Page 29 of A Duke Changes Everything
Pretty but not at all subtle.
Lady Claxton gestured at the young woman. “My granddaughter has just come out, Your Grace.” The steel-haired woman enunciated carefully so there’d be no mistake. The girl was on the hunt for a husband, and he was her intended prey. “I understand you’ve been awhile in London, Your Grace.”
“Indeed.”And will soon be returning.“I’ve lived there most of my life.”
“We are all eager to return to London once the Season commences,” Lady Lillian enthused. “It’s so diverting.” When she giggled, her entire body quivered. “Usually,” she purred, spearing him with a hungry glance, “there is little to entertain a young lady in the countryside.”
“We’d like to aid you in remedying that.” Lady Claxton finally lowered her lens, ceasing her appraisal of every item in the room, and turned her disconcerting gaze his way. “As the lodestar of Barrowmere society, it is your duty to entertain.”
Nick’s head had already begun to ache. Aid him, indeed. “What did you have in mind, Lady Claxton?”
“A ball.” The noblewoman’s wrinkled face lifted in a beaming smile.
“Oh, say you will.” Lillian’s voice lost a bit of its seductive quality when she whined. “I’ve not danced in ages.” She cast her grandmother a pouty moue, plumping out her perfect Cupid’s bow lips. “Have I, Grandmama?”
Lady Claxton raised her spectacle glass toward his steward. “I’m sure even Miss Thorne would agree. A ball will lift all our spirits.”
“Dancing does tend to make people merrier.” Miss Thorne sounded so intrigued with the notion that a muscle in Nick’s jaw began to twitch. If she thought she could finagle him into playing host to a country house ball or any other frivolous entertainment, she was gravely mistaken.
“I can’t provide the remedy you require, Lady Claxton,” he said as decidedly as he turned down noblemen in the den.
“But you must. You’re the Duke of Tremayne. Your father may have grumbled and groused, but he did his duty by the village and always hosted at least one ball each year.”
A hammer began pounding inside Nick’s head. He longed to reach in, pull it out, and smash the whole drawing room to rubble.
“Sometimes the duchess encouraged him to host two in one year,” Miss Thorne put in unhelpfully. “What date would you suggest for the ball, my lady? And what would you require?”
“Soon. Very soon, indeed.” Lady Claxton’s eyes bulged. “As to what’s needed, only what every such event requires. Food. Drink. Musicians. A ballroom. Surely the servants at Enderley know. The duke and duchess were such gracious hosts.”
Nick couldn’t hold back a bitter chuckle at that. His mother was friendly, warm, gracious—all that a duchess should be—but his chief memories were of his father sulking in corners and stoking meaningless arguments with guests.
“We could provide food and drink for a ball...” Miss Thorne started blithely, as if he wasn’t even in the room.
Lady Claxton beamed. Lady Lillian clapped her gloved hands in quick little pats of excitement. Nick clenched his jaw so hard he heard a click and feared he’d cracked a tooth. When he caught Miss Thorne’s eyes, he shot her a glare, which seemed to dull her enthusiasm.
“But if you intend for the event to take place soon, I’m afraid the ballroom at Enderley is not available,” she said resignedly, shooting him ahappy now?glare.
Nick returned a tiny nod of satisfaction.
“I’m afraid,” she continued, “the room is in need of repairs.”
All the sweet relief fizzled. Repairs? There’d been no mention of repairs in her inventories or her communications with his solicitor.
Lady Claxton let out a long-suffering sigh. “We could offer the ballroom at Claxton Hall, I suppose. Of course, it’s smaller than Enderley’s.” The elderly noblewoman tapped her bottom lip with a gloved finger. “Will we have your support, Your Grace, and a promise to attend?”
Nick didn’t like making promises, especially those he didn’t intend to keep. “I’ll assist in whatever manner I’m able,” he hedged.
His halfhearted commitment seemed to please the noblewoman. “I thought you would be a different sort of Tremayne, Your Grace.” She arched a thin gray brow. “Perhaps it’s a boon that you are.” She stood, apparently ready to depart.
Nick took a deep breath and felt the tightness in his chest loosening a smidge. That had been easy. Quick. As well as any task he dreaded could have possibly concluded.
When Miss Thorne stood, he rose too.
“I shall save you a spot on my dance card,” Lady Lillian whispered as he steered her toward the entrance hall.
Miss Thorne shot him an inscrutable glance over her shoulder.
“Do you ride, Your Grace?” Lady Lillian pressed a gloved hand to his forearm as if they were strolling through Hyde Park.
