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“Then you’d better start talking. And figure out what you’re going to do.” Pierce shook his head. “Of all the people for you to show an attraction to, who would have thought it would be the woman your father wanted you to marry?”
Lucas didn’t respond. He already knew that he felt like he was only a few steps away from putting on the fool’s hat.
Chapter 11
Dorothy watched as Dashwood and Lady Marcia sat further down the table, talking. From her body language, Lady Marcia was clearly trying to flirt with Dashwood. According to Frederica, she had done her best to monopolise Dashwood’s time since coming back from Carsington.
It shouldn’t have upset her, but it really did. Dorothy felt the knot of jealousy in her stomach, and she couldn’t get it to leave her alone. She really didn’t want to feel like this and over a man who rejected her. And yet Dorothy was still struggling to push her feelings aside.
She must still be too tired if she felt jealous over a simple interaction. That had been going on throughout the evening ever since Dorothy came downstairs for dinner. Either she had slept too much, and her head was hurting from the deep sleep she had been dragged into before her head had hit the pillow, or she had not slept enough.
Either way, Dorothy didn’t want to see Lady Marcia taking up Dashwood’s time. He didn’t seem too bothered about it, but he wasn’t actively encouraging her, either. Dorothy waited for him to glance down the table at her, but she never saw it.
For goodness sake, you promised yourself that you wouldn’t have anything to do with him. And you’ve broken it several times since then. Why don’t you just throw that promise out the window?
What if Lady Marcia is right about his behaviour? I don’t want to be ruined like that.
You’ve kissed him twice. And you keep looking for him to see if he’s watching you. Seems like you’re already ruined.
“Dorothy?” Lady Derbyshire was peering at her. “Are you well, dear? You’re looking a bit … distant.”
“Forgive me, My Lady.” Dorothy picked up her knife and fork. “I’m a little distracted right now.”
“Is there anything you want to talk about?”
Dorothy knew she shouldn’t say anything about what had happened between her and Dashwood. That was not a good idea. Then she remembered something, and she brightened up.
“Actually, yes. When did you get your copy ofFrankenstein? I found it in the library yesterday.”
“Oh, that.” Lady Derbyshire looked surprised. “That’s my husband’s. I was aware that he had managed to buy it on the day it was published, but I don’t think he’s actually read it.”
“Does he actually read any of the first editions he buys?”
“I believe he does, but he keeps buying books. I’m sure he’s addicted to buying them, and he can’t keep up on reading.” Lady Derbyshire shook her head with a smile. “The only time he’s going to have to read his books is when he’s old and unable to be as spritely as he was, and then he won’t be able to read them as his eyes have lost their sight.”
Dorothy giggled.
“I’m sure it’s not that bad.”
“Sometimes it feels like he’s going that way. I’m sure the time he sits down to read his books is when his eyesight is bad, and he can’t go through all of them.”
Dorothy could very well see that happening. The marquess had spoken of his love of books many times. She could understand his point of view; she would more than likely end up like that herself.
“Do you think he would mind if I readFrankenstein? I wasn’t lucky enough to get the book, and I have been eager to see what it’s like.”
“I’m sure he won’t mind. I trust you to look after the book.” The marchioness frowned. “But are you sure you want to read it? I’ve heard that it’s not something a young lady should be reading.”
Dorothy leaned towards her, lowering her voice to a whisper.
“I’ve heard rumours that the writer ofFrankensteinis a woman. If that’s the case, I absolutely want to read a book by a woman. We are great storytellers, after all.”
“Oh, really?” Lady Derbyshire raised her eyebrows. “Maybe I should read it myself. I did get persuaded to readThe Monka while ago. I’m sure I can manage this after reading that.”
“You read that one?”
“It was … harrowing. Hopefully, this won’t be as bad despite the premise.” Lady Derbyshire gestured at Dorothy’s plate. “Are you going to eat that? I’m sure it’s cold by now.”
Dorothy didn’t feel very hungry right now, but she did manage to eat, concentrating on each bite. It wasn’t easy, but she swallowed it down and forced herself not to look further down the table at Dashwood. The sound of Lady Marcia’s laugh reached her ears, and Dorothy tried not to grimace at it. It sounded like she was having a good time.
