Page 49 of Lady Graceless
Should he start a rumor?
No, that was too dangerous. If he sent round the idea that Dashlend was pursuing some lady or other, it would be well to remember that the lady had a father who would not be amused. That father would work very hard to discover the source of such talk.
He was not so stupid as to find himself on an early morning green, facing an outraged father.
The knowledge of Dashlend’s supposed preference must be subtly communicated to Lady Grace herself, not gossiped about all over Town.
Then it came to him, as the right idea always did when he kept his thoughts moving forward.
He would send two sets of flowers to Lady Grace. Only, one of those bouquets would appear to be mistakenly delivered. It would seem as if Dashlend had ordered two arrangements and the florist had made a mistake in the addresses to be used.
Both of the bouquets would arrive to the duke’s house, both would be from Dashlend. The one with the note for Lady Grace would be something pedestrian that indicated mild friendship. The one addressed to the duke’s house but with a note for another lady, Lady Lavender perhaps, would send the message of love.
Montclave paused, smiling into the night air. It would not only point to love, but there must be some hint toward Lady Grace’s insecurity. It must point out the other lady’s skill on a ballroom floor, perhaps.
Lady Grace would see that Dashlend sent his love to another lady, and it had only been the florist’s mistake to wrongly deliver the bouquet. She would feel she had discovered a secret, and it was not a secret that favored her.
There was only one flaw in the plan that he could see. What if Lady Grace were to order the flowers for the other lady forwarded on to their right destination?
That could be managed. She would not send them directly. She would send the flowers back to the florist, as what else could she do? It would be too humiliating to send them on to the lady, explaining what had happened. He could arrange things with the florist. He’d pay extra for the florist to take them back and forward them nowhere. Any florist would be happy with that proposal, as he could resell the flowers.
He must just find a florist who would take him on account.
Montclave whistled the rest of the way to Lord Doanellen’s house, satisfied that he was about to shake things up. When they settled, they were bound to settle in his favor.
*
GRACE HAD THOUGHTshe might like to skip an appearance at Almack’s altogether. After all, her father was agreeable to forgo it as he did not care for the patronesses’ idea of supper. He further thought it was not at all a necessary appearance for a duke’s daughter—they needed nobody’s approval. As for Grace, herself, she felt she did not require so many elevated matrons’ eyes examining her dancing and its grace. Or lack of it.
But then, Lord Dashlend had said he would attend and asked if she would too. Of course she would go. She would jump up and down in her bedchamber to steady herself, and then she would go.
If only the rules were not so strict. If only she could swan in, dance with Lord Dashlend and ignore everybody else.
She had made her curtsy to the patronesses, who had none too subtly inquired why they had not seen her the week before. Her dear papa explained that Grace had been struck down with a cold and did not wish to displease the ladies by appearing with a red nose.
They all nodded in sympathy and approval, as evidently a red nose would have been ill-received.
As they left the matrons behind, her father whispered, “As deep and thoughtful as rain puddles, that lot.”
Then, there he was, waiting by the cloak room. Lord Dashlend was waiting for her. She was certain that was what had brought him there.
He bowed. “Your Grace, Lady Grace.”
“Well met, Dashlend,” the duke said. “Now, I will give you a hint before you put your name down on my daughter’s card—we will on no account stay for that ridiculous excuse for a supper.”
“I see,” Lord Dashlend said. “Then I’d better take the first, if Lady Grace is agreeable.”
“I am most agreeable,” Grace said in a rush, and likely far too enthusiastically.
Lord Dashlend smiled. He penciled in his name and handed her a card as her father handed her cloak to a footman. “I took the liberty of retrieving a card.”
“Very efficient, Dashlend,” the duke said, laughing.
Itwasvery efficient, Grace thought. And certainly it must be more evidence of his interest.
“Here we are,” her sister Felicity said, approaching them. She was accompanied by Mr. Stratton, who was looking in high spirits.
“My dear wife informed me that we must turn up in force once she was apprised that Lady Grace would attend this evening,” Mr. Stratton said. “Well, Dashlend, you survived Fact or Fib, so I suppose you can stand up to anything now.”
