Page 23 of One Night of Scandal
That was another reason she resisted marriage. When she’d accepted Edmund’s proposal, she’d done so in part because of who he was—the son of a prominent duke. In hindsight, a man of his rank was never going to be a good match for her.
“What if I don’t want to?” she asked quietly, glancing down at her lap before looking back at her grandmother.
Grandmama’s eyes widened. “Do you have a…tendre for the MP?”
“No!” She answered quickly and vehemently. “I only meant, what if I consider marriage, as you suggested,”demandedwas a more accurate description, “and actually find someone I might like to wed, and he doesn’t have a title?”
“I suppose that depends on who he is. If he’s a blacksmith, absolutely not. Your brother might keep company with such people at histavern, but you shall not.” If only Grandmama knew, Viola thought as the dowager continued, “An MPmightbe acceptable.”
Well, that was good to know. As well as pointless. Because no matter how badly her grandmother wanted her to marry, Viola wanted even more fiercely to remain unwed.
Chapter 7
Were unmarried women allowed to wear that color? Jack couldn’t help but stare—covertly—at Lady Viola garbed in a vivid puce gown that bordered on red. It was an astonishing color that drew the eye, and the woman wearing it kept the onlooker’s attention. With her honey-blonde hair dressed in an elegant coiffure and her form perfectly draped in the gown that accentuated the slender angle of her shoulder and the swell of her bosom, she was a vision of feminine loveliness, a far cry from Tavistock.
“Evening, Barrett. Don’t usually see you at a ball.”
Jack turned to see his friend Adam Chamberlain, a former MP from Lancashire who now sat in the House of Lords as the Viscount Whitworth. “Not usually, no. How are you, Whitworth?”
“Excellent, thank you. On the hunt for a viscountess this Season.”
“Glad I don’t have to worry about begetting an heir,” Jack said with a grin.
“Oh, but there’s fun in trying, isn’t there?” Whitworth chortled. He squinted toward the other side of the ballroom. “Who is that beauty in the puce gown?”
“Lady Viola Fairfax, I believe.”
Whitworth winced, his mouth pulling into a grimace. “Never mind that, then.”
Jack turned to stare at the man, outrage rising in his chest. “What do you mean?”
“She’s not someone I’d consider. I’d have to expect she’d abandon me on our wedding day just as she did poor Ledbury.”
She’d been betrothed to the Earl of Ledbury? How had Jack not known this?
Because you don’t give a fig about Society and their nonsense. The better question is why would you have known?
“I’m sure she had good reason not to marry him,” Jack said, despite not having the slightest idea what that could be. He didn’t know Ledbury well, but he seemed a pleasant enough fellow, dedicated to his work in the House of Commons and charming to a fault.
Whitworth’s brows arched. “You know her?”
Damn. “Not well. I simply presume she had good reason. What lady would voluntarily put herself in the position of crying off unless she saw no other alternative?”
“I suppose.” Whitworth’s shrug and skeptical gaze said the opposite, but thankfully, another gentleman approached, and the conversation died a well-deserved death.
Jack excused himself a moment later and gradually made his way to the corner where Lady Viola stood speaking with another woman. He bowed to them when he arrived. “Good evening.”
Lady Viola eyed him with surprise. “Good evening, Mr. Barrett. Allow me to present my sister-in-law, Her Grace, the Duchess of Eastleigh.”
“I’m pleased to make your acquaintance, Your Grace.” Jack inclined his head toward the tall beauty.
“As I am, Mr. Barrett. We met very briefly about a decade ago at Oxford. My father was warden of Merton College. ”
Jack’s jaw dropped for a moment. “I’m very pleased to make your acquaintance. Your father was brilliant.”
Light swaths of pink washed her cheeks. “Thank you. I think so too.”
Now that he’d formally made her acquaintance, Jack recalled Eastleigh mentioning that they’d met at Oxford. He really needed not only to pay more attention to social information—he needed to remember it. Particularly when it concerned his friends.
