Page 9 of A Duke Makes a Deal
“Ah, there are my loves,” her father’s voice sounded from behind Clara and her mother, causing them to turn. He frowned upon seeing their faces. “What’s wrong, my dears?”
“Lord Dilworth has gone missing,” Mary said, her brow knitted together in worry.
“Missing?”
“I’m sure there were some gentlemanly pursuits he needed to attend to before he could give us his full attention,” Clara said with a bleak smile, not really believing her own words. “I’m sure he will appear momentarily.”
“Yes, of course,” her father agreed with a nod, though from the way his face scrunched up, it was evident that he believed otherwise. “Would either of you care for a refreshment?”
“No, thank you,” Clara said.
“Yes, please,” Mary said, turning to her daughter. “Stay here, dear, in case Dilworth comes back. It is the best spot in the ballroom to catch his eye should he come searching for you.”
“Yes, Mama.”
Her parents headed towards the refreshments table and Clara’s shoulders dropped. She was trying hard not to feel sorry for herself, but it wasn’t easy. She had expected this night to be magical. Tonight, she would be getting engaged. She was supposed to be dancing and smiling and being congratulated by people, for goodness’ sake. And yet so far, she had been utterly ignored.
Feeling rather glum, she took the very unladylike position of leaning against one of the marble pillars that lined the ballroom as she scanned the room once again. After confirming that there was neither hide nor hair of Dilworth in sight, she sighed. Her head gently tilted against the cool pillar and her eyes drifted to the ceiling above. A very detailed mural of celestial beings had been painted above the ballroom, and Clara found herself staring at the elaborate artwork.
It was a beautiful scene from Greek mythology, but one Clara didn’t immediately recognize. A bearded god who held a lute and was dressed in dark robes had his hand outstretched to a beautiful woman set before a starry sky. It was unusual, considering most murals painted skies set during the day, but it was enchanting nonetheless. She was somewhat mesmerized by the visual when she heard the dowager countess’s distinct voice from behind the pillar.
“Where are your brothers, Alfred?” she asked, her tone annoyed. Clara turned slightly so that her ear was turned to hear better. Surely the viscount was with the other brothers—the answer to the dowager countess’s question might lead her to find her erstwhile fiancé at last. “Derek has been missing for nearlyan hour, and I haven’t seen Fredrick since the first of our guests arrived.”
“It’s the game,” the young lord said as if that was all he needed to speak to explain.
“That foolish game,” the countess said with an exaggerated huff. “When will Derek learn that life is not all fun and games?”
“It was at your hand that we first learned to gamble, Mother,” her son replied with faux chastising.
“Oh, hush,” the countess replied without making the slightest attempt to deny it. “I never taught you such bad manners as to hold a tournament in the middle of the ball.”
Clara couldn’t help but smile.
“No, you didn’t. And Father certainly wouldn’t have approved, but then he never reined in Derek’s behaviors, did he?”
“No,” the countess said, her voice suddenly soft and wistful. “Your father always rather enjoyed you and your brothers’ antics. He always said there was plenty of time to… To…”
A stilted silence followed while a mixture of guilt and sadness crept into Clara’s heart. She began to regret her eavesdropping. She’d had no intention of intruding on this family’s grief.
“Yes, well,” her son said, his tone uncomfortable. “I wouldn’t fret about it. Derek is aware that he can’t continue with his card games during events, particularly now that he has to take on the duties of the earldom and host these parties himself. He just wanted one more—and it has been interesting, to say the least.”
“There’s always an interesting match, Alfred. But we must remember there is a time and a place for such things. Can you please tell both of your brothers that they must come host to our guests?”
“They will very shortly, I’m sure. By the time I exited, there were only two gentlemen left playing.”
“Who?”
“Dilworth.”
Clara’s ears pricked up at the mention of her would-be fiancé. While she felt some relief to know where he had been, she felt a healthy dose of indignation as well. Had he been playing cards this entire time?
“That does not surprise me,” the countess said. “Heaven help the poor woman who marries him the way he loses.” Clara felt her heart drop and barely caught the woman’s next words. “Who else?”
“Combe.”
“Combe? I wouldn’t have thought he’d have any patience for a man like the viscount. Why on earth are they playing together?”
“The tables were assigned randomly, I assure you,” he said, sounding miffed. “Though next time, I will be sure to draw again, given how much grief I’ve been given over the grouping.”
