Candice Hern (9 page)

Beatrice smiled. The duke seemed satisfied with Emily's background, despite the lack of blue blood in her family tree. Perhaps it was sufficient that her late uncle Somerfield had been an earl and her grandfather, Beatrice's father, had been a viscount. If the duke approved of Emily, and he certainly appeared to do so, then his opinion would surely carry some weight with the marquess. This excursion to Doncaster House was turning out to be more successful than Beatrice could ever have dreamed.

If only Lord Thayne were not so rigid and unapproachable. She could not imagine a girl of Emily's temperament being happy with such a man. But perhaps she was being unfair. She'd only known the marquess for a few minutes and was no doubt rushing to judgment. There might be more to the man than met the eye. She must get to know him.

"Here we are," the duchess announced, as a liveried footman — there seemed to be an army of them — opened the door to the ballroom.

For a brief moment, Beatrice forgot her concerns about the marquess. The room was magnificent, surely the largest and most imposing of all that had ever hosted a Benevolent Widows Fund ball. The ceiling coved to a great height, and was elaborately coffered and gilded, with plaster medallions in the four corners. The long central compartment of the ceiling held three large, slightly concave circles that gave the appearance of shallow domes. Enormous crystal chandeliers hung from each of them.

The glint of gold was everywhere: on the coffered ceiling and the floral frieze below it, on the overdoor pediments festooned with garlands of fruit and flowers, on the ornate gilt frames of a set of enormous mirrors that lined two walls and made the room appear even larger. The fireplace, of white marble, was topped with a carved and gilded panel depicting the Three Graces that reached the edge of the ceiling frieze.

The only furniture in the room was a group of very fine chairs in the French style, upholstered in gold brocade, that had been placed along the walls.

"Well, what do you think?" the duchess said. "Will it do?"

"It is surely one of the most beautiful rooms I have ever seen," Beatrice said. "The ceiling quite takes my breath away."

Her Grace beamed with pride. "Yes, the ceiling is one of the treasures of the house. We added the chandeliers when we converted it to a ballroom."

The duke also puffed up a bit, equally proud of the room. "I am not sure how the second duke, who built the house, would have felt about them," he said, "but I think the chandeliers look rather splendid."

"They do indeed." Beatrice turned in a circle and gazed all around her. "They must look especially beautiful when fully lit and reflected in the mirrors. Oh, this is marvelous. Perfectly marvelous. You are so kind to lend it to us for one night. It will surely be our grandest ball ever."

"We will do our best to make it so," the duchess said. "And you, Miss Thirkill? Do you like the room as well?"

Emily was staring up at the ceiling with an awestruck smile on her face. No doubt she was imagining one day being the mistress of such splendor. Beatrice did not blame her. Who cared about the man when there was all this?

"My goodness," Emily said in a breathless voice, "it is quite spectacular, is it not? I don't think I've ever seen anything so wonderful. Everywhere you look, there is some perfect detail. What do the medallions represent?"

The duchess smiled and took Emily's arm. "They are various scenes from Greek mythology. Let me show you."

The duke joined them, as did Mr. Burnett, but Beatrice held back and stood beside the marquess. She was determined to discover what sort of man came with the spectacular house. Who lurked beneath that regal presence?

"You must have missed all this," she said.

"I beg your pardon?" He actually glared down his nose at her.

Beatrice was tall, for a woman, and though he had several inches on her, he did not tower over her. But the upward tilt of his chin gave the impression of greater height. She suspected he would have appeared tall even if he were a head shorter than she. It was all a matter of bearing. That aristocratic carriage.

Perhaps he was simply accustomed to people kowtowing to him. How would he react to someone who did not?

"I understand," she said in a breezy voice, "that you have been away for quite some time, Lord Thayne."

"That is correct." His tone was clipped, almost brusque. "I have been out of the country for the last eight years."

"Eight years?" It was no wonder he was such a novelty this Season. He had not been seen in all that time. Had he come home to marry? And if so, would he put roots in English soil or gad about the globe all his life? "My goodness, such a long time. I cannot imagine being away from home for so many years. Were you traveling for pleasure, or perhaps on government business?"

His eyes narrowed slightly as he continued to look down at her. "A bit of both."

She bit back a groan. Clearly he was not going to be forthcoming with details. What an odiously taciturn man. "It must have been interesting to see different countries. I should love to travel, I think. I have never been beyond our borders, I'm afraid. Unless one counts Scotland as a foreign country, which, of course, it often seems to be. Especially the farther north one travels. The Highland accent can sometimes sound like a foreign language. What parts of the world did you visit?"

"India, mostly. And the Punjab, Persia, Afghanistan, Java, Burma. Central and South Asia for the most part."

"Heavens, how exotic! It must have been fascinating."

"Yes."

"But after such a long time away, it must feel good to be back on sturdy English soil. And to be back in this grand house."

"Yes, it is good to be home."

"Do you plan to settle in England now?"

He arched a dark eyebrow. He did not misunderstand her probing. "I hope I have the opportunity to travel again one day. But yes, I plan to stay in England and ... settle."

"Do you have a home of your own, Lord Thayne, or will you continue to reside here at Doncaster House?"

The other dark eyebrow lifted to join the first. "So many questions, Lady Somerfield."

And so few answers
.

"Forgive me, my lord. I do not mean to be impertinent. But I am ... interested in such things, you understand."

His eyes glinted with the faintest hint of amusement. "I do understand. You are a doting aunt to Miss Thirkill, I believe."

Beatrice felt her cheeks heat with a blush. She really was being an impertinent busybody. But it was worth it just to see that tiny crack in his reserve.

"But I shall tell you what you wish to know," he said. "I have an estate of my own in Northamptonshire. It is not quite as grand as the ducal seat at Hadbury Park, but large enough. And I have purchased a town house on Cavendish Square, which is in the process of renovation. I have fortune enough to support both houses ... and a family. I plan to take my role in Lords seriously and hope one day to have an official position in foreign affairs. I collect art, primarily sculpture. And I enjoy hunting and shooting. There. Now you know all there is to know about me. Do I pass inspection?"

Beatrice smiled. "I shall have to get to know you better before I can say."

"I look forward to it." His gaze became more intense, and Beatrice felt her knees go weak. She had to look away. She did not want him to misunderstand. It was not for herself she asked all those questions.

"But on first meeting," she said, not daring to look at him, "it seems you have led a full life and have an impressive future ahead. Now, let me see what the duke is telling my niece about the ceiling."

* * *

Thayne watched her walk away and wondered what had just happened between them. He was bewildered by his reaction to her. His thoroughly sexual reaction. She was a striking looking woman, to be sure, with the palest alabaster skin set off by hair the color of a Titian Madonna. But she had not been flirting with him. He was quite sure she was not. She was merely a tenacious chaperone looking to him as a suitor for her niece.

He'd faced many a hopeful chaperone already this Season, but none who'd made his blood run warm.

This would not do. He should be paying more attention to the beautiful Miss Thirkill, who already appeared to have the duke wrapped around her pretty little finger. Lady Somerfield engaged his mother in a discussion about the ball — a masquerade, of all things! — and how to set up the room, while her niece laughed delightedly at something his father was telling her. They were all of them conspiring to set her up as his future marchioness. He supposed he ought to feel apprehensive, that the situation had spun out of his control, but he did not. Not yet. He had no objections to the girl, after all.

But as he watched the four of them, his eye was more often drawn to her aunt.

Burnett had strolled over to join him and now stood at Thayne's side.

"Well, what do you think?" he asked in a low whisper. His eyes never left Miss Thirkill. "I do believe the duchess has come through with a winner. Have you ever seen such a pretty girl?"

Thayne followed his gaze. "She is very beautiful, to be sure. She knows it, too."

"How could she not? She must surely look into a mirror now and then. You do not like her? You think she is too self-assured?"

"No, she is quite charming."

"She can't help being beautiful, Thayne. Such good looks must surely give her a degree of confidence other young women may lack."

"Yes, and I think that is why the duke and duchess are so taken with her. She has the poise and confidence that suits a marchioness and future duchess."

"She has thoroughly seduced them both," Burnett said as he watched her. "They will be wanting an announcement soon."

"They will have to wait. I am not ready to commit myself to any young woman until I know her better." Thayne chuckled at the recollection of similar words from her aunt. "Lady Somerfield must agree. She quizzed me like a schoolmaster."

"Did she? I would think your rank and fortune speak for themselves. What else does a hopeful mama, or aunt, need to know?"

"I got the impression she was taking my measure, trying to determine what sort of man I am. She was almost impertinent. But I ... I like her. It is somehow refreshing to think that she cares for more than my rank and fortune."

At that moment, Miss Thirkill looked in their direction and smiled. She turned to speak to her aunt, who nodded, and then came tripping across the room to join them.

"Lord Thayne," she said, bringing the full force of her smile on him, "I simply won't take no for an answer."

"To what question, Miss Thirkill?"

"To an invitation. My aunt is hosting a barge party on Thursday. We are going to sail — or whatever a barge does; they have no sails, do they? — down the Thames while having a leisurely breakfast. We're going to Kew, to walk around the gardens a bit. You must join us, Lord Thayne, you simply must. It will be great fun, I assure you."

"It sounds delightful," Thayne said. "I shall be pleased to join Lady Somerfield's party."

Miss Thirkill clapped her hands together. "Excellent! Oh, and you must come, too, Mr. Burnett. If you are free."

"As a bird, Miss Thirkill," Burnett said. "It sounds marvelous. I wouldn't miss it."

"That's settled, then," she said. "We gather at the Palace Yard Stairs near Westminster Bridge at one o'clock on Thursday. I look forward to introducing you to some of my friends, Lord Thayne."

"And I look forward to meeting them, Miss Thirkill."

"Of course, many of us will be at Lady Wedmore's rout party tonight. Will you be attending as well?"

"Yes, I have accepted Lady Wedmore's invitation. As did Mr. Burnett. We have planned to attend together."

"Excellent! Perhaps I will see you there. I hope so. I believe we shall be arriving close to eleven o'clock. Of course, I cannot guess how long it will take us to reach the door. It's bound to be a mad crush."

Thayne took her message. Guests arrived and left at all hours at a rout because one never stayed very long. If he wanted to see Miss Thirkill, or honor her obvious wish to see him, then he now knew when to arrive.

Miss Thirkill returned to her aunt's side, and the two ladies departed a few minutes later, with Burnett tagging close behind.

And so it begins
, Thayne mused as he watched them go. That young woman would publicly attach herself to him as early as that evening. Their names would begin to be linked. Soon enough, there would be expectations of a match. It was all happening rather more quickly than he'd expected, but perhaps that was for the best. He would satisfy his bargain with the duke by marrying the most beautiful girl in London.

"By God, what a beauty!" his father exclaimed when they'd returned to the red drawing room. "What an excellent mother you have, my boy, to find such a delightful young woman for you."

"I did not find her," the duchess said as she arranged herself in her favorite chair. "I never laid eyes on the girl before today. She came along to keep her aunt company while we discussed plans for the charity ball."

"I think the countess is more shrewd than that," the duke said. "She knew precisely what she was about by bringing Miss Thirkill. I will admit that I had hoped for a higher match for you, Thayne, but the girl comes from good stock. She would make a perfect marchioness. What a lucky dog you will be to have such a beauty on your arm. I presume you have no objections to the girl?"

"I have only just met her, Father. Besides her being a beauty, I know little about her."

"What else is there to know? She has looks and breeding and is perfectly charming. Don't you agree, my dear?"

"I was quite taken with her," the duchess said. "She has a well-developed air of assurance for one so young. I believe she would wear the coronet as well as anyone. I would certainly approve a match."

"Last week you were singing the praises of Lady Emmeline Standish," Thayne said. "And Lady Catherine Villiers. And Miss Elizabeth Fancourt and a few others. Have they all been stricken from your list, Mother?"