Page 59 of Not his Marchioness
The Duke of Windsor turned. “Ravenscar! You have spotted me. I see you saw right through my cunning disguise.”
Rhys paused for a moment, unsure how to explain how he had known it was him without referencing the gout, a sensitive topic amongst high society.
“You were given away,” Charlotte interjected. “We heard someone say that the Duke of Windsor is the only chimney sweep here this evening.”
The Duke snapped his fingers. “Drat! You would not know which traitor has given me away, would you?”
She smiled. “I could only say that it was a gentleman, but which one, I could not tell.”
“Well,” he said, “that is a shame. I shall have to live with the betrayal for the rest of my life.”
They conversed for several more minutes, and Rhys was impressed with how easily Charlotte spoke to the Duke, as though she had been born for this.
The Duke eventually turned and left them to their own devices.
The two stood on the edge of the ballroom for a moment, before Charlotte rose on her tiptoes to whisper something in Rhys’s ear. “I think he was thoroughly charmed. I dare say that after this, your business ventures will be safe.”
“I should hope so,” he whispered back. “That is, after all, one of the reasons why we’re doing this. Now, over yonder is Viscount Barley. He and I are in business together.”
“I wonder if his real title is Lord Barley-Fields?” she asked with a chuckle.
He rolled his eyes. “You think yourself exceedingly clever. I am certain this is the first time anyone has jested about the poor man’s name.”
She raised her hands placatingly. “I will not insult his good name again.”
“We are fortunate to have a name that is both interesting and evocative.”
“Ravenscar? Evocative?” she scoffed.
He widened his eyes. “Do not tell me you have never thought it an ideal name for a character in a Gothic novel.Ravenscar scaled the outer wall and leaped into the courtyard, dashing forth toward the beautiful maiden Rosemary.”
The laugh that escaped Charlotte’s lips sounded genuine, as though she was truly amused by what he had said.
“Now that you mention it in such a manner, it does sound evocative. Although it makes me rethink naming my school after us. The Ravenscar School for…”
“The Unfortunate?” he suggested.
She looked up at him, her face darkening. “I do not wish to call it that. It seems unkind to those souls that would attend it.”
“Why not simply call it the Ravenscar School? No need for all the additional fluff and flutter.”
Charlotte pondered that for a moment, then nodded. “I shall mention it to Lady Woodhaven and see what she thinks.”
“Is it your school, or do you need to ask her permission for every single decision you make?”
She bristled. “Yes, but it is her support I must count on. So if asking her opinion will make her more positively inclined to the things I wish to do, then that is what I shall do. Is that not what you do? Is that not what we are doing here?” she asked.
Rhys paused for a moment, realizing that she was right. They were here at this ball because he wanted his business partners to see something specific. He wanted them to see that he was reformed. That he was a respectable husband with a respectable wife. It was why they got married, after all.
He shrugged. “I suppose we ought to dance.”
“I have never been asked in such a well-articulated manner to dance before,” she said.
He offered his hand. “Let us go,” he said, ignoring her remark.
Together, they joined the rows of dancers that were presently beginning one of the country dances.
As they stood, Rhys realized that he hadn’t let go of her hand, even though none of the other pairs were presently holding hands in anticipation of the dance.
