Page 38 of Always the Bridesmaid, Never the Duchess (Wallflower Season #3)
Chapter Two
“ L ord Weston!” Edward’s voice cut politely over the crowd surrounding them, waiting for the man in question to turn while pulling Scarlet along for the ride.
He had hooked her arm through his own and started to drag her along with him around the dance floor.
“You shall behave; will you not?” he warned, not at all posing it as a question to his sister.
Scarlet pursed her lips and allowed herself to be dragged.
They came to stop in front of a gentleman who was abundantly handsome; there certainly was no denying that in the slightest. He was taller than Edward and well-built with broad shoulders that tapered down into a narrow waist and perfect posture.
However, he did not seem the sort to have seen combat of any kind, a dandy through and through.
It was the sort of handsome that she would imagine would spend all day writing sonnets and picking the very best flowers.
He had a romantic set to his jaw, soft, that only added to his deep-brown eyes and blond hair.
His smile dazzled her when he turned. Certainly, he looked the sort of gentleman who ought to have every single woman in the room competing for his attention, and yet, there was something about him that Scarlet felt… underwhelmed by.
“Lord Hargreaves! It is wonderful to see you!” Lord Weston announced and offered his hand to Edward, who shook it firmly. “I confess I was hoping to see you here this evening so that we might continue our chat.”
“Nothing would make me happier, Lord Weston.” Edward grinned and pushed Scarlet up closer to them. “But first, I had hoped to introduce you to my youngest sister, Scarlet.”
“How do you do, My Lord?” Scarlet dipped into a demure curtsy; her training in manners would never allow for any other sort of reaction, given the circumstances.
Lord Weston bowed in return. Something in his brown eyes sparkled as he took in the sight of her. “I am doing far better now to have been introduced to somebody as lovely as you. I shall eternally be in Edward’s debt for the pleasure of your acquaintance.”
“You flatter me, My Lord, and I have yet said but so few words to you.” Scarlet smiled, the underhanded implications of her statement going right over his head just as she figured that they would.
Pretty as his features might be considered to many, Scarlet was long exhausted over the men who saw her as a beautiful figure and nothing else.
It was why she had not yet selected one man over the others from her bevy of suitors.
She could already tell that he was not going to be any different than the others. Not that there was a single thing that she could do about it now that her brother stood to watch over the encounter.
Lord Weston leaned closer, dropping his voice until it bordered on impropriety. “If your brother was not standing so near to us, I am certain that we would have a great many interesting things to discuss.”
Scarlet leaned back and away from him but giggled, nonetheless. “My Lord, you must maintain your distance!”
“Say that you have spared space on your dance card for me this evening? I shall never recover if you have not,” Lord Weston asked charmingly. Somewhere beside them, another lady tutted her voice in jealousy, but he paid her no mind.
He is coming on rather strongly.
Scarlet could feel eyes passing over them as she lifted her hand for him to write his name on her dance card.
No doubt he was a perfect dancer; he looked like the sort of man who prided himself on being good at just about everything.
Too much perfection was boring, and she was already dreading the dance entirely.
She knew that she ought to keep her attention focused on the gentleman in front of her; Edward would be cross with her if she were to start looking elsewhere, but she could not help it.
She just did not feel engaged in the conversation.
Her eyes drifted until she found the small group of her friends standing near the table with glasses of wine and lemonade.
“I look forward to it very much, My Lord. I trust that you will come and find me later?” Scarlet asked without looking at him.
“Uhm, must you leave so quickly? We have only just begun speaking,” Lord Weston interjected. His hand lifted as if he wished to touch her arm or hold her closer to him, but then, he quickly thought better of it.
“Certainly, we shall need to leave some mystery between us to discuss during our dance?” Scarlet said simply, but her heart was not in it.
She flashed a pleasant smile, the very same sort of smile that she employed day after day.
It was not that she did not like the gifts and flowers that were brought to her…
she just could not shake the feeling that she was missing something.
She just had not yet figured out exactly what that something was. If Edward only wished for her to find a husband, she knew that she needed to find what that missing something was, and quickly, lest she be unable to manipulate the situation into something that she could live with.
Her mother had married for love and losing that love had nearly broken her.
Her sister had married for love, and even for as serious of a person that Violet tended to be — her husband brought out the very best in her.
If Scarlet could not find love, and she was not entirely certain that she was ready to, then she would settle for passion. Whatever form it came in.
Scarlet dipped her head. “If you will excuse me, I am parched and would like to get a drink.”
“I would be more than happy to fetch something for you, Miss Scarlet, if you wish—” Lord Weston’s offer faded into the distance, overlaid by her brother’s voice as Edward bubbled some form of an excuse before turning and removing himself from the conversation.
She would deal with Edward later. She just needed a moment to breathe, to regroup herself. She could do that best with those whom she knew asked nothing of her but her company. That was what she truly needed right now.
Scarlet did not stop or slow on her path to her friends.
Her hands reached out in a warm, happy greeting for their hands long before she could reach them.
The relief of being near people that she loved and trusted so dearly was like a knot unwinding in her chest as Poppy and Rosalie reached forward to take one of each of their hands in their own and pulled her into their small group happily.
She could have hugged them for how pleased she was to be near decent conversation again.
It did not even matter what it was that they were discussing, anything was better than what she had just left.
The three women whom Scarlet considered to be her dearest friends were in the middle of a conversation about the person who had been hired to decorate the fine hall, a rather heated discussion it would seem.
“I have implored my dear Henry to inquire as to who it is under the guise that we should like to hire them for the next ball that we will hold at our estate—” Rosalie Cuthbert, the only of the group that was presently married, leaned in as she spoke and lowered her voice conspiratorially.
“But in truth, I should just like to know who to avoid! Could you imagine such a modern estate as ours decorated in such a garish fashion? It should be the sort of room that my matron might have designed but never somebody of my standing! I should shudder at the thought!” Rosalie laughed and glanced in the direction of her husband, who was very clearly not inquiring as to the decorator.
Instead, he stood some three feet from them, sipping on a glass of dark red wine, ignoring them completely.
Rosie blustered but rapidly corrected. “Regardless, I already have our first ball all planned out in my mind!”
“Have you had any luck in correcting the behavior of your housekeeper? The last that you had said, she was being rather unruly,” Jane asked with a smirk.
“Thank you,” Rosalie answered and then folded.
“No, I have not. I have yet to catch her in the act, and my darling husband, Henry, seems to think that, somehow, I am overreacting to the whole situation. She has been a part of their household since he was a boy, and he is rather fond of her. Though, for the life of me, I cannot figure out why. She is rude, crude…does not seem to accomplish anything at all! Henry will not listen to me on the subject.”
“These are all just further reasons why I am blissfully happy that my parents did not force me to marry. I should never put up with such behavior,” Jane answered haughtily.
She was the eldest of the group, having entered Society a solid year ahead of the rest. Though, it was commonly said, it was her forward attitude that kept her from marrying, for she had a handsome enough face.
Poppy said nothing, for she was unwed just the same as Scarlet, and they had chosen not to form opinions on such matters.
Before meeting the Duke, Violet had always said that she would be a spinster.
She had never shown any desire to marry, and all of the pressure had been placed upon Scarlet.
Ironic, now that Violet was the only one of the siblings who was presently married.
“I think perhaps it was fortunate that you married when you did, Rosalie, for all of the good, interesting gentlemen seem to already have attachments,” Scarlet said finally, turning the attention back to herself.
“I do not think that you can adequately call my husband good or interesting , but he is wealthy which was my goal in the whole thing.” Rosalie sighed into her wine goblet. “Do you not find a single one interesting? We all saw you speaking with Lord Weston; we were just speaking about it actually.”