Page 11 of A Brilliant Match
“If you are indeed unwell, it is a fortunate thing your drawing room is not packed with noisy crowds trying to draw your attention. I feared it would be.” His soft chuckle died away quickly, when he saw that his observation had not pleased her.
Of course it had not. What lady liked to be reminded that she had not every suitor upon her doorstep? Good heavens, where was that charm he worked so hard to cultivate?
Although, truthfully, he could not have been more thankful to be spared having to compete for her attention. How much of that attention would have been directed his way now that she knew of his circumstances?
A knock echoed in the entryway, and Lady Dorothea sat up in anticipation. He had counted his luck prematurely.
“Well, it appears I have spoken too soon, and hordes of London society are this very moment at your door,” Miles said lightly, and in the next instant decided to launch his objective for coming. “I may not have another chance to present you with my request, so please allow me to ask if you would be free to drive with me in Hyde Park tomorrow afternoon?”
“I…um.”
Lady Dorothea glanced at the door, and he feared it was in hopes that the announcement of guests would save her from having to answer him. He hoped she would say yes, for then he might pursue his courtship without competition—at least for an afternoon.
“Thank you for your invitation, Mr. Shaw. I am free,” she returned briefly before bringing her eyes toward the door.
“Excellent.”
Her hard-won agreement caused his heart to beat with happiness. This was not something Miles had experienced since he was a green lad newly discovering the delight of a female smile turned in his direction. The way the sun seemed to come out at her acceptance made him think that maybe he would pursue this woman in earnest. If he could win her heart, she would not mind his lack of fortune.
The butler opened the door and announced, “Baronetess Lady Milton, and her daughters Miss Bernice Milton and Miss Abigail Milton.”
Lady Dorothea’s face seemed to fall slightly at the announcement. Miles knew it because he was watching her. He wondered if she had been hoping for other suitors, or if she simply did not like the baronet’s wife very much. She stood to receive them, and he leapt to his feet at her side.
Lady Milton moved forward with both hands outstretched, her daughters trailing behind her. “Lady Dorothea, how delighted I am to find you at home.” She gave the barest clasp of hands, then turned to observe Miles with an air of studied surprise before turning back with an arched brow. “Why, where is your mother?”
Lady Dorothea flushed in embarrassment for the second time, and although she opened her mouth, no ready answer left her lips.
Miles could not bear for her to feel uncomfortable and went against his nature to provide an answer to a question that was not addressed to him about an issue that did not concern him.
“Lady Sophia left us a moment ago. Did I understand correctly she wished to see that your mother was coming?”
Lady Dorothea smiled at him gratefully. “You did indeed.” Then, to Lady Milton, “My mother is unaccustomed to the late nights so early in the season, and my sister went to make sure Mother had everything she needed. They will both be joining us in a moment.”
Before the introductions could be performed, there was a tap on the door, and servants entered carrying a tray laden with a variety of cakes and a slender china teapot. Not an instant later, Lady Sophia and their mother arrived. Miles was glad for Lady Dorothea. He was given the impression the household ran a little haphazardly.
“Lady Milton, I apologize for my delay,” Lady Poole said. “Have you already had your tea?”
“We have not had time, Mama,” Lady Dorothea said, and Miles noted the distinct look of relief in her eyes. He was glad he had been able to do his small part to help her manage the guests in a way that would not cause tongues to wag.
She performed the introductions, and they all sat. Sophia prepared a plate for her mother as Lady Dorothea opened the lid to the teapot, then set it back again, allowing it to steep longer.
Lady Milton glanced around the empty room. “Well, I called upon Lady Berkley before coming here. Apparently, all of London has become smitten with Miss Maryann Stanley, who has taken thetonby storm with her fifteen thousand a year.”
A friend had pointed Miss Stanley out to him the week before, mentioning her wealth, but Miles had not seriously considered pursuing her. Yes, she was wealthy and beautiful, but she seemed too conscious of her attributes to tempt him.
“Miss Stanley, you say?” Lady Dorothea seemed arrested by the mention of the name.
“I’ve heard the gentlemen are congregating in her father’s drawing room as we speak,” Lady Milton went on. “There is even a line out the door, although there were a fair number of callers at Lady Berkley’s, too. I assured Lady Berkley that her ball must be deemed a success. It had even more people than I’d expected for so early in the season. I am sure our daughters enjoyed themselves immensely, didn’t you, girls?”
“I am sure I did,” the younger Miss Abigail said, who was by far the fairer of the two. “I cannot say the same for my sister, who did not dance more than two sets the entire evening.”
At her words, Miss Bernice flushed to her roots and sent a vicious look at her younger sister. As for Lady Dorothea, her face registered shock at the unnecessary cruelty, and she exchanged a look with Lady Sophia.
“Well, you have always been the fair one, my puss,” Lady Milton said complacently as she nibbled on the cake she had taken. “You must not dangle that over your sister’s head.”
Again, Miles did not miss the widening of Lady Dorothea’s eyes at this absence of maternal rebuke that would surely have restored sisterly harmony, and he liked her the better for it.
Lady Dorothea set her lips in a straight line and picked up the tea pot. “How do you take your tea, Lady Milton?”
