Page 38 of A Duchess Bound
Seldom seen. The Duke of Greenway was the exception. Dorothy wondered if he ached with desire as fervent as her own or if he had found other ladies to occupy his time, while he awaited her answer. Her chest tightened.
The thought that he might be occupying himself with other lovers sent a sharp sensation coursing through her. She could not expect a man like that to be faithful, especially to a woman who had not yet agreed to be his, but she found herself still hoping that he might be.
“Anyway,” Catherine said. “Enough talk of marriage. How is Elias? I have seen him far less than I have the two of you.”
“He is well,” Dorothy said. “Busy, as always.”
“I do not know how he finds the time to breathe,” Bridget added.
“He sounds like someone else we know,” Catherine said, sending Dorothy a sly glance. “I have heard that he is working on something for parliament.”
“He is,” Dorothy confirmed. “He wants to pass legislation requiring certain training for apothecaries.”
“Interesting.”
“He believes that it will make medicine safer,” Dorothy added. “It will ensure that remedies are prepared by individuals with the appropriate knowledge of herbs and medicine.”
“I hope he succeeds,” Catherine said.
Dorothy took a sip of tea. “Yes.”
Already, her thoughts were turning to His Grace. Maybe she should be a little less involved in Bridget’s search for a husband. Just alittleless. Dorothy would not withdraw her aid entirely, of course.
Just enough to have some time to herself, so she could pursue something which might make her very happy, indeed. It was only unfortunate that she would be unable to share the happiness she had found with her siblings. They would simply have to assume that she was doing something for herself.
CHAPTER 14
Lord Bryton’s ball was the most lavish affair of the Season thus far. By Gerard’s wry estimation, there was enough gold in the ballroom to feed the entire population of Britain for at least a decade.
Gold had been painted over the roses, which sat atop gilded columns. The tables laden with lemonade and other delicacies were sprinkled with delicate gold leaf, and three golden chandeliers decorated the space. Gerard was a man of expensive tastes who enjoyed extravagance, but this was simply tawdry.
Perhaps it was all the design of Lord Bryton’s wife, who was an American heiress. Lady Bryton was known for being a little unusual. Gerard’s eyes swept the ballroom, searching instinctively for Lady Dorothy. It was Saturday, and he wanted his answer.
He did not see her.
“Layton!” Pontoun waved at him from across the ballroom.
Gerard smiled. As he approached his friend, a shiver of unease curled inside his chest.
“Aside from him, you seem largely uninterested in having any attachments with men either. You have many acquaintances, and you enjoy the company of others. But you have so few friends of either sex.”
Lady Everleigh’s words echoed in his mind, as if they were some well-memorized Shakespearean sonnet. A better man might have taken her advice, but that man was not Gerard. Instead, he wondered if he had made a fatal error in letting Pontoun become so close to him.
Gerard’s instincts were at war with one another. On one hand, he thought that he might be able to stop being Pontoun’s friend. He could stop calling on the man and find convenient excuses not to see him. Gerard could occupy his attention instead with ladies, who asked nothing more of him than pleasure. That was the beauty of having lovers. They did not care if he was unmarried or an improper duke.
But he also found himselfwantingto enjoy Pontoun’s friendship. He was possibly the only person on earth with whom Gerard felt that he could be wholly honest.
“These decorations are something, aren’t they?” Pontoun asked, handing Gerard a flute of champagne.
“Indeed.”
Gerard emptied his glass in a single gulp, drawing a concerned look from his friend.
“Was it a difficult day? If so, I imagine you will need something stronger than champagne,” Pontoun said.
“Difficult week,” Gerard replied. “What about you?”
Pontoun shrugged. “I am still searching for my love-match, and I suppose that is it. I have made a handful of calls on Lady Agatha.”
