Page 15 of An Arranged Betrothal with a Contrite Duke
Michael gave her a nod, feeling as though his heart would leap out of his throat.
“Of course, Lady Lydia,” he said.
As he sat down next to his soon to be wife, Michael's heart was pounding in his chest. He glanced again at his mother, who was giving him an approving smile. He stole another quick glance at Lady Lydia and was stricken once again by her beauty and grace. He couldn't believe that he was going to be married to such a woman. And yet, he still wasn’t sure if that was what he wanted.
The conversation at the table was polite and cordial, with Michael struggling to find anything interesting to say. He watched his mother and the Earl engage in lively conversation, while he sat quietly, picking at his food. He kept looking up at his mother, trying to discern what, if anything he should say. But largely, it seemed as though his mother had the conversation topics under control. He tried to focus on the meal before him, putting his fork to his mouth, not even tasting the food. He wished that the evening would just end. He was never going to feel more comfortable around his bride-to-be.
He noticed a few times that Lady Lydia looked at him while he was watching his mother. He desperately wanted to think of conversation topics, but he couldn’t think of a single thing. He tried listening to the conversation between his mother, the earl, and the countess. Perhaps, that would give him something to talk about.
“It is sure to be a lovely Season,” the countess was saying. “I hope that someone decides to host a masquerade ball.”
The earl chuckled softly, clearly amused by his wife’s excitement for the Season.
“Perhaps, I should try to fetch an ancient Egyptian mask for the occasion,” he said.
The women laughed lightheartedly. Michael was filled with envy. He would never understand how people could be so comfortable in social situations. He was never meant to be a duke, but he grew up in a noble family. He knew he should be more socially adept than he was. What was wrong with him that he wasn’t?
Michael fidgeted with his fork, his eyes darting nervously around the table. He had never felt so out of place before, and he couldn't shake the feeling that he was making a fool of himself in front of Lady Lydia, even though he wasn’t saying anything. Especially since he wasn’t saying anything. He stole a glance at her and felt a flutter in his stomach at the sight of her elegant profile. He was convinced that he would just flee the house, were it not for the fact that the vase was on the line. He kept looking at his mother, hoping for another cue from her. But for ages, she seemed too enthralled with her conversation with the earl and countess to offer him any assistance.
The only solace he found was in his cup of wine, which he was too happy to drink. He tried to imagine that it made him appear sophisticated, though he knew he must have looked like a fool drinking it as quickly as he reasonably could. With every passing moment, he wished that the night would either end, or that the floor would open up and swallow him whole. He was in such turmoil that when his mother spoke, it startled him.
“Darling,” she drawled, looking at him pointedly. “Why don’t you tell them about your studies. I am sure they would be quite interested in them.”
Michael was caught off guard by the question, but he took a sip of his wine and cleared his throat, trying to seize the opportunity he had to contribute to the conversation.
“Well, I suppose I'm most interested in Ancient Greece,” he said.
Lady Lydia brightened, turning to him and smiling.
“What, specifically, interests you about those cultures?” she asked. “I find them rather fascinating, as well, and I love discussing them.”
Michael swallowed, masking it with another sip of wine. He had always been confident in his knowledge, and he was happy to share it with fellow scholars and collectors. But for some reason, he felt very self-conscious when he was speaking to Lady Lydia. Was her beauty truly affecting him in such a way.
“The mythology, the art, the philosophy, it's all so captivating,” he said. “Especially that of ancient Greece. That is where my true passion lies.”
Lady Lydia nodded, clearly excited by the conversation. Michael silently praised himself. He should have known that intellectual conversation would be interesting to her. After all, he knew about her interest in education. He briefly chastised himself for having not thought of that sooner. But he didn’t stay inside his head for long. He had all eyes on him. He needed to keep his bride to be engaged.
“I wish to travel someday,” Lady Lydia said. “I would love to visit the landmarks in Greece and Sparta.”
Michael nodded, smiling. He had never heard a lady speak of wanting to travel. He found it odd that a lady would ever wish to do so. It was highly irregular, and he wasn’t quite sure what to say. And yet he found her energy and passion intriguing. He didn’t wish to judge or ruin that.
“I have been to Greece,” he said. “It is a fascinating place to learn about history, indeed.”
His mother chimed in, beaming proudly at him.
“He spent a few years travelling,” she said, as though everyone didn’t already know. “He has been to so many places that are important to history. I truly couldn’t be prouder of him.”
Michael felt a sense of relief as the conversation flowed more easily. He found himself interested in what Lady Lydia had to say about her interest in travelling and history, and she regaled him with fantasies of potential adventures in foreign lands. As the night wore on, Michael felt more and more at ease around his bride-to-be, and he began to feel like he could be himself around her.
But just as he was beginning to relax, Lady Lydia turned to him with a curious look in her eye.
“Lord Strawbridge, can I ask you something?” she asked. “Why do you find the past more interesting than the present?”
Michael felt his stomach sink as he struggled to find an answer. He had never really thought about why he was so fascinated by history - it was just something that he had always been drawn to. But right then, he realized that he did know the answer. It was easier to escape into the past, which was a simpler, less demanding time, than it was to deal with the present, or to think about the future. But he also realized that was not an appropriate answer, especially considering his current situation. He took a deep breath, praying that he could formulate his thoughts well enough to appease his clever betrothed.
“I don't know, really,” he lied. “I just find it more interesting, I guess. I don’t really care much for the modern world, and I find history to be much more intriguing and engaging.”
Only once he finished speaking did he realize that he had essentially told her the complete truth. He felt embarrassed, but he was also amazed. He had felt comfortable enough with her to speak most of his mind, even when he meant to be a bit more censored. He held his breath, waiting to see how she would respond.
