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Chapter 2
“Come now, Crispin, you must show more enthusiasm than this,” Harry urged, trying to drum up some excitement for the ball.
But Lord Crispin Dunaway, the Duke of Hanbrooke, had little interest in being present that evening. He had never enjoyed social activities, preferring to keep to himself. He was not good at being amongst others. He knew not how to play the game of social elegance and the politics which surrounded such events.
“I know, Harry,” he replied to his cousin, sighing with regret that he had agreed to attend. But he’d had little choice otherwise; it would not have done well for him to remain absent.
“If you know, then why are you not more excited to be here? You say that you understand the importance of attending balls, but you are always so dour about them,” Harry said.
“That is simply because they never seem to be what I anticipate. I am always hopeful that they will be as they are in books, but the reality is quite different,” Crispin remarked, scanning the overcrowded hall. He could hardly discern one person from the next. There were too many guests for him to see whom he ought to engage.
“How so? What is so wrong with balls?”
Crispin looked at his cousin with a dry expression, bored and expecting more boredom to come. He found the affairs to be stressful and unnecessary. They were far too overwhelming. People were constantly attempting to show themselves as great and important when, in truth, they were arrogant and self-indulgent.
But Crispin hardly knew the majority of the people at the balls he attended. It was so rare to have a conversation that was not awkward or stilted and he struggled to accept that he would have to attempt speaking with anyone when all he really wanted was to smile, acknowledge his host, and then depart in a hurry so he was not forced to chatter on about silly things.
“Crispin? Did you hear me? Why do you find balls so contemptible?” Harry asked again.
“Because no one is themselves, Harry. They are a version that may as well be disregarded for the unfruitful narcissists they are,” Crispin replied, rather harshly. He enjoyed the music, but that was the only thing. And he preferred the slower paced dances, the ones where he could still hear himself think.
“Well, that is quite a strong opinion. You ought to consider that there are people here who are very much like you. People who care about the time they have here. There are those who enjoy getting to see friends and family they are typically unable to spend time with,” Harry reminded him.
“Then they ought to host dinner parties for one another. Just because I am not eager to be like them does not mean I care to be unpleasant. I simply wish that dances and such events were as exciting and joyful as they are always said to be. But for someone such as myself, someone who prefers to keep his own company, this is a very difficult position,” Crispin said.
He tried to be delicate, but he was aware that he was complaining. Harry understood Crispin well enough to know that his introversion was simply a part of him, but Harry was also a good deal more excited to be out and entertaining others.
This opportunity to dance and meet with others was a wonderful time. Crispin could not possibly manage to view it that way.
“There is a way to find it more enjoyable, you know,” Harry said. “You must try harder. I know that it is not what you wish to hear, but if you participate more, you will see what I mean.”
“And how am I to participate?” Crispin asked.
“You must dance, of course! That is the easiest way. Any woman in this room would be delighted to dance with you. Look at you, with your black hair and strikingly blue eyes—even my mother has spoken of her wonder that you have not yet found a wife. She said that she knows a great many women who would dearly love a man who looks like you,” Harry said.
Crispin laughed, thinking that was nonsense. His aunt had probably been speaking about it simply because she wanted him and Harry to both find wives as quickly as possible. That was the duty of any female relative. All they wanted was for the men to be married off quickly.
“Your mother, I am certain, was urging you to marry when she mentioned this?” Crispin asked, knowingly.
“She speaks of nothing else,” Harry confirmed.
“Very well, then. I accept the compliment that my hair and eyes are attractive enough to warrant her comment. Perhaps I do not understand it, but she is very kind to have said it,” Crispin said.
“If you are going to accept it then you must also accept that you should find a woman to dance with this evening. She does not have to be anything special—just someone who can keep pace with you,” Harry suggested.
“And who might that be? I do not know a single woman here this evening, as far as I am aware. So why would I force myself to dance with anyone? I cannot imagine enjoying it if all I am to hear is the same gossip that is always shared at these evenings,” Crispin said, hating the cruel remarks that so often were made.
“Not everyone has such a pointed tongue. In fact, I can think of a family who are quite different from that,” Harry said.
“Oh? How so?” Crispin asked, not having very high hopes.
“They are quite dignified, and they have raised their daughters well—they have many daughters, actually. The Lambtons. I am certain I may find you a partner amongst them,” Harry said.
Crispin looked at him curiously. He hadn’t expected to be pushed into a dance with anyone that evening, but Harry appeared determined enough to make it happen. No matter how uncomfortable Crispin was with the idea, he could see in Harry’s eyes that this had already been decided and there was nothing more to be said about it.
“Is she going to insist upon gossip?” he asked with hesitation.
“Absolutely not. That is precisely why I think you ought to dance with one of them. They are good women, and their father is very respectful and has raised them to be the same. They do not bother themselves with folly and mockery,” Harry replied.
It sounded promising, but Crispin was still hesitant. He did not know if he trusted that any woman present that evening could show honour and class as opposed to speaking poorly of others.
Nevertheless, he followed as Harry led him through the hall. It was clear that Harry had his sights set upon a pair of young women near the refreshments. He could see one woman who appeared lovely enough, although somewhat older than most of the other young ladies and, perhaps, a bit plain in comparison. The other, he saw only from behind, but her white-blonde hair was pinned up nicely.
“Come, Crispin. You will see. The Lambton women are decent, and Miss Lambton and her friend will prove to you that they are worth the conversation,” Harry said.
Still not believing his cousin, Crispin stayed with him. After all, he had to socialise no matter what. And if not with the Lambtons, then who?
