There was nothing to do but steady on. He knew his purpose and was determined to accomplish it.
*
MONTCLAVE WAS NOTat all fooled by Dashlend’s protestations that he might be interested in other ladies aside from Lady Grace. In fact, his reaction rather told the tale. Dashlend had been made uncomfortable that Lady Margaret had guessed his plans.
The lord doth protest too much.
It was all well and good to be certain of which way the wind blew. But what was he going to do about it? How would he keep them apart to prevent it from happening? Even if he could devise something to stop it this night, what about the morrow and the morrow and the morrow?
What was a permanent solution?
Might he compromise Lady Grace in some way?
No, he did not see how he could do it without landing in the bad books of her duke. Or worse, landing on a dueling green.
He’d already done what he could to reduce Lady Grace’s estimation of Dashlend by sending those flowers addressed to Lady Lavender. It seemed to have worked, too. Lady Grace’s manner had changed toward Dashlend and the duke seemed even more changed.
Would it hold though? If Dashlend proposed, would not the whole ruse come out? Lady Grace would remain forever mystified over who was the author of the scheme, though Dashlend would probably guess at it. The end result was all that mattered though—Dashlend would deny he sent them, and Lady Grace would probably believe him.
What would his mother advise? What would the dowager do?
Montclave did not know, except to know one thing—she would take drastic measures to stop an engagement. The dowager never allowed herself to be defeated. The only setback of any consequence she’d ever experienced was when Dashlend was born. Her ideas of her son becoming the next earl had been sunk. And yet, she refused, even at this late date, to consider herself entirely defeated in that plan.
It was just that now, all her hopes were pinned on what he himself would do next.
The orchestra was tuning. He searched the ballroom for Lady Grace and she was not hard to find. She was the prettiest lady attending and had drawn to her side a bevy of admirers like bees to a hive.
He made his way over.
As he led Lady Grace away from the callow youths who’d encircled her, he could not help but to notice that the duke did not appear very approving of him. He did not make too much of it, as the duke did not seem particularly approving of Dashlend either.
The ball would begin with a cotillion, which would afford some little time for talking. He must make the most of it.
As they completed the circle and moved to the allemande, he said, “Lady Margaret is in high spirits this evening, though I imagine her hopes will be dashed—it does not seem as if Lady Lavender attends.”
He watched her expression closely. There was no doubt the statement had affected her. Mightily, though she worked to hide it.
“Goodness, I did not know Lady Margaret was so fond of Lady Lavender that her hopes would be dashed by the lady’s absence.”
“It is not for herself that she hopes for,” Montclave said. Then he stuttered just the smallest bit and attempted to appear embarrassed to have said something he ought not have said. “I am sorry, I speak out of turn. I was under the impression that Dashlend’s own hopes were widely known. Lady Margaret has taken a great interest in his happiness.”
“Yes, of course, she would do,” Lady Grace said, her complexion a deal more pale than it had been.
“I suppose they will make quite the dashing couple,” Montclave pressed on. “Anybody who has seen them dance together must own it. They are both exceedingly graceful—two swans on a lake, as it were.”
Montclave suppressed a smile. It was a nice touch to prey on Lady Grace’s own insecurities. She doubted her own grace on the ballroom floor. Really, he thought his mother would be proud of that ingenious stroke.
Something in Lady Grace’s manner changed, as if she gathered all her fortitude together. “Yes, of course they will appear very well suited,” she said resolutely.
“Ah well, I think the rest of us mere mortals must just struggle on as best we can,” he said.
Lady Grace nodded and Montclave was convinced thatshewas convinced of Dashlend’s inclination toward Lady Lavender.
The question was, how long would it hold?
*
GRACE FELT ASif she’d been wounded, and as much as she tried to cover and treat the wound so it might begin to heal, the bandage was ripped away again and again.
