‘You’re well informed,’ Brin remarked.
‘It’s what I do,’ Kent replied languidly, sipping at his drink.
‘What do you make of Lady Hazel?’ Kent asked. ‘Quite the beauty, wouldn’t you say?’
‘She’s certainly pretty enough,’ Brin replied diplomatically.
‘But doesn’t appear that impressed by your ducal splendour,’ Nyle added, chuckling. ‘Or was that display of maidenly reticence designed to impress?’
Brin couldn’t have cared either way, but frowned when some impudent cove fawned over Miss Dorset for a little too long. She laughed at something he said to her and seemed perfectly at ease with the man. Damn, it was Lady Hazel’s brother and he was clearly smitten. Brin felt the stirrings of jealousy, which was ridiculous. He had never had cause to be jealous of anything or anyone and wasn’t about to start now.
When Kent and Nyle were claimed by others, Brin worked his way around the room, deftly ensuring that he finished up close to the lady who had taken his interest. She had been cornered by Brin’s sister Constance, who appeared to be boring Miss Dorset, judging by the way that lady’s attention kept wandering to other parts of the room, with a convoluted account of a ball she had recently attended.
Before Miss Dorset’s patience could be too severely tested, Constance moved away and Brin took his opportunity.
‘Go away,’ Miss Dorset said crossly. ‘I am completely out of charity with you. You tricked me and allowed me to embarrass myself.’
‘I hesitate to disagree with anything you say—’
She tossed her head. ‘But you will anyway.’
‘Certainly I will. I did try to introduce myself. It was you who wanted to pretend you were someone else.’
She pursed her lips, clearly looking for flaws in his argument before reluctantly nodding. ‘I suppose you did. Even so, I should have realised who you were when Shadow obeyed you so readily,’ she said in a reflective tone. ‘I simply assumed that as host you would be too busy to wander about in the rain, accosting strangers.’
‘As a guest, the same should apply to you.’
She gave him a wry smile. ‘Thank you for reminding me of my shortcomings, but I think it safe to say that whilst my absence might have been noticed this afternoon, it was not lamented.’
‘My mother’s loss was my gain. I am sorry if she is being discourteous.’
‘All well and good, your grace, but you will have to do a great deal better than that if you wish to make up for your shocking lapse earlier. Besides, you should not be talking to me at all. You are supposed to be paying court to my friend.’
Brin glanced across the room to the place where Lady Hazel was in animated conversation with his sister Avril and Daniel Anglesey. ‘I don’t think she is in the least bit interested in me.’
‘How mortifying. I expect that is a new experience for you, and terribly bad for your pride.’
Brin laughed. ‘Infuriating female. You seem determined to provoke me.’
‘Which is no less than you deserve.’
‘You are absolutely right.’ He bowed, valiantly attempting to suppress a smile which broke across his face anyway. Seldom given to smiling, he appeared to do a great deal of it in this glorious creature’s company. ‘I am a disreputable fellow, and probably best avoided.’
She took a delicate sip of her drink, drawing Brin’s attention to her delectable lips and the smooth curve of her face. ‘All well and good, but if you insist upon clinging to me, how can I avoid you?’ Her green eyes sparkled with amusement. ‘Besides, your mother is scowling at us.’
‘And you care about upsetting her?’ He sent her a challenging look. ‘I thought you had more courage than that.’
‘Not I, sir.’ She gave a mock shudder that had him smiling again. ‘You mistake me for a heroine in someone’s story.’
‘Impossible. You are unique.’
‘If that was intended as a compliment then I thank you for it. Oh lord, your mother is about to join us.’
‘Brinley! Miss Dorset must excuse you. We are about to go in, and you have a duty to escort our principal guest.’
Brin’s expression hardened as he narrowed his eyes at his mother. She had yet to come to terms with the fact that he would not be bullied in his own home. She had been the sole authority figure at Wentworth Abbey since the death of Brin’s father and during Brin’s years in India, and was reluctant to accept that Brin would not dance to her tune.
‘With the greatest of pleasure.’ He proffered his arm. ‘Miss Dorset. Will you do me the honour?’
‘I did not mean…’
Miss Dorset glanced at his mother’s glacial expression and hesitated. Then her rebellious character came to the fore, just as he had known that it would.
‘With pleasure,’ she replied, sweeping past his mother on Brin’s arm with her head held high. ‘Not that it will be any sort of pleasure,’ she said beneath her breath, as other couples formed up and followed them into the dining parlour. ‘Not only must I endure your company, but I have now made an enemy of your mother. She resents me as it is, and she will now assume that I beguiled you with my questionable charms, which is really rather silly of her. I don’t have the first idea how to beguile.’ She grinned up at him in spite of her pretence at annoyance. ‘I am expected to count myself fortunate to be here and to know my place, which ought to be somewhere below the salt and…’
‘I’ll strike a bargain with you, Miss Dorset. We will forget all about my mother’s approval or lack thereof, not mention her name again this evening and enjoy the next few hours at table.’ He sent her a challenging look. ‘What do you say?’
‘I do believe you take pleasure from behaving outrageously. Well, I suppose you can afford to do so at my expense since you already know that I don’t much care about offending anyone.’ She sent him an impish smile. ‘Very well. You should know that I seldom back down from a challenge, so I accept your terms.’
‘I am glad,’ he replied in an intimate drawl, now looking forward to a meal that had previously held little appeal. He reached the head of the table and held out the chair on his right-hand side for her. She thanked him as she settled herself in it and arranged her skirts to her satisfaction.
Brin stood, as did all the gentlemen, until the last of the ladies had taken her chair. He then swished the tails of his coat aside and assumed his own, sparing a casual glance for the seating arrangements.
‘Your friend seems relaxed,’ he remarked, watching Lady Hazel as she laughed spontaneously at something Anglesey, who had conducted her to table, said to her.
‘I am sure your pride will eventually recover from the knowledge that not every female in the room pines for your company.’
‘That wasn’t what I meant to imply.’
‘Ah, I see.’ Miss Dorset picked up her spoon, took a sip of mock turtle soup and nodded her approval. ‘You are relieved that Hazel’s interest in you is not abiding. I suppose I can understand that, even though you ought to be disappointed. She is easily the most beautiful lady in the room and has the sweetest possible character.’ She lowered her voice to the mischievous whisper that he had already grown very attached to. ‘I am supposed to help promote your interest in her and so I can now truthfully assure Lady Beardsley that I did my very best to point out Hazel’s charms and accomplishments, which are copious enough to be intimidating. She puts me and all other females, to shame.’
‘Beauty fades, Miss Dorset, but character endures. I have yet to meet a beautiful woman whose conversation holds my interest.’
Miss Dorset arched a delicate brow. ‘You require an intellectual duchess?’
‘There you go again, putting words into my mouth.’
‘Well, you cannot have it both ways.’ She put her spoon aside, picked up her wine glass and took a small sip as she sent him a sideways glance through those remarkable emerald eyes. ‘You claim not to be an admirer of feminine beauty, and have expressed a preference for character.’ She tilted he
r head. ‘I am not entirely sure how to interpret that comment, other than to suppose that you would prefer to have someone with whom you can hold an interesting conversation. But there again, perhaps you have no real interest in finding a duchess and intend to hide yourself away in this labyrinth of a house with just your books and Shadow for company.’ She sent him an envious look. ‘In your position, I would be tempted to do precisely that.’
She glanced again at Lady Hazel, who sent Miss Dorset a beatific smile. The gesture gave Brin pause. It was evident that Lady Hazel bore Miss Dorset no ill-will for usurping the place at Brin’s side that she had probably been led to believe would be hers. He glanced at his mother’s scowling countenance, aware that he had spoiled her plans in that regard. He suppressed a sigh, wondering if the mother with whom he was barely acquainted would ever accept that he was very much his own man.
‘You are very direct,’ Brin said, smiling at her.
She lifted one shoulder in a delicate shrug. ‘I did warn you this afternoon that I have a propensity for speaking my mind. We all know why so many young single ladies have been invited to join a party that is traditionally an all-male affair. I refer to your determination to shoot harmless birds, of course, not your search for a duchess, which I am unsure if you have yet decided to undertake.’
Brin chuckled, endlessly amused by her candid expression and engaging character. ‘You are taking up the cause of the birds that plague my estate it seems without stopping to consider that if their numbers are not culled, they will overrun the place and we will never have another successful harvest.’
Her eyes sparkled as she sent him an arch smile that was completely devoid of flirtatiousness. Having embarked upon this week, dreading the tedious need to fend off flirtatious overtures, he now found himself growing increasingly determined to tease this particular female into doing precisely that. Ye gods, was he running completely mad? He took a long sip of his wine as he considered that very real possibility.
‘I fully appreciate the necessity to keep their numbers down,’ she assured him, ‘but I don’t think you play fair by sending boys out to beat the birds into the air. It’s hardly sporting.’
‘To appease your conscience, Miss Dorset, I shall deliberately miss my target.’
‘And become the subject of derision amongst your peers?’ She tutted and shook her head, setting curls dancing around her face. ‘I couldn’t possibly ask it of you. The birds will just have to take their chances. However, we digress.’ She sat back to allow a footman to remove her soup plate, thanking him when he had done so. ‘We were discussing your marital aspirations, or lack thereof.’
‘You were speaking of them, Miss Dorset. I would much prefer to change the subject.’
‘Well, I suppose that is your prerogative. You are a duke, and so I am naturally terrified of you—’
Brin choked on a laugh, drawing the attention of the entire table and earning him an especially ferocious scowl from his mother. ‘I cannot imagine you being terrified of anything or anyone, Miss Dorset.’
Her smile turned playful. ‘Perhaps that’s because I am very good at disguising my feelings.’
‘I have never met any female less accomplished at pretence. You speak spontaneously, often without bothering to temper your opinions.’
‘Or defer to my betters. How very disobliging of you to see through me so easily.’ She looked at him over the rim of her wine glass. ‘However, if you do not wish to speak of your intentions then you can rest assured that I shall not quiz you on the subject.’ She fell into momentary reflection. ‘I think it a very great pity that you cannot make up your own mind on the matter of matrimony without causing endless speculation amongst your family and friends. But that’s all part and parcel of being born into a privileged position, I expect. If you want to complain about the unfairness of it then I shall be more than happy to listen, but I should warn you that you can expect little sympathy from me.’
‘So cold-hearted,’ he responded, amusement in his tone.
She grinned at him. ‘Absolutely.’
Brin turned his attention to the lady on his opposite side, as table manners required him to. Miss Dorset was treated to Kent’s infectious good humour, since he had orchestrated the seat on her other side. There was a great deal of playful laughter between the two of them and Brin found himself resenting Kent’s easy ability to amuse her.
‘I understand that you are staying with Lady Hazel for several months,’ he said, having discharged his duty towards the lady on his left and returned his attention to Miss Dorset.
‘Yes, which is why your lady mother felt obliged, or was more likely coerced into extending the invitation to include me, and why you find me here, speaking so outlandishly. I can see that the duchess regrets my presence. She isn’t exactly subtle. However, we agreed not to speak of her. Oh dear.’ She covered her mouth with one gloved hand but her smile was too broad for her small hand to completely disguise it. ‘You are making things very difficult for me. We cannot speak about your search for a suitable duchess, or your mother’s disapproval of me. The shooting of innocent birds is also highly contentious.’ She turned to him with a look of polite enquiry. ‘Tell me, your grace, how are you enjoying this exceptionally fine spell of weather?’
Brin roared with laughter, again drawing attention to them both but simply not caring. He couldn’t recall the last time he had enjoyed a woman’s company quite so comprehensively. He noticed Kent and Nyle both sending him the occasional amused glance. They would both, he knew, be recalling the dare that they’d set him earlier that day and would doubtless take an early opportunity to remind him that he had found the ideal candidate to take it up with.
‘So, we are reduced to discussing the weather,’ he said languidly.
‘It seems safer. That way, there’s less chance of me giving offence.’
He chuckled. ‘You will have to work a great deal harder if your intention is to offend me. I have an incredibly thick skin.’
‘Beware what you wish for,’ she replied with a charmingly provocative look.
‘We were discussing your tenure with Lady Hazel. What brought that about?’
‘Prepare to be shocked,’ she warned with a playful smile.
‘I am now intrigued.’
‘She and I met in a deportment class, of all places.’
He sent her a wide-eyed look of surprise. ‘You?’
She raised a slender shoulder. ‘There’s no need to sound so astonished.’
‘I was surprised, but only because your connections thought there was any need.’
‘I’ll let you into a little secret, your grace.’ She leaned slightly towards him and lowered her voice, her face alight with renewed mischief. ‘I have always been something of a tomboy. My mother died when I was quite small.’ A brief flash of regret temporarily quelled the sparkle in her eyes. ‘Papa never remarried, and I was left more or less to my own devices, with only an older brother to occasionally recall that I existed. I wanted to be just like him, since I didn’t know any better.’
‘You didn’t have a governess?’
‘Oh, I did, but…well, I’m afraid I ran rings around her.’ She set her fish knife aside, trying and miserably failing to look contrite. ‘I finished up teaching her some things that she didn’t already know. I have an innate sense of curiosity, you see, and always had my nose in a book as a child—when I wasn’t climbing trees or dashing about bareback on ponies, that is. Not a very ladylike admission to make, I’m sure. Not the trees and ponies, but the thirst for knowledge.’
‘Your secret will remain safe with me,’ he assured her, smiling because he couldn’t seem to help himself. This gloriously unconventional creature was endlessly engaging.
‘Ladies, I’m told, are not supposed to be too clever, or show much interest in anything other than fashion and the latest parties, which is rather unfortunate since both subjects bore me rigid. We are supposed to be the weaker sex, helpless and totally dependent upon menf
olk, which I find ridiculous.’
Brin valiantly fought yet another smile. ‘I am perfectly sure that you do.’
‘I mean, one cannot help having an enquiring mind, and I fail to see why I should apologise for that, or indeed attempt to cover it up. If men are so insecure that they are afraid of being outwitted by a feeble woman, then they are not worth knowing.’
‘Don’t tar us all with the same brush, Miss Dorset.’ He fixed her with a penetrating look. ‘I am not afraid of you.’
‘No, I don’t suppose you are. And that is not what I meant to imply.’ Her cheeks coloured, as though she regretted leaving him with the impression that she looked upon him with romantic ambitions. Sadly, Brin sensed that she did not.
‘You met Lady Hazel at a deportment class and became friends,’ he suggested, steering the conversation back onto ground that was less likely to embarrass his lively companion.
‘Yes. Her mother doesn’t approve, of course, but Hazel can be remarkably tenacious when there is something that she particularly wants.’ Miss Dorset’s gaze rested upon her friend, in animated conversation with Anglesey, causing Brin to wonder if his mother’s efforts were doomed to failure since her interest was obviously engaged elsewhere. ‘My father and brother are in trade,’ she added in a theatrical whisper, ‘which, naturally, offends Lady Beardsley’s sensibilities.’
‘Shocking,’ Brin agreed, somehow managing to keep a commendably straight face.
‘It’s all very well for you to mock. I mean, everyone knows you went to India to restore your family’s fortune, but because you are a duke nobody dares to judge you. In Papa’s case, it is a very different story.’
Never Dare a Duke Page 5