Page 74 of His Scarred Duchess
As Isabella launched into an animated account of her recent social engagements, Adeline felt a pang of nostalgia for their closeness.
She was so engrossed in their conversation that she didn’t notice Lord Brenton approach, until his stern voice cut through their chatter.
“Isabella, my dear, you shouldn’t take up too much of your sister’s time.”
Isabella’s eyes flashed with annoyance. “Papa, I have every right to speak with Adeline. She’s my sister, for heaven’s sake.”
Lord Brenton’s face darkened, but before he could respond, a young man approached their group.
“Pardon me,” he said, his voice pleasant and his manner courteous. “I couldn’t help but overhear. I hope I’m not interrupting, but I wondered if I might join your conversation? I’m Lord Pembrook.”
Adeline watched with interest as Isabella’s expression brightened. “Of course, Lord Pembrook. We’d be delighted. Thisis my sister, the Duchess of Holbrook, and my father, the Earl of Brenton.”
To Adeline’s surprise and relief, Lord Pembrook greeted her with genuine warmth, his eyes meeting hers without a trace of the usual discomfort or pity she’d grown accustomed to.
“Your Grace, it’s an honor to meet you,” he said, bowing slightly. “I’ve heard wonderful things about the agricultural innovations at Holbrook. I don’t suppose you’d mind sharing some insights? My own estate could use some modernizing, I’m afraid.”
Adeline found herself drawn into a pleasant conversation about crop rotation and soil management, with Isabella and even Lord Brenton chiming in occasionally. It was a refreshing change from the usual stilted small talk she endured at such events.
As the music for the next dance began, Lord Pembrook turned to Isabella with a smile. “Lady Isabella, might I have the honor of this dance?”
Isabella glanced at Adeline, who nodded encouragingly. With a delighted smile, Isabella accepted Lord Pembrook’s arm and allowed him to escort her to the dance floor.
Left alone with their father, Adeline felt the awkwardness descend like a heavy curtain.
Lord Brenton cleared his throat, clearly struggling to find something to say. “Well, Adeline, you seem happy. The Duke is treating you well, I hope?”
Adeline sighed, suddenly weary of the pretense. “Father, please. You needn’t force yourself to make conversation with me. I know you find it… difficult.”
Lord Brenton’s brow furrowed. “I beg your pardon? That’s a rather impertinent thing to say, Adeline. I am merely inquiring after your welfare, as any father would.”
“Are you?” Adeline asked, unable to keep a hint of bitterness from her voice. “Or are you simply fulfilling your social obligation to acknowledge your less-favored daughter?”
Lord Brenton’s face flushed with anger. “Now see here, Adeline?—”
But before he could continue, a familiar voice interrupted their brewing argument.
“Ah, there you are, my dear!” Lady Gillingham swooped in, looping her arm through Adeline’s. “I’ve been looking everywhere for you. You simply must come and meet Lady Pershing she’s just returned from the Continent and has the most fascinating stories to tell.”
With a grateful smile at her grandmother, Adeline allowed herself to be led away. As they moved through the crowd, Lady Gillingham gave her arm a comforting squeeze.
“I saw that conversation taking a turn for the worse,” she admitted softly. “Are you all right, my dear?”
Adeline took a deep breath, willing away the tears that threatened to fall. “I’m fine, Grandmama. Thank you for the timely rescue.”
Lady Gillingham’s eyes twinkled with understanding. “What are grandmothers for, if not to swoop in and save the day? Now, let’s find you a glass of champagne and some pleasant company. This is a ball, after all—you should be enjoying yourself!”
As they made their way to a group of chattering ladies, Adeline felt some of the tension leave her shoulders. As Lady Gillingham guided her away from the crowd, she gave her arm a gentle squeeze.
“Come, my dear. Let’s take a turn about the room. Some fresh air and movement will do you good.”
Adeline nodded gratefully, allowing her grandmother to lead her towards the less crowded edges of the ballroom. As they walked, she felt some of the tension from her encounter with her father begin to ease.
“Now then,” Lady Gillingham said, her voice low and conspiratorial, “tell me truthfully, Adeline. How are you faring? And don’t give me any of that ‘I’m fine’ nonsense. I want to hear the real story.”
Adeline could tell her grandmother wasn’t going to let this go, despite having seen her and Edmund together during their earlier visit. Lady Gillingham still wanted to hear it in Adeline’s own words.
Adeline couldn’t help but smile at her grandmother’s directness. She took a moment to gather her thoughts, considering how to answer.
