Page 9 of Dancing with an Enigmatic Duke
Nash held back a chuckle as Daniel tried his best to do as he was told. Nash walked through the door with a dip of his head at the young man. Inside the building, the butler beckoned Nash to follow him. “This way, if you will, Your Grace.”
The corridor demonstrated one thing to Nash, the marquess’s wife had been responsible for decorating. The soft hues and delicate scenes of flowers evoked springtime. At the door of the conservatory, Nash waited while the butler stepped inside to introduce him.
Nash entered and gave the marquess an incline of his head. “Lord Daventry, it is a pleasure to see you again.”
Lord Daventry rose to greet him and bobbed his head up and down. “Your Grace, it has been too long since our acquaintance was first made. Where has the time gone?”
“I imagine that we have both been delayed in our visits by matters of business.” Nash waved off a servant who came to take his coat. The weak sunlight that lit the conservatory did little to warm the room.
Lord Daventry cleared his throat and looked over at the door. “How remiss I am,” he lamented. “Allow me to introduce my daughter, Lady Heaton.”
Nash had been expecting it and did not even show a flicker of surprise as he turned to find the young lady rather beautifully adorned, and not at all looking as though she had been taken aback at finding a nobleman with her father. Nash inclined his head to her politely as he waited on her father to finish the introduction.
Lord Daventry smiled broadly. “My darling daughter, allow me to introduce Lord Torrington.”
Ah, there it was, Nash mused in his head. The formal introduction had been made, and now he would be stuck giving deference to the woman every time they happened to cross paths. “Lady Heaton, it is lovely to make your acquaintance.” He kept his hands in front of him grasping the hat he had removed on the lady’s appearance, but made no move to reach out to the woman.
Lady Heaton curtseyed prettily enough, her eyes darting over to her father as if looking for approval. “As it is to meet you, Your Grace. I hope I am not intruding.”
“Not at all,” Nash said benevolently. “Your father and I had not yet got into the droll talk of business and trade.”
Lord Daventry slapped his hand on his knee. “Well, let us put that talk off a bit longer. Come let us partake of the lovely luncheon my cook has prepared. Shall you join us, Daughter?”
“If it does not offend, His Grace,” Lady Heaton said, as her eyes went over to Nash.
The hopeful gleam in the young lady’s eyes made him feel slightly ill, but he nodded with a smile. “I can see no offense to be had by your presence.”
Lord Daventry looked pleased as he ushered his daughter and Nash to the table, which was set with sliced meats, fruits and vegetables. Nash longed again for one of those juicy meat pies that Charles would no doubt be biting into even now. He put a smile firmly on his face as he set about enduring the company of the conniving father and daughter.
The young lady, for her part, seemed pleasant enough. But the situation put a bad taste in Nash’s mouth, which flavoured even the food with his dislike. The tea was of a bitterness that was probably more in Nash’s irritated mind than in reality. Perhaps he would be poisoned, he mused silently as he nodded at something Lord Daventry was saying.
“It really must be most stressful to be striking out to pursue new trade deals,” Lord Daventry said.
“I find it to be rather enjoyable.”
“You are not a man after me then. I prefer the desk to the open sea.”
“There is something to be said for both situations, but I find I miss travelling the waters. Plus, in my business, it pays to keep a close eye on far-flung holdings.” Nash took a sip of the tea that tasted sweeter now that the topic of marriage was not being thrown at him.
Lord Daventry slapped the table with his hand, which made his daughter flinch. “That is the truth. What with all these conflicts about, it is a wise man who keeps a keen eye out for signs of trouble.”
“We are not going to talk of war, are we?” Lady Heaton looked like she might just flee as she asked the question.
Lord Daventry chuckled and put his hand protectively over her hand on the table. “Do not fret. We shall steer away from such topics around you.” His eyes went over to Nash as if to seek his assistance.
“Of course,” Nash agreed. “Such things are not for the delicate.”
Lady Heaton looked visibly relieved at their words. “Thank you, Your Grace and Father. I fear that I am not much for such things.”
“As a lady should not be,” Lord Daventry assured her with a pat on her hand. He quickly turned his attention to the piece of thick bread that he was piling up with meat as he spoke to Nash. “How are ships faring, Your Grace?”
Nash shrugged lightly. “Well enough. We have not run into any major issues.” He glanced at the woman, who was nibbling at an early season strawberry. “What is it that you enjoy discussing, Lady Heaton?”
The young lady smiled at the direct attention from Nash. “I very much enjoy needlework and painting, Your Grace.”
“Those are fine hobbies,” Nash said with a nod of his head. He picked up a strawberry. “Where did you find strawberries so early in the season, Lord Daventry?”
The marquess grinned and leaned over the table as if to spread conspiracy. “I bring them from our country estate,” he whispered. “Our gardener is quite a genius when it comes to bringing the fruit early.”
