Page 7 of The Scarred Duchess Deal
On the night of the ball, Leo instantly regretted his choice to attend the moment he walked through the door. He had not accounted for the sheer number of people that would be in attendance. Conversation and music so boisterous and gay spilled through the very walls of the venue and out into the night air. He had heard the frivolity the moment his carriage pulled to a stop. He was of half a mind to simply tell his driver to take him back home again, but then he might never find Mortimer. That was the whole point, after all. Perhaps he would add interest to that total sum of money. Then, if he had to be pawed at by hopeful women, it would be evenmoreworth it. Or so he thought outside.
“No amount of money is worth this,” he whispered to himself as he stepped into the ball. The moment he was announced, eyes were on him. He couldfeelthe mothers attempting to pick him apart with their eyes so that they might figure out what his likes and dislikes were. They would do or say anything to make their daughters appear as the woman of his dreams. Then, when he was trapped in a marriage with them, such women would reveal their true selves.
No. It mattered not if they thought him rude or impertinent, not really. He would simply remind them all he was not interested until they passed the rumor around that he was unpleasant. Would that be enough? Perhaps if he were not a duke it would be enough–
Where to start? He had hardly gotten a proper glance at the room from the stairs as he walked in. His eyes narrowed as he searched for the tall, thin frame that was Mortimer. He presumed he could not have changedthatmuch in the span of only four years.
“Pardon me, Your Grace.” A soft female voice came from behind him.
Leo sighed and allowed his eyes to close for a moment as he collected himself before turning to face the young woman addressing him. She was young, likely in her first Season still. She had a youthful look of innocence on her features and she held her dance card up to him perfunctorily. It was not her fault that her mother was poised behind her, forcing her to boldly address a gentleman instead of waiting for him to come to her as she was supposed to do.
Despite his resolve to be unpleasant, he could not bring himself to be rude to her. Being so would be effective in deterring others, he knew, but how could he punish her for something that was not her fault? Injuring her pride when she was already nervous would only make her cry. He hated seeing women cry, so he tried to avoid the situation in the first place.
“Good evening,” Leo answered with a nod of his head. The girl in front of him curtsied properly in response.
“I had hoped that perhaps… my mama, you see–” The girl struggled to form words and her eyes were downcast.
“Let me stop you, dear girl.” Leo knew good and well that his actions were bound to be misinterpreted but he hooked a finger under her chin to lift her gaze from the floor for a moment before she quickly dropped it again. “Were I here to dance, I would be only too happy to oblige someone so pretty as yourself. But unfortunately, I am here on very strict business and will not be able to dance this evening. I admire your tenacity though.”
The girl lifted her eyes demurely and smiled prettily and he hoped he had softened the blow of rejection at least enough not to sour her evening.
She nodded once more and retreated to her mother to tell her his reasoning. Her mother would see right through his comment, but it did not matter. Perhaps if he was truly lucky then he might even have the small reprieve of the room gossiping about how he has no intentions to dance this evening. That would be something that would work in his favor, in fact.
“Your Grace!” another woman called, older this time.
He would never find Mortimer if this was what he was forced to spend his evening doing. It simply would not work at all. It was entirely overwhelming.
“I beg your pardon, Your Grace?” came from another side.
He could see them closing in on him from all directions. Drat. Without thought of the consequences, he weaved his way through the crowd as he headed toward the nearest exit. He did not stop until he found a way out of doors entirely.
The cool evening air held floral notes as he managed to find his way to the gardens.
“Perhaps this was all a mistake,” he whispered to himself as he scrubbed his hands down his face in frustration. He would simply have to call on Mortimer in his home whether the man liked it or not; it would be worth it to spare himself the assault from the mothers of theton.
A soft noise from behind him gave him a fright and he spun quickly in place. “Hello?” he whispered loudly to the darkness of the gardens. “Is there someone out here?”
ChapterFive
“The first ball of the Season! I can hardly contain my excitement!” Sophie exclaimed as she practically bounced in her carriage seat. She tapped her closed fan against her thigh every couple of seconds to show just how excited she was.
Tessa could not help but wonder what Sophie might be like were she not to feel as if every passing moment was a performance. Tessa had been raised in relatively close proximity to her cousin her entire life and did not know if there had ever been a single time that she had witnessed Sophie in a moment of genuine emotion.
Her anger, perhaps. Tessa had to assume that it was Sophie’s temper that allowed her to show most of her true self. Sophie wielded her anger and sharp tongue like weapons in order to get her way. It was the entire reason that Tessa was currently seated in the carriage at all. Her uncle, Theodore, had explained to her at great length that it would be selfish and unkind to keep Sophie from the things that she wished. He had explained to her that because she was afforded more opportunities than her cousin that perhaps she took them for granted when Sophie, in fact, cherished them.
He had also proclaimed that Sophie did not mean the things that she said in anger; Tessa had struggled to keep from laughing in his face that time. Were she a lesser woman or were her morals slightly more vindictive, she would have explained to her uncle the true reason that Sophie wished to attend the ball. Certainly, her uncle would not be pleased to hear of his daughter’s plot to trap whichever gentleman she found most appealing, much less the methods that Sophie planned to utilize.
“I am certain that I shall fill my dance card right away! I will spend the whole evening dancing until my feet feel as if they are going to slip from my legs. But, do not worry–”
“I was not going to,” Tessa muttered under her breath as commentary. Sophie cut her a cruel look and simply continued on with her story.
“I shall not show that my feet hurt. I will be light, and graceful, and I will force every gentleman in the room to positively fall in love with me. I expect that we shall need a great deal of tea and biscuits tomorrow in the sitting room, Mama, as I am certain to have a bevy of gentleman callers to have my choice from!”
The carriage slowed in front of the venue.
“All of them?” Tessa remarked with faux shock. “How impressive you are.”
“Hmm. I did not think that was possible,” Sophie remarked as her mother was assisted from the carriage.
