Page 27 of The Duke's Last Dance
“My loft room has been good to me, Father. I appreciate that it is there.” Nicolas kept his innermost thoughts to himself. It was good to get out of Ashwood Manor, even though he had only been home for about four days.
“’Tis good to hear that, Nicolas. ‘Tis very good to hear that.” His father did not have time to say anything more before the door opened.
Nicolas turned around. His mother entered the room without much fanfare.
“Good morning, Owen, Nicolas,” she said smiling. “I am glad to see that you are doing better. Now, Miss Alexia and her father are to join us for dinner.”
Nicolas could not believe it. He felt as though his father’s plans were coming together well enough that they were beginning to slowly close a noose around his throat. He would never have said that aloud, so he managed to put on a smile.
Polite society was not always so polite back.
Though, it seemed he could not hide his annoyance. His father gave him a stern glare, and he could feel the words in that stare.
“Nicolas, you will show an interest in Miss Alexia, or you will forfeit your entire inheritance. Must I remind you of this every time she comes up in conversation? Oh, have they arrived yet?” His father stood up as he spoke. “I would like to go greet them, Maria.”
“Owen, they have not yet arrived. Nicolas, would you mind giving your father and I some time alone?” His mother gave him a pointed look.
His father was about to get a few choice words spoken to him. As much as Nicolas wanted to see his mother scold his father more in depth, he knew that his father would not have agreed to that.
“Of course, Mother. Shall I go wait in the dining room for Miss Alexia and her father to arrive?” As much as he did not like that suggestion, he knew that it was the only thing he would be able to say that his father would appreciate.
“Yes, do that, Nicolas,” his father said.
The phrase had not surprised him in the least.
Nicolas excused himself from the room and walked towards the dining room. It was not a long walk, and soon, he found himself sitting at the dining room table with the servants swirling around him, setting up the rest of the room. The table had already been set when he walked in.
The dining room in Ashwood Manor was large, formal. It had always been used during his childhood, since his parents had always been giving feasts and hosting large parties of people. He had fond memories of watching his parents put the parties together and introduce themselves to their guests as he watched from the sitting room. The maids would always watch him during one of these parties.
After a while, he was sent to Camberton Manor to spend time with Lord Radcliff, and Lord Radcliff would come here when the Earl and Countess of Camberton Manor had a large party. It made it easier for everyone to keep their child out of trouble, apparently. After all, children were seen and not heard unless they were spoken to first. On the night of a party, children were shuffled away to let the adults have their fun and their gossip.
He wondered where those nights had gone. Being in the Navy now gave him an appreciation for how easy he had had it during his childhood. Sure, his father controlled his life as best as he could, but Nicolas remembered it lifting for the night when his father had to be at a party, even if it was not one that he was hosting.
Especially when his father was not hosting the party. His father always got uptight about how he looked when it came time to have a party, and even his mother would partake in that. Perhaps that was because she, too, had to spend all day getting ready. If she was playing hostess, she would have to check the food, make sure the house was clean, and get ready herself for the event. If she was to be attending an event, getting ready was an all-day affair that often ended with his mother looking as though she had just stepped out of a fairytale…
“Excuse me, but Miss Alexia and her father have arrived, sir. Should I go get your parents?” a butler interrupted his thoughts. “Sir?”
“No, I shall get them. Thank you,” Nicolas said. “You can show Miss Alexia and guest into the dining room, though.”
“Of course,” the butler said with a bow.
He left the room after quietly excusing himself. Nicolas followed, and he walked towards the office. It was down a different hallway than the main entry hall was, so his parents would not have heard that Miss Alexia had arrived just by listening for it.
When he arrived, the door was shut. He had expected this based on the conversation, and he knocked. Soon enough, his parents were walking in front of him to greet Miss Alexia and her father at the dining room.
They arrived, and everyone was soon seated for lunch. Due to the seating arrangements, Nicolas ended up sitting beside Miss Alexia.
“Look at this dress! My father bought it for me for today, especially,” Miss Alexia began. “Miss Balfour, at your service, Lord Lockhart. Now, look at this dress. Three pounds of silk were used to make it.” She beamed as if this was good news. “It is the most expensive thing I have ever worn.”
Nicolas attempted to say something, but she continued to talk about her dress, the fact that it wasn’t just any old silk, but instead French silk. French silk, she insisted, was the best silk, and there was nothing that would convince her otherwise.
He was able to eat without any expectation that he would answer her questions, as she never asked any questions. Once she was out of things to talk about regarding her dress (which seemed endless as he had no interest in whether the dress cost five or ten pounds or more than a hundred; it seemed in bad taste for a lady to discuss how much they spent on a dress), she went along to talk about her hat in the same manner.
Her hat had many crepe flowers on it, and she talked about each one in excruciating detail. One had been folded wrong and it had ruined her day.
Nicolas began to wonder if there was any way to consider her as a good match for him. He was struggling to relate to this conversation because he had never spent hundreds of pounds on an outfit as intricate as this; that would only be for his wedding, he hoped. If he had, he had never noticed as his parents paid for much of the clothing he wore during each Season, and they did not share prices with him.
He looked over at his mother, hoping she would notice that something was amiss.
