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Chapter Eight
Alex hoped his confusion wasn’t evident upon his features as he gazed at Lady Graciela. Why would she apologize like that? Taking responsibility had always been his role. He had never encountered a woman who would do it voluntarily like that. It really wasn’t her fault that he was embarrassed about allowing the deceit to take place at his estate. He ought to have visited and reviewed his ledgers long before now. He couldn’t begin to fathom why the woman would accept the rebuke from Rathnelly that had rightly been directed toward him.
But staring at her wasn’t getting him any answers, and that wasn’t why he had accepted the invitation for dinner no matter how fascinating he might find her. He needed to remember the purpose of his visit.
How could he get Rathnelly to allow him to invest in his operations? Or how could he come up with some ideas of his own if the duke wouldn’t allow it after all?
The conversation continued to flow around him while he remained wrapped up in his own thoughts. No one seemed to notice that he wasn’t being the best guest. But he couldn’t help being jealous of the obvious closeness amongst the family members. Lady Graciela and the duchess were remarkably friendly with one another, despite their evident differences in temperament. Alex wondered if it was different for girls. He had never seen any of his friends being that friendly with their brothers. But then his gaze shifted toward the duke’s sons, and he remarked upon their evident friendliness, too. Perhaps it was the air at Rathnelly, he thought, with the first touch of whimsy he had experienced since his own boyhood. No, he corrected himself. He seemed to be always whimsical when he was near Lady Grace. All the more reason to avoid the woman, who couldn’t seem to stray far from his thoughts.
But then, perhaps he could use all the friendliness at Rathnelly to his advantage. He would have to enter the conversation more fully and see what he could manage. It was obvious to even his untrained eye that the duchess was the centre of all that was taking place. Even Lady Graciela had told him to apply to her for access to the household. His focus narrowed upon her especially when he took note of the two sisters seemingly having a silent conversation with expressive eyes and emphatic head shakes. At least, on the side of Lady Graciela. Alex had the strangest sensation that he was the subject of their silent conversation. He stifled his smile of triumph.
“Your Grace, it is evident you have already put your touch on the house since I was here for your wedding.” He had hoped to be complimentary, but the duchess appeared suddenly uncomfortable at his words.
“Well, I haven’t done much, Lord Sterling, although it’s kind of you to say so. Every woman needs to feel that she’s made a house her home. And, of course, Rathnelly is a little too busy to pay too much attention to decorations and such.”
“Of course,” Alex said as smoothly as he could muster. He hadn’t realized this might be a touchy subject. The duke must have sensed a shift in the air. Alex watched as his gaze moved around the table quickly before resting on his wife. He then turned his perceptive stare upon his guest.
“My wife has taken over management of my life, and it is the best thing that has happened to any of us. She has done a lovely job of straightening up the House.”
The duke’s words brought a hot blush to his wife’s face, and she frowned in response.
“You weren’t supposed to have noticed, Your Grace.”
Rathnelly’s eyes widened, and a quiet chuckle escaped him. “I have lived my entire life here, my dear, I’m sure you realize.”
Alex didn’t think it was possible, but the duchess’s blush deepened even further. He was reasonably sure it was embarrassment making her uncomfortable, not anger or anything else truly awful, but he thought he ought to turn the subject to lessen the moment, just the same. Before he could, Lady Graciela did it for him. He was beginning to see a pattern in her behaviour, and it intrigued him.
“Felicity, I must ask, have you any idea what your cook does to make the roast so very tender? Please, don’t tell Mother I’ve commented on it, but I think our cook could benefit from a suggestion or two.”
The duchess looked at her sister as though the younger woman had lost her mind, but then a smile broke across her face and she shrugged. “I haven’t thought to ask, but we could venture our way to the kitchens tomorrow and find out.”
“That would be delightful,” the lady replied with a wide smile, one out of proportion to the subject, from Alex’s point of view. He stopped himself just in time before he shook his head over the vagaries of females.
Then he caught the flicker of Lady Graciela’s gaze, and he realized that once again, the lady was making an attempt to make things comfortable for him and everyone else at the table. What a strange lady she was. Not at all what he was used to encountering amongst theton.
Not that it much mattered. He needed to speak with the duke, not fixate upon the man’s sister-in-law, he reminded himself for at least the fifth time that evening. He wasn’t interested in a Society maiden was another reminder he gave himself as he enjoyed the last of his well-cooked dinner, no matter how appealing she might be.
But how to bring it up? Perhaps, when the ladies left them to their port.
“Sterling, you won’t mind if we have our port together with the ladies in the salon, will you?”
Rathnelly worded it as a question but was already on his feet, following his wife from the room before Alex could even consider a response.
He noticed that Lady Grace was hovering in her seat, watching him from the corner of her eye as he stared after the rest of the retreating diners.
“Are you having difficulty adjusting to the tempest that is my sister’s household, my lord?” she asked in a soft voice.
“Not at all. The Barringtons are delightful.”
“Well of course they are. That was not in question,” she replied with the most asperity he had heard from her.
“I have never experienced a delightful tempest,” Alex returned drily as he headed for the door himself, prepared to chase after the duke if he had to.
“That is unfortunate for you, in that case, my lord,” she answered, not at all chastened by his remarks. She didn’t bother saying anything further, as she followed the rest of the family and then settled beside her sister with a basket of needlework.
“Do you play any instruments, Lord Sterling?” the duchess asked as the footman was serving him from a decanter.
“I play the pianoforte with moderate skill. I could never settle down long enough to practice sufficiently to excel at it, I’m afraid.”
