Page 49 of The English Duke
Martha only hoped Jordan was immune. He’d certainly ignored her from the moment she descended the stairs. It was as if the camaraderie they’d experienced for the whole day had vanished. Gone was the man who’d asked her questions, argued with her, and criticized her polishing only to reward her with a smile later.
He was not the man he’d been this afternoon. His face was set in stern lines. His gaze was flat as he surveyed the table.
Something was wrong.
Martha realized what it was a moment after studying him. Although he sat at the head of the table, he gripped the handle of his walking stick until his knuckles shone white. She knew, without him telling her, that he was in pain and doing everything in his power not to reveal it.
“Your Grace,” Josephine said, “have you given any thought to our conversation about Ercole?”
He slowly turned his head and looked at Josephine.
Was Josephine blind? Anyone could see he didn’t want to converse. She suspected that he was having a difficult enough time just sitting there.
“My compliments to your cook,” she interjected in the silence.
“Mrs. Madison comes from France,” Reese said, blessedly taking up the topic. “She’s English, but was married to a Frenchman.”
“While my mother was French, but was married to an Englishman,” Josephine said.
Everyone turned to look at her. She angled her head slightly—in a way that flattered her—and smiled.
“Dear Maman returned to France after dear Papa died. I don’t think she can bear to remain in the country with all its memories.”
Josephine had never called their father dear Papa. Nor did her sister mentionDear Maman’sletter and her gushing enthusiasm about her new suitor, a count with a château in the south of France.
Of course I’ll send for you when it’s time, my dear, she’d written to Josephine.
No doubt Marie thought to wheedle her daughter out of her share of the York fortune. What Marie didn’t know was that Josephine was as greedy as her mother.
Had Josephine truly lost her virginity a year ago? Or had she only made the comment to shock her? She’d certainly accomplished that aim. Did Gran know? Is that why they were here? To find Josephine a husband before she was embroiled in some sort of scandal?
Surely Josephine didn’t mean what she’d said earlier? This frozen-faced man was not ripe for seduction. Nor could she imagine the duke ignoring the fact that Josephine had called him lame. Or had her sister forgotten that? Did she think she could say anything just because she was beautiful?
“May I come to the boathouse tomorrow?” Josephine asked. “I promise to bring my own chair.”
The duke didn’t look at her. Nor did he answer. Instead, he was doing exactly as Josephine had hoped, drinking another glass of wine—his third. Was the man going to get sotted? That’s all she needed, for him to be drunk enough that Josephine’s plan might work.
As if he’d heard her thoughts, he turned to study Martha until she wanted to ask him to look away. His intent regard was embarrassing her, especially since the other two were joining the duke in staring at her.
Had some leek gotten caught in her teeth? Had she spilled some of her wine down her bodice? Was her abominable hair frizzing around her face?
She could feel her cheeks warm. She was not going to blush, not now. Not here, please God.
“Your brother was a talented painter,” Martha said, determined to direct his attention elsewhere.
When he didn’t say anything, she wondered if she’d committed a faux pas. Was the tenth duke not supposed to be mentioned?
“He was, wasn’t he?” Reese asked, rescuing her once more from the awkward silence. “He only painted scenes from Italian cities, however, which was probably understandable since he loved Italy so much.”
“Do you paint, Mr. Burthren?” she asked, grateful for his politeness.
“Me? I’m afraid not. I’ve no discernible talent in anything.”
“Don’t be fooled by his modesty, Miss York,” the duke unexpectedly said. “He’s one of the War Office’s rising stars.”
His words startled her. She’d corresponded briefly with several members of the War Office after her father’s death. They’d been interested in the York Torpedo Ship and had been disappointed in the news it didn’t work.
When dinner was over, she was surprised the men didn’t remain behind to smoke their cigarillos. Instead, the duke and Reese joined them in the Crystal Parlor.
