Page 13 of The Duke of Scandal

Harriet could not speak for a moment. Then, she recovered her wits. In her irritation at her own silliness, she withdrew her hand from his, feeling bereft at being deprived of his touch. As she opened her mouth to speak, a woman came hurrying down the staircase. She had a lined, heart-shaped face with sandy-colored hair. For a moment, she looked about the room from the vantage of the stairs, then her eyes alighted on Edward.

“Edward, I simply must speak to you for a moment,” she said, just as Harriet spoke her name.

It was lost in the moment, Edward’s attention shifting to the newcomer.

“Olivia, we are entertaining…is it…” he paused, then said, “where is Rebecca? I have not seen her this evening so far.”

The woman descended the rest of the stairs and walked over to where Harriet and Edward stood. Harriet was glanced at briefly and then clearly dismissed. She turned her full attention on Edward.

“That is what I must discuss with you, in private if you please.”

Edward frowned, then turned to Harriet once more. He looked distracted.

“Miss…um…I’m terribly sorry but I did not hear your name at all, but if you will excuse me. It seems there is a matter requiring my attention. I do apologize.”

He bowed to her and then swept away, the woman he had called Olivia in tow. Harriet was left alone. She felt silly, speaking her name and being ignored. Eleanor had gentlemen hanging on her every word, but Harriet stood alone. She felt frustrated that this kind of social mixing did not come as easily to her as it did to her cousin. So much depended on her skill in this area. Perhaps Eleanor’s charms would net a husband who would save Erdington. Perhaps, Harriet would grow old as a spinster, never having had to marry.

“Was that the Duke himself? Our host?” Eleanor asked.

CHAPTER 8

Harriet turned to her wondering how long she had been listening.

“Yes, it was. I was admiring the armor and he introduced himself.”

“But did not reciprocate with your own name? I heard.”

“I gave him my name but not my family name.”

Eleanor raised an eyebrow. “Indeed? Do you consider yourself to be on first name terms with the Duke, then?”

“I was taken by surprise,” Harriet replied with chagrin.

She felt foolish, having failed so completely to adhere to the rules of social engagement that presided over her class. Eleanor, of course, was an expert. She navigated ballrooms and drawing rooms with the ease of one who was born to it. But, the branch of the Worthingham family that she and Simon came from was actually significantly lower in rank than Harriet’s own. Such things were unimportant to Harriet but not to Eleanor.

Even Simon is too sensible to care about such things. But Eleanor wishes to prove herself my superior. Her brother has my father’s title and house. She wishes to prove herself of a superior rank in her social affairs.

“Well, perhaps it is well that the Duke was required elsewhere. If you are so easily flustered by his presence, I would not like to think that our connection to the Bolton family would suffer because of your…inexperience,” Eleanor said archly.

“Would you rather that you were the one to introduce the Worthinghams to the Duke?” Harriet asked.

She felt a stab of envy as she looked at her cousin. Eleanor was stunningly beautiful, resplendent in her dress and jewelry. Of course the Duke would prefer her conversation and company over Harriet’s.

And yet, he sought me out after seeing me standing alone. Was that the duty of a good host, looking out for those in his company who did not appear to be enjoying themselves?

The idea that if Edward re-appeared, Harriet would be cast into the shadow of her cousin made her want to weep. It seemed so unfair. She had never felt jealous of her cousin before, nor any woman for that matter. She did not want to feel jealousy now, but it was there, nonetheless.

“Indeed. I would show our family at its best. And the Duke is an eligible bachelor,” Eleanor said with a gleam in her eye.

Simon appeared from the crowd, a young man in the uniform of the Guards accompanying him.

“The dancing is about to start, Eleanor. Captain Bingham here has requested the first dance with you. He is the son of the Earl of Westross. Harriet, would you do me the honor of allowing me the first dance with you?”

Eleanor smiled, flashing dimples and sparkling eyes at the young lordling. Simon offered his arm to Harriet who smiled and put her own through his.

“Of course, cousin. It would be my pleasure.,” Harriet said.

“I was looking for you earlier, cousin,” Simon said to her as Eleanor and the Captain walked beyond them. “One moment, you were at my side and the next, gone.”

---