Chapter 10
“Your Grace, I’m so surprised that you chose to come and sit at this end of the table,” the lady next to Nathaniel cooed. “What made you do it?”
Nathaniel was having a hard time focusing on her.
His eyes kept turning back to Dorothy, trying to make out what she was thinking.
She was frowning at him, her eyes narrowed, and he had the feeling she was displeased, but he couldn’t have said why.
Didn’t it make sense for him to be seated where they could see one another?
He turned back toward the lady who was talking to him. “I’m so sorry,” he said. “I don’t believe I caught your name.”
She giggled, obviously not offended by his ignorance, though he thought perhaps she should have been. He was fairly sure she had given her name—he’d simply missed it. “Lady Caroline,” she said, and yes, it wasn’t the first time he’d heard that. “My father is the Baron of Tipton.”
“Ah.” He’d never heard of her father. But she was pretty enough, with pale skin and dark brown eyes.
A little over-eager, he supposed, but there was nothing wrong with that.
He wanted someone who was eager, someone who would put extra energy into the task of motherhood.
“It’s lovely to meet you, Lady Caroline.
And to answer your question…” He glanced at Dorothy again.
He couldn’t help it. “I came to sit at this end of the table because I thought the company seemed more engaging than at the other end.”
Lady Caroline giggled madly, obviously thinking the compliment was meant just for her.
Dorothy, meanwhile, was scratching at the side of her neck so aggressively that in a moment someone was going to come to the conclusion that she was having an allergic reaction. He gave her a quick nod to let her know that he’d gotten the message and she desisted.
There was no point in continuing his conversation with Lady Caroline, of course—not if she wasn’t a good fit for him.
But he couldn’t just turn away and let her see that his interest had evaporated.
He offered her a smile instead. “What brings you here tonight, Lady Caroline? Are you here with a friend or a sister, perhaps?” Maybe the reason Dorothy wanted to warn him against Lady Caroline was as simple as that.
Maybe she was already married, or she had a sister who needed to marry before her.
“Oh, no,” Lady Caroline said, leaning in.
“I’m the eldest daughter in my family, and I’ll be the first to marry!
Everyone is so excited for me to meet my suitor, whoever he might turn out to be!
And I’m very excited too, of course! I just can’t wait to marry.
I’ve dreamed of it all my life, and now the time has finally come, and I’m sure it’s going to be every bit as magical as I’ve always thought it would be.
I’m going to fall in love, and I’m going to have dozens of babies…
oh, it’s all going to be so wonderful and magical, I just can’t wait! ”
She said all this very quickly, and Nathaniel understood at once what Dorothy had been warning him against. Eager was one thing, but this was something else altogether. He managed a smile for her. “I certainly hope you find the right gentleman for you,” he said. “I wish you luck in doing so.”
“Perhaps I already have.” She was cooing again, leaning very close to him indeed.
Dorothy was holding a hand over her mouth, her gaze fixed on her plate, but he could tell by the way her eyes crinkled that she was holding back a laugh.
He extricated his arm from Lady Caroline’s grasp. “Will you pardon me for just a moment,” he said, and pivoted his body so that he was facing the lady on his other side.
She was a retiring sort, he could see that at once. She was also looking down at her plate, but unlike Dorothy, she wasn’t joining in the fun by laughing at what was going on around her. She seemed entirely focused on her meal. “Good evening,” he said to her. “I don’t think we’ve been introduced.”
She glanced up at him and offered a very slight smile. “My name is Lady Isabelle,” she said. “My father is Lord Kensington.”
“Good evening, Lady Isabelle,” he said. “I’m Nathaniel Thorne, the Duke of Henshaw.”
“Yes, I know.” She blushed prettily. “I mean…I’m sorry. That was a foolish thing to say, wasn’t it?”
“I don’t think so,” he said gently. “There’s no need to waste time on introductions if you already know who I am, after all.”
She gave a little nod, but kept her eyes on her plate.
Nathaniel glanced at Dorothy.
She was smiling! Her hands were knitted together, just as she had demonstrated out in the foyer before they had come in for dinner. She was signaling to him that she approved of this choice! So now all he needed to do was…
His heart sank.
What was he supposed to do? What did a man do when he had identified a lady he was interested in courting? What was the next step here? He was startled to realize that he didn’t know the answer.
At least Lady Isabelle didn’t seem to expect anything of him. She was sipping her wine and staring out the window right ahead of her, and she seemed very far away all of a sudden.
If I want to speak to her, I must pull her back. I have to show her that I’m interested in furthering our conversation. But how?
Was it possible that he had misread the situation?
Maybe she wasn’t available for courtship.
Maybe she was the one who was here with an elder sister who would have to marry before she became available…
but no, that didn’t make any sense, because Dorothy had signaled him that she would be a good choice.
Dorothy was reliable. She knew all there was to know about all the ladies of society.
If she said Lady Isabelle was someone worth pursuing then it was the truth.
He opened his mouth to say something else, to try to recapture her attention—but Lady Caroline had put a hand on his arm and was speaking to him again. “So, Your Grace,” she was saying, “I haven’t seen you at many of this season’s events. What brings you out today?”
“Well…that’s odd,” he managed. “I’ve been at several balls. I’m not sure why you and I haven’t seen one another.”
He knew what Jonathan would say, of course.
You don’t see anyone if you spend all your time holed up in libraries.
And his friend would be right—but this wasn’t exactly a strong case to do otherwise.
He didn’t find himself wishing that he had spent more time with the ladies of the ton before now, for if he had, he would no doubt have crossed paths with Lady Caroline, and she would have forced her company upon him.
And without Dorothy to steer him right, he wouldn’t have known he was making a mistake by accepting her company.
He might even have found himself committing to a courtship with her.
The thought was ghastly. Thank heavens I found Dorothy when I did, and that I have her help in these matters!
He looked over at her, hoping to signal his gratitude in some way—even if only by the expression on his face.
But she wasn’t looking at him. Her jaw was clenched and she was staring down at her plate. She was clearly angry about something. Angry at me? It was impossible to say for certain, but he had the sense that she was.
He did his best to catch her eye for a moment longer, but she was resolutely looking away from him.
Well…that was fine. If she wanted to make this difficult, he wasn’t going to fight her, even though she had promised she was going to help. He turned back to Lady Isabelle, hoping to say something to her.
Lady Caroline interjected again. “Do you think, Your Grace, that there will be dancing after dinner has concluded?”
“I’d imagine there might be,” he said, trying to keep his voice cordial.
“I’ll save a dance for you,” she said giddily.
“Perhaps a pair of them. We can get away with that, and it won’t seem too untoward, I think.
Don’t you think so? Two dances ought to be all right.
I don’t think we can manage more than that in a single night, but will you be at the Whitworth Ball next week?
Because I will be, and we’d be able to have a third dance there, and a fourth… ”
“Indeed,” he interrupted her. “We can think about all that when the time gets closer, perhaps, but it would be rude of me not to socialize with the others at the table. If you’ll forgive me, Lady Caroline.”
And he turned his back on her so resolutely that he was sure she couldn’t possibly mistake his intention.
This left him facing Lady Isabelle, who he both needed and wanted to speak to, but once again he was at a loss as to what he should say.
Would it be right to tell her he found her pretty?
It was the truth, but it seemed a strange way to begin a conversation.
Maybe it would be better to ask her a question, such as how she was enjoying the food.
But then she would give the answer to the question and he would be right back where he was now—casting about for something to say, completely at a loss.
This was impossible. What did anybody do under these circumstances?
How were you supposed to get from introductions to a meaningful conversation?
If only he could speak to Dorothy! She was easy enough to talk to. A conversation with her wouldn’t bring her any nearer the marriage he sought, of course, but at least it might help him to relax.
The trouble was that not only was Dorothy still looking away from him—she was facing the gentleman on her other side now, making easy conversation—he wasn’t sure he wanted to speak to her.
He couldn’t help but feel a little stranded.
She had pledged to help him. Yes, she’d signaled who she thought he should be talking to, but then she had gotten angry for no clear reason that he could see, and now she had turned her attention to someone else altogether.
How was that going to help? What if he needed her?
Shouldn’t she have her attention on him?
He had expected a wallflower. Instead, she was the liveliest conversationalist at her end of the table.
So much for that plan. He had abandoned the head of the table, with its circle of eager debutantes, to sit near the one woman who noticed everything.
But if she never stopped talking, he would learn nothing from her at all.
He knew he shouldn’t really be angry with her. She had lived up to her part of the bargain. She had warned him away from Lady Caroline, and that had proven to be the right move. She had even signaled yes to Lady Isabelle. He didn’t know what else he wanted her to do.
But the fact that he was in this without her…it just felt wrong, somehow. It felt like he was at loose ends. If he could have spoken to her, he was sure he would have known exactly what to do next, but as it was, he was on his own and adrift.