Chapter Nineteen
Matthew had beensurprised that the earl had sent a note over, asking him to come for dinner. He’d have thought the house would already have its hands full on the eve of Beatrice’s ball.
Still, he found himself grateful for it. Three days of nothing to do had sounded welcome at the beginning of it, but he’d found himself exceedingly restless. In the country, there would be no end of things to do around the estate. Not so here, though.
He’d become reluctant to even take his horse out to the park, as the first time he’d done so he’d encountered Lady Mary and her mother in their carriage. He’d got the distinct impression that they’d been looking out for him.
That was rather confirmed when he’d spotted her carriage twice passing his house, only to turn around at the end of the street and go back out again.
As far as he could tell, Lady Mary’s mother had no more circumspection than her daughter.
It was to be an early dinner and Tattleton had opened the door to him with a look that was not his usual steady composure. He was rather wild-eyed, his suit rumpled, and if Matthew were not mistaken, there was a deal of cat hair on it.
“I’ll show myself in, Tattleton,” he said. “I am certain you have a hundred matters to arrange.”
Tattleton nodded and hurried down the corridor to whatever it was that made him look like he’d seen a ghost.
Matthew entered the drawing room to find them all gathered.
“Van Doren,” the earl said, “good of you to come. Now, I probably should have explained in my note that we are to have a buffet and serve ourselves. Tattleton has more than enough to do, we shan’t wish him to be standing round supervising our dinner. I hope that does not disappoint?”
“Certainly not,” Matthew said. He turned to Beatrice. “Have you recovered from your headache?”
“Oh yes, thank you,” she said rather quietly. Matthew was not so certain it was entirely true. She was more subdued than would be usual.
“Is Darden joining us?” Matthew asked, already guessing that he was not. The fellow was sure to be at his club as he always seemed to be.
“He is at his club,” the earl said. “Some sort of meeting or other he’s heading up. I cannot hold it against him—he’s made absolutely all of the arrangements for Beatrice’s ball. I have not had to lift a finger other than to hand over bank notes.”
“He’s been very good about it,” Cordelia said.
“He is the best of brothers,” Viola confirmed.
“Darden is a prince among brothers. But, if nobody else is going to say it, I will,” Juliet said. “Van Doren, we have all heard how you accosted Lord Harveston believing him to be Conbatten.”
Matthew stared at Juliet. How on earth would she have heard of it?
“What’s this?” the earl asked.
“I accosted nobody,” Matthew said. Though, he ratherhadaccosted the fellow who he now knew as Lord Harveston.
“Lady Jersey was here today, Papa, to tell Beatrice all about it,” Rosalind said. “It has gone all round the town.”
“Yes, because Van Doren was trying to warn off Conbatten from Beatrice,” Cordelia said.
“He said the duke takes too long with his toilette to be of any use,” Viola said.
The earl roared with laughter. “Yes, everybody has heard of that—strictly ninety-eight degrees and champagne. Oh, that is too good.”
“I am sure that it must have been some sort of misunderstanding,” Beatrice said, looking at him strangely.
What did it mean? Did it mean she was all in for Conbatten?
“There is no misunderstanding that fellow’s habits,” Matthew said in a brusque tone.
“There is some misunderstanding about yours though,” Rosalind said. “Why have you become so intemperate in London?”
“I am not intemperate!” Matthew said. Rather, he’d almost shouted it, which did sound rather intemperate.
