Page 53 of The Undaunted
“Ah,” the duke said, quietly laughing, “I see I am not so very good at guessing after all. I expect the duchess only flatters me, just as she does our butler’s weather predictions, which are almost always wrong. Sometimes astoundingly so.”
“Oh no, duke, I am sure you are very good with your guesses, but in this case…well, in this case you are mistaken. There is nothing at all between them.”
“I see,” the duke said good-naturedly. “In any event, I expect this dinner will be enough to educate the talkers on their mistakes. As a duke, I may not be skilled at guesses regarding matchmaking, as we’ve just seen, but it seems wherever I sit down is of some note and I am happy to use that privilege in your service.”
“I am most obliged, and obliged to Theodosia too. She is a stalwart friend.”
The duke smiled as he looked down the table at his wife at the right hand of Lord Easton. “She isverystalwart. Always has been.”
Clara nodded. As she had been talking to the duke for some time now and everybody would be waiting for her signal, she turned to Lord Heathway. Hoping to give herself a moment to think, she said, “Lord Heathway, Penelope tells me you have recently visited Barlow Hall. I understand it is very grand, do tell me of it.”
Lord Heathway was more than happy to extoll the many wonders of the hall, most of which passed out of Clara’s mind as quickly as it went into it.
Why had the duke been certain of a match between Caroline and Richard?
She surreptitiously glanced at her nephew. To her relief, he was finally talking to Lady Smithson, or rather,shewas talking to him.
He did not look his usual steady self though, and he kept glancing around as the lady chattered on.
It was not at all his usual behavior. Lady Smithson could sometimes be tedious, as she had an unfortunate habit of cataloguing her sewing projects. Or worse, talking about her grandchildren though they were only babies still.
It was hardly very interesting to hear that the youngest had said something that might have been close to mama, or perhaps it was baba. Lord Reston on her other side had probably just heard all about it, based on the eagerness with which he had turned to Lady Heathway. For all that, Richard never allowed his boredom to show to a lady at dinner.
Did his black eye pain him? She could not imagine what else it could be. Certainly, it had nothing to do with Caroline. She had the distinct impression that her nephew regarded Miss Upton as more of a nuisance than anything else.
Perhaps his dog was ill? He did so love that creature.
Clara could not consider the matter further—just as Lord Heathway was relaying how often he’d got lost in the long corridors of Barlow Hall, the footmen filed in with dessert. Bramley brought up the rear, carrying the sliced pineapple himself.
The whole spread was laid quickly and expertly and Clara was sure Bramley had rehearsed the operation with his footmen for it to come off so seamlessly.
She made some inane comment on the alleged charms of Barlow Hall, all the while keeping one ear open to hear the pineapple’s reception.
It was just as she hoped. Quiet gasps, whispered appreciation, the duchess was even heard to say, “Brava, Lady Easton.”
Clara casually turned to the duke, as if nothing at all unusual had just occurred.
The duke dabbed his napkin to his lips and said, “Ifthatdoesn’t stop the chattering, I do not know what will. Well done, Lady Easton.”
Clara nodded graciously. As she had hoped, it was a triumph.
Chapter Fourteen
It may justhave been the longest dinner of Caroline’s life. She had hoped that eating would restore her energy, but it had not. However, she could at least consider how well it had gone. Lady Easton was as pleased as Punch over it. Or perhaps it would be more accurate to say, pleased as pineapple over it.
The pineapple had indeed been a surprise, both welcome and unwelcome. Caroline had never tasted one before and it had been a revelation. She had not, prior to this moment, considered it very sensible to cart fruit across an ocean. Now, she understood why it was done.
Pineapple was both sweet and tangy, it had a certain pleasant bite on the tongue that was refreshing after a heavy meal, its texture was soft and yet not too soft. Examining it on her fork, she saw that the flesh was comprised of triangles and then within those, small ovals, each one a burst of flavor.
The crown of the fruit, which Bramley seemed to regard as a proud father, was spiky and looked as if it might cut a wayward finger. She could not imagine what sort of tree could hold up a fruit of that size, but was very glad she had not wondered it aloud. Lord Maldock informed her that they grew very close to the ground.
If she felt anything at all uncomfortable about the pineapple, it was the cost. She could not know what had been spent on it, but it must have been dear, indeed. Knowing that it was likely part of the effort to tamp down talk about Miss Upton dancing on Lord Alvanley’s table, and Miss Upton in a lights-out scavenger hunt, and Miss Upton dining with an actress, and knowing that Lord Easton had recently lost some large bets and was rather thin in the pockets, the guilt that had become her constant companion only grew heavier round her shoulders.
Still, she had done the only thing she could do during the interminable dinner. She’d worked very hard to be pleasing and she thought she’d done a credible job of it. Both Sir Benjamin and Lord Maldock were exceedingly interested in horses, Lord Maldock knew her father well and Sir Benjamin hoped to know him at some time in the future.
It had been no great effort to keep the conversations going in the direction of horses and she could easily speak to the finer points of selecting a stud or managing oats or arranging proper ventilation in a stable. It was not, of course, her own opinions that were sought after but those of her father. Fortunately, she knew his opinions as well as her own.
Caroline could not ignore the looks from Lord Bertridge that came her way across the table. She could not ignore what they meant. He knew she’d run off from Lady Redfield, he knew she’d gone to the exhibition, and he knew she’d pretended to search for Lady Redfield when she’d done no such thing.
