“I beg your pardon.” He tried a smile.
It did not work on Lady Wilton. “Peacocking about town,” the old lady muttered. “The handsomest man in thetonindeed.Pfft. A prancing coxcomb.”
“Never that!”
“It is yourdutyto find Ferrington, now that you are duke!”
James had never much cared for that word. His father had been fond of it, and applied it to all the most distasteful orders he gave. Now he resisted whenever he heard it. “Why? Who the dev… Who is this Ferrington fellow?”
His grandmother heaved a long-suffering sigh. “The new Earl of Ferrington is the son of my scapegrace grandson,” she said as if repeating a tale he should know. “We hauled him over here from America, and I assured him that I would train him up for his new position. Even though he was mannerless and ignorant. The next day, he’d disappeared.”
“Had he?” James thought he might like the fellow, even as he envied his ability to flee Lady Wilton. “Well, I’m sure he’ll return in his own time.”
“You mustbringhim back!”
“I don’t think I will do that, Grandmamma.”
She glared at him. “Our family is cursed with useless, selfish men,” she said.
But James was no longer listening. Prince Karl had escaped their hostess and joined the group around Cecelia. Once again, he was bending over her possessively. James ground his teeth.
“Prince Karl von Osterberg is making quite a splash in society,” said Lady Wilton.
James glanced at her. She’d followed the direction of his gaze.
“He seems to be very taken with Cecelia Vainsmede, does he not? Everyone is noticing.”
Damn them all, and the prince with them. James considered telling his grandmother that he had decided to marry Cecelia. Perhaps he could enlist her help? He tried to imagine what that might entail. So many people were afraid of Lady Wilton. What if she simplyorderedCecelia to marry him? The idea made him smile even as he recognized that Cecelia would not be commanded.
“Does that amuse you?” asked the object of his reflections.
He’d forgotten what she was talking about.
“Tereford?”
No, Grandmamma was more of a petty tyrant than an ally. She would want to manage him, and the choice of his duchess. Better to leave it. And her. “I must go,” he said.
“Where?”
“What?”
“Where must you go?”
He wasn’t prepared to explain the necessity of squelching Prince Karl. But just then a flurry of movement indicated that Cecelia and her friends were preparing to depart. James decided to cut his losses. He had to find a better way to court Cecelia than these wretched evening parties. He needed to get her alone. Helongedto get her alone and show her how very much she would enjoy being his duchess. “Home,” he said, rising to offer his grandmother a bow. “Good night, Grandmamma.” He walked off before she could try to stop him.
Six
But James found that he could scarcely get near Cecelia, and certainly not for any satisfying length of time. He was plagued by interruptions from a host of annoying other people. In past years, when it had been necessary to communicate about the trust, he’d often seen her in private. Too often, it had sometimes seemed, when they disagreed or her father was being particularly lethargic. After the trust was wound up, he’d thought he would be gladnotto see her. And yet he’d always been drawn to conversing or dancing with her when they were at the same gathering, he realized now. She’d been a bright spot in otherwise tedious events, a constant in his life. Now suddenly she was too busy to see him, with her talkative new friends and the appearance of this thrice-damned prince. He began to miss her. He had not expected that.
It was the most frustrating situation imaginable. Prince Karl’s attentions had caused other members of thetonto take more notice of Cecelia. She’d never been unpopular. She’d had an established place in society. But now she was, seemingly, inundated with invitations and attentions. If James saw her at a ball, she was besieged by eager partners. He could scarcely snag one dance. He was very nearly jostled to the floor during a rush to secure her hand for a waltz. And he’d lost out in that contest. How he’d wanted to flatten the wretched fellow who carried her off to dance!
If he sought her at a rout party, she was surrounded by annoying chatterers. His newly elevated status made no difference. They did not yield to him. Some seemed to make a point of cutting him out, in fact.
In the park, when Cecelia walked or rode, saunterers continually paused to have a word. One couldn’t speak two sentences without interruption. James invited her for a drive, thinking to have her to himself in a phaeton at least, and was told she had not a minute to spare for the next week.
Maddeningly, everywhere he went to find her, there was the prince. Pushing himself forward, insinuating himself into conversations where he wasn’t wanted. Prince Karl seemed to have an uncanny instinct for buttonholing Cecelia. James began to wonder if the German had spies roaming society drawing rooms, gathering intelligence about her movements. He certainly reveled in circumventing James. He turned Cecelia aside, stepped between them, diverted her attention. James was heartily sick of the man’s gloating smile.
As he was disgusted with the host of young gentlemen intrigued by their rivalry. James had heard the idiots talking. What two great matrimonial prizes wanted must be worth winning—such a feather in one’s cap! Dolts!