Page 17 of A Duchess Mistaken
“Please,” Christopher spoke up. “You all should call me Christopher.”
Mr. Parsons grinned at that. “It is clear that this is my passion.”
“Is it not interesting that you find a new passion every month?” Miss Agnes drawled.
“Yes, that’s right,” Miss Caroline exclaimed suddenly. “You did say you wanted to become a sculptor last month!”
“My,” Johnathan heard himself drawl, mirth evident in his tone. “You must be the most remarkable man in all of London to have so many talents, Mr. Parsons.”
A sudden giggle caught his attention. Miss Agnes was trying to hide her laughter behind her hand. An odd warmth spread through his chest.
“You are all poking fun at me,” Mr. Parsons pouted, his face growing red.
“I do think this is improper conversation,” Lady Reeds spoke up. She narrowed her eyes at Miss Caroline and the lovely lady shrank under her withering stare. “Let us talk of other things. Like what we may able to do during our stay here, Your Grace.”
“Or,” Christopher spoke up. “I could tell you all about the filly my horse recently gave birth to.”
No one, not even the queen herself, would have been able to stop Christopher from going down that line of conversation.Johnathan was content to let it happen, letting his eyes drift to Miss Agnes again.
Somehow, dinner went by in a blur and all he could remember about it was the smile on her face and the sound of her laughter.
CHAPTER 8
Lord Christopher was…something. Agnes could not fathom how he had so many things to say about one topic. He didn’t stop talking about his horses all throughout the three courses and by the end of it, Agnes was desperate for a reprieve.
“Ladies, shall we all retire to the drawing room?” Mary asked, already getting to her feet.
Agnes sat up straighter. “A lovely idea, Mother. And perhaps the men may seek some reprieve in the parlor?”
“A sound idea, Agnes,” Solomon agreed and Agnes could barely hold back her sigh of relief. She didn’t know how much more of Lord Christopher’s ramblings she could take.
She managed a hasty smile, remembering manners at the last minute as she attempted to make her escape from the duke’s brother. Agnes didn’t wait for his response. She led the way tothe drawing room with the other ladies following behind. As soon as she entered, she went right to the pianoforte.
Caroline sat next to Mary, with Prudence on the other side of the viscountess.
Deciding that she could leave Caroline in the care of her parents, who always treated Caroline as if she were one of their own, she settled down in front of the pianoforte and brushed her fingers over the keys.
“The duke is quite dashing, isn’t he?” Prudence’s sharp voice sliced through the room. “Goodness, I think we might have struck gold in having Caroline marry him.”
“Yes, he is quite charming,” Mary agreed. “Though I do think it is a bit early to decide if you have struck gold. They have only just met, after all.”
Agnes settled on a slow, somber song, letting herself fall into the music, trying not to listen to the conversation.
“Oh, heavens, there is no need to be discreet, Lady Sutton,” Prudence huffed with a flash of her hand. “It is only us ladies here.”
“I’m afraid I do not know what you mean, my lady.”
“What does it matter if they know each other well? What matters is that he is a wealthy duke and Caroline is of marriageable age. I’m sure you consider the very same things regarding Agnes.”
Agnes glanced up, not missing the look of discomfort on Caroline’s face. She continued playing, fingers flying across the keys rapidly.
“I only want what is best for my daughter,” Mary said simply.
“And what is best for her is that she marry. It is a pity it is not a duke, however.”
Mary ignored Prudence’s snide remark, turning her attention to Caroline. “What do you think of His Grace, Caroline?”
Agnes nearly hit the wrong key. She recovered easily enough, holding her breath.
