Chapter Thirteen
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James could sense a pending disaster from the moment they arrived at Falstone House.
Her Grace had invited his family to a small gathering but two days after the family dinner.
Mother had spent the short carriage ride in noticeable discomfort.
Ben had spent it in utter silence. Father’s expression bordered on giddy.
This farcical courtship was supposed to have been undertaken for the sake of the entire family.
Only Father appeared remotely happy about any of it.
They were ushered inside by a very correct butler and greeted civilly, if briefly, by the Duchess of Kielder. The Dangerous Duke eyed James with what could only be termed disapproval.
James saw his mother seated comfortably at just the right distance from the very low-burning fire, which also fortuitously happened to be outside of the conversational circles of any of the other guests. That, as much as the warmth, would secure Mother’s comfort to the greatest degree possible.
“Is there anything I can get for you, Mother? Anything you need?”
“No. We are here and must simply make the best of whatever treatment we are subjected to.” Mother’s eyes darted about as if expecting an ax-wielding murderer to jump out at any moment. “We must make every effort to put our best foot forward.”
And by we, Mother meant you. James knew she did not mean to burden him, but so many responsibilities invariably fell on his shoulders.
He offered a bow of acknowledgment and turned to face the room.
He would mingle with the other guests and do his duty by Miss Lancaster, but someone ought to stay near Mother to see to it she held up under the weight of her fears.
He spotted Ben not too far distant speaking to Miss Lancaster. Theirs appeared to be quite an involved conversation considering it could not have been going on for more than a few minutes.
He would begin there. Miss Lancaster must be given at least a moment of his attention—just as soon as he saw to Mother.
“Miss Lancaster,” he greeted as he reached them. “Forgive the interruption. Might I steal Ben away a moment?”
That touch of pink he so often saw colored her cheeks once more. “If you promise not to drop him on his head. The poor man is only just beginning to make sensible conversation.”
James smiled at the teasing remark. He noticed Ben did as well.
For a man who had been quite firmly set against Miss Lancaster, Ben had grown noticeably friendlier to her.
Somehow the timid Miss Lancaster was making friends.
His first conversation about her with Father as well as his earliest interactions with her had very nearly convinced him she needed to be guided through Society with kid gloves. He was pleased to be wrong.
He pulled Ben a bit away. “Will you sit with Mother a moment?”
Ben nodded his agreement but only after a backward glance in Miss Lancaster’s direction. Why did he have such a sudden interest in the young lady?
“What were you and Miss Lancaster speaking of?” James asked.
“Agriculture.”
Agriculture? “I thought you a better conversationalist than that. I no longer wonder at how very unattached you are.”
“She initiated the discussion,” Ben said. “She asked how far distant my estate was, and when I told her I lived in northeastern Lancashire, she surmised that I likely raise sheep.”
A very insightful conclusion, to be sure.
“We were discussing the benefits of raising sheep for wool versus meat.”
“And does that not strike you as an odd topic of conversation with a young lady at a high-society soiree?”
Ben didn’t seem the least put off the topic. “She said her brother-in-law turned around his estate, which had been in a state of ruin for decades, in only six years, and his primary commodity is sheep.”
James could see the interest in his brother’s eyes.
Ben had been attempting to turn a profit at his estate but had done so with very little direction and absolutely no experience.
He felt his own heart thud a bit with hopeful anticipation.
“And Miss Lancaster said her brother-in-law found success with sheep?”
Ben nodded, a distant expression on his face. “I wish I knew Mr. Windover. I would write and ask him precisely what he did.”
James did not know the gentleman either. How frustrating to be so close to a means of assisting his brother and yet be entirely unable to do so.
“I will sit with Mother, as you requested,” Ben said, a warning in his tone. “You, brother, have a crisis to avert.” He motioned subtly with a nod of his head just over James’s shoulder.
James looked back and watched in growing alarm as his father approached the formidable Duke of Kielder. That would not end well. He moved as swiftly as decorum would allow, reaching the duke just as his father did.
“Well met, Kielder,” Father greeted quite as if they were old chums.
Several other guests turned, shocked. Worried expressions landed on the two of them. His Grace eyed Father much as one would a small child wiping his sweets-stained hands all over one’s best pair of breeches.
James recognized the faux pax, even if Father didn’t. “You assume a great deal in your casual greeting, sir,” James said under his breath. He didn’t wish to publicly scold his sire but couldn’t help feeling the situation would only grow worse if he didn’t do something.
“Nonsense, my boy. Two evenings spent with our families in company with one another has made the two of us friends.”
Oh, good heavens. Several nearby guests were openly staring.
“I do not have friends,” the duke said calmly. “Those who believe otherwise are delusional.” He shot a glare at those eavesdropping on the uncomfortable encounter, sending every last one of them scurrying away, excepting James and his father.
“I understand,” Father said, giving the duke a conspiratorial look.
“You wish to keep the connection between our families something of a secret until things are more settled. You needn’t worry on that account.
I’ll not make anything public until the boy, here, comes up to scratch.
And he will. I can promise you that, Your Grace. ”
If it were possible to die of horrified embarrassment, James would have in that moment.
The duke’s gaze was captured by something a bit off to the side. “It seems I have an annoyance to deal with.” His eyes darted to Father. “Another one. You”—he skewered Father with a look—“stay here. And you”—his gaze moved to James—“walk with me.”
One did not ignore a dictate from the Dastardly Duke.
One also did not annoy him with impunity.
Once again James was left to protect his family from the stupidity of his father.
He walked beside the duke, growing ever more unnerved as he watched the gathered attendees part at his approach with expressions bordering on terrified.
“I am sorry for my father’s presumptuousness,” he said. “He is—”
“I know full well what your father is.” Clearly the duke didn’t consider the acquaintance a pleasant one. “You are the one I am still attempting to sort out.”
James’s liver shouted out for help in that moment, the duke’s well-remembered promise about eating that vital organ still fresh in James’s mind.
A small cluster of guests didn’t move out of the duke’s path as quickly as the others. His Grace eyed them only a fraction of a moment, long enough for his message to be clear. They scurried away with the speed of birds on the wind.
“How are you at fisticuffs?” the duke asked.
After a momentary sputter, James managed a reply. “I’ve never bested Gentleman Jackson. I have never come close, truth be told, though he says I’ve improved a great deal over the past few years.”
“An honest answer. How refreshing.”
It was perhaps the most honest thing he’d said to any member of the duke’s family over the past fortnight. “Are my abysmal skills in that arena about to be called upon?”
“Most gentlemen would have posed that question in terrified tones rather than merely curious ones,” the duke said.
“I am acting under the assumption that if you intended to beat me to a mangled pulp,” James said, “you would simply do so without taking the time to warn me first.” That seemed more the duke’s style.
His Grace made a brief sound of pondering.
“That is a far more intelligent observation than most gentlemen ever manage. I find, despite all of my expectations to the contrary, you are not entirely unbearable.” They had reached the far side of the drawing room.
The duke motioned ahead of them. “Mr. Finley has been monopolizing my sister-in-law’s attention for a full five minutes, something she doesn’t appear to appreciate.
I suggest we dispatch him with all due haste. ”
“And you wish me to employ my pathetic boxing skills?”
“Would you if I asked?”
Knowing the duke preferred an honest answer, James gave him one.
“I cannot like the thought of anyone being permitted to disconcert Miss Lancaster. What I know of her tells me she is worthy of far better treatment. Though I am not in a position to take up her cause, I will certainly aid you in doing so, though a bout with my fists is more likely to break my nose than save the day.”
The duke nodded in what might have been hesitant approval. “Then, Tilburn, let me show you how it is done.”
He approached Mr. Finley from behind, slowly, silently.
“My cronies and I have heard sums exceeding ￡35,000,” Mr. Finley was saying to Miss Lancaster.
“Your brother-in-law has all of London terrified to so much as speak to you and yet, if rumor is to be believed, wishes to have you married off by Season’s end, necessitating an increase in your dowry.
If such is true, I should very much like to know.
Any number of us would make a go of it for that amount of money. ”
What a pompous, insufferable jackanapes. To say such a thing to a young lady was absolutely unforgivable.