Page 9 of The Duke Meets His Match

Chapter 3

George stared at his appearancein the mirror. “Evans,” he said to his valetwhile moving his face from side to side. “Something seems off, but I can’t putmy finger on it. Perhaps a different waistcoat?” The one he was wearing was a deep burgundy brocade, which ladies had frequently mentioned brought out thehighlights of his hair. Vain thought.

“The waistcoat is fine and is one of your favorites,” Evans replied while straightening George’s dressing room.

“Hmm,” George muttered. He squinted in the mirror. “Perhaps it’s the knot in my neckcloth, then.”

“The knot is fine; the waistcoat is fine.”

Blast the man. If Evans weren’t Evans, he would give him the sack for his impudence. He brushed a bit of lint from his shoulder and studied his appearance again. “Nonetheless, something feels wrong.”

Evans finally looked up from his puttering. “Perhaps it’s your smile, Your Grace.”

“I’m not smiling,” George said.

“Precisely,” Evans said.

George huffed out a breath as Evans's words struck home. “Once again, you have hit the nail on the proverbial head. I am loath to attend Lady Bledsoe’s ball this evening. Were she not my mother’s particular friend—having told me so on more occasions than I care to count—I would remain at home and do something more pleasant. Certainly,anythingwould be more pleasant than dancing with the latest crop of young ladies making their come-outs. I have tried, Evans. Heaven knows I’ve tried. But how on earth is one to have a conversation with a younglady when she is gaping at one in awe—or wishes to speak only of fashion orwho said what to whom.” It was bad enough that no matter what event Georgeattended, or had ever attended, for that matter, the room went silent when hearrived, the crowds seemed to part like the Red Sea, and he could very nearly hear the meddling mamas’ conspiratorial words being whispered behind their fans.

“I take it there isn’t a particular young lady who has caught your fancy this Season,” Evans said, putting George’s comb and brush in the vanity and shutting the drawer. “Once again.”

“No. I even made an appearance at Almack’s, if you can imagine.” George waited for Evans’s reaction. The man knew George’s feelings about Almack’s.

Evans said nothing.

“Blastit all, Evans, I discovered this week that my heir’s acriminal,transportedto Australia. I cannot bear the idea of leaving the dukedom in such a person’s hands. And so, I have been diligently looking for a wife as a result.”

“Haveyou, Your Grace?”

Insolence. Nothing but insolence from Evans. “I could only bear Almack’s for an hour, I’ll admit.Almostan hour.” George shrugged. “I ventured to dance with a young lady or two—”

“Well done of you, Your Grace—”

“I haven’t asked for a second dance from any of them. At Almack’s or elsewhere.”He was certain all it would take was a second dance or a gentlemanlykiss on a gloved hand for all and sundry to begin announcing his imminentbetrothal to whomever the theoretical young lady happened to be.

“The Season is still in its early days, and I hear that dignitaries from all over the Continent will be arriving in Town at any moment. Perhaps your lady wife will be among them.”

“I highly doubt it, if history bears itself out. Pray, then, Evans, for my increasing and continued good health.” He turned away from the mirror. “I am off to Lady Bledsoe’s ball. No doubt you shall see me sooner rather than later this evening.”

“Try to have a good time, Your Grace,” Evans said.

George only grunted in reply.

Bentley had already arrived with the carriage when George exited the house and stood by the carriage door, waiting to assist him inside.

“Thank you, Bentley,” George said, allowing the assistance, even though hedidn’t need it. Bentley was another servant who’d been around since George’sfather’s day.

George gave him direction, and they were off.

Lady Bledsoe’s infernal ball awaited.

***

“I expected you to be tired, my dear, and ItoldLady Bledsoe that very thing,” Lady Walmsley told Susan as they awaited the return of James, who’d gone to the lodgings he’d previously arranged for during his stay in Town.

“I am a little tired but not so much that you should be concerned,” Susan said, tugging on her evening glove to straighten the seam a bit.

“Idohate to let Lady Bledsoe down—she’ssucha dear friend,” Lady Walmsleycontinued. “Even so, you aremostaccommodating, Miss Jennings. I told LadyBledsoe firmly that I would bow to the wishes of my guests.Guest, as it turns out.”

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