Chapter 11
Chapter Eleven
The next afternoon, Marie sat across from Lord Monheim in the drawing room as the two played cards. Though Miss Parson chaperoned, she stood off to the side of the room so as not to interfere with the visit.
Lord Monheim took a sip of his tea as he examined the cards in his hand. “Did you have a pleasant evening at Mr. Robinson’s ball?”
“Yes, I suppose so.”
He arched an eyebrow. “You aren’t sure?”
She offered him an apologetic smile. “All balls are the same. People dance, they drink, they talk.” She shrugged. “After a while, I can’t tell the difference from one ball to the next.”
“When you put it that way, they sound dull.”
Her face warmed. Did that mean she was dull because she didn’t enjoy them as much as others did?
“However, you are correct.” He placed a card down. “All balls are pretty much the same. The only thing that makes any ball memorable are the people in attendance.” He gave her a wink.
She jerked back a bit. Was he flirting with her? No, that couldn’t be. He probably just had to blink something out of his eye. It was impossible that a gentleman would flirt with her.
It was impossible that a gentleman would flirt with her other self. She was a new Marie now, and this new Marie appealed to gentlemen.
She felt her skin warm all over. It was rather nice to have someone flirt with her.
Feeling a bit shy, she selected a card from the deck.
She studied the cards in her possession, but try as she might, she was too aware of the fact that Lord Monheim was watching her to fully comprehend what was in her hand.
“What is your opinion about dinner parties?” Lord Monheim asked.
“You want to know what I think about dinner parties?”
He chuckled. “I wouldn’t have asked if I didn’t want to know.”
Her skin grew warmer. “Oh, um… I never really thought about them before.”
“You’ve given the balls plenty of thought.”
“Yes.” But she had been to a lot of those.
She had not, however, been asked to attend many dinner parties.
The ones she had attended had been with her father.
They hadn’t been anything like the one Richard hosted where the purpose was to help establish romantic connections with others.
She paused as she thought over Richard’s dinner party.
“I enjoyed it. It’s much easier to get to know people when you’re in a small group. ”
“You only say that because you don’t have a room full of gentlemen seeking your attention.” He winked at her again.
For the life of her, she didn’t know how to properly respond to such an overt gesture of affection. Why hadn’t she thought to ask someone what to do in a case like this?
You never thought to ask because you never dreamed a gentleman would do this to you.
She tapped the cards in her hands. This was incredibly awkward. Should she wink back? Should she giggle? Should she make eye contact and smile? Just what, exactly, was the best way to handle this?
Thankfully, Lord Monheim saved her from having to make a guess since he selected another card from the deck and said, “I would like to host a dinner party. If I extended an invitation to you, would you come?”
“Who else will be there?”
“Does it matter?”
“Well, it would be nice if I knew one of the guests in attendance.”
“You know me,” he pointed out.
She hesitated to respond. He was right, of course. Yes, she did know him. But… “Oh, I meant a lady that I know, someone like Lady Diane or Miss Cornerstone.” Recalling Brooke, she hurried to add, “Maybe even Miss McCord.”
He seemed relieved. “So you would like one of your friends to be there. Then you have someone you know when the ladies and gentlemen separate after dinner.”
“Yes, that’s right.”
His face broke into a wide smile. “Then I shall invite one of your friends as well.”
Marie turned so that the Duke of Carlisle and Lord Gilbert didn’t see her yawn.
The two had been talking about the “notable” people of London for a good two hours now.
All the tea in the world was having trouble keeping her awake, and she was too stuffed with crumpets and tarts to eat anything else to distract her from their tedious talk.
She didn’t know why Lord Gilbert had even bothered to ask to see her.
She wasn’t necessary. His Grace had no trouble keeping up his end of the conversation.
For all intents and purposes, she was nothing but a pretty decoration.
“You can’t let Lord Cadwalader intimidate you,” His Grace told Lord Gilbert.
“Why, it only took a couple of months after my marriage to realize his callousness is only on the surface. He doesn’t want to waste his time, you understand.
So many people want to be associated with him, and he’s only one person.
” His Grace sat back in his chair and clasped his hands in his lap.
“His wife is the same way. So many people misunderstand her, too.”
Marie would have to argue that one. She did agree that Lord Cadwalader wasn’t so bad when one got a chance to actually speak with him, but his wife… Well, she had a way of making someone feel inferior no matter how much a person tried to get into her good graces.
“I’ve had an opportunity to talk to Lord Edon, and he says otherwise,” Lord Gilbert said. “He says London has a witch, and she goes by the title Lady Cadwalader.”
Undeterred by the comment, His Grace chuckled. “And you would take the word of someone like Lord Edon?”
Lord Gilbert paused for a moment then relaxed. “I suppose not. He’s not one of the Ton’s finest.”
“No, he’s not, and that is why you can’t believe him. Lady Cadwalader is a lovely lady. She welcomed me into her family the day I wed my wife. I’ve never lacked for anything because of her and her husband.”
Lord Gilbert seemed happy at this announcement, and it was at that moment Marie understood he would marry her simply for her connection to the Cadwaladers. The marriage would be no more personal to him than the Duke of Carlisle’s marriage had been to the lady who’d been her mother in this life.
Marie wondered if she would be forced to marry him. Her real father would never do that. It wasn’t his way to force anything on her. But she had no such assurance with the Duke of Carlisle.
Thankfully, the subject of marriage did not come up for the remainder of Lord Gilbert’s visit. He did express an interest in seeing her again, to which the Duke of Carlisle was delighted. While upsetting, Marie wasn’t surprised.
Marie waited until she was alone in her bedchamber with Miss Parson before voicing her concerns.
“Do you think my father will make me marry someone, or will he leave that decision up to me?” she asked as Miss Parson took the pins out of her hair.
“You have quite a few gentlemen vying to be a suitor,” Miss Parson replied.
“I doubt your father will have to intervene. You will go with your father to a dinner party at the Duke of Lundt’s residence this evening.
His son will be your escort. Lord Noel will visit on Thursday, and the Duke of Hashboro will visit on Friday.
Lord Tammeron will be here Saturday around noon, followed by Lord Efferson at three.
The only day this week that you’ll get a reprieve from your ardent suitors is tomorrow when you’re expected at Lady Diane’s tea party. ”
Marie closed her eyes and willed the world to stop spinning around her. How was she supposed to keep track of everything and everyone who wanted to spend time with her? She was beginning to miss the pleasure of having an entire day to simply walk in the park and read a book.
“Will life always be like this, or am I just overwhelmed because I’m in my Season?” Marie asked.
“Aren’t all ladies busy in their Season?”
Though Miss Parson’s tone was gentle, the question startled her.
The answer was no. All ladies were not busy when they were looking for a husband.
She was busy because she had gentlemen lining up to court her.
Tove had arranged this for her. In her other life, she’d had all the time in the world to do whatever she’d wanted since none of the gentlemen wished to visit her.
Back then, she had assumed that ladies who were pursued by a lot of gentlemen were enjoying each and every moment of their days.
She hadn’t realized how exhausting the whole thing was.
All of the gentlemen were starting to merge together as one entity in her mind.
She had to be careful to keep a mental record of the conversations she was having with each of them.
“I suppose it can be overwhelming,” Miss Parson began as she brushed Marie’s hair, “but is there a gentleman who’s caught your eye?”
Marie thought over all of the gentlemen she’d recently met.
She frowned. The only one who seemed to stand out was Edward.
Certainly, that wasn’t because of Edward himself.
She only noticed him because she had been betrothed to him in her other life.
Any lady would remember a gentleman under that circumstance.
If she hadn’t known him from her other life, she wouldn’t have noticed him in this one. So he didn’t count, right?
Marie offered a shrug. “All of my suitors seem the same to me.”
“In that case, maybe it doesn’t matter who you marry,” Miss Parson replied.
The lady was wrong. It did matter. It had to matter. The only reason Marie was testing out this new life was that choosing the right person was important. It just might be the most important decision she’d ever make.
Miss Parson gave her shoulder a gentle pat. “It’ll be all right. Don’t you worry. Everything will work out.”
Marie released her breath. She could only hope Miss Parson was right.