No, she must complete the task she had been sent here for. If the Duchess were to see Lenora right now, she might be upset at her presence, but she would understand that Lenora had been sent to deliver soup. She would not be angry. But if she were to find Lenora standing like an oaf and staring at the ball, it would be a different matter altogether.
Lenora settled the soup gently on the table, pleased with herself for not having spilled a drop. The cook had filled the serving dish all the way to the brim. Lenora allowed herself a moment to lean over and inhale deeply. The soup smelled spicy and delicious, but not as wonderful as the stews she often made at the end of a night’s work with leftover ingredients from the family’s supper. Evening Stew, as the cook called it, was prepared in the largest kettle in the kitchen, and any member of the staff was allowed to help themselves to a bowl before retiring. It was Lenora’s favorite part of the day.
This soup was a different matter. It had been prepared, Lenora knew, with the aim of impressing the ton. It was French, probably, and something nobody here would have tasted before. An exciting experience for the assembled lords and ladies. But it would not be filling, nor would it be a comfort.
For the first time all evening, Lenora realized, she was not envious of the attendees of the ball. They would have this soup, and that was very fine. But she would have the cook’s stew tonight, and that was better.
A bell rang somewhere in the house indicating that it was time for supper. The guests would be making their way into the dining room momentarily. Lenora knew it was time to go. She retreated quickly into the foyer. She would return to her room now and stay out of the way for the rest of the night.
But as the guests began to file from the ballroom into the dining room, Lenora found that she couldn’t tear herself away. She had never seen such a lavish supper before. She stood in the foyer, hidden behind the door frame, peeking around it to see what would happen now.
The lords and ladies seemed to know where they were meant to sit. Lenora saw Lady Katherine take her seat between two gentlemen. Neither was the handsome lord Lenora had seen her admire during their dance together. Perhaps that was why Lady Katherine looked so put out of countenance. Lenora imagined she had harbored hopes of being seated beside that gentleman.
Where was he?
She realized that she couldn’t locate him anywhere. Had he left the ball? He wouldn’t have done such a thing, would he? It would be terribly rude to leave before supper was served, and he would cause himself to miss out on all the fine foods being offered. Hadn’t he found Lady Katherine appealing? He must have been interested in winning her hand if he had attended her ball and danced with her. Where could he be?
She craned her neck, trying to see farther into the room without making herself visible to the guests within. Could he have seated himself at the very end of the table, perhaps?
But no. He was not there.
The dishes had now begun to be passed, and there was still no sign of Lady Katherine’s chosen lord. Lenora found her attention pulled away from that mystery as the covers were removed from the platters, exposing chicken and venison, fish and prawns, tartlets and cakes. The lord at Lady Katherine’s left side solicitously served her from each dish that passed their way. He was a simpering fool, Lenora thought. Couldn’t he see that Lady Katherine was hardly looking at him? She felt a bit embarrassed for him.
It must be difficult, she imagined, to have to win the affections of a lady such as Lady Katherine. In all the years Lenora had served at the manor, she couldn’t recall Lady Katherine showing genuine affection for anything. But the poor man continued to make every effort.
If I could choose any role for myself at this ball, she thought, it would be to take these poor unfortunates aside and make them aware of the fact that they hadn’t been chosen. Someone ought to let them know, truly.
Soon every plate had been filled and the nobles had begun to eat. Lady Katherine ate daintily, hardly moving any of the food on her plate, and Lenora thought she understood why. The Duchess would have instructed her to be delicate during the supper, to take ladylike bites and show that her appetite was birdlike. The lords would find her delicacy appealing. And indeed, the gentleman at Lady Katherine’s left looked down at her fork, then said something and laughed gently. Lady Katherine blushed delicately up at him.
There’s no denying that she is lovely, Lenora thought.
Would the man who won her hand, her heart, come to realize how unkind she could be? How cruel? And if he did, would such a thing even matter to him? Lenora had a feeling that kindness was not a quality highborn lords necessarily sought in their wives. The Duke did not seem to mind the fact that the Duchess was cruel to her staff, after all. Although, Lenora reflected, it was possible that he was unaware of it. Her personality always seemed to change around her lord husband.
Before long, Lady Katherine had stopped eating entirely. She set down her fork and turned her full attention to the gentleman at her right. The gentleman to her other side looked irritated. He tried a few times to capture her attention, but she looked his way only long enough to be polite before turning back to her preferred dinner companion. Still, Lenora thought, she did not seem captivated by this gentleman. Not the way she had on the dance floor, when she had been partnered with the handsome lord who had since vanished.
Lady Katherine picked up her goblet and took a demure sip of her wine. Her eyes flickered to the doorway. Her eyes met Lenora’s
She sputtered.
A few droplets of wine landed on the fine ivory sleeve of her gown and she let out a cry of outrage and dismay.
Shocked and horrified, Lenora backed away from the door. This would be considered her fault, she knew. She should never have been standing there, should never have been watching the meal. She had upset her Lady. She had to get back to her room, and quickly, before Lady Katherine sent the Duchess out here to reprimand her.
But as she hurried away from the door, she turned and collided with someone.
“I beg your pardon,” she said automatically, her horror multiplying. Now she had collided with one of the guests! She should have stayed upstairs all night. Coming down here had been a mistake. She should have known something like this would happen.
“It’s quite all right,” said a man’s voice.
Lenora looked up.
Her heart sank like a stone.
The gentleman with whom she’d collided was none other than the mysterious lord with whom Lady Katherine had been dancing. The lord she had been looking at with such admiration. Lenora had thought he’d gone, and yet here he was.
He will certainly tell her about my fumbling, she thought despairingly. There would be no hope, now, of avoiding punishment for her actions.
“May I inquire as to your name?” the gentleman asked.
She didn’t dare speak to him. She couldn’t even look at him. What a disaster tonight had turned out to be!
“My apologies,” she mumbled, and ran off toward her room before anything else could go wrong.
Chapter 3
Was there anything in the world more tedious than a ball?
Adrian would vastly have preferred to be at home. He preferred to spend his evenings reading, tending to his horse, Gibraltar, or in conversation with his uncle about world affairs. His idea of a good time was certainly not this sort of affair. In truth, he had only attended the event at all at his lady mother’s insistence. The Dowager Marchioness Galdhor could be quite insistent when it came to such matters.
“Handsome and intelligent you may be, Adrian,” she allowed. “But you must know that appearance isn’t everything, and that brains can take you only so far in this life. You are nearing thirty years of age. It is time for you to wed.”
Time to wed! It sounded like such an ordeal. What would Adrian’s life become with a wife to care for? The hours of solitude he so enjoyed would evaporate like so much dew on the grass. He would never have a moment for his thoughts again!
He had
tried to convince himself that he was wrong in his assessment. A wife could be a comfort. It might be pleasant to have someone else about the manor, someone new to talk to, someone he could even grow to love. Perhaps she would offer him stimulating conversation. Perhaps she would be gentle and kind.
But one dance with the Lady Katherine McLean had dashed his hopes in that regard.
There could be no doubt that she was lovely. She was slender and fair skinned with pale blue eyes and blonde hair that was almost golden. She danced gracefully and smiled prettily and was very becoming indeed in her ivory ball gown.
But she was so tiresome!
She seemed to be incapable of conversation. He had tried asking her whether she was enjoying her ball, but she had merely beamed up at him and said “Oh, yes!” He had then waited, expecting that she might return the question or ask him one of her own, but she seemed to have nothing to say.
Had all the others found it so excruciating to dance with her? They couldn’t have, Adrian reasoned. A couple of lords had even gone back for a second round. They must have enjoyed her company. Or perhaps they were merely so desperate to win her hand in marriage that they would have suffered anything.
Suffer through it, he ordered himself. Soon enough you will be able to go home and tell your lady mother that you made your best effort here. It wasn’t as if there were no other young women in the world. He would find a wife somewhere else, and that would please his mother. And Lady Katherine would choose from among her dozens of suitors. Everyone would be happy in the end.
In the end, maybe. But first, Adrian would have to endure the rest of this interminable ball.
The supper bell chimed, and the rest of the guests began to make their way slowly from the ballroom into the dining room. Adrian held himself back. There would be a clamor, he hoped, to claim a seat next to Lady Katherine, and if he could manage to absent himself for a few moments, he would avoid being seated beside her. He didn’t think he could bear sitting through an entire supper trying to make conversation with her. She was so difficult to talk to. She had absolutely nothing of interest or import to say.
She is a flower, he thought. Lovely and vibrant, but what you see is all you get. There is nothing more to her.
Rather than proceed into the dining room and take a seat near Lady Katherine, Adrian stepped out into the garden for a breath of fresh air. His mother would think him very rude for failing to respond promptly to the supper bell, he knew. But his mother would also be appalled at the fact that he was choosing not to spend time with Lady Katherine when time had been offered. What ails you, Son? she would ask him. Don’t you want to wed her?
He didn’t. Not a bit. Marriage itself he would learn to accept, even to embrace. But not with this lady.
The garden was well appointed and well-tended, if a bit gaudy—someone had filled it with stone statues of cherubs, which Adrian found off-putting. But he was, for the first time all evening, alone, and that was certainly a relief. Even when he hadn’t been forced to make awkward conversation with Lady Katherine, it seemed there had always been someone eager for his attention. Lord Harreton had talked for what felt like hours about having known Adrian’s father, a subject Adrian was none too eager to discuss. And then, as if that hadn’t been bad enough, there was Mr. Gregor Pelham, son of the Earl of Montrose, who had served in the military at the same time as Adrian and seemed to enjoy comparing war stories.
Adrian flatly refused to discuss the war with any of these people.
The memories, for him, were still too raw. He could still hear the screams of his friends. He could still smell the blood in the hot sun. How could anyone want to talk about such things at a party? He wished he could have turned his back on Mr. Pelham and walked away from the conversation. Pelham would certainly have deserved such a snubbing. But Adrian had better breeding than that. He stood there and nodded and pretended Pelham’s words weren’t stinging his soul.
I should never have come to this ball, he thought now, running his fingertips over the needles of a pine bush. I should have put my foot down and simply refused. One didn’t have to go to balls in order to marry. He could have found a pleasant enough young lady, spoken to her father, and made the arrangements quickly and painlessly.
Not for a Duke’s daughter, you couldn’t, his mother’s voice spoke in his mind. For a young lady of this quality, some work is required. You had to attend the ball. You know you did.
He knew. But he certainly did not have to like it. And nor did he have to choose Lady Katherine as his wife.
Eventually, he knew he could linger in the garden no longer. The food would have been served by now. He would have to return and make some excuse for his prolonged absence. Fortunately, it would be impolite for his fellow guests to make too many inquiries as to his whereabouts. He could count on them to leave the subject be, he thought, at the first sign of reticence on his part to discuss it. Still, they would be curious, and there were likely to be whispers behind his back.
Adrian sighed. Sometimes the company of his fellow nobles was more than he could stand. Would that there was just one person he could speak openly to, one person whose conversation captured his interest and stimulated his mind! Was that so very much to ask for?
He wandered back toward the manor doors, moving as slowly as he could. He did not relish returning to the dining hall, fine as the food smelled, and facing all the onlookers and their questioning eyes.
The foyer was empty when he entered, empty but for a serving girl who did not seem to be engaged in serving. She stood with her back to him, leaning ever so slightly around the door frame as if afraid to let Lady Katherine and her guests know she was there. Was the girl spying? This was rather intriguing, he had to admit. He had never seen a servant behave in such a way.
He moved toward the door, hoping his presence would not alarm her when he passed.
But suddenly she staggered back from the door as if she had received a shock. She spun around and ran straight into him with a force that actually caused him to take a step back in surprise.
“Oh!” she cried.
He smiled down at her, hoping to convey that he understood, that her haste was nothing to be ashamed of and that she had nothing to fear from him. She stared up at him, her lips forming a perfect “o” shape.
Adrian had to admit, he was stunned by her.
He had never seen a serving girl of such beauty. In part, he knew, that was because of the drabness of their dress. The clothing afforded to the lower classes did nothing to enhance their looks. But this girl’s ardor couldn’t be suppressed by muslin and a serving cap. She was positively lovely, with finely-carved features, high cheekbones, and thick, glossy-brown hair. The only thing amiss in her appearance was the eyepatch she wore over one eye, but Adrian found this intriguing rather than unsightly. It set her apart.
He shook his head at himself. What would his mother say to this? He had been sent to the manor to woo the Lady Katherine, and instead he was looking at the servants!
But for a servant, she was very lovely indeed.
“May I inquire as to your name?” he found himself asking. He could have bitten his tongue. What had possessed him to ask her such a thing? For goodness’ sake, she was as serving girl. She was likely forbidden from even speaking to Lady Katherine’s guests.
And what did he hope to gain by knowing her name? It wasn’t as if he was planning to call on her. The whole thing was ridiculous.
Still, he found, he wanted to know the answer. He wanted to know what name belonged to such a beauty. He wanted to think about it in his mind later as he replayed this night in his head. The guests were tiresome, and Lady Katherine was tedious, he thought now, but at least there was a moment of fun when I happened to bump into—
Into whom?
She still had not answered. She stared up at him, and her eye was wide with fright. Well, he imagined that both eyes probably were. But he could only see one, and it looked fearful enough to serve for both.
“Apologies,” she murmured, and before he could assure her that no apology was necessary, that she had done no wrong, she had run off and disappeared up the wide staircase to the manor’s upper rooms.
How very strange, he thought. He had never met a servant like her. She had clearly been intrigued by the proceedings of the evening. But something must have frightened her. He had no idea what that could have been, what could have sent her staggering so rapidly away from the dining room. Perhaps she was seen.
But why would Lady Katherine be upset to realize that her serving girl was about? That didn’t make sense. Why, indeed, was it necessary for the girl to spy at all? Adrian had seen dozens of servants tonight. They were hardly concealed. In fact, Adrian could see several more of them moving around in the ballroom, tidying things up and preparing the room for the guests’ return after dinner. He knew these servants would be perfectly visible to the guests currently enjoying their dinner as well.
So, he must have it wrong. The serving girl wouldn’t have run away just because her Lady had seen her. There must have been some other cause, mustn’t there? But what?
There was no making sense of it.
Feeling at a loss, he made his way into the dining room and took a seat at the end of the table, thankful that he had managed to keep a good distance between himself and Lady Katherine. He would be free to eat his supper in silence, perhaps, and to think about the mystery of the serving girl.
* * *
The supper was wonderful—two full courses, each with a selection of exquisite dishes—but Adrian couldn’t seem to settle into his meal. His mind was busy and active, keeping him far away from the table and the food.
Perfectly Mismatched With The Duke (Historical Regency Romance) Page 29