Page 21 of A Deal with the Duke of Ice

The Dowager walked into the room to face Benedict. Her eyes were narrowed and her arms folded.

“Ishall assume,” she said with a sigh, “That your meeting with Miss Atwood didn’t go particularly well.”

Benedict closed his eyes. He did not want to have this discussion now. The mortification was too raw, to say nothing of how angry he felt. He had a feeling that if he told the whole story now, he would end up throwing something valuable and breakable at a wall.

He imagined how hurt and angry his grandmother would feel. She was a classically deluded parental figure, believing that both Benedict and Joshua were perfect. Any slight to them was a slight to her. He imagined her storming over to her writing desk to scribble off nasty letters to the Atwood family and the Wyre family. The whole thing would be a horrible mess.

Benedict simply didn’t have the energy.

“No.” he said. “It did not go well. I shan’t be seeing her again, I don’t think.”

The Dowager’s shoulders slumped. She sat heavily in the chair opposite Benedict, Joshua’s favorite seat.

“Well, that’s a pity. Just as I was beginning to have hope.”

So was I,Benedict thought wryly.

“Well,” she continued, “Let’s not waste any time.”

“Ibeg your pardon?”

“Ibelieve Lady Joan Fairfax is next on the list. She’s a remarkable young lady. Notverypretty but looks are certainly not everything. She is accomplished, well-travelled, and is very intelligent. I shall arrange for you to meet her tomorrow. Not Dainty’s, I think. I don’t want that gossipy proprietor to know how many ladies you’re meeting there.”

“Grandmother, I’d rather not.”

“We’ve had this discussion, Benedict, haven’t we? You agreed to try my list of ladies.”

Benedict sighed, raking a hand through his hair. He was not in the mood to meet another lady. But then, hehadpromised.

Perhaps Lady Joan would be an interesting woman. Well-travelled, intelligent, and accomplished was certainly a promising start.

“Alright, Grandmother. If you insist.”

She broke into a smile. “Oh, I do insist.”

The Dowager had chosen yet another tea shop, one with a French name and delicious pastries on offer. Lady Joan was remarkably punctual, turning up at two o’ clock on the dot, exactly as Benedict arrived.

He might even have thought it was planned.

She was no Society beauty. Lady Joan had thin reddish hair that refused to curl, and she had made the unfortunate decision to pair her red hair with a pink dress. She had a large forehead, a profusion of freckles, and pale grey eyes.

She did not smile, not even once. She showed no sign of the diffidence or coyness that put Benedict off the other ladies, but as soon as she learned that Benedict did not read Greek or Latin, and had no interest in Parisian art, Literature, Geography, Mathematics, or Astronomy, her expression glazed over.

She was a reserved woman, and unfortunately, Benedict wasn’t given to idle chatter either. So, they relapsed into silence.

“This isn’t going well, is it?” Lady Joan said, after a horribly long pause. Her poor maid looked incredibly uncomfortable.

“No, it’s not.” Benedict answered reflectively. “But I do appreciate your frankness, Lady Joan.”

The corners of her mouth twitched in something that could have been called a smile.

“Then you are a rare man indeed. You ought to see the horror on some gentlemen’s faces when I talk about my studies.”

“Icertainly hope you avoid such dull, insipid specimens.”

She sipped her tea. “I try. I shall be honest with you, Your Grace. I am not just looking for a man who willpermitme to continue my studies. I want a husband who can share in those studies.”

Benedict nodded. “An admirable goal. I will follow your example of frankness and admit that I have no intention of engaging in deep academic study. I’m a more practical man, and I only care to learn what will help me enjoy a good novel and run my estate.”

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