“Parliamentary reform?” Dorset looked as if Hereford had suggested discussing sheep farming. “I hadn’t realized Lady Hereford was politically inclined.”
“Among her many talents,” Hereford replied, his gaze softening as it met Amelia’s. “Though her most remarkable quality is her ability to see through pretense. It’s quite uncanny.”
Dorset shifted uncomfortably. “Indeed? How… unusual.”
The rest of dinner passed more pleasantly as conversation turned to safer topics. Amelia found herself watching Hereford when he wasn’t looking—the easy grace with which he navigated social waters, the genuine interest he showed in others’ conversations, the way his laugh transformed his face from merely handsome to truly striking.
After dinner, as the men prepared to retire for port while the ladies withdrew to the drawing room, Hereford caught her elbow.
“I’ll join the gentlemen briefly, then make our excuses,” he murmured. “Unless you’re enjoying yourself?”
“I’ve endured worse evenings,” she replied, no longer surprised by the consideration. “Though I wouldn’t object to an early departure.”
His smile was conspiratorial. “Give me half an hour.”
True to his word, Hereford appeared in the drawing room shortly after, smoothly inserting himself into the conversation around Amelia.
“I apologize, ladies, but I must steal my wife away,” he announced with practiced charm. “We have an early engagement tomorrow.”
As they made their farewells, the dowager marchioness drew Amelia aside. “You conducted yourself well tonight,” she said, her tone reluctantly approving. “Though that gown really is too daring for a woman of your position.”
“Thank you for your concern,” Amelia replied evenly. “And for your intervention with Lady Beecham earlier.”
“Yes, well. Family matters should remain private.” The older woman hesitated, then added more quietly, “Charles seems different with you.”
“Different how?”
“More focused. Less frivolous,” the dowager said after consideration. “More like his father in his better days.” Her expression softened fractionally. “It suits him.”
Before Amelia could respond to this revelation, Hereford appeared at her side. “Mother, we really must be going. I’m sure we’ll see you soon.”
The dowager reached up to straighten his cravat, the gesture maternal. “Mind you take care of your wife, Charles. She handled Gertrude admirably, but these gatherings can be exhausting for those unaccustomed to them.”
Despite the look of surprise, Hereford said nothing and only kissed his mother farewell.
In the carriage ride home, a comfortable silence settled between them—unexpected after the tension of the evening.
“Thank you,” Amelia said finally. “For extracting us at a reasonable hour.”
“My pleasure.” Hereford leaned back against the cushions, looking more relaxed than she’d seen him all evening. “You were magnificent, you know. Even Aunt Gertrude seemed impressed, and she once reduced a visiting ambassador to tears over dinner.”
Amelia smiled despite herself. “Your family is formidable.”
“They’re dragons, the lot of them,” he corrected with a chuckle. “Though Mother seemed almost approving of you by the end.”
“I’m still bewildered by your mother defending me against Lady Beecham.”
Hereford’s expression softened. “Despite her many faults, Motherunderstands dignity. She wouldn’t tolerate anyone questioning a Hereford publicly—even one she hasn’t fully accepted yet.”
“Is that what I am now? A Hereford?” The question slipped out before she could stop it.
In the dim light of the carriage lanterns, his gaze met hers with surprising intensity. “Yes,” he said simply. “Whether either of us planned it or not.”
Something warm unfurled in Amelia’s chest at the quiet certainty in his voice. This evening had revealed aspects of Charles she hadn’t anticipated—his protectiveness, his attentiveness, the careful way he’d shielded her from the worst of Society’s scrutiny.
As the carriage rolled toward home, she found herself wondering how many other facets of the marquess remained to be discovered beneath his carefully cultivated facade. And more disturbingly, why the prospect of discovering them suddenly seemed so appealing.
