Page 35 of Claiming His Scottish Duchess
“While most women fawned over my brother, I knew that I would always be the more successful one,” he went on, as Catriona willed her eyes not to glass over. “He was so concernedwith his appearance, the latest dandy fashions. Pah! But I read my books and worked hard to earn the respect of my father. When I was little, I never even played with a single toy! All I did was use my abacus and calculate the circumference of the room I was in.”
It was hard not to wince at what Beaumont was saying.
Was this truly how grown men in England spoke?
Remember what is at stake, she told herself.
“I have always considered physical exertion to be the province of the lower orders. A gentleman, after all, ought to cultivate his mind, not his muscles. I am sorry, I have been speaking so much. Tell me, what do you think of mathematics?”
“Aye, I am nae much for mathematics, but I do enjoy music. Would ye make an exception to physical exertion just this once? If I may be so forward,” she said, lowering her lashes in the least forward manner she could manage.
For a moment, Beaumont simply stared at her, as if the very idea of being coaxed into activity was both unthinkable and mildly thrilling. He adjusted his cuffs in that precise, fussily deliberate way of his, the motion buying him time—or composure.
“Well,” he said at last, his voice ever so slightly drier than usual, “in the spirit of gallantry, and under such… charming provocation,” his gaze flicked to hers, warm despite himself, “Isuppose an exception might be made. Just this once, of course. We mustn’t encourage reckless habits.”
Her smile grew. So, hecouldbe persuaded.
She downed the last of her champagne and glided across the floor with him.
Aye, what is one dance?
A fragile glimmer of hope began to bloom in Catriona’s chest as her bosom heaved up and down with anticipation. Funnily enough, she noticed Lord Beaumont’s eyes and how drawn they were to that very spot.
That’ll do, she thought to herself.
Perhaps, just perhaps, she could salvage their situation.
Richard entered Lord Harrington’s ballroom, having arrived fashionably late.
He was reluctantly drawn into the evening’s festivities and again subjected to social niceties for a greater purpose. His repeated failed connections with Arlington presented a challenge that needed to be rectified. He was tired, and he needed answers.
I will get satisfaction tonight.
Richard grabbed a glass of brandy and watched as partygoers chatted and couples danced to a pleasant waltz.
A knot of something dark and unpleasant tightened in his stomach as Catriona caught his eye. He drowned the remains of his glass in a single gulp, wiping the excess with the corner of his hand and patting his lips with his handkerchief.
“I must say that you look positively thunderous this evening, Your Grace,” Lord Hargrave teased as he reached his side, his devilish eyes twinkling with amusement. “Dare I suggest that Miss MacTavish’s… success on the dance floor is the source of your disquiet? Rumors say she is eager to find a match. If I recall your interaction at the theater?—”
Richard scowled. “Don’t be ridiculous, Hargrave. I have more pressing matters to concern myself with, which you are more than aware of.”
But even as he spoke the words, his gaze drifted back to Catriona. He had to blink awkwardly, to feign some reason for staring in her direction after his protestation. She was radiant that evening, the light purple of her gown making her stand out like a heather blossom.
As he cursed the foolishness of his fleeting thoughts, blaming it on the hasty consumption of liquor, Arlington joined them. His plump face was flushed with wine as he clapped him on the back.
If anyone else had done that, I swear they would not be walking away.
“Your Grace! There you are! It was a shame that you and Lady Lydia had to leave my party so abruptly,” he offered sympathetically, as he was clearly warming up despite the duke’s cold ways. “But come, come now. You simply must meet Lord Tillworth. He is the politician I wrote of. I think he may be uniquely qualified to help you with your search.”
He steered Richard towards a distinguished gentleman with a long mustache and monocle held up to his right eye. Lord Tillworth held a shrewd gaze over the party and an air of quiet power. He was exactly as Richard had pictured him.
“Indeed, Lord Tillworth,” Richard was saying, leaning in conspiratorially, his voice a low murmur against the music, “your insights into the King’s… proclivities are most invaluable. A man of your wisdom understands the currents of power and what can motivate a man far better than most. I think I will be able to use this to my advantage.”
“And you have a keen eye for sizing up, my lord. Keen indeed. And dare I say, a persuasive tongue. There may be an opportunity for you in parliament one day.”
Richard allowed a modest smile to play on his lips.
“Merely recognizing merit, my lord,” Richard offered as they clinked glasses. “I’ll keep my ear to the ground and will be sureto return the favor when something equally helpful comes my way.”
