Page 8 of The Duke’s Scandal (Bluestocking Book Club #5)
Chapter Six
A mos put his hands behind his back and tried to smile. “Why yes, I did only dance once at the ball,” he said, seeing Lady Deborah frown. “But there was a good reason for that.”
“Oh?” Lady Clara lifted one eyebrow, her lips pursed and what looked like a glint of anger in her eyes. “Why would you stand up with a bluestocking and not with the likes of us?”
A little taken aback by the lady’s irritation, Amos wondered if he ought to frown and remind the lady that she had no right to question him as she was doing, only to set that idea aside.
It would only cause her a little more upset, he considered, if he were to do such a thing.
“It was by way of apology,” he explained, choosing not to say anything more on the subject.
“But I have promised you all that I shall dance this evening, have I not?”
This made Lady Clara scowl instead of smile, as Amos had hoped. “You will have an excuse again, I fear.”
“Clara!” Lady Deborah turned to her friend, putting a hand on her arm.
“We must trust the Duke’s word. If he had good reason to stand up with Lady Isobella, then we must accept it…
and look forward to the dance this evening.
” Her light smile was quickly directed back towards him.
“I am sure that the Duke will do as he has said.”
“I most certainly shall,” Amos determined, although inwardly frustrated that he was going to have to dance with Lady Clara and, no doubt, Miss Shelton when she discovered that he was to dance.
“I hope you do not mind if I join this conversation?”
Amos glanced to his right as a gentleman he was not yet acquainted with came to join them.
He was a heavy-set fellow, with eyebrows sitting low over his eyes with his jaw jutting forward.
This gave him the appearance of being most displeased with something although Amos considered that might well just be his own perception.
“Lord Welton, of course.” It was Lady Clara who spoke first, putting a smile on her face and then gesturing to Amos. “Might I introduce you to the Duke of Exeter? Your Grace, this is the Earl of Welton.”
Amos bowed. “Glad to make your acquaintance.”
The gentleman returned the bow but said nothing, no smile on his face.
“What was it you were all discussing?” he asked, turning his attention now to Lady Deborah. “Something of importance, no doubt!”
Lady Clara laughed at this, making Amos squirm inwardly.
“Oh, not at all. We were only asking the Duke of Exeter why he stood up with a young lady at the ball when he had told both me and Lady Deborah that he was not to dance at all! He has promised to dance with us at the ball this evening; however, we have decided to forgive him.”
Lord Welton snorted. “Not of importance in the least, then!” He threw a look towards Amos. “Yes, I did hear about some Duke or other dancing with a bluestocking. A most extraordinary choice of partner, Your Grace, especially when you have such ladies as Lady Deborah and Lady Clara beside you!”
Disliking this particular remark, Amos let the edge of his lip curl but said nothing more, not at all interested in hearing anything further about Lady Isobella.
“You must think poorly of bluestockings, Your Grace,” Lord Welton continued, nudging Amos with his elbow in a most displeasing manner. “Most gentlemen in London think that way about them! There can be nothing good about such creatures, I am sure.”
“I do not think the same way, then,” Amos replied, snapping his heels together. “I shall take my leave of you all now and permit Lord Welton to have a conversation with you both in peace. Good afternoon.”
“Oh, Your Grace, please!”
Much to Amos’ surprise, Lady Clara stepped forward just as he was turning.
Her hand reached out, grabbing at him, clearly determined to pull him back, only for her hand to snag on one of the buttons of his tailcoat.
There came a pop, and, with that, the sound of something tearing.
Lady Clara let out a squeak of surprise, then put both hands to her cheeks, her face now scarlet.
Amos looked down, seeing not only one button half torn from his tailcoat but another quite gone, leaving a hole where it ought to be. Every eye would be on him now, he was sure, for he could not easily walk through Hyde Park at the fashionable hour without being seen and this discrepancy noted!
“I can only apologize,” Lady Clara whispered, tears shimmering in her eyes as Amos glanced at her and then stepped back, looking all around for the missing button. “I only meant to catch your arm for a moment.”
Seeing the button, Amos bent to pick it up. “Of course.” Struggling to smile against his own sense of embarrassment and the beginnings of anger, he bowed sharply. “Pray, think nothing of it. Do excuse me.”
As he began to walk away, he heard Lady Clara begin to cry, but did not turn his head to step back towards her.
There was no comfort he could offer, not at this present moment.
Quite what she had been doing, Amos could not imagine, for it was most improper for any young lady to grasp at his arm in the way she had done!
This had not been a very pleasant afternoon, he considered, for the conversation with Lady Deborah and Lady Clara had not been enjoyable, and the arrival of Lord Welton had added nothing to it either!
He had heard more than one person present remarking upon his single dance – and with a bluestocking no less – and now, no doubt, there would come more whispers about the state of his tailcoat!
All the same, I do not regret dancing with her, he thought to himself, striding across the park and doing his best to avoid looking at any of the other ladies and gentlemen who tried to catch his gaze. Lady Isobella was very lovely indeed.
He stopped suddenly, his brow furrowing.
Lady Isobella was not someone who had appeared in the least bit taken with his standing as a Duke.
She had spoken to him quite sharply at times, had shown no deference, and had not once attempted to be coy or teasing.
Neither had she hidden the fact that she was a bluestocking from him, which was all the more noteworthy!
If she had wanted to catch his attention in any way, then might she not have pretended she was not such a thing ?
“She is beautiful, intelligent, and without facade,” he murmured aloud, his heart beginning to quicken its pace. “Might I not think of pursuing her ?”
It was a strange thought, an unexpected one, but the more Amos let himself think on it, the more certain he became.
Was this not what he had wanted? Had he not told himself that he wanted a young lady who would not gaze up at him with shining eyes, lost in a dream of good fortune and high standing?
A smile began to spread across his face, his hope rising sharply.
If he called upon her, then surely within a week or two, he would know for certain whether or not she was someone he could be drawn to!
He would learn more about her, see more of her character, understand her all the better – and from that, could not courtship be in view?
His reverie was suddenly shattered by the loud crack of lightning, making him jump in fright.
The thunder that came thereafter sent a tremor through his bones, swiftly followed by the beginnings of what swiftly became a downpour.
All around him, gentlemen and ladies began to scramble for their carriages, with some screaming with fright at the furious sounds.
Amos began to hurry, his ruined tailcoat now catching the brunt of the rain.
He had quite forgotten where his carriage was, losing his bearings all the more in the melee that quickly swallowed him up.
Relentless, the thunderstorm drove everyone from the park, soaking many – including Amos – to the bone.
Amos shoved one hand through his hair, grimacing. “No, Galbraith. I did not have the very best of afternoons.”
His brother-in-law chuckled, tipping his head as he regarded Amos. “I can see that. ”
“The fashionable hour was… ” Taking a hold of his coat with each hand, he pulled it back a little, seeing the drips of water collecting at the edges. “It was a disaster.”
Lord Galbraith’s smile did not fade. “I presume that you had many a conversation, however? Before the rain, I mean?”
Amos stripped off his tailcoat and began to unbutton his waistcoat.
He would take both to his bedchamber in a moment, where the valet could do his best to salvage them.
“I had some. Most of them involved people demanding to know why I stood up with a bluestocking and refused to dance with any other.” He scowled, holding up the ripped tailcoat.
“ This was Lady Clara’s attempt to keep me in her company when I tried to move away.
” Grimacing, he shook his head. “The arrival of a Lord Welton pushed me from that conversation, but it appears she was determined to have me stay!”
“Goodness.” The smile on Lord Galbraith’s face was gone now. “That is a little… unfortunate.”
“I shall have it replaced, if it cannot be repaired,” Amos shrugged, “but it is the audacity of her actions which troubles me! Lady Deborah is not at all the same as her friend, but all the same, she did seem upset that I stood up with Lady Isobella and not with her.”
“Understandably.”
This gave Amos pause.
“You said to three ladies, if not more, that you were not to dance,” Lord Galbraith said, as Amos pushed his fingers through his wet hair for the second time. “Then you forgot yourself and danced with Lady Isobella. They feel slighted, which is something I can understand.”
Amos grimaced. “It was not intentional.”
“I know.” Lord Galbraith sighed and then sat back in his chair, eyeing Amos.
“But you are the Duke of Exeter. As I have said to you, time and again, you are going to be pursued by nearly every eligible young lady here in London!” He eyed Amos’s tailcoat.
“I did not think that it would ever reach such an extent that your clothes would be torn, but all the same, that is something you must expect! Every young lady who is eligible will want to catch your eye.”
“Except for the bluestocking herself.”
Lord Galbraith’s eyebrows shot upwards.
“Lady Isobella, I mean,” Amos continued, walking across to where the decanter of whisky sat at the opposite end of the drawing room. “As I was walking away from Lady Clara and Lady Deborah, I realized that Lady Isobella was quite different from them both.”
“Oh? In what way?”
Amos poured a measure for himself and then one for Lord Galbraith.
“She did nothing to garner my attention. Nor did she seek me out, eager for me to notice her.” Handing one glass to Lord Galbraith, he took a small sip of his own whisky, smacking his lips together as the heat began to wash over him.
“I realized that young ladies want to do whatever they can to catch my interest. If I were she, I would not say anything about being a bluestocking, knowing what society thinks of them.”
“And yet, she did,” Lord Galbraith said, speaking slowly as Amos nodded fervently. “She has told you from the beginning that she is a bluestocking.”
“Even when she knew I was a Duke, she did not even think to hide that about herself,” Amos continued, warming to the subject.
“The way she has spoken to me is unlike any other young lady I have met as yet. There is frankness there, a direct manner of speaking that is both refreshing and surprising.”
Lord Galbraith began to smile. “Does this mean that you are thinking of considering her as a bride?”
Scoffing at this, Amos sat down in a chair, only to get up again as the dampness of his clothes stuck to his skin. “Not as a bride, no, not as yet. I do not know her well enough yet to consider such a thing.”
“Then you will call upon her, I presume?”
Nodding, Amos’ heart lifted with a fresh hope. “Yes, I think I shall. Take tea, and the like.”
“You are aware that the ton will speak of such a thing, yes?”
That made Amos frown, his hopes crumbling at the edges. “I confess, I had not thought of that.”
“Then mayhap do not call upon her,” his brother-in-law suggested. “Not as yet. You might, instead, walk through the park at the same time as she and unexpectedly meet.”
Amos chuckled. “A little more clandestine, yes?”
“Yes, but it is to keep the gossip from you both. Until, mayhap, you decide whether or not to pursue a connection with her.”
“An excellent notion.” Throwing back the rest of his whisky, Amos let out a sigh of contentment. “You have greatly improved my afternoon, Galbraith. I thank you. Now, however, I must go and change.”
“And see if your tailcoat can be repaired,” Lord Galbraith called after him, as Amos quit the room. “Perhaps the buttons need to be sewn on with double the amount of thread so that Lady Clara will not be able to pull them from you again!”
Laughing, Amos walked out of the room and made his way towards his bed chamber, more than ready for this afternoon to be at an end.
The ball this evening should be an excellent one, and with any luck, he might find Lady Isobella again.
Yes, he would have to dance with all those he had promised to already, but mayhap he would also be able to stand up with her, and that, Amos considered, would be a very enjoyable time indeed.