Page 68 of Dancing with an Enigmatic Duke
Nash’s eyebrows rose in surprise at the Dowager’s words. “I did not take him for one of those.”
“Youth gets the best of people sometimes,” Lord Grayson said amicably. “As long as he does the honourable thing, it should work out fine. It is a shame that your niece’s debut was tarnished by it.”
Nash nodded at Lord Grayson’s words. “That is true. She seemed a lovely girl.”
“Your kind regards are appreciated, Your Grace. I warned her not to show too much deference to any one young man so early on, but as Lord Grayson says, youth gets the best of us all.” Dowager Randall shook her head and said, “But that is not at all that I came here to say. I wanted to give you my congratulations, Your Grace. Lady Callum is a wonderful woman and I think she suits you quite well.”
Nash dipped his head in acceptance. “Thank you, Dowager Randall.”
“I suppose I should collect my charge. I left her with Lady Callum and the other young ladies.” Dowager Randall gave them a subtle inclination of her head, as a woman of her age sometimes did, and she set off to find her wayward niece.
Lord Grayson whispered, “That woman could frighten a frazzled bear.”
Nash bit down on the laugh that fought to escape. Dowager Randall seemed to evoke the same emotion in all men, it would seem. Her late husband must have been a formidable man. “Is she really so bad?”
“I once asked if she were related to the merchant family by the same name,” Lord Grayson said. “I will never make that mistake again.”
This time Nash did not try to staunch the flow of his laughter. “I have been tempted a time or two myself to ask about a connection. I am glad you made that mistake for both of us.”
“Ah, I have you in my debt then,” Lord Grayson replied.
Nash shrugged and accepted the debt that he now owed the card-loving lord. If you had to owe a debt to someone, Lord Grayson was not a bad sort. He was in too good a mood to argue the finer points.
Nash was grateful that at least for tonight he would not have to deal with his parents. This party was merely for Harcourt to announce the engagement to friends and family. He had not even given much thought to what the party his mother was planning was going to be like, as he had not expected it to actually take place.
Lord Grayson patted him on the back as he shoved a drink into his hand. “I say, the look on your face is most dire. Realising that engagements end in marriage, are you?”
“Do they?” Nash asked with feigned surprise. “No one said anything about that.”
Lord Grayson slapped Nash’s shoulder with a resounding thud in place of the gentle pats from earlier. Nash wondered if the man realised how hard he was hitting him, but he grinned and bore the man’s clubbing as he drank his punch.
Several lords and ladies came by to give their enthusiastic congratulations and well wishes. The only issue Nash had was that every time someone new showed up, Lord Grayson insisted on a toast. As the hour wore on he thought that perhaps the man was a bit deep in his cups. Then again, perhaps Nash himself was a bit deep in his cups too.
Harcourt rescued him finally. As they made their escape, Harcourt whispered, “Wanted you to still be able to speak English and stand upright. It would not look good for Lord Torrington to be falling down drunk at his own engagement party.”
“Well played,” Nash agreed as he could think of nothing else to say. Harcourt steered him toward a quiet corner and ordered a maid to bring them a pot of coffee.
Harcourt and Nash relaxed in overstuffed chairs and watched the bustling celebration go on around them. Lady Callum was still making the rounds of groups of ladies, her cheeks slightly pink.
Nash thanked the maid profusely when she brought the coffee pot and tray. Harcourt did not even try to hide the smirk on his face as the maid looked thoroughly confused as to why Nash was so grateful. After she left, Harcourt laughed. “It is a good thing that my staff are not prone to gossip.”
“I truly do like coffee, even if it is a bitter drink,” Nash replied, sipping the warm beverage to which he had added a good dollop of cream.
Harcourt’s face screwed up in disgust. “I doubt anything could be bitter with that much cream slathered into it.”
“From a man who takes his tea with no sugar, I do not take any insult from your words. You cannot judge what you do not understand.” Nash took another sip of his coffee and looked pointedly away from Harcourt.
Lady Callum appeared as if she had been waiting nearby to surprise them. Nash thought this entirely plausible as he could have sworn she was just across the room. Surely the woman had to be a magical creature. Perhaps that Greek goddess bit was not entirely without merit.
“What are you two doing cloistered over here?” She looked down upon them with a touch of judgment and a good dose of amusement.
Harcourt confided, “Your betrothed tried to drink the punch bowl dry.”
Nash protested, “I hardly had anything to do with it. It was Lord Grayson who kept filling my cup with endless toasts.”
“I am sure he had the best of intentions,” Lady Callum said in a soothing tone. Nash had to admit that when she said the words, they sounded reasonable. He could forgive Lord Grayson, after all.
Harcourt grinned. “We shall have him sorted soon. A bit of the bitter will get him right back in his boots.”
