Page 73 of Regency in Color

Chapter Five

Within one week following the masquerade, Stephen’s confidence had been shot to hell. Every morning he visited Ramsey’s Books, and every morning he was greeting by the male shop assistant who informed him that Miss Ramsey was indisposed. He had returned a few times in the afternoon, only to be greeted by the same young man who informed him that Miss Ramsey would continue to be indisposed indefinitely.

He had tried everything he could think of to smooth the way back into her good graces. He had penned notes only to have them returned unopened. He’d sent flowers and the finest sweets London had to offer—chocolates, marzipan, lemon drops. She kept the bouquets and the sweets, but remained frustratingly silent and unseen. He sent other gifts—kid gloves, shawls, a music box, a painted fan. Those also remained in her possession, but she never sent word that she wished to see or speak to him, and when he walked through the door of the bookshop, she was nowhere to be found. He knew she lived in the rooms above the shop—she had told him as much—but he was reluctant to intrude upon her privacy. However, short of marching up the back stairs and pounding at her door, Stephen was at a loss. He was running out of ideas.

He was also running out of hope.

His family sensed a change in him, and he often caught his mother watching him with confusion all over her face. He barely spoke, picked at his food during mealtimes, and only offered half-hearted responses when spoken to.

Was this what it felt like to have a broken heart? Now he better understood his mother’s behavior following his father’s death. He didn’t want to see anyone but her, talk to anyone but her. Food tasted bland and wine might as well have been water.

The rub was that Thalia was very much alive, and seemingly within reach. Yet she might as well have lived on another planet for how far away she felt.

“All right, I have had enough of this,” his mother said on the eighth day following the masquerade. They were having dinner—he, his mother, and his uncle—and Stephen hadn’t touched his fish course and was busy pushing his soup course listlessly about his bowl. “Something is wrong with you, Stephen. You haven’t been yourself this past week.”

“Leave the man alone, Sunita,” Philip chided, giving her a narrow-eyed look. “He is a duke with much responsibility. Perhaps there is simply a lot on his mind.”

“Nonsense,” his mother said with a sniff. “I know my son. This is more than that.”

Stephen stared at them both with bleary eyes. He hadn’t slept a wink last night and felt weary down to his bones. “It is nothing. I’ll be fine.”

His mother set her spoon in her bowl and speared him with one of her ‘looks.’ He knew what that look meant—had been on the other end of it many times.

“Stephen Alexander Warwick Conrad Dryden!”

Stephen groaned. She had used every one of his names—even the most ridiculous one, Conrad, which he loathed. There was no putting her off now. “Mother—”

“Don’t give me that tone. I know my son. Something is wrong with you. Are you ill? Shall I send for Dr. Hunter?”

“I don’t need a doctor, I’m in ridiculously good health.”

“Then something is troubling you.”

Issuing a sigh, Stephen pinched the bridge of his nose. Philip was watching him with concern knitting his brow. The man wasn’t as pushy as his mother, but he was definitely concerned.

“Fine,” he snapped. “You want to know what’s wrong with me? I met the perfect woman—the one I want to be my duchess.”

His mother’s face lit up, a wide smile crossing her face. She practically bounced in her chair while clapping her hands in delight. “Well, that is wonderful news. Who is she? Do I know her? Is she one of the baroness’s daughters?”

Stephen gave a dry snort and shook his head. “God, no. You don’t know her, but you would love her. She is beautiful, witty, charming … strong. I … I’ve fallen in love with her.”

Philip was smiling now, and his mother looked as if she were about to swoon.

“Don’t keep us in suspense,” she demanded. “Tell us who she is? Have you proposed marriage yet? Of course you haven’t, I would know if you had. All of London would know. Oh, Stephen, this is excellent news!”

Stephen sat up straighter in his chair and prepared himself for her reaction to his revelation. “Her name is Miss Thalia Ramsey.”

His mother furrowed her brown and stared at the ceiling as if searching for something. “Ramsey … Ramsey? I do not believe I know that family.”

“No,” Stephen confirmed. “They are not of the ton.”

His mother’s eyes snapped back to him, and confusion gave way to outrage. “You must be joking. Stephen, please tell me this is some kind of joke.”

For the first time in over a week, Stephen grinned. “It isn’t. She is the proprietor of my favorite bookshop in Soho Square.”

His mother made a choked sound, clutching at the rope of pearls about her neck. “My God, I think I’m going to have a heart attack.”

Stephen rolled his eyes. “There is no need for dramatics. She is gracious and educated. Everything else she must know to be a duchess can be taught … just as it was taught to you.”