Oh, to be rich and not care about the struggles of the common folk. Well, that’s not fair now, is it? He might be a caring fellow. I simply do not know him well enough to make snap judgements.
Alexandra shook her head. Why was she even wasting thoughts on him?
She did not usually think of her clients and what they may or may not do in their homes. She also did not often banter with them as she had with the Duke. He did enjoy getting under her skin, that much was for sure. Hopefully, he would be more delicate around Lady Frances. She was not of a robust temperament and appeared the sort to be easily shocked. Alexandra still wished that the Duke wasn’t quite so opposed to marriage. It would make it much easier on everyone.
She surveyed her dresses, which hung in the closet by the window, neatly separated by color. It was becoming somewhat warmer outside and she suspected that once the fog lifted, it may warm up, but there was still a chill in the air.
She selected a simple cream-colored round dress and paired it with a celestial blue spencer. She donned her pelisse and sturdy walking shoes. With this combination, she was ready for either warmth or cold. She walked across the room and tilted her head as she considered which hat to wear. She did not have anywhere near the selection her clients did, but she had a number of them.
A good amount of her fees went toward her clothing, for no matter what her standing in society, she had to be dressed appropriately to chaperone her clients wherever they chose to go. In the end, she chose a bonnet that had a blue strap across the top that matched her good spencer, in case it was warm enough to remove the pelisse.
She wondered if the Duke much cared for fashion. Many men of the upper class did. Lord Hendley was one. Although these days, he did not pay as much mind to his appearance as he had than in his days as a carefree dandy. She wondered how a chap as nice as the Viscount had come to befriend the Duke. Well, both the Viscount and the Duke enjoyed good banter, and she had to admit she was rather impressed that the Duke was kind toward Lord Hendley. Many a lord shunned the young man because he danced on the line of poverty and low social standing. If they had indeed been friends for many years, it meant the Duke was a loyal man who cared about his friends. Alexandra very much appreciated such a commitment.
Why am I thinking of him again? This must stop! Irritated, Alexandra shut her closet door and went downstairs.
* * *
Her hired hackney coach arrived on time and she climbed inside. Unlike the one she’d hired to collect her from the Duke’s house, this one was old and dirty inside. She made sure to pat the seat with her hand to remove any old dirt. She did not want to dirty her nice clothes.
Once she’d taken her seat, the jarvey took off. She watched as the London scenery went by outside her coach window. Gradually, the houses and roads changed the closer she got to Mayfair. In her neighborhood, the streets did not yet have streetlights, though they suddenly appeared once she passed Piccadilly.
The homes became grander and the surface of the roads changed from the sandy dirt roads near her house to the cobble stone more commonly seen in the neighborhoods of the upper class.
I wonder what it would be like living here. The area is so pleasant. I will never be able to afford a house here, but maybe an office space? That would be lovely. To be so close to high society surely would boost the business.
It was no longer as dreary outside, and by the time they reached the church, the sun was peeking out between the clouds.
* * *
Alexandra got out of the coach and was almost immediately approached by a man. The sun was in her eyes, making it difficult to recognize who he was until he spoke with a familiar cadence.
“Miss Evans! Good to see you once again.”
“Your Grace,” she replied, finally recognizing him. She bowed forward slightly, as was the custom. “I had not expected you so soon. Did you not attend the service?”
The Duke was dressed in cream-colored trousers with simple black shoes. He wore a brown tailcoat, a white shirt, and brown waistcoat beneath. A fine silk cravat was visible as well. On his head rested a top hat. He was rather handsome, she had to admit.
“I do not attend church services unless required by social expectation.” His hand traveled to his chest, clutching something. She spotted a quizzing glass dangling from his neck on a ribbon. She hadn’t taken him for someone who much cared for fashion.
“Neither do I. My mother was not a religious woman and so I was not raised in the church.” She couldn’t take her eyes off the quizzing glass. It was fashioned to look like it had gemstones resting on the facets.
“It was my father’s. I inherited it upon his death,” the Duke explained when he noticed her looking at it. “I thought it may be a suitable accessory to bring with me today, as it is my father’s Estate this marriage will secure.”
Alexandra felt a warm sensation in her heart. She was touched by the way the Duke incorporated his father’s memory to overcome his aversion to courting.
“It will secure it indeed. And Your Grace may find courting to be not such a chore, after all. Your Grace might even find entertainment in the venture. My clients often do.”
“I shall hope so,” he replied, his voice grim.
They would have to wait for the church service to be over before they could proceed. In order to make conversation and ease the tension, Alexandra inquired after the Duchess.
“Your mother appears to have recovered from her ordeal.” The Duke looked confused for a moment, then shook his head.
“Oh, the misadventure with the Luddites. It was not quite as dramatic as she would have the ton believe. She was not dragged from the carriage by force by hoodlums. Although it makes for a much better story than the truth, of course.”
Alexandra glanced around. It was highly improper to be gossiping in the street in this manner. Alas, while many elegant ladies and gentlemen populated the promenade, nobody paid attention to them.
“And what is the truth?” Curiosity got the better of her.
“The Duchess was traveling to high tea with Lady Cavendish, which is true. That is where reality and fiction diverge. On her way, the carriage was stopped by three men. Upon the driver’s inquiries, they identified themselves as local textile workers. They had been waiting for the carriage, hoping to speak to me regarding the new machinery that is to be brought into the mill. My mother, who has a hatred for the Luddites, informed them it was her in the carriage and not me. Knowing my mother, additional words were spoken, which lead to a verbal altercation. My mother then exited the carriage in order to give the men a piece of her mind. Upon exiting, she slipped in a mud puddle and promptly fell into the dirt road.”
A loud laugh escaped Alexandra’s mouth. She quickly placed her hand in front of her mouth. A lady must never be seen laughing out loud in public. It was unseemly. The Duke did not seem to mind as he also roared with laughter.
“Oh my, that is not a story Her Grace could tell at Almack’s.”
“No, certainly not.” They both recovered from their laughing fits and once again stood, eyes fixed upon each other.
“But what of the young men? Surely, if Her Grace accused them of assaulting her person, they would be punished and even put to their death.”
The Duke grimaced. “I shall hope for their sake they are not caught.”
Alexandra felt a shift in her. The poor boys. It seemed so terribly unfair should they be caught.
“If they were to be caught, would you ensure they would be set free?” The Duke stepped from one foot to the other and did not look at her.
“I would not be able to do anything for those boys. You cannot expect me to accuse my mother of tall tales for the sake of three Luddites that surely would have done what she accuses them of doing, had it been me in the carriage instead of her.”
Alexandra took a step back. “You do not know this for a fact. Perhaps they simply wanted to speak to you, to voice their worries to a man they felt was reasonable in his approach to their
cause.”
Now it was the Duke’s turn to step back. “Their cause? Their cause has cost the State unimaginable amounts of money in damages and put many more workers out of a job than the machines they fear. They are an uneducated, ignorant lot who believe they can solve their worries with destruction. Well, Miss Evans, I assure you that the government will not allow them to hold progress out of sheer willfulness.”
Alexandra had to keep her voice from getting louder. “Perhaps if the government was less severe in its punishment and more understanding of their reasons, there may be a favorable conclusion for all.”
The Duke was about to retort, she could tell by the way he drew breath, when the church bells rang behind them, signaling the end of the service.
Alexandra gave the Duke a curt nod.
“If you will excuse me, I will meet the Lady Frances and her father at the church and bring her here for a formal introduction.” She did not look him in the eye and instead turned on her heel and left. Oh, why had she allowed herself to become involved in such a discussion with him? It was not only unseemly, but also had put her in an unpleasant mood. She strode toward the church, wondering once again why this man had such an effect on her.
Chapter 10
The impertinence. The sheer impertinence. How dare this woman question me? Question the government? Unheard of!
He did not often agree with the Prime Minister and his fellow Lords, but on the matter of the Luddites, he did. Why did Miss Evans have such a sympathetic view of them? Indeed, she sounded not unlike Lord Byron in her speech. Maxwell shook his head. That woman. And yet again, despite being angry and being surprised at himself for allowing a conversation such as this to occur, he had to admit there was something about her…
The conversation with her, while heated, had stimulated him in a way nothing much had since his father’s death. Often of opposite opinions, he and his father had spent much time debating various subjects over the years. He so enjoyed their talks, even if they often became rather intense.
He hadn’t felt that with anyone until he met the matchmaker. Her fiery temperament and sharp tongue made him feel alive in a way he had not in many years. He watched her walk away, wishing they could have continued their conversation for a while longer.
Up ahead, patrons streamed out of the church, populating the surrounding area. He was busy greeting everyone he knew, which was almost everyone, until he saw the matchmaker approach. She was flanked on the right by his mother, in her Sunday best, and a young woman. She was dressed in a fine white dress that poked out from underneath a purple overcoat. Lord Cladborough walked beside the Duchess.
As they approached him, he noticed that the Earl had a scowl upon his face. He was not quite sure why, for this courtship was as much his doing as the Duchess’s. Maxwell did not know much about the man. In fact, they had met on very few locations. Cladborough was one of those who took their responsibilities regarding the House of Lords rather lightly. He frequently skipped Parliament, attending perhaps one day out of four per week. Maxwell saw him at White’s more often than at the House of Lords. He would try not to hold that against him. Perhaps if this match was a success, he could use the connection to encourage the Earl to attend more often.
The party arrived at his location and the Earl approached Maxwell.
“Your Grace, a pleasure to see you on this fine day.” He gave him a nod of the head, which Maxwell returned.
“The pleasure is all mine.” Not true at all. I’d rather be anywhere but here.
“May I introduce my daughter, Lady Frances Stewart.” The Earl motioned toward his daughter, who curtsied.
“I am delighted to make your acquaintance,” Maxwell said and bowed to the Lady. She smiled, a gloved hand half covering her mouth.
She was pretty, that much was true. She had fair skin, blonde hair, and her eyes were a curious blue and green mix. Still, she looked like any other lady of the ton. While she was dressed fashionably, there was nothing to set her apart from the crowd of women that he found himself surrounded by. There was just nothing special about her. He had hoped for something extraordinary to happen upon their first meeting.
He couldn’t help but think back to the first time he had met the matchmaker. Something about her had struck him immediately. There had just been something about her. A connection. There was none of that with Lady Frances.
Despite the fact that he’d spent the last fifteen minutes arguing with Miss Evans, he couldn’t help but wish for more time with her. Time alone. He’s just so enjoyed her company. Alas, for now, he had to pay attention to Lady Frances. “Shall we walk?” he suggested. That was what they’d agreed upon after all. The group set out to walk along the promenade and Maxwell was beginning to wish he’d spoken in more detail about the setup of this initial meeting. Would his mother and the Earl come along for the entire walk? He felt awkward and insecure, feelings he did not appreciate.
Maxwell and Lady Frances walked a few steps ahead of the rest of the group. While the Duchess, the Earl, and the matchmaker engaged in polite conversation, Maxwell and the Lady walked mostly in silence. She commented on the weather, as did he, but otherwise not many words were exchanged. On occasion, they each greeted assorted acquaintances that passed them by. However, after stopping and chatting with their acquaintances, they’d continue on with their silent walk.
He simply could not think of anything to say to her and apparently neither did she. When they reached Hyde Park Corner, the matchmaker cleared her throat. She addressed the Earl, who appeared rather uncomfortable with the whole setup.
“Well, it was certainly a pleasure to meet you this afternoon, your Lordship. I hope we will soon have occasion to meet again to discuss the upcoming match.”
“Yes, so do I. I am keen to seal this match and move ahead with the marriage.” He addressed Maxwell more so than anyone else. Maxwell bowed.
“Let us hope all goes according to plan.” The Earl nodded.
“I believe my carriage is awaiting me. I shall leave you to it, Lady Frances. I will see you for dinner.”
“As you wish,” Lady Frances replied.
With that, the Earl said his goodbyes, followed in short order by the Duchess. It had been a rather awkward splitting up of the parties, but Maxwell was glad it was done.
* * *
The Lady Frances glanced around the park and every now and then at Maxwell. He struggled to carry on conversation, desperately wishing for the outing to be over. Miss Evans walked to the right of Lady Frances, ever the attentive chaperone. She did her best to encourage conversation.
“The Lady Frances plays the pianoforte, Your Grace.”
“Oh yes?” Maxwell said. He looked at Miss Evans, who nodded.
“I have taken lessons since I was five years of age, Your Grace. I could play a piece for you if you’d like, when the occasion arises.”
“That would be a very pleasurable experience, I am sure,” Maxwell replied. He did not much care for music. Lord Hendley was always attempting to introduce Maxwell to the musical pieces that he enjoyed, but Maxwell could not be persuaded.
“Do you have any pieces you enjoy above others, Lady Frances?” Miss Evans asked, attempting to move forward the conversation.
“Oh, I simply adore Mozart, especially Figaro and The Magic Flute. Those are two of my favorites.”
“How about you, Miss Evans? Do you play an instrument?”
She glared at him. Maxwell smiled, even in this situation, he still got to her. He rather enjoyed it. Though he was aware he was supposed to work on the conversation with the Lady.
“I do not play any instrument of any kind. You, Your Grace?”
“Oh, never! I haven’t a musical bone in my body.”
“How about the theater? Your mother told me you enjoy the theater.”
Ah, the matchmaker was certainly trying her hardest, Maxwell had to admit. Lady Frances perked up upon hearing this.
“You do? I am such a lover of the theater. I
am a lover of all the fine arts. The opera and the ballet, for example. When did you last visit the theater, Your Grace?”
Maxwell shrugged. “I do not particularly care for the arts. I do frequent the opera as a friend of mine enjoys it, and I accompany him and his sisters. I saw Macbeth at the Theater Royal recently.”
“I have seen it, though I prefer lighter pieces,” Lady Frances replied.
“Perhaps you and the Lady Frances can attend the opera soon. It may be a lovely adventure.”
“Perhaps,” Maxwell replied. Upon giving the proposal some thought, he had to agree. It would be a good outing, for it would not require any talking.
“What other pastimes do you enjoy?” Lady Frances attempted to make conversation, but it felt like such a chore to converse with her.
Perfectly Mismatched With The Duke (Historical Regency Romance) Page 7