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There wasn’t much Derrick could do except eat and listen. Dinners at Cliveton-Smythe’s house were always more relaxed, the crowd a little more eclectic. It was like once he retired, his strictness had faded away and he started having fun with the creative types in London. He had been a big enthusiast of art and music, after all.
Which was why he had been delighted at Lady Regina being a musician, and also hearing that Lady Eleanora could paint. Derrick couldn’t help but smile as she talked about her art and what she liked painting. There was genuine joy in her voice. The two other artists in the room were discussing brush techniques with her by the time dessert arrived.
Not quite what he expected of an earl’s daughter, if he were honest. But it was refreshing to hear a different side to her. Once her guard was down, Lady Eleanora was a fascinating, vibrant woman. She was playing up her spinster role quite well, although Derrick wondered how many had noticed that she wasn’t one. At this point, she didn’t seem to care.
He had to admit that Lady Eleanora was drawing him in. She seemed far more interesting than anyone else he had encountered. That left him rather bewildered. She was unmarried, but she was doing whatever she could to direct gentlemanly focus onto her sisters. The role of spinster seemed to come naturally to her. She seemed to be always looking after everyone else at the expense of what she wanted.
His mother had said that he needed to find a lady who actually wanted to get married, but Derrick couldn’t stop looking at Lady Eleanora. This was… confusing to him.
“She plays beautifully, doesn’t she?”
Derrick turned. Cliveton-Smith had sidled up to him. The old man was silent on his feet, something that hadn’t changed since his days as a teacher. Derrick managed a smile.
“Oh. Yes. She is.”
“Although it wasn’t her you were focused on, were you?” Cliveton-Smythe gave him a knowing look. “You’ve been too interested in her sister.”
Derrick thought about denying it, but he knew that Cliveton-Smythe wouldn’t accept it. He shrugged. “What if I have?”
“She’s pretty, isn’t she? Even under that strange get-up she’s got on her face.”
“You noticed?”
“I was a teacher for over fifty years. I know when someone’s dressing up and trying to pass as something they’re not.” Cliveton-Smythe looked sly. “Like the time everyone in class tried to say they had smallpox and were covered in spots to get out of a test. You used that lead paint women put on their lips.”
Derrick grimaced. “You still remember that?”
“Inventive, but it didn’t work. So, any idea why Lady Eleanora is doing this?”
Should he confess her secret? She had asked him not to say anything, but that was to her cousin, not his former headmaster.
“I imagine she has her own reasons. Her family will be upset about it if they find out.”
“Perhaps they should know that these girls are up to something.”
“They’re not harming anyone, are they? And they haven’t gotten into trouble.”Not yet, anyway.“Might as well leave it as it is, sir.”
Cliveton-Smythe didn’t look convinced. He sighed and shook his head. “I spent so long trying to understand boys that I have no idea how to understand girls.”
“Not even your wife and daughters?”
“Not even them. Luckily, they loved me enough to be sympathetic. My wife said I was a bumbling fool when it came to women, but it was too adorable for her to ignore.”
Derrick chuckled. “I can see her saying that.”
“It’s been almost thirty years since she passed away, and I miss her every day. It’s like she’s there every now and then, just smiling and shaking her head when I do something she considers daft. According to my children, it just means she’s looking down on me.” Cliveton-Smythe looked up towards the heavens. “I like to think she’s doing that.”
Derrick didn’t know what to say to that. He missed his father, and he did often hope that he was looking down and watching what his son was up to. But Derrick would rather have him alive and well, helping him with the predicament of finding a wife and getting his mother to back off. And he would know how to deal with the turmoil in his stomach over Lady Eleanora.
Lady Eleanora. That sounded better than Lady Drummond. More personal, somehow.
Just two interactions with her, and Derrick was emotionally drawn to her. He didn’t know what to think of it, other than it was a little disconcerting. Why did someone dressing up to be someone she wasn’t have his attention more than another woman in theton?
It didn’t make sense.
“I think you need to stop staring at her, North, lad,” Cliveton-Smythe said, giving him a nudge. “You’ll seem a fool. Especially with where you’re looking.”
“What?”
