“Well whatever it was, be sure there is not a repeat of it,” Mary huffed. “You finally have the attention ofton’smost eligible gentleman. You do not want to lose it by having his.”
This time Seraphina could not help the words that left her mouth. Even if was rude, she felt the urge to defend Hugo.
“It was his willingness to dance with me that gained me the favor of those gentlemen to begin with,” she reminded her mother. “If he was truly that terrible, do you not think that it would have had the opposite effect?”
“He is a Duke, Seraphina,” Mary replied, crossing her arms in frustration, “His station alone was what saved you, but if you keep entertaining his company, it is his reputation that will destroy you. Now I say again, stay away from him.”
The carriage stopped, and with it so did their conversation. As much as Seraphina wanted to continue to argue, she knew her mother was right. Acknowledgement of that filled her with disappointment, and as they walked into the ballroom, she found it difficult to smile.
She would not be marrying the Duke. It would not be good for her. Even if it did take her off the marriage mart, she would still be disdained by society. But part of her wondered if it truly mattered. Could the right marriage truly make thetonforget her questionable lineage?
“Ms. Kinderson, Miss Seraphina, how lovely to see you both.” Tristan stated.
Seraphina forced a smile as the Earl approached.
“Lord Briarwood, thank you for the warm welcome,” Seraphina replied as she curtseyed. “Have you been here long yourself?”
“Indeed,” he agreed, “And to be honest it has been quite dull. Until now.”
Seraphina joined him in his small chuckle, but Mary barely hid her displeasure. It was clear she only wanted attention from the higher- ranking nobles.
“I recall from my dinner party you are quite the elegant dancer, Miss Kinderson,” Tristan went on, seemingly undeterred by the scant courtesy of Mary’s greeting, “If your dance card isnot already full, I would be honored to take your first of the evening.”
Seraphina looked toward her mother for permission, and she gave a begrudging nod. She indeed did not have any names on her dance card yet, and no doubt, Mary hoped the dance would encourage the others to remedy that.
“Is Theo here with you this evening?” She asked as Tristan guided her to the dance floor.
“I am afraid not,” he replied, “Our mother has come down with a cold and she was kind enough to stay and keep her company.”
“I am sorry to hear that,” Seraphina replied, feeling her disappointment intensify. “I shall send flowers tomorrow to wish her a quick recovery.”
Tristan chuckled as they took their first steps into the dance, his smile handsome.
“You are such a kind woman, Seraphina,” Tristan praised, “No wonder Fenwick is drawn to you.”
Seraphina felt a tingle go up her spine at the mention of Hugo’s name, and her eyes immediately roamed the room. She found him in an instant, and as they locked gazes, she felt her heart begin to thud.
“Drawn or not, I have refused him,” she insisted, nearly missing a step as she forced her eyes away from Hugo. “My mother and thetonbelieve he would be bad for me, and I must agree with them.”
Tristan’s brows drew up in surprise as he stepped out to twirl her.
“It is not like you to follow the single-mindedness of this boring hive, Seraphina,” he replied. “Do you truly believe the rumors whispered about him? Especially after hearing all the awful things they say about you?”
Though she knew Tristan was only asking genuine questions, she still felt hurt slice through her at the mention of her own struggles.
“I will admit that the Duke has been kind to me, at times,” she replied, “But I have seen his temper flare and his overconfidence is astounding. And yes, thetonhas said some awful things about me, but they are the truth. I cannot deny my birth. I was born out of wedlock.”
“If you are dissuaded by his confidence then I am afraid you might as well surrender to spinsterhood, Seraphina,” Tristan stated matter-of-factly, “There is not a single man in our society, me included, that does not think highly of themselves. We are raised that way. Fenwick, however, was not.”
Seraphina felt her curiosity spark.
“What do you mean?”
A look of discomfort briefly passed over Tristan’s face.
“It is something you should ask him yourself. I personally find it a wonder that he has any confidence at all. That man has more strength than anyone will ever know or understand.”
Questions formed immediately in Seraphina’s mind. What had happened to the Duke? Her mind raced back to the day he called on her, and she was reminded of the way he empathized with what she was going through with her mother. Was he berated by his parents as well? Or something far worse?