Page 84 of Duke of Myste
“He looked annoyed?” Diana asked, her interest piqued despite her attempts to maintain modest skepticism.
“Positively murderous,” Nicholas confirmed teasingly. “I thought for a moment he would challenge poor Lord Finlay to a duel for the interruption.”
“Now you are all being ridiculous,” Diana protested.
But Jane could see the warm flush in her sister’s cheeks that suggested she was not entirely displeased by the idea of having drawn such positive attention.
“Are we?” Richard asked mildly. “Diana, I’ve met many men in my social and political circles. I’ve seen how they behave when they’re fulfilling obligations versus when they’re genuinely interested. Surely, our entire group cannot be wrong.”
“Miss Brandon!” Lady Ashford exclaimed, her fan working overtime in her excitement. “You simplymusttell me everything about the Duke of Storme! Where did he come from? Did he request an introduction to you specifically? And, most importantly, my dear, what on earth did the two of you discuss during your dance?”
Diana’s eyes widened in panic at this direct assault of questions, but before she could stammer out a response, Jane smoothly intervened.
“Lady Ashford, how lovely to see you this evening. I believe the Duke mentioned recently returning from Scotland—something about settling his late uncle’s affairs and taking proper possession of his estates. As for his conversation with Diana, they merely discussed a mutual appreciation for the traditional music of his homeland.”
“Traditional music!” Lady Ashford gasped, as though Jane had announced they had been discussing ancient Greek philosophy. “How… unusual. I would have expected a man of his sophistication to prefer more… contemporary entertainments.”
“Perhaps,” Lydia said with deceptive mildness, “the Duke appreciates the depth and complexity found in traditional forms. Some people, after all, prefer substance to mere fashion.”
The subtle rebuke was delivered with such perfect politeness that Lady Ashford couldn’t possibly take offense, though her expression suggested she had caught the implied criticism of her preference for superficial entertainments.
“Yes, well,” she said, clearly struggling to maintain her composure, “I suppose there’s something to be said for… educational pursuits. Miss Brandon, you must be quite proud of your scholarly interests.”
“I am,” Diana affirmed with quiet dignity. Jane felt a surge of pride at her sister’s refusal to apologize for her intellectual curiosity. “I find that music, particularly traditional compositions, tells us so much about the cultures and people who created it. It’s rather like reading history, but through melody and rhythm instead of words.”
“How fascinating,” Lady Ashford returned in a tone that suggested she found it anything but. “Well, I do hope you’ll share more of your… insights with the Duke if he decides to call on you.”
As the woman scurried away to spread gossip to other interested ladies, Marian linked arms with Diana protectively.
“That woman is a menace,” she declared. “Pay her no attention whatsoever, Diana. She’s simply jealous that you managed to capture the attention of the most interesting man at the ball, while she’s been throwing her daughter at every cravat in London with no success whatsoever.”
“Marian!” Diana sputtered, though she was clearly fighting back a smile.
“It is true,” Elias said matter-of-factly. “Lady Ashford has been attempting to secure advantageous matches for her daughters for three Seasons now. The fact that you’ve succeeded where she has failed, and without apparent effort on your part, is probably driving her to distraction.”
“I haven’t succeeded at anything,” Diana said firmly. “The Duke asked to call, nothing more. It is entirely possible that he has no intention of actually following through.”
“Diana,” Jane said gently, “I understand your caution—I truly do. But sometimes we have to allow ourselves to hope, to believe that good things can happen to us. You deserve to be appreciated and loved for the wonderful person you are.”
“And,” Richard added with the authority of someone who understood the obligations of aristocratic courtship, “I can virtually guarantee that the Duke of Storme will call as promised. Men of his position do not make casual commitments, particularly not in front of witnesses. He will call, Diana, and when he does, I suggest you allow yourself to enjoy his company rather than spending the entire visit convinced he would rather be somewhere else.”
Diana nodded slowly, though Jane could see the nervous excitement in her eyes. “Very well. I shall… try my best to be optimistic.”
“Good.” Jane nodded. “Richard,” she said, her voice carrying a note of urgency that immediately captured her husband’s full attention. “I need your assistance with something in the library.”
“Can it not wait?” he asked softly.
“It is quite urgent,” she insisted, lightly batting her lashes at him.
Richard looked puzzled but nodded immediately. “Of course. If you’ll excuse us,” he addressed their small group with apologetic courtesy, “we shall return momentarily.”
As they made their way through the crowd toward the quieter corridors that led to the study and the library beyond, Jane could feel the knowing looks following their departure. Lydia, in particular, wore an expression of barely suppressed mirth that suggested she understood exactly what sort of ‘urgent assistance’ Jane required.
The library, when they reached it, was blissfully quiet after the din in the ballroom. Moonlight streamed in through tall windows, casting silver patterns over the numerous leather-bound volumes that lined the walls. The space felt intimate and peaceful, a private sanctuary within their public home.
“Now then,” Richard asked, turning to face Jane with an expression of polite inquiry, “what pressing matter requires my attention?”
Instead of answering, Jane stepped closer to him—close enough to catch the familiar scent of sandalwood and something that was purely him. Her hands came up to rest against his chest, feeling the steady beat of his heart beneath the fine fabric of his evening coat.
