Page 4 of The Duke and the Spinster

He spotted Torsford and moved towards him. They had been at Eton together, and the man was as close as he had to a friend amongst the local nobility, although of late Torsford’s house parties had been drawing the wrong set. It was disturbing to see him entangled with the rakes, gamblers, and wastrels of the ton.

Tonight, Torsford seemed in a better mood, and they spoke of the new Irish Hunter he had purchased, and his plans for his estate. Garrett carefully avoided meeting the eye of any of the young women, no matter how much they tried to attract his attention. He expected that he would, by evening’s end, be forced to dance, but he would avoid that also as long as possible.

He scanned the room, checking who was present, and assessing the likelihood of having to deal with people he found annoying. As he did, a most unwelcome sight greeted him. Lady Prudence Baggington, headed in his direction. She was unmistakeable - her gown, as always, well cut, in a most fashionable style that displayed her ample assets well, but made from a fabric of a pattern and colour as strident and grating to the eye as her voice was to the ear. It was enough to give a man a headache. Lady Prudence almost towed her mother, Viscountess Mortel, across the floor.

He sighed, and Torsford glanced past him, then grinned.

“Ah, the baggage has seen you. You’re doomed, old man, you know that she thinks she’s fated to be with you, or some such rubbish.”

“I know it all too well. I must escape her somehow, or I’ll be forced to dance with her.”

Garrett shuddered, and Torsford laughed again, completely lacking in sympathy. Lady Prudence’s pursuit of Garrett was rather a joke amongst the local nobility. But it was too late for escape – Lady Prudence and Lady Mortel were upon them.

“Good evening, Your Grace, so delightful to see you here! And your sisters too – we haven’t seen enough of you, this last few years.”

Garrett looked at her, and swallowed, trying not to breathe too deeply, for her choice of scents was as aggressive and tasteless as her choice of fabrics.

“Well, mourning does rather limit one’s socialising.”

His tone was dry and he was looking desperately for a way to end the conversation rapidly.

“It does, it does. Still, you’re past that now, aren’t you? Time to move on with your life.”

Lady Mortel looked significantly at her daughter as she spoke, and Garrett forced himself not to visibly flinch.

“Indeed. And the first part of that will be giving my sisters the Season they missed.” Garrett saw a chance, and looked to the drapes near the terrace doors, pretending to see someone. “And it seems my sister wants me now. Do excuse me.”

He turned and fled, feeling Torsford’s amused eyes upon him as he did. But at least the man had the decency to continue the conversation with Lady Prudence and her mother, forcing them to stay and talk, out of politeness.

Garrett slipped out onto the terrace with a sense of relief, the slightly cool air of evening clearing the last of Lady Prudence’s terrible perfume from his nostrils. He moved to the end of the terrace, into the dark shadowed area past the windows, and stood, leaning back against the rail, the scent of the riot of summer roses in the garden below surrounding him.

As he stood, a door opened at the far end of the terrace, and a woman stepped through. The light from the open door briefly showed him a tall elegant figure, well-shaped and dressed simply in a beautiful gown of an amber shade, with hair like burnished gold coiled upon her head, a single tendril falling from it over her shoulder and drawing the eye inexorably to her décolletage. Then the door closed, and she was just a shadow amongst shadows.

He did not move. He simply watched. Why was she out here? And why alone? Her movements were smooth, careful, and beautiful, almost like dance, as if she took precise care with every step. Everything about her was in contrast to the young women who hoped to marry him, and as opposite as could be imagined to Lady Prudence. He felt a sudden desire to meet her, to find out more. He shook the thought aside – what kind of foolish idea was that!

Yet he moved forward, slowly, watching her and, when she slipped back into the ballroom, he also slipped in through the nearest door. Once inside, he halted, and watched her.

She went straight towards a secluded corner, and sat beside an older man and woman, and a younger girl. Her family, he supposed. Seeing her in full light, he was even more struck by her beauty, and by her self-effacing behaviour. She made no attempt to be seen, no attempt to do anything but sit quietly, unlike the other girl – her sister? – who was up again, tugging her mother after her, and off to speak to a group of women on the other side of the room. He had never before seen a beautiful woman choose to hide away in a circumstance such as this.

Intrigued, he turned away, wondering who she was. He searched the room carefully, identified the location of Lady Prudence, and was relieved to see her totally absorbed in a conversation with a collection of the more gossipy, older women. She would, hopefully, remain engaged by the gossip for some considerable time. He went in search of his mother and sisters.

Perhaps they knew who the beautiful woman in the corner was. In the end, when he found them, he did not ask, for the thought of giving his mother the slightest hint that he found any woman interesting was terrifying. He was relieved to see that Isabelle was looking happy, and as if she was enjoying herself, for the first time since her short visit with a friend in London. He stayed with them for a short while, then sought out Mooresfield.

“Mooresfield, as the host, I make the assumption that you actually know everyone here?”

“That’s perhaps rash, Kilmerstan, but why do you ask?”

“I’ve seen a family I can’t place, and I’m curious.”

“Point them out then.”

Garrett did, indicating the couch and chairs in the corner, where the beautiful woman still sat, talking to the man he assumed was her father.

“Oh, yes, you wouldn’t have met them. They haven’t been to town the last few Seasons. Reputed to be a bit short on funds. But they’re here now to, I suspect, try to marry off the younger daughter. The Earl of Delbarton, Lady Delbarton, and the two daughters. Lady Juliana and Lady Eleanor, if I remember correctly. Shall I introduce you?”

“If you would.”

They moved across the room, and came to a halt before the father and daughter, who rose at their approach.

“My Lady, my Lord, may I present His Grace, the Duke of Kilmerstan?”

The woman dropped into a curtsey worthy of court and her father bowed.

“Delighted to meet you, Your Grace. I am the Earl of Delbarton, and this is my daughter, Lady Juliana.”

~~~~~

Juliana could barely breathe. The Duke! Being introduced to her. She smiled, and hoped that her curtsey was good enough, and that he would not expect her to do more than greet him.

Across the room, Eleanor had turned, and seen what was happening. Suddenly, for the first time, she envied her sister.