Chapter 6 #2
“With the adults.” She drew his attention to the end of the third dining table where the youths sat next to each other.
“Astonishing,” he said again. “And where shall I sit?”
“Why, wherever you prefer, Your Grace.”
“I can sit next to you?”
“If you wish it.”
Did he wish it? Don’t be a fool! he thought to himself. He nodded and was pleased to see Dahlia smile.
The food was delicious, the talk easy. On his other side was the wife of Dahlia’s older cousin, Katherine, who, at first, mostly talked about her husband and children but soon proved to be an entertaining conversationalist.
“Of course, I met my Randolph during my first season. Papa had not yet wanted to accept his offer; he wanted me to wait another year, just so I could be sure, he said.”
“That was wise of your father,” Peter said.
“Our feelings proved to be constant though; we married after my second season.”
“My belated best wishes, Madam.”
“Thank you, Your Grace. It was the most natural thing in the world for Randolph and me to be together. But then again, I’m sure you’ve noticed that love matches seem to be the natural thing in this family.”
“It is impossible not to notice.”
“When I married into this family, I could hardly believe the love stories they told me. Your Grace will not believe them as well.”
“Are they so improbable then?”
“The word is romantic. Truly, they are. I hesitate to tell you for fear that you will think me a fanciful female or worse—that I made them up.”
Despite himself, Peter found himself curious.
“Tell me the most extravagant one if you please, Madam.”
“So long as it is you who asked, Your Grace.” Katherine continued to tell a story of pirates and kidnapping and of the lady riding horseback to meet the gentleman whom she had thought was dead. “They married as soon as they reached London.”
Peter scoffed in disbelief.
“I warned you, Your Grace.”
“That cannot possibly be true.”
“Are you telling His Grace of the Pirate Love Story?” Dahlia inquired, amused when she overheard Peter’s reaction.
“He will not believe me. And I had not expected him to truly.”
“Who would believe that that story is not a work of fiction?” Peter said almost laughing.
“Well, we tell you, it is true!” Dahlia said. “The kidnapping and the rescue were in the newspapers. The family still has a copy of it somewhere.”
Peter frowned.
“No.” he said but not with the same conviction as a few moments ago.
“Show His Grace after dinner, Dahlia.”
“I think I shall, thank you, Cousin Katherine.” She grinned.
They sat to what, in Peter’s opinion, was the most interesting meal of his life.
He observed everything. People indeed sat wherever they wanted, some called to others to join them, some moved places so often that Peter had to wonder how they ever got to finishing the meal.
He felt like he was in another time, in another place.
This dynamic confused him even as it amazed him.
“The married couples sit next to each other,” he noted.
Dahlia nodded in reply.
Now that he thought about it, throughout the evening, they had stayed close to their spouses as well.
During the start of dessert, one of Dahlia’s aunts and uncles, he forgot the couple’s names, had become so amorous towards each other that Dahlia’s face turned red. She engaged him in mindless conversation that ended only when the couple had stopped.
They are a family that marry for love.
He finally believed it. Even the Pirate Story. And then it all made sense to him now. Dahlia’s talk of finding and marrying the one. She wanted what she grew up surrounded with. She wanted a love match of her own.
The conversation and activity that Peter found amusing mere moments ago suddenly felt too loud and excessive. There was a wringing in his ears. The evening became overwhelming for him. He felt the air thin. He wanted to loosen his cravat.
When dinner ended, the usual custom of the men and women separating was not followed as well. No longer surprised by this deviance, Peter sat in the same sitting room, surrounded once again by a myriad of Dahlia’s relatives.
Jocelyn and Lillian, as he remembered them, sat nearby, and both listened intently as their mothers asked Dahlia to confirm the details of her rescue by the Duke.
“Was it really three hijackers? Such a frightening experience that must have been!”
“No, there was only one hijacker.”
“The carriage nearly toppled over I heard.”
“At one point it almost did, yes.”
“Did His Grace really carry you out of the carriage? You probably fainted, Dahlia, I know I would have had it been me!” Jocelyn asked, carried away by the excitement of the reliving.
“As a matter of fact, I did not faint, cousin!”
“Then why did His Grace have to carry you? Where you injured?” Lillian added.
“I was not injured. And I was never carried anywhere, thank you!”
Dahliah’s thoughts suddenly went to the morning in Hyde Park, so the blush that lit her face did not help in convincing her cousin otherwise.
“I think you were. How romantic!”
“Are we talking about Dahlia’s rescue?” More family members flocked around them as they heard the conversation.
“I heard people saying that you must have secretly been in love and that His Grace had been following you secretly to make sure you were safe; that’s why he was there when the hijackers attacked.”
“What? Where did you hear that?” Dahlia asked indignantly.
More voices, a mix of male and female this time.
“I also heard that your novels were meant as a secret code to—”
“How many children do you want—”
“So romantic! In your next novel—”
“Wait! Wait!” Dahlia fairly shouted.
“We thought it would never happen for you, Dahlia, dear, so glad that—”
“Now you will no longer be the only unmarried—”
Peter’s face became an unreadable mask even as Dahlia looked to him with an unnamable expression. Horror? Pleading? What did she need?