Chapter Nine #2
Nervous laughter sounded from a handful of ladies. The women shifted uncomfortably in their seats, their eyes darting to Jasmine’s mother and father, who merely watched the events unfold.
Matthew raised his glass to both of them at the head of the table. “For example—I’m sure that none would argue that our hostess, Lady Dorchester, is the most intelligent person in the room.”
“Flattery will get you nowhere, Lord Lincolnshire,” her mother admonished, but then winked at the rest of the guests. “But I do so love to hear it.”
Matthew sipped his champagne and spoke to the table at large. “Don’t let their pretty faces fool you. In particular, Lady Jasmine possesses a quick wit. Just this afternoon she taught me the Spanish word for friend.”
Jasmine’s face heated as his eyes met hers across the table. His face gentled. As if he were discussing the news over his breakfast table, he asked, “Lady Jasmine, you’ve lived in both Spain and England. What is your opinion on the subject?”
All eyes focused on her, and the room silenced.
Jasmine fidgeted with her gloves under the table. For a long moment, she considered her response.
“If I understand the question, Lord Lincolnshire, you’re asking my opinion on whether Spain should buy weapons from your company?” Jasmine asked. Matthew nodded and waited for her to continue. “My simple answer is no, Lord Lincolnshire.”
“And your complicated answer?” Grinning at her, he teased, “As a businessman and a craftsman, I appreciate knowing where I’m lacking.”
“It has nothing to do with you or your business, but your product.” Eased into a friendly debate, Jasmine continued, “I don’t believe any country should purchase weapons at all.
As nations, we must do better to prevent bloodshed.
Both countries have experienced great losses, with thousands of soldiers returning home wounded, if at all.
Not only every battle, but every life lost is a tragedy. ”
“Exactamente, Lady Jasmine.” The corner of Matthew’s mouth lifted with the flash of a smile. “See? Much more intelligent than I.”
Her heart fluttered with the warmth and pride in his eyes.
Then, the whispers started.
Her rush of happiness vanished when her eyes left his.
Several occupants of the table stared at her with their mouths agape.
A pale shade of horror graced several ladies’ faces.
At the head of the table, the fire in her mother’s intense appraisal could have warmed London for an entire winter, balanced by her father’s cool indifference.
Jasmine didn’t know which hurt worse.
After a moment of stunned silence, Lord Stretton guffawed. “You’re right, Lord Lincolnshire, there is a brain in there, with more sentimentality than sense!”
A chain reaction of laughter rumbled the table, and all Jasmine wanted to do was crawl into a hole and hide. Turning red up to her ears, she bit the inside of her cheek and stared down at her plate. The lamb blurred into a grey blob as her eyes watered. Blinking hard, she reminded herself to smile.
“I can see that the rumor of his ruthlessness is true,” Don Lorenzo said with an impressed air. If he had a quill, he would have taken notes.
“I hope you have learned your lesson,” Lord Rothwell said to Jasmine. “You would do well to reconsider your friendships.”
That was it. Jasmine would follow her mother’s advice and remain silent for the rest of the meal. Then she would go to the wine cellar, open up her mother’s oldest bottle of amontillado, and get drunk.
Dinner couldn’t end fast enough.
***
Curse it all, Matthew had bungled it again.
Had her answer come from any of the gentlemen in the room, it might have gotten firm approval.
Jasmine slumped in her chair—with her starred suitors sitting next to her. That was Don Lorenzo? That pompous cad earned a star on Lady Dorchester’s list? And Matthew had never met a gentleman more worthless than Lord Rothwell.
Matthew wanted to storm out of the room with Jasmine in tow—reputations and rules be damned. He couldn’t stomach her mistreatment. His fists clenched, and he reminded himself that he was a gentleman.
And gentlemen control themselves.
Lady Dorchester spoke to her guests. “Lord Rothwell is right. Perhaps the gentlemen should save this conversation for another time. There are plenty of genteel topics to discuss. How did everyone enjoy the museum today?”
As conversation resumed, Matthew drowned out the sound, focusing instead on Jasmine’s strained smile and the tremor in her shoulders.
The men next to her talked to her, but she didn’t respond except with polite nods and the occasional shake of her head.
Aside from taking small bites of her food, her mouth didn’t move for the rest of the meal.
After the last dish was served, Lady Dorchester ushered everyone out of the dining room.
“Ladies, come with me to the ballroom, and we’ll have dancing. Gentlemen, if you would prefer, you may retire with my husband for cards and cigars. The best port has been provided.” She gestured wide and opened her arms to Jasmine. “Darling, let’s lead the way.”
Jasmine gave one sharp shake of her head. Prodding gently, Lady Dorchester said, “Come with me, Jasmine.”
“I’m not dancing.” Jasmine turned and walked in the opposite direction. “I’m retiring for the evening.”
Lady Dorchester called out, “Jasmine! Come back here!”
Jasmine didn’t answer her. She rushed down the hall, holding her skirts in her fists. With a stomp, she turned a corner and disappeared. The guests looked around and whispered under their breaths.
Lady Dorchester recovered with a smile. “She is weary from travel, the poor dear. I’m afraid all of this excitement is too much for her. We’ll allow her to rest.” She gestured to the door. “Please, follow me.”
As the guests shuffled out, Matthew stayed behind and considered his next move. What he did now mattered more than any other decision in his life.
He considered the facts.
Jasmine was alone, and he knew exactly where she would go. Lady Dorchester would eventually send someone to find her, and he had limited time. His chances of marrying Jasmine were slim, if not zero. He could lose her forever, or stop being a coward and act for once.
Lady Dorchester openly disapproved of him, and there would be no persuading her otherwise. He would have to ask Lord Dorchester for forgiveness because he couldn’t risk a refusal. There was only one way Matthew could marry Lady Jasmine Sinclair.
He needed to compromise her.
Properly this time.
With that thought in mind, he followed Jasmine down the hall.