown, Lucinda. It becomes you very well.’
    ‘Thank you, Avonlea.’ Lucinda inclined her head but did not smile. For the past two days they had managed to behave with civility towards one another. Her husband paid her compliments and appeared satisfied with the arrangements she was making for the ball, but he was still distant, a little cool in his manner, though at times she saw an expression in his eyes that puzzled her. ‘Do you have plans for this morning?’
    ‘I was thinking of riding into Thaxted to visit someone. Did you wish for the carriage? If you are going visiting, I could accompany you tomorrow.’
    ‘I know very few of your friends,’ Lucinda said. ‘I have not felt able to visit, though I believe one or two of your neighbours have called. I was unfortunately out at

    the time—but perhaps tomorrow we