Entering her chamber, she found her maid curled up in a chair. “Wake up, drowsy-head. I’m back.”
Polly jerked her head up. “Oh, miss. I’m so sorry. I must have fallen asleep.”
“Next time lie down on the sofa. It will be much more comfortable.” Dotty wished she could tell her maid not to wait up, but there was no one else to help her. “Unfortunately, I’ll never get out of this gown without your help.”
“It don’t matter.” Polly yawned. “May told me all about the late nights.”
Dotty pressed her lips together. “Be that as it may, you need rest as well. Try to find time to take a nap during the day, or if that is not possible, do so after I leave. I promise, I shall understand.”
Once she was in her nightgown, she dismissed her maid and sat on the window seat. Tonight everything had been perfect. All the gentlemen were polite and danced well, but Merton stood out as the most handsome, most graceful, and kindest. He was the one who had enabled her to dance her first London waltz. Although he had not asked her again, she had caught him glancing at her throughout the evening, and he never danced with another lady more than once.
She sighed. It was probably much too soon to form an attachment. Then she remembered her mother saying that the first time she saw Papa, she knew he was the one. Perhaps it would be the same for her. But would the gentleman feel the same? Perhaps, she should have gotten her father’s side of the story as well.
Chapter Six
Dom handed his mother into the town coach waiting for them outside of Almack’s and closed the door. “I have decided to walk.”
“Good night then, dear. I won’t wait up for you.”
He tapped the side of the vehicle and it started forward. Alvanley’s comments concerning Miss Stern stuck in Dom’s mind and wouldn’t let go. A baronet’s daughter. Of course many peers wouldn’t think anything of it. She was after all a lady. But the Marquis of Merton, his uncle had said, never married out of the peerage. Even if the family was old and respected.
The problem was she was everything he had ever dreamed of. Not that he had actually dreamed of a lady, but when he saw her he knew she was what he wanted. And he had dreamed of her last night.
Lush pink lips, hair blacker than midnight with fine curls that danced around her slim shoulders. Her green eyes put emeralds to shame. Her gown had given him tantalizing glimpses as to what lay beneath. Her bodice cut just low enough so as to give him a hint of the lovely milk-white mounds. He had never liked the low necklines many gentlemen admired, but damn if he didn’t wish her gown had been the slightest bit lower. But then, other gentlemen would see her charms as well. He didn’t want that. She incited him with a desire he’d never had for a woman. Yet perhaps that was the very reason he should look elsewhere. Passion, or rather love in a marriage, was to be avoided.
Uncle Alasdair said it always ended badly. It was that which caused the untimely deaths of Dom’s father and his grandfather before him. His uncle told him how his father was showing off for Mama when he died, and his grandfather had tried to make it through a storm to get to his grandmother’s side when she was sick. Grandmamma had lived, but his grandfather never recovered from the chill he had caught. What ill would befall Dom and thus his family if he married for love rather than duty?
Turning the corner into Grosvenor Square, he shrugged, attempting to dislodge the weight that had descended. He had invited Miss Stern to the opera, but after that he should probably put her out of his mind. The door opened as he climbed the steps. He handed the servant his hat and cane. “Good evening, Paken.”
Bowing, his butler replied, “I trust you had a pleasant evening, my lord?”
“As expected.” Dom turned toward the left and started down the corridor to his study. He didn’t drink much, but right now he desperately needed a brandy.
* * *
Eunice turned her head in the direction of the door to the corridor. “Well?”
“He’s home, my lady,” her maid said. “Don’t look too happy about it either. Went to his study and called for brandy.”
“That may be a good sign. He doesn’t normally drink spirits and never alone.” Yet, due to all the nonsense Alasdair had filled Dominic’s head with, she never actually knew. A mother should know her child better than she did. “Matilda, do you think he could be smitten with Miss Stern?”
Matilda’s lips formed a moue. “He certainly had trouble keeping his eyes off her tonight. On the other hand, he did not single her out.”
“No.” Eunice frowned. “Although, even if he is interested, one could not expect him to indicate it at Almack’s. It would cause too much talk. He did manage to be the first to waltz with her.”
Her cousin fell quiet for a moment, then said, “Perhaps at the Featherington ball he will make more of a push. He is just so cautious.”
“So unlike his father.” Eunice sighed. “Why, when David saw me for the first time, he finagled an introduction and barely left my side until the accident.”
She blinked back the tears.
Matilda reached over and patted Eunice’s hand. “There, there. You didn’t have him for long, but you know he loved you.”
She took out a handkerchief and dabbed at her cheeks. “Yes. I never for a moment doubted his love. Now, if only Dominic could find the same type of love, I wouldn’t worry about him so much.” She sniffed one last time and took a sip of wine. “What do we know about the girl?”
“According to your cousin, Grace, she is the daughter of the local squire. Sir Henry Stern . . .” Matilda told Eunice all the information she’d been able to glean over the course of the evening. It was not much as Grace had been busy with her charges and stepmother-in-law as well as friends who had stopped by. Still it was enough for Eunice to form an opinion.
She took another swallow of wine. “Miss Stern sounds perfect. Someone who will challenge Dominic rather than be cowed by him.”
