Chapter 16
CHAPTER SIXTEEN
Algernon had not expected a party could feel so pointless, but it certainly was now he’d made up his mind to marry Maggie.
He paused at the edge of Lady Kent’s drawing room, nodded politely to a viscount’s wife as she prattled on to another guest about the success of her eldest daughter’s recent piano recital, and set his smile in place.
Across the room, clusters of fashionable men and women murmured behind silk fans or champagne glasses, sipping and watching one another with the sharpness of those raised on gossip and scandal.
And at the center of it all stood Lady Kent, smiling and lapping up the attention sent her way.
Algernon usually moved through society with the same detached focus he’d employed with his irritable father. Determined not to reveal his thoughts or provoke a temper with a misplaced remark.
But he was weary of it all and wished only to go home, where there was warmth and honesty.
He hadn’t seen Maggie much today or yesterday. She had thrown herself fully into the work of compiling her father’s lessons into publishable volumes, and Algernon had been out chasing down reputable printers for their project, too.
Maggie’s absence by his side again tonight filled the evening with an ever-present ache, but could not be helped for the moment. He wanted further clarification of the scandal Lady Kent had created.
“Your Grace!” came the unmistakably sickly sweet voice of Lady Kent herself.
Algernon immediately extended his hand to her. The woman beamed him a smile, and he squeezed her fingers rather than kiss the air above them.
Lady Kent was as carefully constructed as the chandelier above his head: elegant, expensive, and ultimately designed for the prettiest display.
Her gown was a white satin with silver embroidery that shimmered like snow.
Her cheeks were rouged in the fashionable style, and her eyes glowed with the reflection of the diamonds at her throat.
“I feared you were detained again tonight,” she said.
He had almost changed his mind about attending this party, in fact.
The lure of a cozy night by the fire, reading with Maggie, had almost held sway.
Algernon had not called on Lady Kent at home until tonight.
But he had encountered her at other places and parties, dinners and such, where they had some opportunity to speak privately together.
His conclusion: she was desperate for a proposal she’d never hear from him now.
Coming here, though, would be seen as final confirmation that his interest in the woman was fixed. Everyone around them would expect to hear of a proposal tonight or very soon afterward.
Several gentlemen glanced toward them with mild interest, no doubt already bored with the rumor mill. Lady Kent had started one herself about his reason for returning to London so late in the year.
Algernon had done very little to dissuade the speculation swirling about Town about himself. So far, no one had noticed he was keeping a woman in his town house.
“Duty,” Algernon replied. His duty to Maggie was his first concern now.
There was much to be done before they married.
He’d spent a few hours in a room at his club today, drafting terms for their marriage contract.
Tomorrow, he would continue running the Archbishop of Canterbury to ground to petition for a special license for their marriage.
He was regrettably unwell and seeing no one at present.
“I’ll never be offended by you being a little late, my dear duke,” she said sweetly, placing her gloved hand on his forearm without an invitation to do so. “I am delighted to see you at any time. London is rather dull without you.”
“I am sure you were amply entertained,” he said.
“Perhaps,” she admitted, twittering a laugh that set his teeth on edge. “But you’re here now.”
“Yes, I am,” he warned.
She tilted her head and looked at him with the coy smile of a title hunter. “What shall we do?”
He forced a smile. “For now, we make merry, but later you and I will have a little chat.”
“You are as wise as ever to hold your tongue in a full room. I do so admire your restraint when we’re in public together.”
She didn’t admire his restraint. She admired his title and the power she assumed came with it.
He had once considered her boldness a benefit for a duchess—her confidence and beauty an asset, too.
She was all things a duchess ought to be: well-connected, politically savvy.
But she was also…a void. Beneath the practiced flirtation and prettily arranged smiles, she did not see him.
Only the elevation of status he represented.
And if he had offered for her, her affections might never have been his alone, because the young man he’d met at the inn on his way to London currently circled the room in a servant’s uniform, carrying a tray of champagne and offering refreshment to his employer’s guests.
Algernon hadn’t been noticed yet, but here was the proof of scandal he feared. “Would you care for a glass of champagne, Lady Kent?”
“Indeed, I would,” she murmured in almost a purr. She glanced up at him and battered her lashes. “Shall we celebrate?”
“Not yet,” he said, as he signaled the servant over.
“Champagne for the duke,” Lady Kent informed the young man.
The poor servant only recognized Algernon at the last second. The tray shook, but no glasses fell, thankfully, as he gaped at Algernon and then tried to hide his shock.
Then they both glanced at Lady Kent, but the woman acted as if nothing was wrong with her young lover meeting the man she wanted to marry.
Algernon took two glasses from the tray and sent the fellow away with the flick of his head, as if he’d noticed nothing unpleasant. “To the future.”
“To a happy future for both of us,” she corrected.
“Indeed.” Algernon thought of life with Maggie as his wife and sighed in anticipation.
Lady Kent glanced around at her guests with a smug smile that broadcast her belief that her wishes were about to come true.
She was proudly staking her claim by clutching his arm so tightly.
And Algernon let her think she’d won his favor, but his attention remained with the servant across the room, and his stricken expression.
Algernon stood beside Lady Kent for another quarter hour before excusing himself to find something stronger to drink. It was not long before he encountered the young servant again, saw him flinch at seeing him a second time as he asked for a brandy.
After he’d safely filled the glass, Algernon murmured, “Sensible people usually take my advice.”
“I want to do that, Your Grace,” he promised.
Algernon sighed, because the poor fellow looked frankly terrified. “If that is true, present yourself at my residence tomorrow morning,” he advised. Algernon could find him a position somewhere else easily enough, even without a reference from his current employer.
The young man nodded then hurried away to continue serving others. As Algernon sipped his brandy and stared into the gold-tinged swirl in the glass, he considered what marriage to Lady Kent would have meant for him.
Her fortune would undoubtedly erase his debts and leave money in the bank for later years. It would have ended his anxiety over the viability of the estate. But a wife who dabbles with a servant was untrustworthy. Especially when it came to providing a much-wanted family and heir.
And she was no Maggie.
Maggie was real, warm, and funny.
And what would he give up, truly, if he chose Maggie instead of a wealthy bride?
The luxury of financial ease. Perhaps the support of some of his peers, his friends, in parliamentary debates.
He swirled the brandy again and took a long swallow. He would lose power. Status. Security.
But he might gain…everything that truly mattered.
“You look as if you are deciding the fate of the empire, Ravenswood,” drawled Lord Varley, a good friend, coming to stand beside him by the decanters.
“Only my corner of it,” he promised.
Varley nodded toward Lady Kent. “She’s putting on quite the show for you tonight.”
“Is she?”
“My wife was told there would be a proposal before the week is out.”
“Was she?” He glanced around the room. “I don’t see your wife among the guests tonight.”
“Dreadful headache. I told her to go to bed without me, but she’s likely waiting up to hear all the gossip when I get home from this. There’s a wager at White’s I’d like to win, by the way. It’s up to ten thousand pounds. It’s about you and her and wedding bells.”
Algernon couldn’t keep the scowl from his face.
Varley grinned heartlessly. “My wife tells me our hostess can spend the better part of an hour saying how well-matched you two are without mentioning your name even once.”
Algernon shook his head. “Can she now?”
Varley poured himself a drink and gave Algernon a sidelong smirk. “You’re not one to be led about by the nose when the stink doesn’t suit you. What brings you here tonight, really?”
“That is an excellent question.” He smiled but did not mention the scandalous affair involving Lady Kent and a servant that was playing out in this very room. “Oh, by the way, you’ll be pleased to know we are officially neighbors.”
Varley’s brows rose. “Don’t tell me you found the deed to the town house next door to me?”
“It was found for me,” he answered, thinking of his great luck in having Maggie in his home still. “Now I must decide what to do with it.”
“Do with it? Would you sell it to me?”
“If the price was high enough, I would.” A property not entailed was a transient possession for a peer.
Varley nodded quickly. “I could be very generous indeed if it solves my immediate problem. My wife insists that her mother live with us in London, now that she’s getting on in years. Imagine two wives trying to run the same household.”
“And you’d rather have her in her own house,” Algernon guessed, understanding in an instant. “I guess that explains your wife’s headache.”