Page 23 of A Brilliant Match
This occupied her thoughts as they moved forward and she could not refrain from turning to Mr. Shaw. “I cannot understand how you managed to bring about an introduction when you yourself were not acquainted with Miss Stanley.”
He had the audacity to wink at her.Sparks.
“It is one of the skills I possess,” he said. “I am not overly troubled by etiquette, although I should hope I possess the basics of good manners. If I see the opportunity to further an acquaintance, I am obliged to take it. And in this case, furthering yours, for you have mentioned not having a great deal of acquaintances in London.”
Dorothea looked at him askance. She wasn’t sure if she liked being his social charity case. And yet, she had to appreciate his skill, since it allowed her to meet Miss Stanley.
“However,” he continued, leading them up a set of narrow steps that led to the second tier. He was obliged to drop his arms in order to let some others pass, and he waited until they reached the next level to continue. “I am somewhat in doubt of whether Miss Stanley will be a true friend to you.”
Dorothea stopped short and stared at him. “Why?”
He leveled his gaze on her. “She seemed to be interested in making your acquaintance only when she learned you were connected to the peerage.”
She left her eyes on him as she reflected on this bit of information, almost forgetting that Sophia was there. “But…isn’t that rather normal? Of course she would prefer to befriend someone who could potentially elevate her in Society.”
His return smile was inscrutable, and with a glance at Sophia, he ushered them forward to the entrance of their box, directing a questioning gaze as to which one. When they reached their number, he paused again and faced her. Dorothea was breathless from their proximity and his direct gaze.
“I think you underestimate your worth as a friend outside of your title,” he said. He allowed her to slip her hand from his arm, his gaze not leaving hers. Then he bowed and turned to leave.
The opera had already begun, and Sophia whispered from behind her as they entered the obscurity of the box, “He said the very thing I was thinking.”
Dorothea tightened her lips as she walked down the short aisle toward her seat. That was not a comment worth responding to.
She sat and allowed the darkness to surround her as she meditated on what Mr. Shaw had said. It was not so much what he said, but the fact that he had called her a friend. Surely, using such a word meant he did not intend to attempt a courtship. Goodness knew husbands and wives could not be friends. She convinced herself that his word choice was to send her a deliberate message about his intentions or lack thereof. She was glad it was so. Or…she ought to be glad.
But as the tragedy continued below, she realized that she was rather a bit disappointed.
* * *
During calling hours,Dorothea waited for visitors, this time with the support of both her mother and sister. She had learned to accept that making social calls was difficult for her mother, but that she was more than willing to receive them. Even Camilla had joined them, as there had been a gown already made at themodistethat allowed her to take her place alongside her mother and sisters.
No sooner were they in place than the sounds of the first visitors reached them, and Camilla sat up straight. It was her first presentation in London. Dorothea looked at her approvingly. Her sister had a tendency toward plumpness that made Dorothea fear she would never find a husband. But she looked very fine in a gown that fit her correctly. Sophia was ravishing as usual.
The door opened, and Dorothea looked up. It was not Turton as she’d expected, there to announce their guest. It was Everard. She frowned at him and gave a shake of the head as he walked into the room, his grin showing clearly he knew she would have something to say about his appearance in the drawing room. The problem was that he didn’t listen to any remonstrance she made.
“Everard,” she began, but she could say no more for their butler appeared in the doorway, followed by Miss Stanley and three gentlemen. All three were dressed in the modish attire of thetonand had youth on their side. The surprise caused Dorothea to momentarily forget about her brother and turn a smiling visage to their new visitors. This was a change, indeed. Three gentlemen!
“Miss Maryann Stanley, Lord Throckmorton, Mr. Weathering, and Mr. Pollard,” the butler announced. She recognized Mr. Weathering as the gentleman who had been in Mr. Shaw’s company outside of Gunter’s.
Dorothea curtsied and gestured at her side. “This is my mother, Lady Poole. These are my sisters, Lady Sophia and Lady Camilla, and—” She turned toward her brother, suddenly remembering his presence and her full displeasure at it. “And this is my brother, Lord Poole. Won’t you please sit?”
She glanced at the butler as she did so, knowing he would communicate to the servants to bring the tea tray. Miss Stanley had taken the seat closest to her, so she smiled at her as she resumed her own. Mr. Pollard, of an ordinary-looking countenance but fashionable, attempted to draw Sophia out in a painful process that bore little fruit. Miss Stanley struck up a lively conversation with Mr. Weathering on her left while Dorothea, her mother, and Camilla sat there as though struck dumb. Why couldn’t they be more interesting?
She looked across at Lord Throckmorton, the most promising of this morning’s visitors in appearance and in title, and he seemed to be assessing her curiously. She wondered what he thought of her. Did he find her pretty? Poised?
When she met his regard, he smiled and shifted in his chair, then turned to her brother who was seated beside him.
“Lord Poole, where do you attend school?” He placed his elbows on the armrests and steepled his fingers.
“Eton,” her brother vouchsafed.
“You keep your instructors busy, I imagine?” he said.
“I do my best, sir,” Evo replied, wearing a sapient expression, his twinkling eyes evident to Dorothea who was ready to strangle him. They must have been evident to Lord Throckmorton as well for he returned an answering grin.
“He has not yet been sent down from school, but we are every term in anticipation of it,” Camilla said placidly from the sofa next to their mother. Dorothea suffered a shock and glanced at her sister. She could almost accuse her of flirting, but Camilla did not have the capacity for such a thing. Was she truly in expectation of their brother being sent down?
As she knitted her brows, Lord Throckmorton tilted his head back and laughed, showing that he at least had not thought her serious. Camilla’s expression remained unchanged, so Dorothea could only assume she had been. Her sister would never secure a match by being dumb-witted.
