Rowena blinked at him and then glanced at Christopher. Her lips parted as she was about to speak but before she could, Christopher’s temper got the better of him.
How dare this dandy move in ahead of me? Who does he think he is? He must think because he is a duke, he’s better than the rest. Well, I too am a duke.
“Excuse me, Your Grace, but Lady Rowena has promised me the minuet. And the cotillion,” Christopher said, taking a step closer to Thornmouth, a smirk on his face.
“Is that so? I believe Lady Hazelshire has employed the new fashion of dance cards for this evening. Shall I inspect Lady Rowena’s dance card? For I am certain my name is written next to the minuet. In any case, I do not need your permission, Lord…whatever your name is.”
“Westmond. I am the Duke of Westmond.”
“Westmond, eh? How very unfortunate for you. Now, if you will excuse me. My future bride and I are going to partake in the festivities now.”
He turned his back to Christopher without another word, leading Rowena away. She glanced over her shoulder; the expression of regret marked her pretty face. She mouthed ‘I am sorry’ and then turned to begin the dance.
Bride? Did he say my bride? Surely, I misheard him. It cannot be.
She could not be betrothed. It wasn’t possible. She was perfect for him. They were perfect together. He had to have misunderstood.
“I am ever so sorry for the mix-up, Your Grace. His Grace was to be here more than an hour ago and got held up. Evidently there was an incident up in Cambridgeshire with the–”
Christopher shook his head and raised a hand.
“I apologize for interrupting, Lord Hazelshire. But did His Grace refer to your daughter as his bride?”
The older man broke into proud grin and nodded as he looked at the couple dancing.
“Indeed, he did. They shall be married sooner rather than later. A fine match it will be. He is a bit brusque, as you noted. However, it is that attitude that has brought him far in the House of Lords and at Court. He will make a good husband. I am certain.”
Christopher’s head felt as though it was spinning. How could this be? She’d not acted like a woman betrothed, not at all. In fact, the manner in which they conversed had led him to believe that…well…that she might feel what he felt. Or could at least.
“I did not realize Lady Rowena was betrothed to be married. Congratulations, Lord Hazelshire,” he tore his eyes away from the dancing couple and focused on her father.
“Well, it is not an official betrothal as yet. In fact, tonight is the first time Rowena has met him since the arrangement was made. They shall begin courting as of now. However, it is all set. The Duke is quite eager for the wedding to go ahead. He’s besotted with Rowena. Has been since they first met a year ago.”
Christopher could tell from the manner in which the older man spoke that he loved his daughter very much. That he wanted the best for her. If only he could see that Thornmouth was not it. He was rude and brash, and from Christopher’s experience with him, utterly unsuited for someone like Lady Rowena.
“Well, I shall join my wife. I’ve promised her to try out my old dancing shoes tonight, given how it is such a glorious night for us. Do not forget to dance with Catherine now, as you promised.” He wagged his index finger in jest, clearly elated by the late showing of Thornmouth. “I am sure we will speak later, regarding the business of the vineyard?”
“Of course, Lord Hazelshire, of course,” Christopher bowed his head which the Earl reciprocated and then departed.
“He seems chipper,” Henry’s voice sounded out from behind him. “Have I missed the minuet? Darn, what poor luck.”
“I am not in the mood for your sarcasm, brother.” Christopher said without looking at his brother. He was fixated by Lady Rowena and her dance partner. She appeared to make conversation with the man, who eagerly lapped up each of her words. Yet, every now and then, she appeared to glance in his direction, the same sorrowful look on her face.
“You are utterly Friday-faced. What has happened? Did the young lady turn out to be a disappointment? I told you not to place her upon a ped—”
Christopher swung around so fast he misjudged their distance and found himself almost nose-to-nose with Henry.
“She is perfection. She is just as I had imagined. I feel…I felt.” He stopped. There was no point in indulging in his daydreams any further. “She is betrothed to that fool. The Duke of Thornmouth.”
“Thornmouth? Is that so? I’ve heard of him. Unpleasant fellow. Arrogant. Determined to enhance his riches at the expense of just about anything. Prinny adores him, I hear.”
Christopher scoffed and shook his head, turning away.
“The news simply gets better and better.”
Henry placed one hand on Christopher’s back.
“Topher. You hardly knew her anyhow. And if she led you to–”
“She led me to do nothing but converse in a manner which was exhilarating. In any case, it appears this match is new; the betrothal is not even official. Evidently, this is the first time they’ve met since the decision was made. Thornmouth was late. Very late. So late, he left poor Lady Rowena in danger of having no partner for the minuet.”
Henry sighed and scratched his chin while nodding his head in a rhythmical motion.
“What is it? You are doing the thing you do when you devise one of your master plans,” Christopher mimicked Henry’s stance.
“Well, silly as I believe your endeavor to capture this young lady’s affections is, I can see how serious you are. As luck would have it, etiquette and manners are in your favor.”
Christopher crossed his arms in front of him and nodded.
“Go on.”
“You said the betrothal is not official? No offer has been made, none accepted, no contracts or dowry exchange?”
Christopher shook his head. “I am not their barrister. However, that is what appears to be the case. Why?”
His brother shrugged. “If there is no official betrothal, then there is nothing to keep you from conversing with the young lady, within the bounds of respectable society of course. Such as at a ball, for example. Look where we are.”
“At a ball. So?”
“So, go and demand the cotillion. It was promised to you, Thornmouth or not. Take the opportunity to speak to her. Then decide what you wish to do.”
Sometimes, he simply wanted to knock his brother on the head for his witty comments and sarcasm. Tonight, was not one of those times. Tonight, he wanted to hug him. Knowing how his brother disliked that sort of affection, he refrained.
“I can seek her out. Speak to her. Perhaps convince her that he is all wrong for her.”
Henry cleared his throat.
“It is not up to her to decide if he is right or wrong for her. It is up to her Father. He is the one you must convince. Given our poor financial state however, it may be quite the task. You do have one thing on your side.”
“The vineyard.”
“Indeed. Now. The music is ending. Perhaps you had better seek out your beloved and whisk her out of the arms of your fellow duke. I meanwhile, will remain over here, at a safe distance.”
Christopher tilted his head to one side, a slight smile on his face. “Henry, there is one more thing I ask of you.”
“Another? If this goes on you will not get to keep Havisham House when you rebuy it. You will owe it to me for all the favors I do you and my precious advice.”
“Whatever you require. For tonight, I need you to ask Lady Catherine for a dance. Her Father has been asking me to, and I will, but first I must speak to her sister once more.”
Henry rolled his eyes so far back only the white was visible.
“Must I?”
“Please. It will buy me some time if you occupy her first.”
With a dramatic sigh, Henry agreed. “Very well, but it appears she has a partner for the cotillion, I shall request another. Scottish reel perhaps. That is at least entertaining. Now, y
ou had better declare your right for the next dance before the orchestra is finished setting up.”
Christopher scanned the dance floor and for one terrible moment, could not find her. But then, standing midway between him and her father, he spotted her. She was engaged in conversation with the Duke, who no doubt expected to share the cotillion with her as well.
I will show you, Thornmouth. You are not the only one who knows how to use the etiquette of the ton to his advantage.
He flared his nostrils and straightened his tailcoat as he set forth toward the couple, more determined now than ever.
Chapter 10
“Crawford Castle is magnificent. You will see. It is glorious. In fact, I am hosting a house party there in July, when Parliament is in recess. You should come, bring the whole family. Never too early to explore your future home, am I correct?”
He beamed at her in a way that made Rowena realize he was genuine. He had clearly been thinking about their future. In fact, he’d spoken of little else during their dance.
It is almost as if he has envisioned an entire future for us, without knowing me or asking me for my opinion.
It was not as though she had expected to be asked her opinion. It was rare that any wife was consulted on anything other than child rearing or perhaps embroidery. Still, it vexed her that the Duke had planned out her life for her without even meeting her.
Well…they had met. She recalled it now. They’d danced together at a ball a year ago. She’d had trouble remembering him because he had simply blended in with the other lords she’d danced with. They all faded away as soon as she took to her bed. She had never met anyone who lingered in her memory, never met anyone extraordinary. Until tonight.
She’d found herself unable to stop stealing glances at Lord Westmond. And he, evidently, felt the same for each time she looked at him, he’d returned the gaze. Her heart had ached when she’d had to tell him she could not dance with him.
And when Lord Thornmouth had so rudely inserted himself into their conversation and broke the news of their unofficial status, she’d wanted to break away and explain. For the look of disappointment on Westmond’s face has been crushing.
“No blemish to your reputation, I am certain.”
She realized she had not heard a word of what her soon to be husband had said to her.
“Excuse me, I did not hear the last part, the chatter around us is ever so loud.”
His mouth twitched in an odd manner, but he gave her a nod.
“I said that I know it is uncouth to dance more than two dances with a man, but given our status there ought to be no blemish to your reputation if we do. The cotillion is next, I believe?”
“And it has been promised to me,” a deep voice sounded out from behind the Duke of Thornmouth, who turned.
Rowena could not help but break into a wide grin. There he was. Duke Westmond.
“Excuse me?” the man in whose arms she presently was in said, his voice thick with disdain.
Rowena licked her lips, her eyes darting from one to the other while the music began in the background.
“I believe if you will take a look at her dance card, you will see my name written beside the cotillion, Your Grace.”
His voice was even and matter-of-fact. Lord Thornmouth turned to her, his eyes wide and wild, fury hidden beneath his handsome features.
“Is that so?” he asked.
She nodded. “Indeed, it is. He requested the dance before we knew when Your Grace would arrive.”
There it was again. The twitch in the corners of his mouth, this time accompanied by a flaring of the nostrils. He was displeased. Displeased enough to break the betrothal which was not yet official?
A part of Rowena hoped so. The silly, romantic part prone to make a cake of herself over some duke she had only just met. The rational part in her knew that she had to smooth the situation over, and now, before the dance began.
“I have saved the Scottish reel and the quadrille for Your Grace, in the hopes you would be able to attend. They are among my most favored. I hope you will still agree to dance them with me? Even though that would take us to three?”
She blinked at him and forced her most genteel smile onto her lips. Knowing how much the number of dances appeared to mean to him, she’d calculated that this might appease him. It did.
He bowed before her. “Of course. I shall dance every dance you wish with you. Now, enjoy your spin on the dance floor. Meanwhile, I will seek out your Mother. She has requested my opinion on when we’d rather have the wedding. Summer or winter.”
Faith, Mama. She simply cannot let the matter rest.
“Of course, Your Grace. I am sure this will please her immensely.”
He turned to leave, and Rowena set her eyes on the young man who’d so brazenly demanded his dance. His jaw was clenched tight and he looked at the Duke with some disdain.
The music for the cotillion was beginning and couples proceeded to the dance floor. He held out his arm for her to take which she did. Just as they were about to step onto the dance floor, her intended husband addressed her once more.
“Do you have a preference, Lady Rowena? For the wedding? I must say I would find a winter wedding charming. Alas, it is ever so far away. Perhaps the summer, eh?”
Rowena swallowed, uncomfortable with the question but she found herself nodding slowly.
“Whatever Your Grace thinks best.”
He clapped his hands together and smiled at her. “Splendid. A summer wedding it will be. Now, enjoy your dance.” He turned his attention from her to the Duke.
“It was a pleasure to make your acquaintance, Your Grace.” His voice was laced with insincerity which made Rowena shiver. At last, he left and the two proceeded to the dance floor where they were finally alone.
“I am ever so sorry, Your Grace. I had imagined since the hour was so late that he would not appear and–”
“Please, do not fret, Lady Rowena. You could not have known. However, I must admit I found myself taken aback by the news that you are all but betrothed.”
She looked up at him, tilting her head to the side.
“I am not officially betrothed. Although an arrangement has been made, that much is true.”
They began their dance, joining the other couples. His hands were gripped tightly around hers as they followed the steps of the dance.
“He certainly appears to consider it official, judging by the manner in which he presented himself.”
The strain in his voice was evident. He had been as displeased by the Duke of Thornmouth’s behavior.
“An offer is about to be made; I am certain.”
She found it impossible to look him in the eyes.
“I expect you are pleased with it? Promised to a duke, that is an achievement for any lady of the ton.”
There was something in his tone that gave her pause. He was upset. She found herself unsure as to how to answer. She had found herself unhappy at the change in her life. However, it was a change she’d always known was coming.
“Nobody has ever asked if I am pleased. Your Grace knows how it is. A lady is fortunate if a good match is made, and this is an excellent one. My Father had taken great care in finding me a match that is suitable.”
This time, she thought to herself, thinking back to the unfortunate business with Lord Mortimer. Her father had thought Mortimer a good match. What if he was wrong again this time? She had to admit, while the Duke of Thornmouth appeared a pleasant man and eager to please her, there was something about him. He was brash and forward, which she did not care for.
Beside her, her dance partner remained quiet, following the steps of the dance carefully, as if it did not come easily to him. At last, he spoke up again.
“Is that all you seek in life? A suitable match? Do you never wish there was more?”
“More? Such as what?”
He shrugged as they twirled on the dance floor.
“A connection? It is ever so rare, but it
is it not something to strive for?”
She knew he was talking about the connection the two of them had discovered yet knew she could not agree with him.
“Of course, and some ladies might be in the position to wait for such a connection, to indulge in such a thing. I, on the other hand, am not.” she paused and glanced up directly at him. “However much I might wish for it.”
He opened his mouth, his face suddenly soft and full of regret. Alas, the music had ended, and the couples were disbursing.
A Forbidden Waltz With the Dashing Duke Page 8
