Page 14 of The Duke’s Scandal (Bluestocking Book Club #5)

Chapter Ten

I wonder where Lady Isobella is?

Amos made his way through the ballroom carefully, nodding and smiling at various acquaintances but quickly ignoring any young lady beckoning at him to come and join their conversation.

He did not want to stop at any conversation, did not want to linger with anyone.

The only person on his mind was Lady Isobella.

After their walk together in the park, he had come to the determined conclusion that he was going to seek to court her.

His question, however, had been left unanswered, that strange awkwardness building between them – an awkwardness that he had struggled to comprehend.

Thus, even though it was perhaps not the right course of action, Amos had decided he would seek her out and apologize for his forwardness, in the hope that she might not pull away from him.

If the thought of him coming to call upon her was so troubling, then mayhap he should linger only in conversations here and there before moving any further forward.

The last thing he desired was for her to move away from him .

It is strange just how quickly she has taken hold of me, he thought to himself, making his way to the French doors in the hope that she was out in the gardens. Suddenly now, I can think of no one else other than her.

“Oh, Your Grace! Good evening. How pleasant to see you again.”

Amos was forced to stop, bowing low so that Lady Clara would not see the grimace crossing his face. “Good evening, Lady Clara.”

She set her hand on his arm, coming a little closer to him – closer than she might have dared had they been inside the ballroom.

The darkness here hid a good deal more than otherwise might have been accepted.

“Let me introduce you to two of my very dear friends. Your Grace, might I present Lady Sara and Miss Abernathy.”

Amos bowed again, wishing he had not been forced to stop and speak with Lady Clara. He most certainly did not need to have two more young ladies fawning over him, not when he had already one young lady in mind. “A pleasure, of course.”

“Miss Abernathy is sister to the Viscount Hodgeson and Lady Sara’s father is the Earl of Dumfries.”

Putting on a smile, Amos nodded to both the young ladies. “How very good to meet you both.”

“And to meet you,” Lady Sara said, her voice a little soft, her eyes glinting in the moonlight. “Pray, tell us, are you to dance this evening? Miss Shelton has told us that, on occasion, you have chosen not to do so, greatly disappointing a good many young ladies!”

Are they both just as forward as she? Amos’ smile faded.

“I am not certain as yet,” he said, in clipped tones, hoping this would dissuade them from asking him anything further.

“I have only just arrived, and there are one or two acquaintances I very much wish to speak to this evening. That is my goal at present.”

The ladies all glanced at each other, with Miss Abernathy the first to speak. “Might I ask who they are? Mayhap we would be able to assist you.”

Having no desire to reveal that he was eager to speak to Lady Isobella, Amos forced a smile, beginning to move slowly away from them all. “Thank you for your offer of assistance, Miss Abernathy. I am sure I will find them soon enough! Do excuse me.”

The disappointment wrote itself on their faces in an instant, leaving Amos with an even greater urge to rush from them.

Miss Shelton had already reached out once to grasp at his arm, and he could have no assurance that she would not do so again!

Moving to the other side of the gardens, Amos ran one hand over his face, letting out a slow breath as he set aside his frustration.

Miss Shelton and her friends were persistent, determined, and more than a little forward!

He had to pray that they would not come to spy him out again later that evening.

“Oh, Your Grace! You have come to join us, I see.”

Amos blinked, his shoulders dropping. He had not seen Lady Deborah near him. “Lady Deborah, good evening.”

“My mother is just there.” She waved one hand carelessly to her left. “You recall Lady Victoria, yes?”

“Yes, of course.” Amos bowed, sweat breaking out across his forehead, his chest tightening with the feeling of being trapped. “Good evening to you also.”

Lady Victoria smiled but did not drop into a curtsy as Amos might have expected. “Your Grace, good evening.”

Smiling quickly, Amos wondered silently how he might escape this conversation and return inside. It was clear now that Lady Isobella was not present outside, which meant he had no cause to linger.

“Are you to disappoint us again, I wonder?” Lady Victoria continued when Amos did not say anything. “You are not to dance, mayhap?”

“I am not certain as yet,” Amos responded, wondering what made the thought of dancing with him so very appealing. “I may yet.”

“You shall have to be quick to make your decision, Your Grace!” Lady Deborah laughed, tapping his arm lightly, her eyes sparkling. “What if you discover that there are to be no young ladies left to dance with you? What if all their dances are taken and you are left quite despondent?”

“Then despondent I shall be,” Amos replied, with a forced smile. “I should excuse myself, for – ”

A sudden sound caught his attention, ripping the rest of his words from his mouth. It sounded like a cry of some kind, albeit quieter than a scream. Had someone been surprised in some way?

“I presume someone did not stay close to the lamps,” Lady Deborah remarked dismissively. “The paths through the garden are not well-lit. It is much more preferable to remain here, I am sure.”

Amos pulled his lips to one side, looking over to the darker part of the gardens. “I hope there is no one in some sort of distress.”

“I am sure there is not.” Lady Deborah shifted her stance so that she stood a little more directly in front of him, blocking his view of the garden. “Now, Your Grace – ”

“It did sound a little troubling to me.” Lady Victoria frowned, her eyes going to Amos, searching his face. “It was as if someone had been startled.”

“Because they did not stay close to the lamps.” Sounding exasperated now, Lady Deborah sighed heavily. “Come now, we need not worry, I am sure.”

The sound came again, a second time, and Amos’ skin prickled. “Mayhap I should go to make certain all is well. Even if someone has only been startled by something, it would be best, mayhap, to make certain all is well.”

Lady Victoria nodded, her eyes flicking from his face to the dark garden and then back again. “It would certainly make me feel a good deal more at ease if you would. We do not want anyone to be in distress.”

“Indeed not.”

Lady Deborah let out a heavy, almost plaintive sigh. “I am quite sure you are both making a good deal of fuss over nothing at all. Whatever it is, there will be nothing whatsoever to worry about.”

“You cannot be sure of that,” Lady Victoria said, quickly. “If the Duke wishes to go, then I am quite supportive of that.”

His mind made up, Amos began to walk away from Lady Deborah and Lady Victoria, still hearing Lady Deborah’s complaints ringing towards him.

The garden grounds were not particularly well lit aside from the one area he had been standing in, which gave him some concern.

Whatever that cry had been, he had to agree with Lady Victoria – there was some concern there.

“Is everything quite all right?” he called, the moonlight the only way to light his path now. Stumbling over something, he let out an exclamation of frustration, only to stand tall again.

A shadow moved.

“I do not mean to interrupt,” he said, a sudden flush of embarrassment overwhelming him.

What if he was interrupting a moment between a gentleman and a lady who might, unbeknownst to him, be already engaged and stealing only a brief few minutes together?

“I must know that all is well, however. I heard something and – ooft!”

Something smacked into him, hard, making him stumble back and knocking into what felt like a thousand needles stabbing him at once.

Someone rushed past him, then another. Whispers floated by him as Amos struggled to regain his standing.

Every time he put a hand back, something stung his skin, making it rather painful to stand.

“I am nothing but a fool,” he muttered to himself, managing now to right himself and brushing his hands down his clothes.

With a sigh, he took a breath, closed his eyes, and then let it out, giving himself a slight shake.

He would have to return to Lady Deborah and Lady Victoria and assure them that all was well.

Evidently, it had been just as he had feared, he had interrupted a moment between lovers. There was nothing here of note at all.

“Lady Victoria?” Coming back to where the ladies had been standing, Amos did not find them. Frowning, he made his way back to the ballroom, walking through the French doors as two other gentlemen followed him.

A frown tugged at his forehead as he stepped inside.

A young lady was pointing in the direction of the French doors – Lady Clara, was it not?

Walking away from her just as quickly as he could for fear that she, too would pull him into conversation, Amos tried to melt into the crowd but, for some strange reason, many a gentleman and lady were staring at him.

Frowning, he continued on his way, wondering just where he might find Lady Isobella.

“Your Grace?”

He turned, seeing not one but three young ladies staring back at him, their faces a little white. “Yes?” uncertain if he was acquainted with any of them, he tried quickly to remember their names. “Lady… ?”

“Lady Margaret.” The one who had spoken to him at the first, the one whose eyes were very large indeed now, staring up at him as she spoke, blinked rapidly. “What happened, might I ask?”

“Happened?” Amos, unsure as to what he was being asked, looked back at Lady Margaret in confusion. “I do not understand.”

“With Lady Clara and Lady Sara,” she said, turning a little so as to gesture behind her. “They both rushed in and said that you – well, that there was some commotion outside.”

A heavy weight dropped into Amos’ stomach.

Was this why everyone was looking at him?

Did they believe that he had something to do with whatever had occurred?

“I am afraid I cannot tell you, Lady Margaret,” he said, as she and her friends all glanced at each other.

“I was not present with them, you see. I was, instead, looking in the gardens for… ”

“For what?” The lady lifted an eyebrow, and a cold hand gripped Amos’ heart. What could he say? If he stated that he had been searching for the sound of someone in distress, would they not then think that he was responsible for the commotion – even more so than they clearly already did?

“For the stars,” he lied, with what he hoped was a confident smile. “The gardens were very well lit, so I took myself to a quieter part in the hope of seeing some of the stars. They are very bright this evening!”

This did not appear to convince Lady Margaret for she sniffed once, then lifted her chin. “Is that so, Your Grace?”

“It is. I am sorry for whatever has happened to Lady Clara, but I can assure you it has nothing to do with me.” Thinking it best to bring the conversation to an end, he bowed to them all and kept a smile on his face.

A smile he most certainly did not feel. “Do excuse me. I must go in search of my friend.”

Stepping away, he kept his head low as he began to stride towards the door, worrying now that something amiss had occurred and that he was, for some reason, to be given the blame for it all.

To leave the ball might make him appear guilty, yes, but until he knew precisely what it was he was being blamed for, Amos did not know what else to do.

“Did you find her?” Lord Galbraith stepped in front of him, a broad grin on his face. “Your expression is a little dismal, so I must fear you have not.”

Amos looked back at his friend. “Galbraith, something has happened.”

The smile slid from Lord Galbraith’s face at once. “What do you mean?”

Looking over his shoulder, Amos scowled. “I cannot say but there seems to have been some upset out in the gardens.” He looked back at Lord Galbraith. “I was present and I had a very forward young lady come to speak with me, suggesting that I was in some way responsible!”

“That is preposterous!”

“I appreciate your trust in me.” Amos’ heart began to quicken. “But I am not certain what I should do. Remain here and wait to see what is said of me, or return home.”

Lord Galbraith pressed his lips into a thin line, then stepped to one side.

“I suggest you go to Whites or some such thing. Do not return home, but let yourself be seen there. To make your way home would suggest you have done something wrong, but to go to Whites means you can tell others present that you enjoyed the ball and then thought to find a little quietness in Whites thereafter. That way, the ton will think that you have made your way to Whites simply because you have had quite enough of the ball!”

Amos nodded. “Very well.”

“I will find out what I can and then come to join you,” Lord Galbraith told him, firmly. “Wait there for me, no matter how late it gets.”

“I shall.” With a word of thanks, Amos made his way from the ballroom without a word to anyone.

He kept his head high and smiled at this person and then the other, making sure not to rush his steps.

All the while, however, his heart was pounding, his fear growing as he battled worry and doubt.

What was it that had happened to Lady Clara?

And why did so many seem to think him responsible?