"I would like that very much." Lady Brandon took Molly's arm, turning her away from the party.
"Let us take a turn about the room. I feel there is so much to discuss. How has your holiday been so far? I understand you were to only stay a month, but you just returned from Naples, no? Has something changed in your circumstances to keep you here in my incredible home country?"
Molly wondered if she should tell her friend of her marriage. She had not written to her family as yet and would hate for the news of her nuptials to reach them from someone else other than herself. She would ensure that tonight she would write the necessary letters. "I was to return and join the Duchess of Whitstone, and Countess Duncannon in London for the new Season. That, however, will no longer occur. I'm going to be staying in Rome for some time."
"Why is that? Do you like the city so very much that you have decided to make it your permanent address?"
Molly nodded, unable to hold back the smile at the thought of Hugh in her life.
"I was married last month, my lady. It has been a whirlwind courtship, but one that I do not regret. I have found the man of my heart, and I shall make Rome my home since this is his home also."
"Oh, my darling friend, I cannot believe it." Lady Brandon blushed a little, before taking two glasses of champagne from a passing servant. "Not that I do not believe that anyone should not wish to marry you, but that you have accepted him. I always thought you were settled as a spinster—a woman who enjoyed her independence. A point proven I believe by the fact that you're in Rome and only with a companion for company. How is Miss Sinclair? Still complaining about doing what she is paid to do?"
Molly chuckled, sipping her fruity drink. "Not at all. I do believe my companion has fallen for a handsome servant of my husband. I think it is only a matter of time before they marry. I do not see her returning to England anytime soon."
"Well, that is delightful news." Her ladyship beamed at her, her eyes bright and eager for news. "Tell me of the gentleman who has won your heart? Is he someone we would know? Is he a Roman man? We all know how very lovely they can be," she said with a wink. "It would not surprise me that one has captured your heart, my dear."
All true, of course, but not in this case. "He's English, has lived abroad for several years now. Mr. Hugh Armstrong is his name. Have you heard of him?"
Lady Brandon pulled back a little, the color draining from her cheeks.
Molly reached out to her, taking her arm. "Are you well, Rose? You've become quite pale."
Her ladyship shook herself a little before continuing. "Do you mean to tell me that Lord Hugh Armstrong, Lord Farley when he left England and is now the Duke of St. Albans, is your husband?"
The name Farley bounced about in her mind. Molly shook her head, clearing it of the troublesome thought that she'd married a man who went by the same name as the gentleman who had ruined her cousin's life.
"Pardon?" she said, unable to voice more words. There were hundreds of Farleys, and in Italy, surely. A common name that wasn't always linked with nobility. That Lady Brandon had jumped to the conclusion Hugh was the man who had ruined all her cousin's hopes and dreams, had left her heartbroken before she died was unfathomable.
It could not be Hugh.
"I do not think Mr. Armstrong is who you mean. I thought Lord Farley had traveled to Spain, not Rome."
Lady Brandon glanced about them, checking that they were alone. "I may be mistaken, but did I not hear a rumor that your family has a distant association with the St. Albans? Your cousin, Miss Cox, was ruined by Lord Farley. Is that not correct?"
Molly frowned, panic clawing at her chest. "How do you know that? No one knows of the connection. My family was very careful to keep others from being tainted by Laura's social demise."
"Ah, well as to that. When I married Lord Brandon and returned to England with him from Italy, I hired a dressmaker. She happened to be the late Miss Cox's dressmaker, and I heard a time or two little tidbits of information. Your name was said along with Miss Cox's, and it wasn't hard to assume a blood connection. You do look very similar to Miss Cox. I was aware of her during her first Season."
Molly nodded, swallowing as bile rose in her throat. If Lady Brandon knew of Laura and her connection to Molly, how many other people in London did also? Was that why she had never had any offers to her hand? Did they think her, too, fallen from grace?
Heat rushed to her face, and she took a fortifying sip of her wine. Hugh could not be Lord Farley. And what was this about him being a duke?
"You mentioned Lord Farley is now the Duke St. Albans. What has happened to his older brother?"
Her ladyship pursed her lips, a displeased line to her mouth. "Racing his curricle and lost control of the vehicle. Killed both himself and his valet. Before we caught our ship to Rome, it was all London was talking of."
Lord Farley could not be her husband. He could not. She would not believe such a thing. "Mr. Armstrong is not whom you speak of. I'm certain of it."
"Armstrong was the surname of the late Duchess St. Albans. It was her maiden name. I think I'm correct in this, Molly. I think this is too much of a coincidence to be an error."
Molly glanced about the room. She breathed deep, needing air. Her gown was too tight, her skin too heated. The room spun, and she clasped her ladyship for purchase. "May we go someplace else? I cannot think straight in this room."
"Of course," Lady Brandon bustled her out of the atrium and into a nearby sitting room that was thankfully empty. "Mr. Armstrong, your husband, is who I believe him to be, is he not?"
This could not be true. Hugh could not be the one and the same man whom she'd sworn to hate for all eternity. "I cannot believe it. It cannot be so."
"But I think it is so, my dear. Miss Laura Cox was your cousin, was she not? I'm not wrong in that."
"You are not wrong." Her answer came out but a whisper, and she could not believe the words. The life that she had hoped to live evaporated before her eyes. A little mocking voice taunted her that this is what happened when one married without knowing the other person for very long. That this was a sign that she was not meant for love or marriage. That she should have been content being alone and having herself for company.
"Whatever will I do?"
"Have you consummated the marriage? I know I should not ask such a personal question, but is there a chance of an annulment?" Lady Brandon asked, concern masking her voice.
"There is no chance of an annulment. Most definitely not a route that I can take to fix what I have unwillingly done."
Her ladyship sighed, reaching out to take her hand. "Then it would seem that you're the Duchess of St. Albans. Whatever will you do? Will you confront him with this?"
"I will face him, yes. He has lied to me most cruelly." The idea that she would unwittingly marry the very man who ruined her cousin's life was unfathomable. Of all the people she thought she would meet abroad, he was not one of them. For years, the duke's younger brother had been rumored to be living in Spain, content to stay there and live off the family fortune. Had he been in Italy all this time instead? It would seem that he had.
"I shall walk you to the door and have your carriage summoned if you wish."