Page 42 of The Duke’s Matchmaker

“Well, he’s going to have to stop it,” Dorothy said firmly. “He’s trying to find a wife, and how would she feel if she knew he was sending fine gowns to other ladies?” She gritted her teeth. When they had practiced flirting, she had allowed herself to believe he understood ladies better than he’d let on previously, but now she could see that wasn’t true. He had no idea what he was doing. That was obvious.

“Are you going to wear the gown?” Hattie asked her.

Dorothy sighed. “I am.” It was too beautiful not to wear. Besides, she reasoned, the damage was done. He had already sent it, and short of having it returned to the modiste—which struck her as an overreaction—there was nothing to be done about that. She would let him know that this sort of thing couldn’t continue, but in the meantime, she couldn’t see any particular harm in wearing the gown.

She put it carefully into her wardrobe and closed the door, not wanting to look at it any more right now. The sight of it only set questions stirring in her mind that she had no answer for. Questions like, what was he thinking when he did this? What does he think this means?

She had no way of knowing, but she did know one thing.

In a gown like that one, there would be no way for her to escape notice. No way for her to fade into the background at the party. People were going to be looking at her. Talking about her. She wouldn’t be a wallflower. Not anymore.

That should have bothered her—it did bother her.

But at the same time, there was something about it that felt almost thrilling.

She couldn’t help wondering what this ball was going to have in store.

CHAPTER 22

“He’s staring at you,” Agnes murmured.

Dorothy didn’t look up from the glass of wine in her hands. She had been studying it for the past twenty minutes as a means of avoiding looking around the room. She didn’t want to see Nathaniel. Truth be told, she wasn’t sure how she was going to react to the sight of him, and it worried her.

What would she feel when she first laid eyes on him? Simple friendship and gratitude for the gown he had sent? Anger, for the fact that he had overstepped like this? Would she be thrown into a spiral of confusion about what he thought he was doing?

It was better to focus on the wine. Even though she hadn’t been able to bring herself to drink much of it, wanting to keep a clear head, at least it gave her something else to keep her eyes on.

But apparently she was the only one keeping her eyes to herself. There could be no question about who Agnes meant. Who else would be staring at her?

Still, she feigned ignorance. “Who’s staring?”

“Nathaniel. But don’t look.”

There had been no danger of that. “Does he look…what does he look like?”

“What do you mean?” Agnes asked.

Dorothy didn’t know exactly what she meant. She wanted to decode Nathaniel’s actions without speaking to him. She’d rather hoped there would be an expression on his face that might serve as a clue. But, of course, without knowing what she was looking for, she could hardly ask her friend to find it.

“Is he angry?” she tried.

“No,” Agnes said, sounding mystified. “What would he be angry about?”

Dorothy hadn’t really thought he would be. A man who was angry at her wouldn’t send her a fine gown. And besides, he didn’t have a reason to be angry.

She thought.

Their last encounter, when she had allowed him to touch her face, still hung in her mind, refusing to let go.

What if there had been something wrong in all that? What if he resented her for something she had done? She thought back over it. They had gotten carried away with the intensity of the moment, yes, but that was all it had been. Unless it had been her fault somehow? She didn’t think so, but that didn’t mean he didn’t think so.

“He’s coming over,” Agnes hissed.

“He is?” What was she supposed to say? Thank you for the gown would make sense, but she wasn’t about to say that in front of Agnes. But then that would mean pretending he hadn’t given her an extravagant gift, and that would be ungrateful…

“Lady Dorothy,” Nathaniel said, coming to a stop in front of her.

Dorothy was forced to look up. He was smiling, but she didn’t know what to infer from that. Was he just happy to see her? Or maybe he was thinking that she looked good in the dress? It does look very fine on me. I’m sure he’s pleased with his purchase. That thought set her stomach churning all over again.