“Feel free to ask me anything, My lady.”
“What happened between you and my brother?” Timothy stiffened and she frowned at him. “He refused to tell me what occurred between the two of you.”
“It’s merely a petty squabble. You know Jonathan and I get in those all the time.”
“When you two were younger, perhaps, but not now. Well, I suppose age has nothing to do with it. I hope you two can work it out soon.”
I hope so too.
Timothy didn’t like being on bad terms with Jonathan. Maybe when he went to the manor to speak to the Earl, he could speak to Jonathan about what happened as well.
Thankfully, the song ended shortly after. Lady Nancy said nothing to him as he led her back to her father’s side, but she did stare after him, those soulful eyes filled deep with confusion. Timothy tried not to focus on her any longer and, after noting that Jonathan was absent, he went back to where he was standing.
And as fate would have it, Lord Roburg and his family arrived. They made a beeline for him, Lord and Lady Roburg leading the way and their two daughters following behind. Timothy caught eyes with Matilda who gave him a tiny smile. It made his heart thud, those honey-colored eyes that could make the most hardened heart fall.
“You were right, My Lord,” Timothy said before the Viscount could get anything out. “I think fate is trying to bring us together.”
“I do think so myself, Your Grace,” Lord Roburg said with a hearty laugh. “We’ve only just arrived and look at us already.”
Timothy tried not to look at Matilda when the Viscount replied him. He didn’t have to. He already knew that she was suspecting the very plan he had put into place.
“Lady Roburg, you’re looking as beautiful as ever.”
“Thank you, Your Grace,” Lady Roburg responded. She stepped back, allowing Timothy to get a better view of her daughters. He wondered if that had been her intention. He doubted it, seeing the blank stare she wore.
The Jones sisters were dressed quite alike yet different all the same. The cut of their dress was slightly different, Miss Elizabeth Jones wearing one that was more demure than the one Matilda had on. With her curls perched perfectly on her head, she gave Timothy a smile that told him she knew all his little secrets.
When he finally allowed himself to look at Matilda, he wasn’t sure he could look away. He didn’t know how but she always managed to dazzle him time and time again. With her hair done in a similar style to Elizabeth’s and the deep purple hue of her dress bringing her face to life, he wasn’t sure he’d ever be able to tear his eyes away.
“Good evening, Your Grace.”
He managed it when Elizabeth spoke. She was smiling at him, making it clear as day that she was aware of what was happening between them. From the corner of his eye, Timothy saw Matilda laugh and shake her head. “Good evening, Miss Jones. How are you?”
“I’m wonderful. I’m perfectly fine. The question is, how are you?”
This time, Matilda’s laugh was a little too much and she was forced to hide it behind her hand. Both Timothy and Miss Elizabeth Jones grinned.
“Elizabeth, what are you talking about?” Lord Roburg asked, looking utterly confused. Lady Roburg didn’t look like she cared to ask.
“Nothing at all, Father. I was merely wondering if His Grace would like to dance with me.”
The Viscount’s eyes looked just about ready to drop out of his head at his daughter’s words. “If His Grace wanted to dance with you I’m sure he would have asked. Your Grace, forgive my daughter for her—”
“Actually, My Lord,” Timothy cut in. “I would love to dance with your daughter. She read my mind.”
“I have a tendency to do that,” Miss Elizabeth Jones said smilingly. “But it’s really too bad. I’ve been feeling awfully dizzy since I left the carriage and I just don’t think I’m up to dancing quite as yet.”
“Oh.” Confused now, Timothy glanced at Matilda for help. She only wore a patient smile on her face. “Well, all right, if that’s the case, then—”
“Then you can dance with my sister, yes? I’m sure she would love to stretch her legs some, wouldn’t you, Matilda?”
“I suppose it would be nice to, yes,” Matilda played along.
“Of course.” Grinning from ear to ear, Miss Elizabeth Jones stepped around her befuddled father to push Matilda in Timothy’s direction. “And don’t worry about…”
Everyone looked at her when she trailed off. Miss Elizabeth Jones eyes were no longer on either one of them. They were looking past Timothy, at someone who was on the dance floor. The smile on her face fell off bit by bit and Timothy watched as complete horror filled her eyes.
“Elizabeth?” Matilda asked, coming closer to her. “What’s the matter?”
She didn’t answer. She didn’t tear her eyes away from whatever it was causing her to go still. But her mouth fell open, as if she was trying to say something but couldn’t.
Matilda frowned deeply. She looked in the direction of her sister’s gaze and soon enough, she gasped.
“Matilda?” It was the Viscount who spoke this time, worry set deep in his voice. Timothy was right alongside him, confused by what was happening. “What is it?”
“He’s … here.”
The Viscount face went slack.
He? Who’s he?
Timothy looked in the direction of all their gazes but he couldn’t point out who they were talking about. All he saw were dancing couples, bodies swirling around the dance floor to the rhythm of the music playing. There seemed to be a particular couple that everyone was watching however. Timothy recognize the lady to be Lady Miller, but the gentleman’s back was facing him so he couldn’t tell who it was.
Is he the reason Matilda and her family are suddenly so uncomfortable?
“Matilda.” Miss Elizabeth Jones reached for her sister. Matilda immediately stepped closer to her, holding her hand. She tore her eyes away from the person in question and gave her sister her full attention.
“You’re all right, Elizabeth,” she said softly, so softly that Timothy almost didn’t hear it. “Everything is all right. We’re here, yes?”
Elizabeth looked unnerved. She gripped Matilda’s hand so tightly, the bones stood stark against her skin. “I know,” she murmured. It almost sounded like she was trying to convince herself. “I know.”
Timothy desperately wanted to ask what was going on. They were all on edge. Even Lady Roburg was trembling a little, her eyes latched on to something in front of her. It suddenly hit Timothy that he’d never seen Lady Roburg show any amount of emotion until just then.
Matilda, above all, was frightening him. Her eyes smoldered with anger but he could tell she was battling it. She kept jerking her eyes away, murmuring something into her sister’s ear as if to soothe her. It didn’t seem to be working. Miss Elizabeth Jones looked terrified.
“Your Grace.” Timothy looked at the Viscount, who looked the most normal of them all. “I’m afraid my daughter is feeling a little under the weather. I hope you can understand if we need a little space right now.”
“Of course, of course.” He stepped back, eyes darting to Matilda. She wasn’t even looking at him. Her attention was on her sister. “I understand. I will take my leave.”
He didn’t want to leave. He wanted to stay and figure out what was happening around him, but Timothy knew that wasn’t an option so he backed away. He spotted a few gentlemen he knew and made his way over to them, his mind lingering on that odd situation.
What had unnerved them so? Was there someone on the dance floor who had done them some wrong? Had Miss Elizabeth Jones gotten her heart broken by someone they were no longer associated with? Timothy couldn’t wrap his mind around it and as he stood among the gentlemen, their chatter swirling nonsensically around his head, he couldn’t help but attempt to dissect what he saw, to try and figure it out.
“Timothy.”
Jonathan came to stand next to him. Timothy faced him, forgetting, for a mom
ent what he was thinking about. “Jonathan.”
Jonathan only stared at him for a few moments. The bruise on his cheek was now a bright purple, a stark reminder of the rash way he had reacted to the slander of Matilda’s name. Timothy sighed. “You deserved it.”
He didn’t have to clarify what he was talking about. He didn’t have to lead up to it. That wasn’t how they handled most of their fights and that wasn’t how they were going to handle this one.
Jonathan lifted his chin. “What I said was right.”
“I don’t believe it is,” Timothy said. “But, I don’t think I’ll be able to change your mind. Not right now, at least.”
“Does that mean you’re still interested in her?”
Timothy’s gaze drifted over to Matilda. “Even more so now than I was before.” Jonathan clenched his jaw. Anger flickered to life in his eyes but Timothy decided he was simply going to ignore it. “I apologize for punching you in the face,” he said to him.
Jonathan didn’t say anything straightaway. He only stared him down, that anger smoldering into something else. But then in a moment, it cleared and he sighed. “I apologize for the things I said.”
And just like that, it was fixed. Lady Nancy should be happy about that, at least.
Now that he didn’t have to worry about his friendship any longer, Timothy’s thoughts reverted right back to the odd behavior of Matilda and her family. No matter how much he thought about it, he couldn’t figure it out. It bothered him to no end.
“Well, well. Would you look at who we have here?”
Chapter 26
Jonathan turned at the resounding boom of a voice coming from behind him. Standing just a short feet away was a gentleman he didn’t think he’d ever see again. The gentleman grinned broadly when he spotted him and held out a hand. “Well, I’ll be. If it isn’t the Duke of Dunstead.”
The Duke of Dunstead had been an old friend of Jonathan’s father, though old was not a word you would use to describe a gentleman such as him. Jonathan didn’t know his exact age but he didn’t look to be a day over five-and-thirty. The Duke spread his arms wide, coming toward the both of them in a happy-go-lucky manner that Jonathan wasn’t sure how to deal with it.
“I haven’t seen you two in a long while,” His Grace boomed. “You didn’t think I would be back in London so soon, didn’t you?”
“I didn’t think you’d be back in London at all,” Timothy said. Timothy was well acquainted with His Grace as well, also as a result of his father’s previous business with him. There weren’t many lords in London the Duke didn’t know or who didn’t know him. He was quite a popular bachelor and so Jonathan shouldn’t be really surprised to see him in London when the Season was in full swing.
“Don’t tell me you’re here to get yourself a wife, Your Grace,” Jonathan said. “I didn’t peg you as the type to want to settle down into marriage.”
“Is anyone the type to want to do something as horrendous as that?” the Duke asked. He chuckled softly. “But it doesn’t look like I have much of a choice. I’m growing old and soon enough, I’ll need to start a family soon.”
“Old?” Timothy said with a crook of his brow. “Is this what it looks like to be old?”
The Duke guffawed heartily, holding his stomach as he did. “Sir, you flatter me unnecessarily. If that’s the case, I hope there won’t be a problem for me to find myself a nice lady who can bear me a lot of children.”
“Well, look around, Your Grace,” Jonathan said dryly. “There are a lot for the choosing.”
Not to his surprise, the Duke actually looked around himself and so did Jonathan without a second thought. He was about to return his attention to the Duke when he spotted Miss Matilda Jones standing with her family.
She looked… uncomfortable. Her eyes were shifting and she was standing much closer to her sister than was necessary. As for Miss Jones’ younger sister, her head was down, eyes on the floor.
What is wrong with them?
Curious, Jonathan looked at the Viscount of Roburg who was standing to the other side of the younger Miss Jones. He wore a frown, staring out at nothing. From the few times he’d met the Viscount, he’d known him to be a smiling gentleman who always had a joke on the tip of his tongue.
What is the cause of such consternation now?
Even Lady Roburg, who stood at his side, was the picture of discomfort, wringing her hands together nervously.
The Duke was talking. Jonathan only vaguely heard him, his attention focused on the odd behavior of this family. None of them were saying anything and anyone who approached Miss Elizabeth Jones was turned away by either a look from her sister or a word from her father. They came to a ball and they did not want to dance?
Jonathan focused his eyes on Miss Matilda Jones. She wore a tiny frown, eyes on the floor as well, though her head wasn’t down. She looked up, running her gaze across the room until they came to land on them. Jonathan assumed she was looking at Timothy but… her eyes didn’t quite match up with him. She was looking at the Duke of Dunstead.
It was hard to miss him. He was a large gentleman, handsome in the face and was always a pleasure to talk to. There were many ladies looking this way, staring longingly at the popular Duke who had shown up out of nowhere. Miss Matilda Jones was the only lady wearing such an expression.
Whatever it was that had upset the Viscount and his family had something to do with the newcomer. Jonathan settled his eyes back on him, then frowned.
What’s this?
The Duke was staring past Jonathan, at the Viscount of Roburg and his family. His eyes were soft, almost … sympathetic. Jonathan looked over at his friend, wondering if he was noticing this odd exchange as well.
It seemed like he did. Timothy wore a frown, his eyes darting to the Jones family and to the Duke, who had looked away by now. The Duke started talking again, clearly oblivious to the way they were observing him.
Is there something I’m missing here? And, whatever it was, did Timothy not know as well?
The Duke was going on about a tale but Timothy had clearly stopped listening. His eyes were on Matilda instead.
Does he know she is looking at the Duke or does he think she is looking at him?
Either way, another plan was fast forming in his mind. His last plan had failed miserably and Jonathan half blamed himself. He was foolish to think that merely saying bad, but probably true, things about Matilda would sway Timothy’s heart in any way. He should know his friend. He should know that such things wouldn’t work on a gentleman like him.
But maybe he could separate them some other way, using the Duke. He would have to find out what the Duke did to them first, and when he did, he should be able to devise a plan that would finally tear Timothy away from her side and allow him to focus on what he needed to do.
* * *
The day was beautiful. The sun’s glow seemed particularly soothing, the calm breeze making the grasses, trees, and bushes sway in the wind. She could smell the fresh scent of baked bread coming from the kitchen, a smell Matilda loved more than anything. It was funny how it all seemed to add up to a marvelous day when there was no chance of her being able to enjoy it.
She sat as still as stone by the window in the drawing room, staring out at nothing. Across from her, Louisa did the same. For her mother, this was normal behavior, but it was out of the ordinary to see Matilda sit so still. She couldn’t bring herself to move however. She couldn’t bring herself to speak. She couldn’t bring herself to be normal after the ball they attended last night.
The effects of it still weighed heavily on everyone. Elizabeth had gone straight to her room the moment they arrived back at the manor and her father had locked himself in his study. Matilda had found herself standing in the foyer with her mother, neither of them saying a word. Then her mother had turned and walked away, leaving her there standing by herself.
The morning’s breakfast had been a silent affair. Jackson had eaten with his governess alone, and a
s soon as everyone was finished, they all headed back to their respective quarters without so much as a word. Elizabeth to her room, her father to his study, Louisa to the drawing room. Matilda went with her mother, seeking company but not wanting to feel pressured to break the silence with conversation.
That was then. Now, as she tore her eyes away from the window to look at her mother, she wished she would say something. She wished everyone wouldn’t all disappear in different parts of the manor. She wished they would talk about it, get whatever it was that was on their chest out into the open. Yet, she supposed they were all sick and tired of talking. For now, they could do nothing but stay silent and soak up the dregs of the night.
The Duke of Dunstead had appeared. They had all been confident that he wouldn’t be in London during this Season. He was never in London during Season, not even in the country. He always boasted about being in India or other places of the world and Matilda and the others had latched on to that information. It was the only reason they thought it safe to come back.
The Scandalous Secret 0f The Tempting Duchess (Steamy Historical Regency Romance) Page 19
