Page 72 of Dukes for Dessert

He would say she was flirting, but a young lady’s companion wouldn’t do that. Which meant she was simply earnest in her desire to improve her chess. Didn’t it?

Oh, he didn’t like this sort of nonsense one bit. It was past time to beat a hasty retreat and do whatever possible to avoid Mrs. Langton for the duration of the house party. He didn’t feel particularly optimistic since she’d be fixed to Lady Marina’s side. Although, she wasn’t at present…

“I do hope we’ll see you here before dinner. May I suggest you escort Lady Marina into the dining room?”

What a brazen woman. But he supposed that was her job—to push her charge at him. He couldn’t decide if a companion was worse than a managing mother. Since Lady Marina had both, he could count himself unfortunate.

“I would be honored,” he said, his muscles screaming to spring for the doorway, which Lord and Lady Cosford had thankfully removed themselves from. Others were leaving, which meant he could too.

Without further comment, he strode away from her and left the drawing room, taking deep breaths as if the air were somehow clearer and his lungs less compressed now that he was away from everyone. Several footmen stood ready to show guests to their rooms because everyone had come directly to the drawing room upon arrival.

Dare eagerly found someone to lead him to his chamber, a sprawling suite in the northwest corner of the first floor overlooking the parkland as well as some of the front drive. It was a pleasing view and blissfully devoid of anyone save himself and the footman, who was even now departing.

His solitude was short-lived, for his valet, Chadwick, came from the adjoining dressing chamber. “Would you care to rest before dinner, or will you be taking a walk on the estate?”

Dare shot his valet, who’d been with him a decade, a grateful look. “Most definitely a walk. It was too long in a coach today and then cooped up inside with an excess of people.”

“I have your clothing laid out in the dressing chamber already.” Chadwick inclined his balding blond head.

“You are most efficient,” Dare said.

“I aim to be, Your Grace.” He turned on his heel and went back into the dressing chamber.

Eager to get outside, Dare followed him. He could hardly wait to clear his mind of all the nonsense from today and brace himself for that which was to come.

3

“They make a lovely couple,” Cecilia noted as she and Juno watched Marina dance with the duke. “Their hair color, like their personalities, is a perfect match.”

Juno still wasn’t convinced their personalities were suited. Yes, they were both somewhat quiet, but Marina didn’t possess the duke’s…rigidity. Or contrariness. She would never declare that she hated something out loud, let alone in front of two dozen or so other people. And she would certainly never insult her hostess.

“Did it bother you when His Grace said he hated house parties?” Juno asked.

Cecilia waved her hand, laughing. “Goodness, no. His reputation as a disagreeable gentleman is well known. Honestly, I find his candor refreshing amongst our class.”

That was one way to look at him. Juno had to agree he and Marina made a nice couple, at least visually. Perhaps it was their serious, concentrated expressions. They could actually be bookends, she decided.

“I do appreciate your clever seating arrangement at dinner.” Juno was pleased that she and the duke had flanked Marina. That allowed Juno to support and advise her charge—which she’d done in the barest of whispers—while Marina and the duke could get to know each other. However, as Cecilia had noted, they were both quiet people. Juno feared they wouldn’t converse enough to determine if they would suit. But perhaps that wouldn’t be necessary. It was possible the duke had already decided whether he would propose.

Juno hoped that wasn’t the case. She preferred they took some time, a few days at least, to get to know one another, to be sure of the match. Lady Wetherby didn’t care about that—she just wanted a proposal. Thankfully, she’d been seated away from them at dinner, which had put Marina more at ease. She’d even smiled at the duke. Once.

“I am more than happy to help.” Cecilia turned toward her, lowering her voice. “In fact, I’ve arranged for her and Rigid”—her lip twitched, and Juno nearly laughed—“to share a picnic blanket tomorrow—along with you and Lady Wetherby, of course. Mr. and Mrs. Teasmore will join you. The blankets are large enough for six, with a footman assigned to each.”

“That sounds lovely. I will endeavor to ensure Rigid and Marina walk to the picnic location together.”

Cecilia gave her a fervent nod. “And I shall do my best to assist.”

A gasp, along with a chorus of voices, sounded from where the furniture had been cleared for dancing on the other side of the room. The music, provided by Cecilia’s oldest daughter, who was fifteen, on the pianoforte, stopped.

Juno and Cecilia whipped their attention toward the commotion. A puddle of pale yellow silk surrounded Marina where she sat on the floor. Lady Wetherby was already rushing to her, while the duke helped Marina to her feet.

“Did you see what happened?” Cecilia asked.

“I didn’t.” Juno had been too focused on their conversation.

“Oh, look,” Cecilia breathed, staring at the duke as he gently helped Marina find her footing. Then he offered his arm and escorted her to a chair. He bent his head and spoke to her before moving toward the refreshment table.

“Lovely,” Juno murmured. Perhaps this match would work after all.

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