“Oh, yes,” Marian agreed. “It’s refreshing to be able to stretch my legs.”
“I’m Alys,” she said and then waived her hand. “My husband keeps telling me to be more formal, but I find it too exhausting. All the your gracing is rather tedious.”
“You’re American?” Lord Harrington asked.
“Guilty,” she replied. “It’s hard to hide my heritage. My accent will give me away every time.” She smiled. “This might sound rude… But would you care to introduce yourselves? I’m afraid I don’t know—well, anyone. James decided it was time I quit hiding—hence this party.”
That was probably why she hadn’t been able to find any information on the duchess. She was a recluse for the most part, and not much was known about her. There were tidbits of gossip, but most of that was stemmed from jealousy. The new duchess had snatched the duke before anyone had the opportunity to make a go at him. Some of the grande dames were rather irritated at the duchess’s audacity and held it against her.
She applauded the duchess’s ingenuity. The duke had married her despite the stigma it would mean. He must love her a great deal. Marian looked forward to becoming further acquainted with her. “I’m Lady Marian Lindsay,” she answered her. “And this is the Earl of Harrington.”
“Are you two betrothed?”
“Oh, no…” They both said at once.
They must have had equally horrified expressions on their faces. The duchess wrung her hands together. “Oh dear. I’ve blundered, haven’t I?”
Another lady’s laughter echoed through the room. “What have you done now?”
“Rosanna,” she said. “Come greet our new guests.”
This lady was the exact opposite of the duchess. Her hair was as dark as the duchess’s was golden. Her eyes were a blue violet that reminded Marian of the sky before a storm. “Hello,” she said. “I’m the Marchioness of Seabrook, or as my dear sister likes to call me, Rosanna.”
“I can’t handle all these titles,” the duchess replied. “I rather liked it before James insisted I take my place in society. I’d much rather hide here with him and the children.”
The duchess was nothing like Marian had expected. Truthfully, she didn’t quite know what she’d hoped to find when she met her. A stunningly beautiful woman had never entered the picture. She’d wanted a brilliant mind and tutor. This Alys was an enigma—almost untouchable when she was within reach. She might be a duchess, but she was as socially awkward as Marian.
“That’s no life to live.” Rosanna turned to them. “Please excuse our rudeness. We live a quiet life for the most part. Alys isn’t used to society’s strictures and this house party is introducing her to the finer points involved. When it’s time for the children to attend functions, it will be better for us all.”
“For you maybe…” The duchess scrunched her nose up. “I wasn’t raised in a barn. I do have some manners.”
“Society can be rather tedious,” Marian offered. “I’d much rather hide myself.”
“That would be a shame,” Jonas said smoothly. “You shouldn’t hide any more then these two lovely ladies. Although you do it rather well in plain sight,” His lips tilted upward arrogantly. “No need to do anything differently if that’s your goal.”
“Oh, do be quiet.” Marian glared at him. She should have abandoned him and found Kaitlin and Samantha immediately. Why had she allowed him to escort her inside? She glanced around the room trying to find the two ladies, but there were too many people gathered in the foyer and she didn’t spot them. Servants bustled in and out with various trunks and other duties. Drat. She frowned and then said to Lord Harrington, “No one asked for your opinion.”
He’d been pleasant for longer than normal. Why was she not surprised? He wasn’t being mean exactly, but niceness had long past left the conversation. What had made him turn grumpy and rude?
“And here I thought we were getting along rather well,” he drawled. “My mistake.”
“Indeed,” Marian agreed.
“I suppose I should find my room and rest. It’s been a long day already.” He winked.
He was incorrigible. The other ladies must think she was a veritable hussy. She glanced at them but couldn’t discern anything from the expression on their faces. They both had matching serene smiles. She narrowed her gaze. No, that wasn’t right either. They seemed almost—shrewd.
“One of the servants can show you where to go.” The duchess told Lord Harrington. “Rest, and maybe at dinner you’ll feel more yourself.”
Lord Harrington bowed. “It’s been a pleasure, your grace.” Then he spun on his heels and headed to a nearby servant. Soon after, he followed the servant up the stairs and disappeared from sight.
“I hope Lord Harrington didn’t offend you.”
“Not at all,” the duchess said.
“We’re used to gruff men.” Rosanna offered. “My husband is a charmer, but there are times I could strangle him. Men are so frustrating.”
In that regard, Marian agreed. “They are a trial.” She wasn’t married to Lord Harrington, yet she wanted to pummel him more often than not. Why did men bring that out in a person? If living with them didn’t change that feeling, why did women deign to marry at all? Surely a family wasn’t worth that kind of hassle.
“If I didn’t love him…” Rosanna shook her head. “Don’t misunderstand me. Dom is a wonderful husband and father. That doesn’t make him perfect—just perfect for me.”
The duchess stared at the stairs with her head tilted to the side. What was she thinking? “Are you sure you and the earl…”
“Yes,” Marian interrupted the duchess. “I’m not marrying him or any one.”
“That’s too bad,” she said. “I’ve never seen two people so in tune with each other that professed so hard against a relationship. You might want to take a long, hard look and decide if being apart from him is really what you want.”
“I have other plans for my life.” Which had no room for the likes of the Earl of Harrington. “I was hoping I could talk to you about them while I’m here.”
This was as good a time as any to ask the duchess about her medical skills. If she did have the training to be a doctor, it wouldn’t be long before Marian could have that too—as long as she agreed to tutor her. She hoped she hadn’t made the trip for nothing. She wanted to be a doctor so bad…
“Oh?” the duchess raised a brow. “We can sit down and have a long chat later. I’m rather curious now, but I think that those two ladies are trying to gain your attention.”
Marian turned. On the other side of the room, Samantha waved at her. Kaitlin smiled serenely and fidgeted in place. Thank God—she’d been wondering where they were. It was nice to meet the duchess, but she wanted to relax with her friends. She’d started to believe they’d gone off without her. It was a relief to realize they still waited for her. With a sigh, she glanced back at the duchess. She did have a whole fortnight to talk to the duchess about her skills as a doctor. It wouldn’t hurt to wait a little bit longer. “If you’ll excuse me,” Marian said. “That’s my cousin and my longtime friend. We traveled together, and I’ve kept them waiting long enough. It was good to meet you two.”
“It’s our pleasure,” the marchioness replied. “I need to check on the children in the nursery. Go join your companion’s.” Then she said to the duchess, “Would you like to accompany me.”
“Yes,” the duchess replied. “I need to check on the twins. They are constantly getting into some kind of mischief.” She smiled at Marian. “Have a pleasant day.”
After that, the two women went up the stairs, not once glancing back at Marian. She took a deep breath, and then went to join Kaitlin and Samantha. They would have questions, and it was better to answer them now. Later, maybe, she could have another conversation with the duchess. For now, she would relax and acclimate herself to the idiosyncrasies of Weston Manor—her home for the time being.
CHAPTER 10
RESTLESSNESS WA
SN’T something that Jonas had ever become used to and probably never would. He hated being idle, and the offerings of entertainment at Weston Manor left little to be desired. He’d kill for a decent game of cards or anything that didn’t involve giggling innocents echoing through the corridors. What the hell had he signed up for? Was escaping whatever evil plan his grandfather concocted worth this? The country house party was made up of every one of his worst nightmares. He didn’t know if he’d survive an entire fortnight of the constant ennui.
He wandered the hall until he found a game room. It had a billiards table as its center piece. If he had someone to play a game with, it might help to alleviate his boredom. Shelby had disappeared, and Asthey took grumpiness to extremes. Jonas had no idea what was going on with his two friends. He suspected that Shelby had found a maid, or three, to amuse himself with. Asthey was an entirely different story. The very fact he joined them for the trip had been a surprise. Whenever he was ready to tell them what was going on, he would. Asthey was the type to keep things to himself and only ask for help when left no other option.
Jonas ran his hand across the table longingly. He could play a game by himself, but what fun was that? He sighed and considered locating some good brandy instead. Surely the duke had a bar of some sort in the room. What good was a game room without some spirits to imbibe?
“Do you play?”
Jonas jerked his head toward the sound. He found his host leaning against the doorframe. He hadn’t actually met the Duke of Weston, but everyone knew who he was—at least those currently at the house party. He’d been discreetly pointed out before dinner in the drawing room the night before.
“I’m not particularly good,” Jonas admitted. “I haven’t had the opportunity to hone my skills.” Cards, on the other hand, were as easy as breathing for him.
“I thought I’d find Dom down here,” the duke walked toward the table. “He tends to hide in here whenever possible.”
“Dom?” Jonas raised an eyebrow.
“The Marquess of Seabrook,” the duke explained. “I had hoped to speak to him about a few things.”
“I didn’t see anyone when I came in,” Jonas offered. He wasn’t entirely sure who the marquess was. He had heard things about him in passing, but they didn’t run in the same circles.
“Ah, it can wait.” The duke gestured toward the table. “Care to try a game with me.”
“I don’t know…” Jonas didn’t want to be rude; however, he really was a horrible player.
“I’ll set it up,” the duke said, ignoring Jonas’s uncertainty. “It’ll help pass the time. The ladies are having a garden party of some sort later. We’ll be expected to make an appearance. Alys will kill me if I miss it.”
He assumed Alys was the duke’s wife. Statements like that made Jonas rather glad he hadn’t taken the plunge to marry. He didn’t want to consider a woman’s tender feelings. “What does one do at a garden party?” He’d never attended anything of the sort and didn’t especially want to now. Truthfully, he rather dreaded it. At least it would give him the opportunity to see Marian. There were several eligible gentlemen in attendance and he wanted to see if any of them had sparked an interest in her. Then he’d quietly dissuade them of the notion. It was perhaps wrong of him, but he didn’t want any other male near her.
“I have no idea, and I’m not sure I’d want to.” The duke grinned. “All I can say with certainty is it’s in the garden.”
“Interesting,” Jonas said. “Please tell me that there are plenty of places to, uh, hide in your garden.” Maybe he could lure Marian into one of those spots…
The duke’s laugher echoed through the room. “I think I’m going to like you. It’s Lord Harrington, correct?”
“Yes,” he replied. “But please call me Jonas. If we’re going to be friends, we should be on more friendly terms.” Most people called him Harrington, but Asthey and Shelby called him Jonas in private. In society they kept up with propriety. Something told Jonas the duke wouldn’t stand on formality. He liked the idea of having the duke as a more intimate friend.
“Then you must call me James,” he replied.
Jonas’s lips tilted upward. It was good to realize his skills at reading people were still intact. Maybe this house party wasn’t as bad as he thought it was. The Duke of Weston was a powerful man, and in the fight with his grandfather he could use as many men of his ilk as he could gather.
The duke finished setting the table and then turned to grab a cue stick. “You may go first,” James offered.
“All right,” Jonas said. He lined up his stick and struck the ball. The red ball went flying across the table, bouncing off the sides, but failed to land in a pocket—no points earned. Well, that hadn’t changed either. He was still horrid at billiards.
James slapped his back. “Don’t be hard on yourself. There have been many times I’ve made a similar mistake.” He leaned forward and took his shot. It went perfectly, gaining him several points. Finally, he gave Jonas another shot after failing to score.
“Are you showing him how it’s done?” Another male said as he leaned against the door frame much the same way the duke had.
“Dom,” James bellowed. “Come in. You can play next.”
“Perhaps you should give Lord Harrington a break. Not everyone loves billiards the way you do.”
“It’s all right,” Jonas said. “I don’t mind losing. Sometimes we need to be defeated a few times in order to find our way back to the top.” He hit a ball and missed—again. This time he hadn’t even hit his ball against another—it had just bounced off the bank back and forth. There were only three balls on the table; how could he miss so many times?
“Touché.” The marquess strolled into the room. “I can see why James likes you.”
How had he known that by observing them? Maybe he should ask how long the marquess had been standing in the doorway. He seemed like the type of man that saw far more than a person wanted him to. “Looks can be deceiving,” Jonas replied.
“Also true,” Dom agreed. “But no one knows James better than I do. If he didn’t like you, he’d never have bothered with you this long.”
“He’s right.” The duke landed another shot, gaining several more points in the combination move. “But I don’t let anyone win.”
“And you shouldn’t,” Jonas replied. “You’re good.” The duke was as skilled at billiards as Jonas was at cards. “Perhaps you’d consider a game of whist next time instead.”
“He’s good at cards too.” The marquess laughed. Then he directed his attention to Weston and said, “You should give the man a chance to win at something.”
Damn. What wasn’t the duke good at? Jonas was almost afraid to ask. He’d learn over time, he suspected. The marquess and the duke appeared to have as close a friendship as he had with Shelby and Asthey.
“Dom is wrong on one point,” James replied as he made another spectacular shot. “Alys might have more insight than he does regarding me.”
“That might be true.” The marquess picked up a stick. “I’ll have to share notes with her later at this garden party. Whose idea was that one?”
“I believe your wife was instrumental in planning all of the events for this house party,” the duke answered. “So, if you have a problem with any of it, perhaps you should talk to her.”
“My wife also happens to be your sister.” The marquess lifted a brow. “Are you perhaps hoping I’ll scold her for you?”
Jonas held back a grin. Their conversation reminded him of Shelby and his constant complaining about Samantha. At least she wasn’t married to one of his friends. Jonas had never been interested in Samantha. A good thing all around because Shelby would have murdered him... His friend was rather protective of his little sister. For that reason, Jonas and Asthey kept their distance. They rather liked breathing and all that.
“I wouldn’t dream of it. Rosanna can be rather bloodthirsty.” James gestured toward the stick in Dom’s hand. “Have you c
hanged your mind?”
“I’ll need a glass of brandy if I’m going to endure your theatrical bragging,” Dom replied. “Where you hiding it these days?”
Jonas laughed. Dom was a man after his own heart. He’d wanted a drink from the moment he’d entered the billiard room. “Pour me one too.”
James sighed. “It’s behind the statue on that shelf over there. Alys keeps trying to pour it all out. She says alcohol of any kind is bad for me. Next, she’ll try to monitor what I eat. Damn her and her scientific brain…”
Scientific brain? What did Weston mean by that? The duke said some peculiar things, but Jonas didn’t want to be rude and question him about it. Maybe he’d offer some insight later on. Though he could appreciate being rather ruffled by a female—Marian drove him insane and they weren’t married.
“You’re the one who married the biggest bluestocking known to man,” Dom said. “Now you have to live with it.”
Marian was a bluestocking… It sounded as if she would have a lot in common with the Duchess of Weston. Maybe that was why they’d appeared to get along so well when they first arrived. The duchess had seemed taken with Marian. Had they become more acquainted since then? He longed to see Marian even if it was to share barbs with her.
“That I do,” James agreed. “I wouldn’t change it for anything.”
Dom grinned and poured three glasses of brandy. Then he carried them over. James and Jonas took a glass from him. Dom raised a glass and toasted, “To the women who drive us crazy.”
“And we love them anyway.” James clinked his glass with Dom’s then with Jonas’s.
Their toast made him think about Marian. Hell, he never stopped thinking of her. She was constantly on his mind these days. They weren’t married—they were barely acquaintances—but somehow their toast seemed to apply to him anyway. Something that rather scared him more than he was willing to admit. He shook his head, and that thought away, and took a sip of his brandy, but the image of her fiery red hair wouldn’t go away. Bloody hell…
Dashing Rogues: A Historical Romance Collection Page 27