Page 39 of A Duke's Overlooked Spinster
She is probably having tea with Lady Bardwell, discussing how awful I am,he thought with a wry smile.Perhaps I will not have to do anything at all.
He was about to go out when someone knocked at the inner door, the one that led to the communal parlor of the chambers he shared with his mother and Henry. He frowned and opened the door.
“Mama?” he asked.
His mother gazed up at him. Her expression was reproachful, but oddly not angry. He frowned, confused.
“Son, I have been thinking that perhaps I should reconsider. I have been wrong. Perhaps I have been pushing you too hard towards Lady Marina. Mayhap I have thrown her at you, have I not?” She raised a brow, a rueful smile on her lips.
“Um...well...” Robert stammered, feeling utterly bewildered. His mother was not ever apologetic—the most she ever did was somewhat boastfully concede that she might have acted in a different manner. He had never heard her apologize or consider that she could have been wrong. “Mama, I...” He tried to find the words—that he was not interested in Lady Marina, that he loved Miss Brooke—but her unexpected response floored him completely.
“Nobody wants something thrust under their nose, eh?” His mother smiled. “I have been like an overly persistent fairground vendor.” She chuckled ruefully. “I never buy from the ones that chase you.”
“No,” Robert admitted, almost amused by the image. “No, you do not.” Something felt wrong, but he could not put his finger on what it was.
“Well, that is all,” his mother said a little sadly. Robert cleared his throat.
“I did not mean to rebuke you so harshly,” he said carefully.
His mother’s gaze hardened for a moment and Robert felt almost relieved—that was more like her. But she said nothing. Robert stepped back, going towards his room.
“I will rest now,” his mother said, and when she said nothing further, Robert inclined his head politely, excusing himself. He shut the door and sat down in his own chamber, feeling exhausted.
He let out a long sigh. The events of the morning had left him utterly confused. His mother and Lady Marina confronting Miss Brooke in the garden, his anger at his mother and his realization that he had to act, had all worn him out. When he added to thathis mother’s sudden, confusing attitude to the entire matter, his head spun.
“What does she want?” he asked himself aloud.
He leaned back against the wall, closing his eyes. He could not even guess at her motives—mayhap she was sincere, mayhap not.
As he stood to go and check on Henry, he realized what had bothered him was that she had not said Marina was wrong for him, or that she would stop. All she had said was that she would do things differently, less persistently. As if he could change his mind about Marina if she was presented differently to him.
He sighed again.
“I will never understand her,” he said aloud, going into the hallway and shutting the door behind him.
All that he knew for certain was that he loved Miss Brooke and that he would do anything to foster his growing connection with her.
Chapter 18
Sarah stood on the stairs, her heart swirling with a mix of nerves and excitement, her breath tight in her throat. The noise in the ballroom rose and fell around her, the glow of the candles in the chandeliers hurting her eyes. She rested her hand for a moment on the lilac silk skirt of her ballgown, heart thudding in her chest. For the first time since she was invited by her cousin to stay, the thought of mingling with people felt tolerable.
It was because of the duke; she thought with a smile. The way that he had looked at her in the doorway of the gallery had filled her with wonder and more than a little confusion. She had never seen such tenderness, such warmth, in anyone’s gaze, never mind directed at her. Her father had made her feel, sometimes, as though her isolation from society was her own fault, as though not having succeeded at her first season should condemn her to a life of rattling around his house, fit only to oversee the staff. The duke’s gaze spoke otherwise and part of her could not understand it.
She took another deep breath, trying to calm herself, then walked down the steps into the ballroom.
“Sarah! My dear cousin. You look truly lovely,” Caroline greeted her. “I have never seen you in lilac! It becomes you so well.”
Sarah smiled shyly. She had studied her reflection in the looking glass before venturing down, and she had to admit that the effect was surprisingly striking. Her blue-gray eyes were enhanced by the pale lilac dress and she had to admit that it was a color that suited her extremely well.
“Thank you, cousin,” she murmured self-consciously. “And you look beautiful in blue.” That was completely true—the richblue that Caroline wore accented her striking reddish curls and complimented her hazel eyes.
“Thank you, my dear. And I must say, Edward is rather fetching in gray,” Caroline added with a grin at Edward, who stood beside her, his thin face wreathed with a poorly-suppressed grin upon hearing the compliment.
“Thank you, sweetling,” Edward managed to say before he went red with shyness. Sarah smiled at them both and looked away, wanting to relieve Edward from any awkwardness.
She drifted across the ballroom. Her gaze moved from one side to the other, looking for the duke, though she could barely admit it even to herself. She recalled with a blush how striking he had looked at the last assembly he attended. His long, slender visage framed by a cravat and his thick, dark blonde locks, while the blue coat he wore accentuated his azure eyes. She could not wait to see him.
“Ah! Miss Brooke! What a lovely dress! You must tell me who your seamstress is. Is she in London?” Lady Egerton asked. Sarah smiled at her, the compliment bringing a glow of warmth to her heart.
