Page 6 of A Lady's Propitious Match
She has transformed, Christopher had to admit to himself as he did his best to make polite conversation with the Devereux family. Henrietta was most certainly an elegant debutante, just ashis mother had suggested, but Christopher was struggling to see if there was anything else to her. He had not yet noticed any depth to this young lady. She reminded him of his brother in many ways, the way she always seemed to be looking to others, to see how she was supposed to behave, and what others wanted her to do.
“So, Christopher, I can see you have met the lovely Miss Henrietta Devereux,” Lenora exclaimed excitedly. She was doing nothing to disguise her intentions here which made everything that much more embarrassing. “Henrietta also has an interest in art.”
It was obvious from the way that her cheeks shone red, this was not the case so Christopher decided to not even bother asking her any questions about her tastes. He simply offered her a warm smile, hoping that he could be polite enough to make her feel welcome, but not so warm it gave her the wrong idea.
It was an utter relief when their conversation was cut short by the announcement of dinner. The butler had no idea how much of a blessing this was. He did not need to say anything.
Christopher tactically took a seat at the other end of the table from his brother and wife. The final thing he desired was to endure Graham’s tedious, tiresome recital of his splendid existence and the flourishing state of his enterprise. The only good thing about his brother being at the dinner was the fact that he would draw all eyes on him, including their mother’s. Christopher did not wish to be the center of attention today…
Only things did not work out that way.
Lenora made sure to sit close to Christopher, and to ensure that Henrietta did too. It seemed that she was not yet done with her unwarranted matchmaking.
“So, Henrietta, Christopher…” his mother began, including them both in the conversation in a very informal way.
Probably trying her hardest to make them feel comfortable around one another, to expedite their closeness to push for a marriage proposal that was very unlikely to come.
Christopher could not help but wonder if she had done the same with Graham and his wife. Although she probably did not need to. Graham would always do whatever he was told to. If Julianna was considered the best woman for him, he wouldpropose without even needing to be told that was what he needed to do. Just because he was so in tune with everything that was expected of him.
“Are you looking forward to the upcoming balls this Season?”
Henrietta lit up. “Ah yes, of course. It seems the season is filled with a plethora of engagements, and I am thoroughly excited to experience them all. I have heard such wonderful things.”
Lenora frowned at him as Christopher did not respond. She already knew that he was not thrilled to be a part of any of this, but still she seemed to expect him to lie. To be fake. This was why he hated London society. No one was authentic anymore. No one said what they were really thinking. It had not been this way throughout Europe. Not to the same extent anyway.
“I am excited to see the gowns that everyone will be wearing at these balls,” Henrietta continued, not sensing any burning tension between Christopher and his mother. “And the floral arrangements as well. I have heard that they can be quite spectacular. Really something to catch the eye.”
“I am sure that you will look the most beautiful of all, Henrietta. What do you think Christopher? She looks lovely even without a ball gown. So graceful and elegant.”
Luckily, Christopher did not need to respond because Henrietta was so utterly astonished by the compliment, that she could not resist talking about all the dresses that she had planned for the Season.
Christopher leaned back in his seat, detached from the conversation. He was a little disappointed by Henrietta’s lack of nuance. She seemed very excited to discuss superficial topics, but he was yet to see any depth. Without that, he would lack mental stimulation, which he was starting to realize was paramount for his future. He needed someone that he could talk to, about deep things. Someone who was interested in so much more than what the London ton was interested in. Gossip and societal events did not enthuse Christopher at all, and that was not something he could see changing.
“It can be like novels, Henrietta,” Lenora continued, perhaps sensing that her son had switched off. “What sort of books do you like reading?”
This piqued Christopher’s interest. She might not really enjoy art, but if there was a commonality to be found in the books that they read, then that would help. Even if they had read one of the same books, that would give them something to analyze together. Something that they could talk about well in to the evening…
Henrietta’s eyes widened, but with worry. “Ah, literature! I do enjoy the occasional novel, of course. The characters and their dilemmas provide a delightful escape… I do not know if I could pick out a particular one though…”
Disappointment crushed Christopher. There was nothing of substance with that answer. It was almost as if she did not read at all. She had not even talked about a genre she liked to lose herself in, much less the title of any book in particular. There was nothing that he could say to that, no way of responding at all. Even Lenora started to sense the hopelessness within him because she pushed Henrietta further, but did not really get anywhere.
The food had only just been served. How on earth was Christopher going to get through this?
***
Christopher had been looking forward to some respite as the gentlemen retired to the parlor for brandy, with the women taking time in the drawing room. He needed a break from his mother and her incessant attempts to push him ever closer to Henrietta.
But once his path crossed a tipsy Graham, Christopher started to realize that his troubles for the evening had only just begun…
“And here he is,” Graham announced with a manner befitting the showcasing of a highly esteemed canine companion. “My brother. The artist. The one who spends all his days lazing around.”
A few of Graham’s idiotic friends laughed as he slung his arm over Christopher’s shoulder, to keep him firmly fixed in place.
“How are things back in London after you have wasted over a year gallivanting all over the world? You must stay and regale us with all of your adventures. I am sure we are all terrible interested to hear what you have been up to for the past year.”
“I just want a drink…”
But Graham was not about to let Christopher out of his sights. Not when he had an audience who he needed to amuse by any means possible. He gripped on to his shoulders, making sure his dominance shone through. As if it was not enough for him to be the older brother with all the trimmings. Now he had to flash that around by making Christopher look bad too.
