Page 15 of The Duke's Reluctant Muse
“I think I must take my leave.” Lady Annette sighed, smiled and rose to her feet. “You are to attend the ball this evening, I hope?”
Elizabeth nodded. “Yes, I am.”
“With the Duke?” Lady Annette’s gaze flicked to Lord Dennington and he immediately grinned, rising to his feet.
“I do intend to be there,” he said, as Elizabeth frowned. “I shall see you this evening, Lady Annette.”
Waiting until Lady Annette had taken her leave, Elizabeth turned sharply to her brother. “You told me that you were not certain as to whether or not you were going to attend this evening! You stated that you were feeling a little fatigued and...”
“And now I feel quite well enough to come along. Though I shall only dance one or two dances.” Her brother chuckled at her frown. “You do not need to look so frustrated, Elizabeth. This is what I am meant to be doing here in London, is it not? I am meant to be feeling an improvement, to turn away from all that I have been focused on and instead, find a little enjoyment!”
This made Elizabeth’s frown lighten just a little. “Indeed, I suppose that is true.”
“Then do not worry! If I begin to feel tired or if my head begins to ache, then I shall take my leave and ask the Duke to step in… if you wish him to, that is.” His smile faded. “You have not told me about last evening, so I do not know what it is that the Duke speaks of.”
Elizabeth glanced at the letter, a small smile curving the edges of her lips. “It is quite all right, Dennington. The Duke was not as close a chaperone as he ought to have been but I am sure, after my letter, he will be just as he should be.”
Her brother tilted his head. “You must inform me of what you say in it, recall. If he is present this evening, as I expect, then he may well speak of it.”
Nodding, Elizabeth rose to her feet. “I shall write my response, send it and then come to find you so I can tell you everything.” A twist of urgency pushed her steps to the door. “Now if you will excuse me, I have a long and detailed letter to write.”
Chapter Eight
‘My sister is an excellent young lady and I can assure you, will never present anything less than her true character to you. I believe you were shown a little of that last evening, given her somewhat sharp – albeit justified – response to your words to her?’
Jonathan winced, recalling the very moment Miss Jeffries had lifted her chin and spoken with both determination and rebuke.
‘Though I can also understand Lord Dalton’s concerns, if you fear that you are never to truly know a young lady until the day you wed, then I worry that you shall never wed for all the days of your life! You must permit yourself to trust, even a little.’
“And how am I to do that when I am continually rejected by those in society?” Jonathan muttered to himself, pacing up and down the drawing room as he waited for his carriage to arrive. He had already read this letter once already but in preparation for attending the ball this evening, he had chosen to read it again for there had been a good deal contained within.
‘Might I suggest that your chaperoning of my sister might be what you require to step a little more into society? You are doing me a great favour, of course, but might it not also be of aid to you? If you chaperone her well, then society will see that you are trusted by myself and by Elizabeth. If you dance with her, then other young ladies will see it and might wonder at it. Elizabeth herself could be asked about you and I can assure you, she will only speak well of you. Though she does not need to know all of your present difficulties, she may be able to assist you more than you might have thought. Of course, I do think that you ought to apologise to her first, for whilst I appreciatedyour letter a great deal, it was not I who took the brunt of your harsh words!’
Jonathan sighed to himself, folding up the letter and setting it to one side.
“The carriage, Your Grace.”
With a nod to the footman, Jonathan made his way from the room and directly down the hallway, his thoughts still tumultuous. He was now aware that he needed to apologise to the lady herself, though he had hoped that the letter itself might suffice for mayhap, Lord Dennington would share that with his sister.
Evidently, it would not do.
If you fear that you are never to truly know a young lady until the day you wed, then I worry that you shall never wed for all the days of your life! You must permit yourself to trust, even a little.
Sitting back in the carriage, Jonathan let out a heavy breath and closed his eyes. That was what troubled him the most. Given all that he had endured first with his sister and, after hiding away from society, coming back with clouds around him still, he was not certain he trusted anyone. The warning from Lord Dalton had truly affected him, making him see the young ladies in a new – but possibly clearer – light. Could he try to trust evenoneyoung lady?
“And could that young lady be Miss Jeffries?” Muttering aloud, Jonathan opened his eyes and looked out of the window at the dark London street. She had, he had to admit, spoken quite sharply to him and without any hesitation when it had come to doing so either. Most other young ladies, he presumed, would not have done so. They would have turned away and, mayhap thereafter, spoken about him to others so that rumors might spread.
I can only pray that she will not do the same.
There was no joy in his heart as he stepped out of the carriage and made his way into Almacks. He had no real desire to be there but neither could he hide himself away, he knew. Hehadto find a way to bring himself back into society, had to make sure that he could find himself a bride one way or another. The family line had to be continued and this was the only way he could go about it!
“Good evening, good evening.” Jonathan forced a smile to his face that he did not feel, looking from one guest to the next as he meandered slowly through the crowd, attempting to appear as genial as he could. There were still the same sidelong glances, the whispers which came from one person to the next and that sent nervousness slithering into Jonathan’s stomach. Could they not see that he was doing his best to smooth over his prior mistakes with the three young ladies he had pursued? Could they not understand that what he had done in the past as regarded his sister ought to be left there? Society seemed to cling to such things, like a wild animal that will not let go of its prey… and he was still tight in society’s jaws.
“Your Grace!”
Jonathan jumped back, having knocked into someone he had not seen approaching. “Forgive me, the crush is so great that… ” Looking down, he saw Miss Jeffries’ face twisted in pain, her eyes closed tightly. “Miss Jeffries, I am terribly sorry. Can I...”
“Your arm, Your Grace.” The whispered words shot towards him and Jonathan moved closer at once, feeling Miss Jeffries’ fingers tighten on his arm as she leaned heavily on his frame. A slow breath eased out of her and Jonathan’s whole being seemed to shrink inwards. Now not only had he to apologise for his foolish and unfair words the previous evening, but also he had to apologise for causing her physical injury!
