Chapter 3 #2
“Too complex for a tiny female brain?”
Dominic might not have been raised with many women but he knew better than to try answering that question. “I can reassure you that his actions were not made lightly. It was a practical suggestion, this match. It should be agreeable.”
“Not to me.” Her bold gaze met his as she said those words. He nearly stumbled, caught by her stubbornness. “I’ve little interest in this marriage and while I live my life by strict principles, I never sought a purely practical marriage.”
“Then what is it you seek in a marriage?”
Her mouth opened and closed. She didn’t know, he realized.
The way her lips curved inward and downward proved that.
While she sorted through her thoughts, he took a moment to watch her during the dance.
She was a fine dancer and had yet to step on his toes though part of him felt reassured she would dearly love to do just that.
“Why?” She demanded.
The song ended and they stopped. It had flown by too quickly. A glance around the other dancers, breathless and cheerful as they moved about, proved time had flown by.
Though they were meant for another dance, Dominic pulled her off to the side. “Why what?”
“Why would my brother seek to arrange a match for me when he has never done so before, doing this without my input, to a lord I hardly know?”
Anyone who might accuse her of having a tiny brain is surely bound for a good wallop. I hardly dare dance with her again lest she topple me right over.
He hesitated before he answered, unable to hide his discomfort, “Because it is time we both wed.”
“That’s nonsense. I…” Her grip on his arm tightened just a pinch as she noticed something beyond him. The way her gaze shifted to something more intriguing, where her eyes gleamed, had him wondering what had happened.
Dominic looked. Tall enough to see over half the crowd, he noted some papers were quietly being passed around. Small booklets of paper. Whispers went around.
“What is this?” He mumbled under his breath.
It was a question meant for himself, but Verity answered. “I believe it appears to be a magazine. Hardly important or timely for a ball. Unless, of course, it was published in the evening instead of the morning.”
I suppose that is possible. But why would anyone do such a thing? Unless it carries a focus on scandal. Someone might be seeking to disrupt tonight’s ball.
“I should return you to your family,” Dominic decided.
“No, no, not yet. Shall we… dance again?”
He stared at her for a long moment as he wondered if this was some sort of trick. But when she didn’t crack a smile or a jest, he chose to take her question as genuine. “Very well. The musicians are turning for another that we might enjoy.”
As the two of them returned to the edge of the dance floor, others seemed to watch them. He straightened up and was prepared to ask Verity a question when someone passed by with a spare magazine for them.
“It’s free tonight. The London Grey Truth,” the lady whispered excitedly, her shoulders shaking. “Someone delivered them only moments ago! Can you imagine? Your Grace, you are mentioned here.”
Dominic grudgingly accepted it as the lady took off to join her other friends through the crowd, spreading out the magazine. He read them on occasion but preferred accuracy above all else. So he offered it to Verity.
“Thank you, but I don’t read them,” she told him. “But you may.”
There was that almost smile. Dominic nodded slowly before deciding to look the magazine over. Just another wrinkled gossip rag. He paused before reading, glancing at Verity in case she might change her mind.
Only she appeared to have forgotten him. Hands clasped in front of her, she turned slowly about to take in every sight. She was observant, curious, and studying everyone’s faces more than the actual magazines.
Why does that feel so strange to me? And surely, she is interested, but only doesn’t wish to appear that way. To impress me or to impress someone else? I suppose it doesn’t particularly matter.
Eventually he looked the magazine over. The voice was sharp. Extremely precise for someone providing observations. It wasn’t particularly distracting content, but still fairly riveting and laid out in a clean matter like any other newspaper.
“Oh dear!” An older woman dropped the magazine in a ball on the ground, crushed, before hastening off.
“What has Lady Belvedere done this time?” Verity whispered.
His eyes found the name on the next page. She was having an affair with her gardener, apparently. How someone had discovered that, Dominic couldn’t imagine. And what did Verity know of the lady?
“Were you friends?”
“Hm? Oh, no. No, I’ve never met her,” she answered.
It was an odd statement to make so soon after her other comment. Was gossip just as prevalent in the retiring room? Dominic considered Verity’s calm composure, wondering how she couldn’t have a hint of curiosity in herself right now.
Perhaps she knows something. How or what, however, I couldn’t imagine.
Then Dominic caught his name. It was only two lines, one sentence, noting confirmation that prior rumors were true: he is indeed on the market looking for a wife.
Though annoyed, he was relieved to find it was nothing more.
He tucked it away into his pocket before turning back to Verity as the music picked up.
“A second dance then, my lady?”
“Hm? Oh. Oh, yes, very well.”
Verity accepted the dance but she was less focused on him now, more interested in the people around them. Seeing her crane her neck toward the talkative Duchess of Hardington, Duke wondered if this dance was worth their time.
“We can stop if you like,” he reminded her. “You can read my copy.”
“No, but thank you.” For all she showed clear interest in everyone’s reactions, she paid little mind to even glancing at the paper in his pocket.
Dominic let it go for now. The answers would come eventually, he was certain. His years had taught him patience. Determined never to be like his father, the prior duke, who carried control over his people and domain in a tight fist, Dominic would let the truth reach him eventually.
Whether they had crossed paths before this month, he couldn’t say. All he had known was her name with a few sparse details from several months ago. Dominic wondered what else he needed to know of her.
By all accounts, Verity Ashbourne is a proper young lady of veritable skill and good breeding. Her sharp tongue could not have been accounted for, but I hear her now.
“Very well.”
Dominic dropped their hands slowly as the song ended. His eyes studied hers to understand her intentions. “You have reached a conclusion?”
“I accept your offer. Not that you particularly made one,” she added pointedly, “but I will accept this marriage.”
There was no denying the satisfaction that spread warmly through Dominic’s veins. His chin lifted slightly as he studied her. What he would pay for an inkling of her thoughts.
But then he reminded himself that it didn’t matter. Verity would make a proper wife as far as he could tell. There was safety in this action, and he was prepared to handle what risks remained.
Through all of this, I am confident we shall conclude with what each of us want and need at this point in time. The sooner we can have the matter sorted, the better. I’m only surprised Verity isn’t asking more questions now or arguing. What made her accept my suit?
Dominic decided not to ask her. Not now, at least. Not until they understood each other a little better.
Apprehension filled his guts while he wrestled for any emotions of joy or happiness. There was that relief at having a wife in hand now. And Verity would do well. He certainly carried some curiosity toward the lady. But whatever came next, he couldn’t be certain. Not yet.
“I’m glad to hear it,” he responded with his calmest manner. “I shall set the date forthwith and have the contract drawn up with your brother.”
“All right. That is good.”
“Good.” They stared at one another before he caught himself and offered an arm. “Shall I return you to your sisters so you might spread the joyful news?”
Her eyebrow raised in amusement. “Joyful, indeed.”
Verity accepted his arm and away they went.