Page 83 of The Scandalous Love of a Duke
Oliver and Harry led him into a packed salon where men stood talking in groups.
The liquor was flowing and one of the women played a pianoforte in the far corner. Four men stood about her. Another woman was sitting in an alcove with a companion, and at the far end of the room two more were playing Three-Card Loo with other men. A crowd was gathering about them.
Oliver pressed a glass into John’s hand and John caught the eye of the woman at the pianoforte.
She smiled.
Her hair was a similar colour to Katherine’s and her smile was guileless.
John crossed the room. When she came to the end of her tune she stood and picked up a glass of champagne, then sipped from it. When her gaze caught his, she dropped a curtsy.
John smiled, well aware she was posturing to capture his interest. He knew these women were favouring him. He would be a coup because he did not normally enter their circles. He was not put off by it. But perhaps that was merely because she reminded him of Katherine.
‘The Duke of Pembroke, if I am not mistaken. This is the first time I have seen you here, Your Grace.’ Her voice was sweet. It did not have the urging lilt of a harlot.
‘That would be because it is the first time I have wished for such relief.’
‘I am happy to oblige.’ She smiled at his careless innuendo, anticipation suddenly shining in her eyes.
The sight of her desire stirred revulsion.
‘Your Grace.’ She touched his arm.
His distaste sharpened.
She was not Katherine. She was nothing like Katherine. And it was Katherine he wanted.
He put his almost full glass down on the pianoforte, turned away and left without bidding his cousins goodnight. How much longer would this pain endure? He could not bear it.
When he reached the street he breathed in the cold night air and gathered his thoughts as he walked home. What would it matter if he married Katherine? His blood was not really blue, it was as red as hers no matter that his family were descendants of medieval royalty, and she could learn everything he had learned to become a duke and become a duchess.
Was he really contemplating marrying her then?
Yes. I am.
If she accepted, it would be hard on her. Society would not easily accept her. But these people were fickle, and people would forget.
His family would support her, though. She could weather the storm. He would carry her through it. He would wait until after Mary’s ball and then go to her. The decision made, the weight in his chest became lighter.
29
John strolled about the crowded ballroom.
Mary’s debut ball was crushed full of people. She and his mother were overjoyed.
His grandmother was here, too, of course. She had been glowing with pride ever since Mary had come downstairs. She looked magnificent in gleaming cream silk with her dark hair pinned high and secured with diamond-tipped pins. They glistened in the light thrown from the chandeliers, and she was illuminated by joy.
John had been the first to take her onto the floor and as they had danced he had noted numerous appreciative male eyes following her.
He watched her now. She was dancing with their father, and Edward’s gaze shone brightly with admiration.
John noticed his mother on the far side of the room, watching too. Tears glinted in her eyes.
His parents had been emotional all evening, watching Mary make her mark on society. He knew now, his mother had never had a debut like this. She had eloped with his father before her time had come. Yet beyond that he still knew very little about her life.
She had spent the year before his birth as an army wife, on the edge of battlefields. He knew nothing about what had happened afterwards. Well, not until she had returned when he was ten.
Mary laughed as the dance drew to a close.
