Page 22 of A Tenuous Betrothal
“It will be made up of mostly nobility and some of their sons. Those in attendance will be the most highly ranked group of all our invitations, and it also happens to be the place Bartholomew and I would attend were we to simply go out.”
“I think we should go there first.” Miss Davies looked surprisingly decisive all at once.
“If we can win over this group, there will be no door closed to you,” Sophie said.
“And Lord Carmine, the Duke of Salisbury’s son, will be there.” Bartholomew’s eyes danced with amusement.
“The duke’s son?” Marc supposed he should like the sound of him.
“You didn’t meet him,” Sophie said. “He was traveling on the Continent last Season, but he’s just newly returned. His father wants him to settle down and find a wife, and every woman in London knows it.”
“But very few have met him.” Bartholomew chuckled. “Much to their collective consternation.”
“So Miss Davies could get an early meeting with the man. This is most advantageous.” Marc tried to sound as enthusiastic as he should. And he should be feeling quite enthusiastic. Everything was rolling forward exactly as he’d hoped.
Miss Davies raised her glass. “Excellent. Let us meet Lord Carmine and some of the ladies, and we shall be in a wonderful way to meet as many candidates as possible thereafter.” She placed a hand on the duchess’s arm. “You do not mind securing extra invitations from so elevated a group?”
“I’m pleased as anything. As I said before, you and I will be fast friends; I already know. And they will be pleased that Prince Marc has returned among us. They shall be most anxious to renew his acquaintance.”
Bartholomew smiled at Marc. “Perhaps we should invite Lord Carmine to White’s with us. Or out riding.”
“Something would be good, yes, to take the measure of the man,” Marc said.
“Jackson’s.” Bartholomew nodded. “Naturally, a round at Jackson’s.”
“Boxing. Yes.” Marc smiled, a certain satisfaction rising at the thought.
Sophie returned to the invitations. “So, for other engagements, Lord Halstead’s mother’s invitation might be something to explore. There are four big balls and several picnics coming, if the weather holds.” She turned to Miss Davies. “We shall have to see which of my gowns will suit you best for each occasion until the modiste can finish yours.”
“You are so generous.” Miss Davies’s eyes misted the smallest bit, and that extra shine, that gratitude, caught Marc’s attention. He couldn’t look away.
Sophie carried on as if his world had not just altered the smallest bit because of it. “Oh, I would like to hope I’m just normal.” She fiddled with her fork. “And I find I’m missing my dearest friend, who married Marc’s brother and left me for Oldenburg. It will be lovely to have you here.”
Marc leaned forward. “If you were only looking for friends, Her Grace has befriended the kind of women you would want to know in London. Their reading salons and other philanthropic activities are some of the most worthwhile.”
“I had no idea you were even aware.” Sophie’s cheeks turned a charming pink. “I do miss my best friend, Elsie, who would attend these sorts of meetings with me. If there are any scheduled, I will make certain you are both invited. And perhaps we shall avoid the company of some of the other women of the London Season.” Her lips pressed together, and Marc was grateful, remembering some experiences he’d had witnessing the women of thetonin a new and less kind light.
There was no need for Miss Davies to be exposed to that side of London Society. He remembered well stepping in to defend one of the best women to come out of London—Hayes’s new wife, Oldenburg’s future queen. If the Londontoncould not appreciate the former Lady Elsie, then who knew what they would do to Miss Davies?
Though both women were beautiful, Miss Davies might outdo Princess Elsie in stark appealing features as well as stand as her equal in pure gumption. The two women would be fast friends, were they to meet, just as Elsie’s best friend Sophie wished to be. Marc’s cravat loosened just a hair. Sophie was proving to be a wonderful resource, and just as she’d offered, she and Bartholomew could easily step in and handle the whole process of marrying Miss Davies to a worthy man. Perhaps he had made the right choice in bringing her to London.
Although, Sophie’s initial question merited consideration. How could marrying one of the Londontonbe preferable to marrying a Wilhelm prince? The quiet question she’d asked Miss Davies earlier was becoming more persistent in Marc’s mind.
It might be preferable to her. This was, after all, part of her nation.
Miss Davies laughed at something Sophie said.
The hairs on Marc’s arms stood up in a pleasant reaction, as if a breeze lifted them. Her laugh brought back the songs they’d sung as they rode away from Wales. What a lovely, musical sound. He smiled. Perhaps she’d be asked to sing at one of these dinner parties. He’d love to hear her again.
Then she stopped and the two ladies stood.
He jerked to his feet in response.
They hurried out of the room in conversation without another glance in his direction. As soon as they left, he fell back into his chair and jerked his cravat loose.
“That bad?” Bartholomew had a superhuman ability to listen and care. Marc would have made fun of any other man in his situation, but Bartholomew looked prepared to listen. He waved that the doors be shut, and the servants stepped out of the room.
Marc ran a hand through his hair. “I think I’m losing my mind.”
