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Dukes to Fall in Love With: A Historical Regency Romance Collection

Page 40

by Bridget Barton


  Or perhaps it was acknowledgment of her own struggle, or the little of it that she had admitted to him.

  Or maybe it was plainly the fancy of a young woman looking out upon a handsome man and wishing that she was the reason he had come to dinner, not her stepsisters.

  “Come away from the window, Ella,” the Earl said sharply, “and take your seat.”

  Without a word, Ella crossed the room and sat in the armchair that was, as always, just a little removed from the rest.

  “And please remember that the only reason you are invited to take dinner with us this evening is that the Duke would undoubtedly expect the entire family to be at the table,” the Earl said with an air of agitation. “But you will do your best to stay quiet and, if the Duke does ask anything of you, you will answer him as succinctly as you can. I will not have you pushing yourself forward again.”

  Again, Ella did not speak. She was too tired of the unreasonable natures of all around her that she could not argue anymore. In fact, she knew that there would be little point in it for there was not a single person in the room who would actually listen.

  When the Duke first came into the drawing room, the greetings were, as always, stomach clenching and embarrassing. The Earl overdid it as always, taking every opportunity to show his daughters in what he thought the very best light. If only he could see that he was going too far and making fools of them all.

  “And good evening, Miss Winfield. How very nice to see you again.” As he spoke, the Duke held her gaze and seemed genuinely pleased to see her.

  However, Ella had the feeling that their greeting might seem all too familiar, might even give them away as having met each other again since his last visit to Dandridge Hall. As ridiculous as her little fear seemed, Ella knew that her stepfather was extraordinarily vigilant, even paranoid when it came to such things.

  “Good evening, Your Grace,” she said simply and then cast her eyes away, hoping that he would follow her lead and make no more conversation with her.

  From the moment they all sat down to dinner, it was clear that the Earl and Countess of Dandridge had once again overdone things. There was an eye-watering amount of food, and the staff seemed to be working in a constant relay to remove half-full plates only to replace them with fresh dishes of other fine foods.

  “I must say, you have gone to a good deal of effort,” the Duke said as he eyed the ever-increasing menu.

  “I like to live well, Your Grace, and I am always keen that my guests enjoy themselves,” the Earl said pompously, clearly trying to give the impression that the family enjoyed such fare at every sitting.

  “That is very kind of you, Dandridge, for I must say that I do not live this well at home.” The Duke laughed, and the rest of the table followed suit, sycophantically laughing along with him.

  Ella was the only one who remained silent, realizing immediately that the Duke was laughing at them, not with them.

  What on earth was he doing there?

  “Have you been much in society of late, Your Grace?” The Earl seemed to be commandeering much of the conversation, as was his custom.

  “Not a great deal, it must be said,” he answered, and Ella relaxed.

  For an awful moment, she thought he might absentmindedly announce to the entire table that he had enjoyed an afternoon of bridge in the home of Lady Brightwell. A simple blunder such as that would be enough to give her away entirely to all present.

  When she dared to look up from her meal, Ella could see that the Duke was looking at her, and he gave her the faintest of smiles. She smiled back, hoping against all hope that nobody else at the table witnessed the silent exchange.

  “And do you have anything of note to look forward to, Your Grace? I cannot think a man of your standing is short on invitations.” It suddenly became clear to Ella that her stepfather was searching for information.

  No doubt he was trying to discover if the Duke had any such similar engagements in the county, whether he was to sit down to dinner with any other forceful fathers and their dreadfully ambitious daughters.

  “Nothing until next week, Dandridge,” the Duke said, and Ella thought she detected a slight smirk play across his lips. “I have an evening soirée to attend on the other side of the county,” he went on tantalizingly.

  “Indeed?” The Earl stopped eating and raised his eyebrows.

  “Yes, I am out again for dinner, and I have been promised a very fine evening indeed.” He smiled. “Which makes me a very fortunate man, for I have enjoyed a good many fine evenings of late.”

  Ella had to look down at her plate to hide her smile. Had the Duke realised that the Earl was hunting for information on the competition? Was he really toying with the man, as a cat plays with a mouse?

  “But I do hope that you are having a very fine evening this evening, Your Grace,” Georgiana butted in clumsily. “That is what matters most to me.”

  “And it matters to me too,” Patience interrupted pettishly.

  “A very fine evening indeed, ladies,” the Duke said and reached for his wine. “I can hardly think of a time when I have been more entertained than I am at present.” Once again, he looked at Ella and smiled.

  It was a mercifully brief look and the smile, she felt sure, was a secret one full of ridicule for everybody else at the table. Again, she returned his smile hurriedly before looking back down at her plate.

  Was he silently communicating his displeasure at the Bellville family to her? Was he really connecting with her in such a way? Could it be that he did not have a liking for either one of her stepsisters at all?

  “Who will you be dining with next week, Your Grace?” Georgiana’s manners were clearly not going to improve over the course of one dinner.

  Ella saw her mother almost swallow her fork in horror, although the Earl did not seem bothered by his daughter’s inquisitiveness in the slightest.

  “Georgiana,” Ariadne said gently when it seemed the Earl would say nothing at all.

  “I am to dine with the Earl of Mortcombe and his family,” the Duke said quickly before even more embarrassment was heaped upon those with the capacity to feel it.

  The Earl looked suddenly furious, although Ella could not tell if it was because of his wife’s quiet chastisement of one of his daughters, or if it was on account of the family with whom the Duke was due to dine.

  Whatever the cause, Ella felt distinctly uneasy and decided to keep her eyes down for the rest of the meal. She would not foolishly risk any further amused eye contact with the handsome Duke, however much pleasure it gave her.

  Instead, she would stay quiet and wait patiently for the dreadful evening to be over with.

  Chapter 17

  “I was pleased to see that you were allowed to keep to the dining room for dinner last night.” The Duke appeared seemingly from nowhere, causing Ella to gasp.

  “Good heavens!” Ella squeaked and laid a steadying hand on her own chest.

  “I am sorry, Miss Winfield. I should have realised how deep in thought you were as you studied that bolt of fabric.” He laughed.

  Ella laughed too, although her shock had yet to subside. The Duke was right, she really had been deep in thought as she looked through the fabric and lace in the haberdashery.

  The atmosphere at Dandridge had been so heavy with threat that morning that Ella had decided to make an early escape. The Earl’s temper, although not yet parted with, was clearly brewing and brewing as it waited to reach boiling point.

  Still Ella had not been sure of its entire cause, although she could not rule out the idea that the glances she and the Duke had shared had been witnessed, and so she had quickly made herself ready and had ridden into town on the trusted horse she had taken to Dandridge when she had left Longton Manor.

  “Are you in the market for a new gown, Miss Winfield?” the Duke went on when she had remained silent for a few moments.

  “No, not a new gown, Your Grace.” She smiled. “Just a small piece of lace to add to a gown t
hat I already have.”

  “I see.”

  “And yourself, Your Grace? What interests you so greatly in a haberdashery?” she asked with a smile.

  “I saw you from the doorway as I was passing.” He shrugged and smiled all at once, and she wondered at her sudden ease in his presence. “And I thought I would make myself known. I was just on my way to the tearooms.”

  “I wonder that you have room left for tea and cake, Your Grace, given the year’s supply of food that was provided last night at Dandridge Hall.” Ella had spoken without thinking, letting her humorous nature take over.

  When the Duke laughed heartily, she was more than gratified at the response. She had known, of course, that he had a sense of humour, that much had been clear on the night of the masquerade ball. But the two of them had not particularly laughed together since then, and she was pleased that he was amused by her in the world without masks.

  “I was very careful to eat slowly and chew thoroughly last night, Miss Winfield, for even I do not have the constitution for such bounty.”

  “Nobody has the constitution for such bounty, Your Grace.”

  “Do you think you will be long in choosing your lace, Miss Winfield?” he said, changing the subject altogether.

  “I should not think so, Your Grace, for I have already decided.”

  “Then perhaps you might have time to take tea with me? You would certainly spare me the sad and sensitive glances of Mrs Holton, the proprietor. I am forever in there taking tea alone, and her pity is so tangible I can almost feel it.”

  “You paint a very sorry picture of yourself indeed, Your Grace.” Ella was enjoying herself more than she could say.

  Perhaps something about the night before had put them more at ease with one another; maybe their shared glances and amusement had not all been in her imagination.

  “A very sorry picture indeed, in hopes that you will take pity on me too. And not only would you be doing me a great service, Miss Winfield, but you would be sparing Mrs Holton such fraught emotions.”

  “Well, I should not like to see Mrs Holton upset, obviously,” Ella began slowly and thoughtfully, “but I should also not like to be seen and reported on to my stepfather.” Ella ended her sentence much more quietly than she had begun it.

  “You are still suffering the same concerns?” He lowered his tone also.

  “I am being cautious, Your Grace. Things do not go well at Dandridge Hall this morning, which is why I am out so early shopping for lace that I do not particularly need.” She raised her eyebrows.

  “Then what-say you make your way into the tearoom first, and have a good look around for anybody you think might be so well acquainted with your stepfather as to pass comment. If you are happy that there is no such person in the tearoom, then perhaps you might allow me to sit with you just a few minutes. What do you think to that as an idea?”

  “As ideas go, Your Grace, it would seem to me to be exceptionally well thought out.” Ella laughed.

  “I thank you, kind lady.” He gave a comical little bow. “And is it well thought out enough to tempt you?”

  “Yes, it is.” Ella wanted more than anything to sit with him for a while and continue in the happy banter which seemed to have developed quite organically between them.

  However, she knew she must remain alert to everything around her and be careful to maintain discretion in the conversation, lest anybody present overhear them.

  The Duke hovered while she paid for the lace, and Ella felt suddenly a little embarrassed. Every penny she had in the world to herself was in the tiny fabric purse she held in her hand. It was but a few coins, enough to pay for the lace, but still very little. And what was worse, she felt him noticing.

  Going ahead to the tearooms provided a certain amount of relief, a little time to get over her moment of embarrassment.

  It was barely mid-morning, and the tearoom was mercifully quiet, there being only one other gentleman in there who looked as if he was taking a break in his working day. He was a smartly turned out and learned-looking gent, and she suspected him to be either an attorney or a bookkeeper or something similar.

  Whatever he was, she was sure that he was not a close personal friend of the Earl of Dandridge and there, at that moment, she assumed herself to be safe.

  By the time she had made herself comfortable, the Duke was already entering the tearoom. He looked over at her and raised an eyebrow, and she nodded imperceptibly. He made a little show of being pleased to see her and somewhat surprised, presumably for the benefit of Mrs Holton, and then politely asked if he might join her.

  “Of course, Your Grace,” she said with a knowing smile.

  “Good morning, Mrs Holton.” He smiled at the approaching proprietor with an easy informality that the older woman seemed to appreciate very much. “Would you be so kind as to bring us a pot of tea and some of your wonderful little cakes?”

  “Certainly, Your Grace.” Mrs Holton returned his smile, a little colour appearing in her pale, lined cheeks.

  “Mrs Holton really does make wonderful cakes, does she not?” the Duke said, turning back to her.

  “I am afraid I do not know, your Grace. I have not spent much time here in town, given that I used to shop for whatever I needed in Middleton. It was closer to Longton Manor, you see.”

  “I see, it is just the other side of your father’s old estate, is it not?”

  “Yes, and it had everything I needed, albeit a good deal smaller and less well-appointed than town.”

  “You have simple tastes, I perceive, and yet I think good taste.” He smiled.

  “If that is a compliment, Your Grace, then I thank you for it.” She laughed.

  “It is indeed a compliment, Miss Winfield.” He looked at her intently for a moment, his dark eyes such a draw to her. “So, tell me, if I do not ask too much, what is the cause of such consternation in your household this morning that you felt the need to make yourself scarce?”

  “Nothing has been said, Your Grace, rather it was a general feeling,” Ella said and chewed at her bottom lip in thought. “An atmosphere, perhaps.”

  “Am I to assume that your family did not enjoy dinner with the Duke last night?”

  “I am not entirely sure that they ever truly enjoy anything, Your Grace,” she spoke quietly, still keen not to be overheard, even by the clerical gentleman some seats away.

  “That is a very interesting idea, Miss Winfield.” He narrowed his eyes in a way which suggested he was keen to hear more. “Would you care to explain it?”

  “The Belvilles are a family of acquisition, Your Grace. And they spend so much time in acquiring that they never enjoy what they have. As soon as something is achieved and is in their possession, already they are thinking of the next thing. And it can be anything, gowns, decoration, horses, people. They are never satisfied, sir, and so they do not have the capacity for true enjoyment. It eludes them.”

  “Because true enjoyment, I suppose, demands a certain amount of presence. One must be where they are and when they are, so to speak, in order to enjoy what is.”

  “You have it exactly, Your Grace. If only I could have put it so succinctly and so well.”

  “And now you are complimenting me, Miss Winfield.”

  “But not without reason, truly. You have managed to describe the circumstance exactly as it is.”

  “Then it must be a very trying circumstance for you and your mother,” he said, and she recognised at once that he was turning the conversation in order to seek a little more information.

  Still, she did not mind it at all, for she was sure that it was well meant. But she knew she must guard against giving too much away, especially since she did not know for certain that he was not at all interested in either of Ronald Belville’s daughters. Just because the Duke was at his ease with her did not mean that she ought to let her guard down and say something that might well land her in trouble at home.

  “I am not quite sure how my mother feels about it
all. It is true to say that she is very much more at home with the Earl and his family than I am, and certainly regarding acquiring she is already adept. She fits better than I do at Dandridge, but I am not certain that she fits as well as she had hoped to.”

  “I see,” he said and paused whilst Mrs Holton laid out their tea before them. “Thank you kindly, Mrs Holton,” he said before the woman bobbed and turned to walk away.

  “They really do look like very nice cakes.” Ella was seeking to change the subject, albeit very gently.

  “Indeed, they are.” He stared at the cakes blankly for a moment before resuming. “Forgive me, Miss Winfield, but are you treated as one of the family at home?”

 

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