Chapter 5
CHAPTER 5
O ver the next few hours, her thoughts were haunted by the sound of his voice telling her to wear a green dress. Eventually, she gave in and asked Betsy, her maid, to pull out the green dress she had packed even though it required some work.
Now as she stood in the doorway of the ballroom, the focus of many guests, she grudgingly admitted that the Duke was right and the color did wonders for her. She could not blame them for looking. The dress she wore was made of emerald-green lace, offset by satin in the same color, and complete with a set of gloves. It was cut in a way that flattered her voluptuous shape in good light.
She garnered admiring glances from both ladies and gentlemen alike, confirming what she had always known. Betsy was a good hand with the needle and had managed to transform the dress so that no one noticed that it was at least from three Seasons ago.
Selina had arrived just as the men were about to withdraw to the drawing room to participate in the customary card games. Her presence had caused the process to slow down, as more than one gentleman had stopped to give her an admiring glance or two.
While she was not particularly given to vanity, their helpless attraction soothed her wounded feminine pride. She silently thanked the Duke of Seymour. His plan seemed to be working tremendously well.
“You look absolutely lovely in green.” The deep voice that belonged to the object of her recent thoughts came from somewhere behind her. In combination with his proximity, it caused the hairs on the nape of her neck to stand up.
“I would say that it definitely matches the color of so many people’s jealousy this night,” he added, slight amusement lacing his voice.
“It is all thanks to you, Your Grace. I must confess, you do have an eye for fashion,” she said, turning so she was staring into his handsome face.
She watched his amusement transform into smug satisfaction.
“I do aim to please, My Lady,” he said with a slight bow. “My job is only half done, at the moment. You have yet to attract a suitor. I bet my entire estate that you will attract a score of them tonight.”
“Do not tell me you are prone to gambling, Your Grace?” she asked with a teasing smile.
“It would be for a worthy cause,” he replied, his eyes dancing with merriment.
“My Lady,” a voice called from behind her, causing her to turn around.
It was the blonde-haired, blue-eyed son of the Duke of Nothingham, and he was smiling at her sheepishly, if not nervously.
She did not blame him—the lad had hardly attended college. He was still young and inexperienced in the game of charming the ladies of the ton, even though he did have the makings of a future rake with his blonde, Adonis-like looks. She almost felt sorry for the ladies; how easily he would be able to charm them to their ruin if he so pleased.
“Could I perhaps trouble you for a dance?” he asked with a bright smile. “I believe a quadrille will start soon.”
Selina had to admit that what he lacked in experience, he made up for with his manners and enthusiasm. While he might not be a good suitor for her, he was an attractive man. He would make a good partner even if he did not set her blood on fire the way the Duke of Seymour did without making an effort.
“I would be delighted to, Your Grace,” she replied with a deep curtsey, offering him the dance card that was tied to her wrist.
“I believe that is my cue to leave,” Seymour spoke up from behind her, causing her to turn back to him.
She had been acutely aware of his presence even though he had remained quiet. The back of her neck warmed as the heat of his breath met her, causing her to heat up everywhere else.
“My Lady, do enjoy your dance. I believe I promised to dance with one lady this evening,” he said with a bow.
Acknowledging her dance partner with a nod, he strode away and met up with a young, blonde lady—a debutante, Selina was sure, gauging by how hard she giggled.
She was a golden beauty, and Selina could see why Seymour would want to have her as a dance partner. It was a natural response any red-blooded man would have to such a young, innocent beauty, but she did not understand why it made her chest tighten and her breath shorten.
“My Lady,” the Duke of Nothingham called, reminding her that she did have someone waiting for her.
From the cold look in his eyes, it was obvious that he had not been blind to the fact that she had spent the better part of five minutes staring at Seymour like a lost puppy.
“I believe the dance is starting,” he said, offering her his arm while she studiously avoided his gaze.
The dance was a mostly quiet affair, for her partner seemed to have decided to keep quiet.
Several times, she caught herself searching the dance floor for Seymour. At last, she spotted him dancing with the golden-haired beauty. He was smiling at something the young lady had said, and at that moment, Selina would have given anything to know what they were talking about that had him so captivated.
“Why do you not go to him?” her partner asked in a gruff tone, causing her head to snap up in surprise.
“Go to who, Your Grace?” Selina returned, plastering on an innocent smile, hoping that he had not caught her staring again.
“To the Duke of Seymour, My Lady,” he said with a forced smile. “I might be young, but I am not stupid. You have spent most of the dance seeking him out with your eyes when you thought no one was looking, and he was doing exactly the same when he thought no one was looking too.”
Richard was seeking me out too? He showed no inclination to do so when his carriage was so calm and peaceful.
“I think you might be mistaken, Your Grace. I do not think of the Duke in that manner, and he definitely does not see me in that light.”
As she spoke, Selina suddenly realized that the music had come to an end. Her dance partner bowed to her, before offering her his arm and leading her off the dance floor.
“I might be young, My Lady, but I am a man, and the looks exchanged between you both were nothing short of incendiary,” Nothingham said with a rueful grin. “Thank you for the wonderful dance, My Lady. I hope you can smoothen things out with your Duke.”
“He is not my —” she started to protest but stopped when the man strode away after a brief bow. It seemed he did not want to listen to her excuses.
Seymour could not have feelings for her when he was surrounded by several beautiful, fresh-faced debutantes. Apart from making suggestions about her wardrobe, the man had not made another effort to strike up a conversation with her. She did not understand where her dance partner had come up with the ridiculous notion that he might be interested in her in a romantic way.
She was a confident person, naturally, but she was well aware of her strengths and flaws. She was an older young lady, fast on her way to spinsterhood, with tendencies to be more opinionated than was good for her.
Selina was hardly a catch for a man like the Duke of Seymour, who was a public figure in his own right—handsome, with the perfect blend of brooding and charming tendencies that made him one of the most eligible bachelors in England.
To think that he would forgo the chance to be with a beautiful, innocent debutante to be with her was to be possessed of a delusion of the highest order.
Selina was suddenly angry with the Duke of Nothingham for planting such a thought in her head.
“You have outdone yourself, my dear,” an excited voice said from beside her, making her look up until she met her aunt’s hazel eyes.
Martha’s eyes were dancing with merriment at the moment, and her overly plump body was vibrating with happiness.
“Good evening, Aunt Martha,” Selina greeted in a dry voice. “I thought you would be resting this evening.”
“Silly girl,” her aunt said, swatting her arm. “If I did not come, who would keep an eye on you girls? Besides, I am glad I have attended this particular event because I get to witness the turn in your fortune. You had more admirers this evening than in your previous Season. Whoever advised you to wear the green dress did a good deed and needs to be rewarded,” she said, her mouth splitting into a smile.
“If everything continues in this manner, it is safe to say that you will be married before the end of this Season.” She clapped her hands together in excitement. “Continue what you are doing—it is working!”
The sight of her aunt smiling so widely was surprising to Selina. The elderly woman was usually foreboding and disapproving—always ready to criticize. She had given Selina grief on the matter of her unmarried state, insisting that it was her strong opinions that scared all potential suitors away.
Selina had never thought that she could do anything to please the grumpy older lady. A part of her was soothed by the thought that she had her approval. No matter how overbearing Martha was, she was the only motherly influence Selina had in her life since her parents had died several years ago. Selina was grateful to her for looking out for them, even though she did not always approve of her methods.
“Pray tell,” Martha continued, drawing her out of her reverie, “who is the fashion genius behind your transformation? I really want to reward them.”
“It was the Duke of Seymour,” Selina blurted out.
“Seymour?” her aunt asked, a puzzled expression creasing her brow. “What would he know about fashion, and what business does he have with you?”
“He owed me a favor and decided to pay it by telling me which color he felt best suited my complexion and eyes.”
“I must say he has a good eye,” Martha said with a nod. “But then Seymour is the perfect gentleman. Kind, handsome, and charming. He is perfect, except for the fact that he has flighty Johanna as a mother.” She shook her head in pity.
“You are acquainted with the Dowager Duchess?” Selina asked, her curiosity getting the better of her.
“Yes, I am. We both debuted at the same time, and even then, she was prideful and flighty. She was beautiful and had many suitors, but she was adept at using her beauty to get what she wanted. She kept all of them on a short leash, making them believe that she might consider their suit while accepting all their gifts until the drawing room of their house resembled a gift shop.
“Until towards the end of the Season, when the previous Duke rejoined the ton and immediately took a liking to her. He was very much like his peers, but one thing set him apart from his competitors. He was a rich duke, and Johanna claimed to have fallen in love with him. In a thrice, she wrote rejection letters to her other suitors. Her courtship with the Duke was a whirlwind, and soon they had one of the best weddings the ton had ever seen.
“But barely a few years into their marriage, the love story that had taken the ton by storm turned sour. It appeared that while the Duke’s charm might have subdued her flighty tendencies, it did not completely stop it. In no time, she was acquiring lovers left and right. It is a little surprising that she managed to raise a good-hearted, principled man like the current Duke.”
Selina would be lying if she said the story hadn’t surprised her. The Duke was so proper and disciplined, but he was playing havoc with her equilibrium. Like his mother, he could hold people in thrall. The fact that he had not used those natural talents was a testament to his principled character.
“Speak of the devil and she appears,” her aunt muttered under her breath.
Sure enough, when Selina looked towards the entrance of the ballroom, the Dowager Duchess of Seymour was walking in, dressed to the nines in a deep blue sequined dress that glittered when she moved. Her carriage depicted nothing short of Royalty, and at that moment, Selina understood how the woman was able to enthrall so many men in her prime.
After all, the Dowager Duchess still carried traces of the great beauty she once was in the slimness of her nose, her high cheekbones, and the unique indigo shade of her expressive eyes. She was beautiful. She knew it, and she was not afraid to use her beauty to get exactly what she wanted, even if that was a place in a young rake’s bed.
As Selina watched her walk in with a bold smile, it soon became clear to her that she was heading towards them. Her smile dimmed as the Dowager Duchess came closer.
“Good evening, Your Grace,” Selina greeted, before dropping into a curtsey.
Her eyes widened in shock when she saw that her aunt remained standing, her expression one of open defiance.
“Please forgive me, Your Grace,” Martha said, jutting her chin. “I cannot curtsey with these knees.”
She did not bother to appear remorseful because she wasn’t, and she definitely did not have any problems with her knees.
Her love for gardening meant that she spent a lot of time on her knees, and a curtsey was in no way a hardship for her—except that she did not want to, since the Duchess in question was an enemy.
“I would prefer not to be known in Society for forcing people to curtsey in their failing… health,” the Dowager Duchess said, emphasizing the word ‘failing,’ knowing that it would annoy Martha.
Sure enough, Martha’s eyes narrowed, flashing with aggravation.
“I must confess that you look well, Martha,” the Dowager Duchess continued with chilly sweetness.
“And you look exactly the same,” Martha gritted out.
“Really? I would say the same for you, but that wouldn’t be true. You seem a little more plump. Still have an appetite for sweets, eh?” The Dowager Duchess’s eyes flashed with merriment even though her expression remained frosty.
She was thoroughly enjoying the exchange and how it enraged Martha.
“Well, at least I have kept my dignity,” Martha retorted. “I am sure the same cannot be said for you.” When the Dowager Duchess’s smile dimmed at the particularly sharp barb, she went in for the kill. “You must have had so many worries lately. The wrinkles on your forehead are as deep as the ridges I have to make for my flowers.” She affected a concerned tone, but the triumphant smirk on her face belied it.
The Dowager Duchess barely had any wrinkles except for a few laughter lines that Selina could see. But public opinion was a cunning thing, and for a woman who considered her beauty one of her most valuable assets, Martha had found the easiest way to wound her.
“I believe I spotted my son somewhere in this ballroom. You will have to excuse me,” the Dowager Duchess said, before walking away as fast as she could while remaining graceful.
Martha was indeed a formidable opponent in a battle of wills, and no matter what she said, Selina knew that there was more to their cold enmity than she had let on.
The effect of her new transformation had followed her to the next event at the house party. This time, Selina wore one of her green gowns—a rich shade of forest green embroidered with wildflowers. More than one gentleman had sworn that the gown made her look like a goddess of wildlife, and who would not want a goddess on his arm?
She was approached by so many men that it became exhausting. Even though she made appropriate noises when they conversed with her, her mind was preoccupied with trying to find Richard and ascertain where he was on the large expanse of land that was the terrace of the Mulford’s house. When she found him, he was standing somewhere close to the river, his dark head bent in conversation with another gentleman.
She knew she should be grateful that his advice seemed to be yielding fruits and she now had a herd of new suitors, but with every conversation, her disappointment deepened until she despaired of finding an independent-minded, level-headed man among them.
They all spoke of the same things—their expectations of the women in their lives, their pride in their horses, and how large their estates were. There was nothing in the way of character that suggested her married life would not be drab and uninspiring.
Besides, while she dressed up for the day’s event, she had come to the realization that she only had two green gowns in her possession and she had already worn them. Since the ton held rather irrelevant things in high esteem, it stood to reason that she could not give them the opportunity to ridicule her when she was finally changing their perception of her.
She noticed that the Duke was heading somewhere into the house—presumably to find the library, as he preferred the solitude of such rooms when he wanted to escape the chaos into which social events could transform in the blink of an eye.
Excusing herself from the gentleman who was engaging her in conversation, she hurried after him, the skirt of her dress bunched in her hands to allow her ease of movement. She was just in time to see him turn the corner and enter the library.
She waited for some time outside, doing her best to slow her breathing so that it wasn’t obvious she had chased after him. When she had succeeded in calming down a little, she turned the knob and stepped into the dimly lit library.
“Lady Selina,” he said in that deep voice of his. “While I would never miss the chance to be with a beautiful woman, I am at a loss as to what brings you here, in this moment, when you should be entertaining your admirers.” He arched a perfect eyebrow.
“About that. It appears that your tip has been working tremendously well, and I am grateful, but there is a problem.”
“What might that be, might I ask?” He folded his arms across his chest and leaned back against one of the shelves.
That position drew her eyes to his biceps as they bulged against the fabric of his shirt sleeves.
She had to make a conscious effort to look away, but when she met his eyes, the hot spark in them told her that her ogling had not escaped his notice.
She could feel her cheeks burning with embarrassment, and she cleared her throat in a bid to regain her composure.
“It appears that I have run out of green dresses, and I still do not have the suitor I so desire.”
“There is no rule that says green is the only color that flatters your complexion. Light shades of brown, as well as gold, could work as well.”
“To my knowledge, I have no brown dresses in my closet.”
“It is nothing that cannot be solved in a thrice. It is hardly enough to get your skirts in a twist about.”
Instead of reassuring her, his words and overly relaxed body language irritated her in a way that she had not expected.
“It seems you are not treating this with the urgency it requires. While I might have several suitors now, there are none that I am willing to marry.”
Richard’s expression turned intense, and he slowly pushed off the shelf. He prowled towards her, his eyes flashing with heat.
Instinctively, Selina moved backward until her back was flush with the wall beside the door, but Richard did not stop. He kept advancing until she could feel the heat of his body.
“Why do you think that is? That you have not managed to find a compatible suitor amongst all your gentlemen admirers?” he drawled, a cruel smirk curving his lips.
The man was aware of the power he had over her, and he was not afraid to use it.
“Perhaps you are holding on for someone else?” he said, leaning forward so that she was forced to inhale even more of his scent.
Each moment she spent this close to him shattered her self-control bit by bit.
“And what if I was? Would it be so wrong if I decided that I want to have a happy marriage with a man who adores me?”
“Of course not, kitten. It is not wrong, but it might be a tad bit unrealistic, especially with your aim to marry soon.”
“I do have some time?—”
“I do not think you do,” he interrupted, his smile dropping and his expression turning serious. “Besides, I do not think you will find what you are looking for in the gentlemen of the ton.”
“Why? Do you find me that unattractive?” she said, a note of affront in her voice.
“On the contrary, My Lady. I find you intelligent and bold, and while they are traits I admire, they make you an incompatible prospect for at least a third of the ton. These men are vain and are only interested in hedonism of the highest order. They have no purpose to help better society like you do. How could they, when most of them are as dumb as a doorknob? What you require, dearest Selina,” he said, stepping even closer, “is a man who will match your sharp wit and tame your sharp edges.”
His eyes burned even hotter as they roved over her face, sparking heat and awareness along her spine.
She licked her lips, which suddenly felt dry. His eyes followed the movement with almost scalding intensity.
“Do not tell me you think you could be that man?” she asked, her eyes widening in disbelief.
“And what if I could?” His voice was a deep growl, and his eyes feasted hungrily on her lips.
She did not know who moved first, but in the next moment, their faces were almost touching, their lips separated merely by a sliver of air.
At that moment, Selina desperately wanted him to kiss her. She desperately wanted to know what it felt like to have those tempting lips moving over hers. Perhaps he was way above her station, but he could give her this. A memory to hold onto in the dark, lonely nights she was sure to endure in the future.
Just when she was sure he would slant his lips over hers and whisk her away from her misery, he withdrew.
“My apologies, My Lady,” he muttered, striding away quickly as if the devil was on his trail, leaving Selina standing in the middle of the library confused, frustrated, and more than a little angry.
Richard walked away, and kept walking until he was out of the house, taking deep breaths in the hope that it might cool his overheated body. For some reason, whenever he was in the presence of Selina, he lost control, saying and doing things he would never have contemplated ordinarily.
He could not believe that he had implied that she would do better to consider him as a suitor. He could not believe that he had said that, but the thought might not have been that unrealistic, especially considering the hot flares of jealousy that had plagued him during these last events. He had watched her being wined and dined by other gentlemen, knowing very well that they would not make a good spouse for her.
When he had started having such thoughts, he should have done the reasonable thing—staying away from the source of his jealousy and avoiding events she was likely to attend. However, it seemed he had developed a liking for torture that made him attend these events and watch her being fawned over by her suitors.
Soon enough, he could take it no longer. He decided to step away and go to a quiet corner of the house before he gave in to the urge to approach her. He wanted to tell her suitors off, especially the ones that were lecherous enough to glance down her bodice.
It seemed, however, that his peace was not to be because she followed him to complain about green dresses and lack thereof.
He doubted she had approached him simply to talk about her wardrobe. He believed she was not completely unaware of the sensual tension between them. He believed it was that attraction that was drawing her to him. Today, he realized that he had an unhealthy attraction to seeing Selina in the throes of some strong emotion, whether it was anger or desire.
He had loved it so much that he had not realized he was taking the bait. Soon, he was burning with those volatile emotions and had almost kissed her. It had taken him superhuman strength to drag himself away from the glittering, pink temptation of her lips.
Somehow, he knew that if he touched her, it was not going to end in a kiss. It would go on, progressing until they brought it to its natural conclusion and he’d made love to her.
No matter what, he was never going to dishonor her in that manner.
Standing in the middle of the clearing, he scanned the sea of noblemen who were wining and dining. Eventually, he spotted Eli, the host. He was standing on the bank of the river, deep in conversation with two other gentlemen.
Sensing his approach, Eli looked up, and their gazes met. Something on Richard’s face might have indicated that all was not well with him because Eli excused himself from the gentlemen and approached him.
“You look hassled,” Eli said with a teasing smile. “Do not tell me you were hiding from the ambitious mamas and their debutante daughters?”
“Far from it,” Richard replied ruefully. “I think they might have set their eyes elsewhere for the moment. I have a lot on my mind. Do you fancy a walk to town?”
“Why would you want to do that when you have a carriage, especially in this chilly weather?” Eli asked, an incredulous look on his face.
“It is primarily because it is chilly that I wish to take a walk.”
Eli stared at him. He was perplexed for a moment, but when he eventually realized the possible cause of such a proclamation, he nodded. However, he made no effort to ask him about it, and for that, Richard was immensely grateful.