A summons had been delivered to her bedchamber a short time ago by one of the maids. The Duke of Savoy had arrived and Mama had requested Blythe’s presence in the green drawing room. Her every step felt leaden. She did not want to face this interview. Only a fortnight ago, she would have been thrilled to know that His Grace had come to ask for her hand in marriage. She would have rejoiced in the golden future that lay before her. But that had been before she had fallen in love with James. The mere thought of him threatened to open the floodgates of her emotions. She hadn’t seen him since that glorious interlude in the middle of the night and their ensuing quarrel. After he had gone, she had crawled into bed and hugged Minx for comfort, eventually falling into a troubled slumber. By the time she’d awakened, it had been late morning. The patter of raindrops on the window explained the darkness of the room. Minx had vanished, presumably taken out by the maid. In a state of numbness, Blythe had prepared herself for this audience.
