Chapter 6
Six
F or the second time in as many weeks, Dev could not stop thinking about someone he’d had a passing encounter with.
He’d danced with over a dozen eager young ladies, half of them at his mother’s insistence, at the ball, but not one of them had left as much of a lasting impression on him as Miss Kitty Dryden.
“Was it her conversation that captivated you?” James asked as the two of them strolled together through Hyde Park two days after the ball.
“Not particularly,” Dev confessed. “She was shy, almost as if she was afraid to say too much, lest I judge her in some manner.”
“Not her conversation, then,” James said, sending him a sideways smirk. “Was she an accomplished dancer?”
“Not at all,” Dev laughed. “She knew the steps of the dance well enough, but she led with the wrong foot more often than not and continually attempted to turn in the opposite direction.”
“Green, then,” James said as they dodged around a pair of nannies pushing their charges in prams. “Unused to public dances.”
Dev shrugged and winced. “Perhaps. She did say that she was not as experienced with dancing as she should have been, which surprised me.”
“How so?” James asked.
“She did not appear to be freshly out in society,” Dev explained the theories he’d been ruminating about since the night before last. “If I had to guess her age, I would place it at around five-and-twenty.”
“So you deduce she should have been out in society for long enough to learn the steps of common dances?”
“Precisely,” Dev said. He frowned and rubbed his chin as they walked on. “I did not find her silly or vacant, like some of the other women Mother forced me to stand up with. Miss Dryden had a look of intelligence in her eyes.”
James laughed. “I remember those days all too well,” he said. “Why our mother would think that any of us would want to marry a woman without any natural intelligence always escaped me.”
Dev laughed ironically. “Too many acquaintances of my experience wish for their ladies to be empty-headed, but I never understood why.”
“And you believe this Miss Dryden is not empty-headed?” James asked.
“No,” Dev said, frowning once more. “I would wager that she is dazzlingly intelligent. But she seemed frightened and unsure of herself.”
James grinned. “Naturally.”
Dev paused at a point in the path where it bent closer to the Serpentine. “Why would you say that?”
James’s grin grew. “Because, dear brother, it is obvious that your Miss Dryden was not invited to the ball. She obviously feared that she would be found out at any moment and summarily dismissed.”
Dev sent his brother a flat look. “She was not an interloper,” he insisted. “Channing is far too diligent in his duties as butler to allow anyone into one of Mother’s balls unless they were invited.”
“How do you know Miss Dryden entered through the front door?” James argued. “She could have snuck in through the servants’ hall.”
“She would not,” Dev scoffed, walking on. “Why would she need to? She is obviously a woman of breeding and refinement.”
“Why do you say that?” James asked, delighting in vexing Dev with the conversation a little too much.
“The way she carried herself,” Dev insisted. “The refinement of her voice. The quality of her gown. Even the scent she wore.” Dev would never forget that enticing scent. “She must come from exceptional people.”
James laughed. “She could just as easily have been an actress,” he argued. “All of that refinement could have been put on.”
“Why would an actress arrive at a ball only to dance once, with me, and then to leave shortly after?” Dev asked.
James shrugged. “She could have been studying for a part. Or she could have been there to rob you, or to rob the house.”
“Miss Dryden is no thief,” Dev insisted, though for all he knew she was. “She had an air of kindness and geniality about her.”
“You hardly spoke to her.”
Dev stopped again, turning to his brother with a touch of anger. “Do you want me to discover who my mystery lady is and how to reach her again or not? ”
James laughed harder than before. “So she’s your lady now? I never thought I’d see the day.”
Dev shook his head. “I simply wish to uncover the mystery of her identity,” he said. “And besides, haven’t you been on Mother’s side when it comes to the matter of forcing me to marry?”
“Perhaps,” James said, beaming with joviality. “I simply never expected for you to become so enamored of someone who would run from you at the first opportunity.”
“She did not run,” Dev said, frowning. “She merely…left.”
“And you cannot find her.”
“I have barely begun to look.”
The two of them resumed walking.
“What did Mother have to say about her?” James asked.
“Not much,” Dev admitted with a sigh. “When I asked for more particulars about Miss Dryden, she turned the conversation immediately to Lady Catherine Locke.”
“Ah, so Mama does have a favorite from amongst the eligible misses she plunked in your path,” James said.
“She does,” Dev said in a wary voice. It was not that he did not like Lady Catherine. The woman was lively and amusing, even though she snorted when she laughed. The fact of the matter was that she was not Miss Dryden.
“I will begin making inquiries about Miss Dryden as soon as?—”
Dev stopped and stood suddenly straighter as he spotted Lord Castleton walking swiftly toward him from much farther along the path. He did not think that the charming young earl saw him. Castleton was walking as if dogs were on his heels.
“Lord Castleton,” Dev called out, smiling, as Castleton drew nearer.
Castleton jerked to a stop as if someone had fired a cannon near him and searched around. As soon as he spotted Dev, he jerked again, then broke into a smile.
Something about that smile tickled Dev’s brain and had his heart beating faster.
“Lord Deveraux,” Castleton said, changing directions slightly so that he met up with Dev and James just off the path. “What a pleasant surprise.”
“I was just thinking the same thing,” Dev said. He pivoted to gesture to James. “You know my brother, of course. Lord Chalfont.”
“Yes, of course,” Castleton said, tipping his hat slightly.
James greeted the man in turn. “Lord Castleton,” he said, smiling.
“I missed seeing you at the ball the other night,” Dev said, remembering the other thing about the ball that had stuck with him. He’d been sorely disappointed not to see Castleton there.
“Oh. Yes. I am terribly sorry,” Castleton said, immediately flustered. “I intended to come, but, you see….” The man glanced over his shoulder as if expecting demons to be following him.
“Think nothing of it,” Dev said, pretending not to care. “The invitation was sent late at any rate.”
“It is not that,” Castleton said, turning back to him with wide eyes. “It is only that…er…I was taken ill at the last moment.”
Dev frowned slightly. He was not certain he believed the man’s excuse.
As he had worried the week before, when he’d rescued Castleton from his attacker, Dev wondered if Castleton was entirely safe.
Something might have transpired that had made him fear to leave his house. He certainly seemed to be on edge now.
“Would you care to walk with us?” he offered. “That is, if you do not have other business to attend to. ”
“No!” Castleton said too forcefully. He cleared his throat, peeked at James, and lowered his head a bit before continuing with, “That is, no, I have no other business. I should like very much to walk with you.”
When he smiled again, Dev felt as though he’d done something right.
He also felt a deeper tickle of something familiar.
“I shall leave the two of you to it,” James said, taking a step back from them, a hint of knowing in his eyes.
“Amelia wanted me to return to the house as early as possible today. She has an invitation to a tea in Queen Victoria’s honor, and for some ghastly reason, she wishes my help in deciding on a gown. ”
“Give her and the babies my best,” Dev said, sending his brother a sly look as he stepped away.
Once James was gone, Dev turned his full attention to Castleton.
“Have you been quite well since last we met, my lord?” he asked, narrowing his eyes the way his mother did when she studied someone, though his sight was perfectly unaffected.
“Yes, quite,” Castleton said breathlessly…and unconvincingly. “How…how was your mother’s ball?”
Dev gestured for Castleton to walk with him, though they ended up turning and walking back the way Dev had come, since Castleton seemed reluctant to retrace his steps.
“It was splendid,” Dev said. “Mother spent extravagantly on the decorations, the musicians, and the refreshments. Father took to his bed in agony upon seeing the bill yesterday morning.”
Castleton laughed airily, like he believed the jest to be amusing but was too anxious to fully appreciate it.
“There was no shortage of female dance partners either,” Dev continued, clasping his hands behind him as they walked. “Mother was certain to find every unattached young lady she could to dangle in front of me as incentive to marry.”
Castleton nodded and hummed, almost like he was well aware of the fact.
Dev glanced at him, eyes narrowed once more. The back of his brain prickled as if he were on the edge of touching something that would give him a spark.
“I suppose your mother is the same way, wishing you to marry and throwing young ladies into your path,” he said.
Castleton made a wry sound. “She has tried, but to no avail.”
More prickles raced through Dev. He had guessed long before that Castleton was not the marrying type, to put it gently.
That did not mean, as heir to a dukedom, that he would not be required to marry and somehow force out an heir.
Plenty of men of his proclivities had been made to do their duty to their family and their country before, and plenty would be asked to do so in the future.