by Brianna York
Matthew snorted and slathered the pomade onto his hair. “I appreciate your assurances, Dobbs, even if I know that you’re just trying to make me feel better.”
Dobbs shrugged and returned to the neck cloths. “You do know that it is five minutes to six,” he reminded his employer carefully.
Matthew cursed floridly and gave up on his hair. He stood up and buttoned his coat. “I shall see you later, Dobbs,” he called over his shoulder as he left the room.
With Matthew gone, Dobbs sighed and shook his head. He truly hated when Matthew’s mother came to visit. Matthew was not a difficult man by nature, but nothing compared to the foul mood that his mother could put him in. Dobbs crossed his fingers and hoped that Emmeline was planning on a short stay.
Matthew descended the stairs and made his way down the hall to the dining room. He stopped to inspect himself in the mirror hanging to the left of the dining room doors. He tried valiantly to ignore his hair as he brushed off his lapels and fixed his stickpin. He drew a deep breath, rolled his head from side to side to release some of the tension in his shoulders, and stepped into the room. Rob was the only person inside and Matthew felt relief wash over him. “Hello, Rob,” he said, surveying the room slowly.
“Milton has really outdone himself,” Rob commented. He pulled idly at his shirt points and rocked back and forth on his heels.
Matthew nodded, still staring about him. He could not remember the last time that the dining room had looked so formal. The center leaf had been added to the table before it was covered with a fine, white lace table cloth that fairly glowed beneath the glare thrown by the multitude of candles that had been lit. The crowning touch was a lavish flower arrangement sitting right in the middle of the table which brought Dobbs to mind.
“Where is everyone else?” Rob asked, pulling out his pocket watch.
Matthew shrugged. “I thought it was certain that I was going to be late. Come on, let’s go to the drawing room. I am sure that my mother wouldn’t approve of everyone meeting in the dining room anyway.”
“Did you always follow the ‘proper’ protocol when this was her household?” Rob asked carefully, following his friend back up the stairs.
Matthew nodded. “We were required to dress for every meal except breakfast. Mother always ordered at least six courses, and the table had to be set with the finest linen and at least the second-best silver. We were expected to eat every course, and we were not allowed to talk at all unless spoken to directly. I assure you, Jules, Alex and I dreaded dinner and tea alike. Drink?”
“Yes, please.” Rob crossed the room and propped himself up against the mantle.
“It isn’t like my mother or Alex to be late,” Matthew mused, bringing Rob his drink.
“Thank you, Matthew,” Rob said, taking the glass from his friend and taking a small sip. “I’m sure that neither of them wishes to be in the room with the other for any longer than necessary.”
Matthew chuckled softly at that. “I think that you may have something there, my friend.”
“What do you have?” Marcus’s voice reached them just before he appeared in the door way. “You’re late, Marcus,” Matthew said instead.
“Many apologies,” Marcus said with a shrug.
Matthew rolled his eyes. “Drink?”
Marcus nodded. “What does Rob have?” he persisted.
“I just pointed out that neither of the ladies is present most likely due to the fact that neither one of them wishes to spend any undue time with the other. I presume that the very thought of being stuck in a room with only each other to converse with is absolutely repulsive to them both, and so they have both decided to come down late enough to ensure that there will be other people in the room.” Having finished with his explanation, Rob turned and paced over to the bookshelf on the far wall and began perusing the selection to kill time.
Marcus checked his pocket watch, and nodded his agreement. “Thank you,” he told Matthew, accepting the drink that was offered him. Just then there was a murmur of voices in the hallway, and when everyone in the room looked up expectantly, Alex appeared in the doorway on Forrest’s arm.
“Sorry to be so late,” Alex said quickly, relieved that her plan had worked. She had intended to arrive late enough to insure the presence of other people with which to converse besides the Dowager Duchess. Meeting Forrest in the hall had been rare luck and she had eagerly accepted his escort to the drawing room as a much better safeguard against Emmeline.
“Don’t worry. You are not the last to arrive,” Rob assured her as Forrest settled her into a chair before taking one himself.
“Last but surely not least, I am sure was what you meant my dear Earl.” All heads in the room swiveled toward the doorway which framed Emmeline. She was dressed in a deep green gown that turned her eyes to sparkling emerald and accentuated the painted-on blush on her cheeks. She took two steps forward, revealing Julian in a light blue tailcoat and Hessians so shiny and new-looking that it was doubtful they had ever been worn before.
Rob, not at all apologetic, smiled his toothiest grin at Emmeline. “Of course, Your Grace,” he replied respectfully. She bestowed a watery smile on Rob, turned to her son. “Well, Matthew? To dinner?” Matthew bowed ever so slightly to his mother, and she quickly attached herself to Marcus’s arm.
Alex tried to mind her manners, but the urge was simply too strong to fight. She cleared her throat conspicuously, drawing a narrow look from Matthew. She ignored her brother and repeated the throat clearing. Emmeline glanced back over her shoulder in open annoyance, her eyes narrowing to cool green slits when they fell upon Alex. “Excuse me, Your Grace, I don’t want to interrupt your conversation with the Earl, but I fear that I am the one who is supposed to be on his arm. I believe that Matthew should be the one to escort you.”
Emmeline’s eyes sparked with fury, but after a moment of indecision in which she realized that Alex was right, she released Marcus’s arm and reluctantly attached herself to Matthew’s. Having done that, she promptly sailed out of the room with Matthew in tow, leaving the rest of the room to organize itself.
Forrest stared at Alex knowingly. “You simply could not help yourself, could you?”
She shrugged. “If we must dine like kings and queens, then we must follow the Order of Precedence to the letter as well,” she replied firmly.
Forrest relented with a chuckle. “Well let’s not all stand here like idiots.”
Alex took Marcus’s arm as Forrest and Rob fell in behind them. Julian rose from the corner where he had been neatly forgotten and trailed behind the others as they made their way down to the dining room. Matthew had already led Emmeline to one end of the table and seen her seated when the others arrived. He took his place at the head of the table, and Julian chose to sit at his brother’s left. Rob pulled out the chair to Matthew’s right for Alex. Once she was seated, he took his place to the Duchess’s left. Milton began pouring wine, and the other servants in the room began handing out the first course.
“I say, Alex,” Julian ventured suddenly into the rather thick silence. “How in the world do you manage to remember all of that drawing room nonsense? Mother has tried ever so hard to explain it to me I don’t know how many times, but it just won’t stick.”
Alex smiled tolerantly at her half-brother, ignoring the frigid glare that Emmeline sent her way. “I just like a challenge, Jules. I considered the Order of Precedence as such when I decided to memorize it. It took some work, I must admit, but it was well worth the effort.”
Julian nodded, obviously much impressed. “Most impressive,” he said for lack of any other rejoinder.
Matthew, who was starting to get a headache, unfolded his napkin and placed it in his lap. Milton had finished pouring the dinner wine, and the first course was nearly distributed. He stared down at the soup in front of him and sighed. He found himself suddenly without any appetite to speak of.
“Are you planning to attend any events in particular while you are here,
Your Grace?” Marcus asked of the Dowager Duchess. He dipped a silver spoon into his soup and stirred to cool it while he awaited her reply.
“Actually, I had not formed any such plans as yet,” she replied before sampling the soup. Her features contracted into a brief expression that expressed distaste. “Too much pepper, Matthew,” she said in sharp annoyance.
“Sorry, mother,” Matthew responded. The headache was making its presence known much more seriously. He groaned inwardly and forced himself to down another spoonful of soup.
“There is to be a rather large get-together at the Rotherford house tomorrow night,” Rob contributed. He took a quick swallow of claret. “They put on a wonderful ball.”
Emmeline appeared to consider this a moment. “Will you be there, Earl?”
Marcus flashed her a bright smile. “But of course.”
“Good.” She nodded. “Matthew, you will notify them that Julian and I shall be attending.” Matthew resisted the urge to gnash his teeth. The Rotherford guest list was notoriously exclusive and also rather short. They would not appreciate at all the sudden addition of two extra people. They could not afford, however, to turn down a Hargreve. “I shall send a note their way tomorrow.” He wondered if he could manage to be ill tomorrow night. Alex must have been having similar thoughts, because she sent a commiserating glance in her brother’s direction. He smiled wanly at her.
“I do hope that you are still looking for an acceptable wife?” Emmeline’s voice sliced through the companionable silence that Alex was sharing with her brother so suddenly that Matthew had to restrain himself from shuddering.
“Mother, I really don’t think,” he began to say only to have Emmeline cut him off abruptly with a wave of her hand.
“Nonsense,” she announced. “You must ensure the succession. It is time that you forget about the disaster of three years ago. Honestly Matthew, that girl was no better than she ought to have been.”
Matthew closed his eyes, somewhat bewildered that he could still feel the urge to defend his former fiancé in spite of what she had done to him. “I think that this isn’t appropriate dinner conversation, Mother,” he finally managed to say.
The older woman frowned at that. “Hmmph,” was all she had to say.
Alex grit her teeth for a moment, then plastered an innocuous half-smile on her face and tried to concentrate on her dinner. It would only prolong the length of the discussion to argue with her stepmother in spite of the fact that she wanted very much to defend her brother.
“Woolgathering, Alex?” The voice belonged to Rob, and, when she glanced up sharply from her contemplation of her brother’s profile, she found the rest of the table was watching her intently.
She cleared her throat briefly, then said, “I didn’t intend to neglect my guests. Forgive me for being anti-social.”
“Apology accepted,” Emmeline replied a spiteful sheen to her green eyes. She had always used Matthew and Alex’s closeness as a means to attempt to punish them both. She knew that she could not truly hurt them in any other manner.
“Tell me son,” Emmeline said next, turning toward a new topic of discussion. “How go things at High Gate?” Matthew gratefully launched into a full report of the goings-on at the family breeding farm over the past year, but he noticed that his mother’s eyes kept sliding surreptitiously away from him to regard Alex. Alex noticed the older woman’s undue attention as well, and tried valiantly to ignore it as she kept a lively conversation up with Forrest.
Finally, forty minutes later, Emmeline rose to her feet to signal the end of dinner. “You gentleman enjoy your port while Alexandra and I go to freshen up a bit before we join you.”
“Shall we go?” Emmeline invited Alex. As Alex dutifully rose to her feet, Matthew shot Alex a warning look that had a touch of sympathy in it. Alex tried to pretend that she had not seen, but she too knew that Emmeline had some sort of special spite up her sleeve.
Once they were alone in the hall, Emmeline said, “Shall we freshen up?”
Alex inclined her head slightly, then followed Emmeline to the drawing room. She thought she knew what Emmeline was going to say to her, and she prepared herself for the worst.
Once in the drawing room, Emmeline made for a mirror hanging on the far wall and fussed with her elegantly coiffured hair for a moment or two and fiddled with her jewelry before returning her attention to Alex. “Under normal circumstances I would not have separated the party, but I felt that I needed to have a private discussion with you.”
Alex took two steps to the nearest wingback chair and settled delicately into it, smoothing her skirts. “If that is what you wish, Your Grace, you have my full attention.”
Emmeline smiled, a quick flash of insincere emotion that did not reach her eyes in the slightest. “As you have always been too direct in your manner to be a proper young lady, I shall take a similar attitude with you now.”
Alex winged one brow at her stepmother and waited.
“I think that it is high time that you were married. I had always hoped that you would oblige us all and marry quickly. Lord knows that you had as many beaux as days of the month when you came out. And yet, you did not choose to marry a single one of the eligible young men who were so infatuated with you. I must assume that you have not married because you wish to retain the lavish lifestyle Matthew’s indulgence affords you.”
Alex blinked at the Duchess, attempting not to become irritated. “I will marry for love, Your Grace, or not at all.”
Emmeline tapped her cheek idly with one long finger. “In another year you will be well and truly shelved, stepdaughter. By this time, you must have met every eligible man available to you. Of that great number, you cannot find a single one that you may grow fond enough of to marry? Perhaps I shall have to select one for you since you seem not to have the common sense to do so yourself.”
Alex gazed into the frosty green eyes across from her in a state of disbelief that gave way quickly to anger. “You shall do no such thing! Matthew and I shall make such decisions regarding my future.”
Emmeline’s eyes flashed. “You will not order me about, Alexandra! I am still the head of this family, whether you like it or not!”
Alex grit her teeth, feeling her cheeks flushing with her anger. “I know that you do not love Matthew, and that you wish Julian were the heir to the Dunsaney name. No matter how much you desire that, Matthew is the Duke of Dunsaney and my marriage plans are none of your affair.” She said the last loudly and firmly as if talking to someone who was simple.
Emmeline’s eyes were a flat, opaque green and a tinge of natural high color coursed beneath the rouge on her cheeks. “The thing that I regret most about having married your father is you,” she hissed.
Alex smiled a cold and ruthless smile. “I think that you have always known that he loved Matthew and myself far more than you.” She stood then. “Shall we join the men?”
Emmeline looked like she wanted to object, but she nodded and swept from the room first. Alex released a tense breath that she had been holding before gathering herself up and following the older woman.
Nine
E
mmeline swept into the dining room a half a beat before Alex, causing absolute silence to be intact by the time Alex entered the room. Emmeline made no attempt to break the quiet, just crossed the room to where her son was standing with one elbow propped up on the mantle. She smiled at Matthew and reached out an elegant and lithe hand to take the glass of port he was holding. “Thank you,” she said after taking a dainty sip.
Matthew made an odd face that Alex could not really relate to any given emotion, then turned and glanced over his mother’s head at Alex, who was still standing in the doorway. “Drink?” he asked, one eyebrow winged higher than the other.
“Yes, please,” Alex replied, regaining her equilibrium. She had not realized how much the Dowager Duchess had shaken her until her brother spoke. Matthew nodded and made his way over to the drink cabinet. “Anyone care
for more?” he asked over his shoulder to the room in general.
“I shall take you up on that offer,” Forrest answered, rising and taking Marcus and Rob’s glasses from them. “Lady Alexandra, take my chair,” he said, indicating the chair that he had just vacated with a nod of his head.
“Thank you,” Alex replied, settling herself into the still-warm chair and straightening her skirts. Matthew returned with her drink and took the chair next to Marcus. He sighed and took a sip of his wine and stared contemplatively into the fire.
“I don’t suppose that anyone would mind if I played the piano a bit?” Emmeline asked rather abruptly. She was on her feet and halfway out of the room before she had finished posing the question. “Could I impose on you, my dear Earl,” she called in the slightly husky tone she employed when she wished to get her way, “to turn the pages for me?”
“Why of course, Duchess,” Marcus answered agreeably as the group of guests filed into the room.
“I see that all of my personal favorites are still here,” Emmeline commented idly, sorting through the delicate paper. “Do you not play anymore Alex?”
“Of course I still play,” she returned. “However, I do not play for company as I consider my skills a bit below average.” As everyone in the room knew that Alex played the piano skillfully, this was a bald-faced lie, but Alex would not be goaded into playing Emmeline’s game. Emmeline would love nothing more than forcing Alex into a situation where she would be compared to her.
Matthew turned away and smiled into his glass. Bravo Alex, he thought with relief. His mother could be terribly underhanded. How often had Alex sat at that very piano and played? He had lost count over the years.
“Shall I refill drinks, Matthew?” Julian asked eagerly, obviously wishing to be included.
Matthew smiled gently at his younger brother. “If the others wish to have more.”
“More port?” he asked, glancing around the room at Rob, Alex and then Forrest, and finally at Marcus and his mother at the piano.