Page 21 of The Marquess's Imperfect Brid
Grace opened her mouth to respond. But she realized Millicent was right. There were many other gentlemen out there, a couple of whom had given her small smiles, rather than looks of disdain. Why had Grace jumped to the conclusion that her friend meant the marquess of Hayewood?
Later that evening, with the picnic still fresh in her mind, Juliet helped Grace dress in yet another blue gown. It was a couple shades lighter than the blue she had worn on the night of the ball, where she had been introduced to Lord Hayewood. But it was still a shade of the hue that made her feel less insecure about her scars. It helped that it came with a bonnet that, like many of her others, helped hide that side of her face. And it was embroidered with pale blue lace to detract the eye from Grace’s face.
Grace was relieved to see that she was seated beside Millicent, who was dressed in a silk pink dress. Her dark eyes shone with excitement as Grace settled into her chair.
“The marquess has chosen to attend,” she said, glancingaround the table.
Grace nodded, too distracted by the conversations buzzing around the clinking of cutlery and glasses around her. She only noticed a few people staring. But their expressions spoke louder than any of the voices closest to her ever could.
“That is wonderful,” she said. And part of her sincerely meant the words. But when she looked up to catch a glimpse of the gentle marquess, her heart fell as it had when he had taken Lady Cecilia out onto the boat that afternoon. Lord Hayewood was breathtakingly handsome in a wool suit that coincidentally matched her dress. But he was sitting beside Lady Cecilia, who was wearing a beautiful, if a bit lavish, lavender dress that sparkled from waist to bosom with either diamonds or zirconia and a silver diadem holding her blond hair with light purple gemstones.
She is far more beautiful than I could ever hope to be, Grace thought sadly. I have no business allowing myself to get attached to a marquess, when he deserves a beautiful woman like her.
Chapter Twelve
When the meal finished, Gareth watched as the ladies followed the marchioness of Farenley from the dining room and headed to the drawing room. Gareth could not help glancing at Lady Grace, with Lady Millicent sitting beside her, talking animatedly. He allowed himself a small smile of satisfaction as he saw Lady Cecilia glance over her shoulder at him with a pout.
It was clear that she did not like such an interruption to what he was sure she believed was her successful attempts to curry his favor. Gareth, however, felt relieved for the customary splitting of the men and women dinner guests. He could escape Lady Cecilia’s insufferable company at last.
His relief was short-lived, however. As he settled in with his glass of port by the unlit fireplace in Lord Farenley’s billiards room, he saw his father enter. And naturally, his father was not alone. Ian Darnall was accompanied by none other than Percival Bingham. And much to Gareth’s dismay, the gentlemen made their way directly to where he sat the instant their eyes settled on his. Perhaps, I was better off in the company of Lady Cecilia, after all, he thought bitterly as he forced a smile.
“Gareth, it was wonderful to see Lady Cecilia and you so engaged at dinner,” the duke said, grinning broadly at his son.
Gareth groaned inwardly. He was sure that that was not what his father saw, as he had hardly been paying attention to Lady Cecilia. But he already understood what was happening, and he had not expected his father to say anything less.
“Dinner was very lovely,” Gareth said, aiming his forced compliment to the evening’s host.
The earl of Birington bowed with a sly smile.
“Lord and Lady Farenley have outdone themselves,” he saiddisingenuously.
Gareth nodded, clutching his glass in his hand. He knew perfectly well what men like his father and Lord Birington thought of Lady Grace. He thought it detestable that they could attend parties hosted by her family and be such imposters in their presence.
“They have provided a lovely day and evening of activities and dining,” he said, knowing his sincerity would be lost on the two men before him.
His father and the earl exchanged glances, and Gareth could immediately see that they did not intend to waste time.
“As for Cecilia, it is quite conspicuous that she is interested in matching with you,” the earl said.
The duke nodded in agreement, giving Gareth a pointed look.
“Indeed,” he said. “And with her poise and grace, she would certainly make a fine wife and future duchess for my eldest son.”
Despite having both pairs of eyes trained on him, Gareth could not help feeling invisible. It was clear that his honest opinions would not be welcomed. He supposed that was for the best, considering he did not have a polite way of telling the earl that he could never suffer a bride as shallow and counterfeit as his daughter. He could not say such things. But nor could he bring himself to lie right then.
Fortunately, for the moment at least, he did not need to speak. The earl beamed, sticking out his chest with pride at the undeserved praise for his daughter.
“I am humbled at your words, Lord Darendale,” he said, preening. “Not to mention that uniting our families, especially through a marriage between your son and my daughter, would be truly advantageous for us all.”
Gareth’s nostril twitched with the effort to not sneer. In what ways would it help us all? He wondered bitterly. How couldit possibly help me to be married to such a shallow, insincere lady?
The duke nodded, retrieving cigars from his pocket and offering them to the two men in front of him, finally, albeit barely, acknowledging his son’s presence. Gareth refused, certain that the gesture was meant to celebrate a union that Gareth had no intention of upholding. The duke’s eyes flashed with warning, but he did not speak to his son. Instead, he smiled at the man who would be Gareth’s father-in-law, if that decision was the duke’s to make.
“It would certainly improve your family’s status within the ton,” the Duke said. “For Cecilia to marry a future duke would raise your class by default.”
The earl’s eyes flickered, and for a moment Gareth thought he saw hunger within them. But it passed too quickly for him to be sure, so he bit his tongue as the earl spoke.
“And the financial investment opportunities are many,” he said with a sly grin. “I can assure you that you can look forward to nothing less than a drastic change in your income once you combine your business dealings with mine.”
