Page 16 of A Duke's Temptation Poetess
Colin knew that his aunt did notreallybelieve that he and his sister were terrible. It was true that she had taken more of an interest in tending to his sister and himself than most women in the ton did. Sure, there had been nurses and governesses, but his aunt had also always taken great care to ensure that she spent time with him and Deborah, too.
“I would say that it is to your benefit that I was so terrible, then,” Colin replied. “I taught you a valuable skill.”
“Well played,” she replied, sweeping aside the curtain which covered the carriage window.
Colin suspected that his aunt was trying to determine where they were on their journey, but the outside view revealed nothing particularly noteworthy.
“Your ball was a success,” Colin said suddenly.
Aunt Matilda cast him an amused look. She knew Colin too well, certainly enough to recognize when he was only being polite. “I suppose I ought to thank you for making an appearance. I know you detest such occasions, but I am pleased that you would at least enjoy a dance for me.”
“The dance was nice,” he conceded. “Truly. Lady Bentley’s daughter is a gifted dancer and a charming conversationalist.”
“Is she?” Aunt Matilda asked, arching an eyebrow.
“I mean nothing more than that,” Colin said. “I am not interested in courting her, if that is what you were thinking.”
“A pity,” Aunt Matilda said. “Still, I am glad you enjoyed the dance. She seemed to appreciate it, too.”
“As far as I know.”
Aunt Matilda smiled and shook her head ruefully. “I have known her mother Viola since I was a girl. She is a good woman but so…” Aunt Matilda trailed off and waved a vague hand, trying to find the right word. “I do not want to sound cruel, but I do believe that she could be kinder to Clarissa.”
“Kinder?” Colin inquired. “How do you mean?”
“Clarissa is an unusual young lady. A bluestocking who would rather find her fulfilment in the pages of books and social causes than seek a match,” Aunt Matilda said, “and I fear that her mother has become rather frustrated with the young lady’s marriage prospects. The late Lord Bentley left them nearly destitute, making Clarissa a comparatively undesirable match.”
“That is unfortunate,” Colin said.
“Indeed,” Matilda said, “but I also suspect that Clarissa herself is searching for something very specific in a husband. She wants a man who understands her, and that is not the easiest thing for a young lady to find.”
“I do not think it is that simple for men either,” Colin replied, “especially among the ton, where ladies are taught to feign interest in everyone and everything.”
Aunt Matilda clicked her tongue against the roof of her mouth. “Is that what you think of them?”
Colin stowed his hands in his pockets, his right hand tracing along the spine of the book of poetry. “Perhaps,” he said. “I think there is some truth in that, but it is complicated.”
“You find ladies distrustful,” Aunt Matilda said.
“Present company excluded,” Colin said.
His aunt waved a dismissive hand. “Do not deflect. I know that I am your aunt and do not factor in your calculations.”
Colin shrugged. “I think they all want to marry a Duke. That makes it difficult to trust them.”
Aunt Matilda inclined her head, acknowledging the words. “That is, indeed, part of the appeal for them. It is not really their fault, though. The world makes it so difficult for a woman to support herself. Marriage affords women with security and the means to survive. When women seek to marry above their station, it is because the higher a man’s rank, the safer she is.”
“Theoretically,” Colin replied, thinking of his mother.
Aunt Matilda’s face softened, and Colin suspected that her thoughts had gone the same direction that his had.
“Knowing that it is not necessarily the ladies’ fault does not make trusting them any easier,” Aunt Matilda said, her voice kind and infinitely patient. “You have my sympathy, my dear nephew.”
“Indeed.”
“I will always support your choices,” Aunt Matilda continued, “even if they are not what the ton would expect of you. I would appreciate you dancing with a lady on occasion, but if you wish to remain unwed, I understand. I can hardly criticise one for not marrying, after all.”
“You are too good to me.”
