The Earl's Iron Warrant (The Duke's Pact Book 6) Page 7

  As Daisy rode in the carriage beside Mrs. Jellops on the way to dinner at the Minkertons, she could not help but think this was her first venture out into society since her father’s death. It was only to be a small dinner, but it was something.

  Lady Bartholomew and her daughter, Miss Minkerton, had called upon her and issued the invitation. She’d found both ladies remarkably pleasant, though Miss Minkerton was perhaps a bit subdued. The longer she’d thought upon it, the more she’d wondered if Miss Minkerton were not in some way like herself. Wishing to be carefree and yet not quite as able to as other ladies.

  She had always noticed it about herself—she had not the blithe spirits that seemed to come so easily to everybody else she encountered. She had gathered, from hints here and there, especially from Lord Dalton, that she was viewed as rather cold. Miss Minkerton was not cold, not in the least. But there was something in her manner that set her apart. A hesitancy that spoke of private thoughts and a mind not at peace.

  “Mrs. Jellops,” Daisy said, “how did you find Miss Minkerton?”

  “Oh, she seemed a pleasant girl,” her companion said.

  “But did she seem…a bit sad? Or subdued? Or somehow muted?”

  “Sad? I did not think so. Perhaps on the quieter side of things.”

  “I wonder…”

  Mrs. Jellops patted her hand. “My dear, I think you may be more sensitive to variations in temperament than other people. Miss Minkerton was on the quiet side of things because it was likely one of the first calls the girl has made outside of her own little neighborhood. Nerves, you know.”

  Perhaps that had been the case, though Daisy was not entirely certain. She gazed out the window at the darkness, only the crashing waves in the distance and the salt in the air belying that they were near the sea.

  Lord Dalton was on his horse and led the carriage. She could sometimes glimpse him as they made a turn.

  She sat back, knowing full well that she should not be trying to glimpse him at all. She had reminded herself of that idea just about every morning. He would come out of the cottage and sit on a bench with his coffee, unshaven and only wearing trousers and a thin shirt with the sleeves rolled up. He was devilishly handsome in his disarray and she would peek round the curtains at him. She had seen him at night sitting out there too. It was very wrong! Now, he had to go and sit a horse so finely.

  He did most things very finely, despite his reputation of being difficult.

  Daisy supposed the Minkertons would not mind that he was difficult. After all, they had a daughter to settle and he was to be a duke.

  Daisy sat up straighter. Of course! This dinner was not meant to cheer Daisy, it was meant to introduce Miss Minkerton to Lord Dalton. How did she not see that before?

  How odd that she would not have realized it. When she was her father’s daughter, she’d questioned everything and put a cynical eye to every case. Her wits and suspicions were always sharpened and on alert. It seemed that now that his ever-present disapproving eye was gone, she’d softened and become less discerning.

  It was not a promising development. If she meant to live without a husband, she must learn not to be taken advantage of. Sharp wits would be necessary. Servants, merchants, unwelcome lotharios—they would all take their chance. She must be prepared to spot any mischief or schemes.

  Her thoughts drifted once again to Miss Minkerton and this evening’s plan to present her to Lord Dalton. Would he find her pretty? She suspected so. Daisy did not see how anybody could look upon Miss Minkerton and fail to see the depths of her dark eyes or her generous lips always seeming on the edge of a shy smile. Very unlike Daisy herself. She thought, standing next to Miss Minkerton, she must seem rather brittle and frosty.

  “But she will not be right for him,” Daisy said softly.

  “Who will not be right for who?” Mrs. Jellops asked.

  “Belle Minkerton for Lord Dalton,” Daisy answered. “She is too pliable, I think. He’ll be best suited to somebody who can stand up to him.”

  Mrs. Jellops laughed and said, “By his own reckoning, he is not suited to anybody. Though if he were, I suspect he’d do well with a lady who could cheer him up a bit. No matter, I do not believe Lord Dalton will ever be caught.”

  No, of course, he would not be caught. Any more than she herself would be caught. He would not go starry-eyed over Miss Minkerton, no matter the lady’s attractions.

  Daisy was slightly disturbed to notice that the idea sat very well with her.

  ~ ~ ~ ~ ~

  Charles saw the house come into view ahead and turned up the drive. The Minkertons had been sensible enough to line the drive with torches to lead the way. In this neighborhood, one might ride themselves off a cliff and into the sea if one were not careful. Though the coachman swore he’d grown up in these parts and knew the roads like the back of his hand, Charles had ridden ahead of the carriage to avoid such a disaster.

  He was rather cheered to be dining out. Mr. Flanagan did indeed produce a good dinner, regardless of how much Bellamy complained about him, but the atmosphere of his crumbling abode rather ruined the effect. When one was employed in driving off daring insects, both flying and crawling, and a cat who had made herself at home and was not afraid to demand her share of beef, one could hardly concentrate on one’s plate.

  He had supposed Miss Minkerton would be thrown at his feet, as all young misses seemed to be, until he’d considered that Burke would have warned them of his views and disposition. It hardly mattered, he supposed, as many a lady had made a run at him and then abruptly turned the other direction after conversing with him for any length of time.

  Charles knew he ought to make himself more congenial. He was perfectly capable of it. It was just that he found these hordes of ladies not so subtly vying for a title so irritating! He had already shouted from the rooftops that he would not marry. He had not shouted why, though. As he’d thought more and more about it, he did not see how he was to explain it. Anybody hearing him would think him out of his wits. Or worse, ridiculous.

  What was he to say? Listen here, Burke, I will never marry because I have lost all faith in mankind and do not wish to perpetuate the species. Furthermore, you ought to do the same. Don’t you understand that Hampton, Lockwood, Ashworth, Cabot, and Grayson will all send their sons to war someday?

  It sounded ridiculous to his own ears and he knew what he meant. Or at least, what he had meant. Perhaps the sights and sounds of the war were beginning to fade, or perhaps the unlikely circumstance of all his friends being delighted in marriage had begun to take a toll. He was beginning to lose some little amount of faith in his conclusions at Quatre Bras. Or at least, he was not as certain. His scar was always a reminder, though.

  As much as the swirling balls and elaborate dinners worked to convince him that all was well with the world, the scar reminded him of what it could be.

  He should not worry over it. It was unlikely that a lady like Miss Minkerton, just preparing for her launch season, would find a gruff and affirmed bachelor interesting. If she happened to, and began to sweetly fan herself, Miss Danworth would be there to bring some rationality to the table. If people were spices, he and Miss Danworth would be on the decidedly salty side and honey would be made very much less cloying in their presence.

  Charles shook himself to throw off his thoughts. The house was just ahead and he must put his mind in the present. He was becoming convinced that his incessant brooding did nobody any good, most particularly not himself.

  He leapt down from his horse, handed it off, and opened Miss Danworth’s carriage door to help her down. He practically knocked a footman out of the way to do it.

  ~ ~ ~ ~ ~

  Burke took some amount of pride in introducing Dalton to the Minkertons. Though he could only claim them as friends, and not any other closer relationship he might wish for, he still took pleasure in noting Lord Bartholomew’s friendly welcome, and Lady Bartholomew’s dignified greetings, and Belle…well Belle was everyt
hing wonderful. She was lovely in a pale blue organza and very prettily acknowledged her guests.

  He could not help note the contrast as she stood by Miss Danworth. That lady was tall, she had a very fair coloring, and held herself almost rigid. She was, he supposed, what people meant by an English rose. Pretty, dignified, and beware the thorns. He liked the lady, to be sure, and sympathized with her too, as everybody knew what a beast Lord Childress had been to her mother. And perhaps to her, too.

  For all that, Miss Danworth could not compare to Belle Minkerton. Miss Danworth was a frosty winter morning, while Belle was a warm summer twilight.

  They had gone through and now seated themselves round the dining table. As the party was to be so small, Lady Bartholomew had ordered the leaves taken out of the table and now they were quite the cozy party.

  Burke approved very much of the idea, as small dinners were always the most interesting. Of course, any dinner with Belle was interesting.

  “If I might inquire, Miss Danworth,” Lady Bartholomew said, “and I hope I do not offend, you prior mentioned you would likely not attend the upcoming season. Do you intend to stay in mourning for a full year? I only ask as I think this will be a lonely place in autumn and winter and you are welcome to stay with us, even if you choose to remain out of society.”

  “You certainly do not offend,” Miss Danworth said. “The offer is most kind and therefore I believe I must communicate the real case of it. Though I am dressed in dark colors, I do not particularly mourn my father.”

  “For good reason,” Mrs. Jellops interjected, “though perhaps not reasons that ought to surface at a dinner.”

  Miss Danworth nodded to her and said, “Surely not. Though, I have made my plans with Mrs. Jellops. When I reach my majority, which is in less than a twelvemonth, we shall purchase a house in Brighton and live there.”

  “Do you say, then, that you will skip seasons for the foreseeable future?” Lady Bartholomew asked.

  “Indeed,” Miss Danworth said. “I have no need of them. I will not miss the balls and parties overmuch, I only wish for a quiet existence.”

  Lord Bartholomew appeared suddenly pensive and said, “You are very young to wish for quiet, Miss Danworth.”

  Miss Danworth nodded. “I can see how it would appear so, but when one has always longed for quiet and never had it, it does not seem so strange.”

  “I think I understand you,” Lady Bartholomew said. “But you will not wait too long, I hope? Before you rejoin the world?”

  “Now I think I understand you, Lady Bartholomew,” Miss Danworth said, smiling. “You hope I do not closet myself away so long that I am put on a shelf. I cannot say, really. I only know at this moment I am determined to never marry.”

  Burke could not help but note the surprised looks on the Minkertons’ faces. For that matter, he was a little surprised himself.

  “Surely, Miss Danworth,” he said, “you will not allow your…prior experiences…to color your future?”

  “Why ever not?” Miss Danworth countered. “Is not prior experience thought to be a useful guide?”

  “Well yes, but in this matter you cannot—”

  “I can, though,” Miss Danworth said.

  “Is it quite right? You might find you regret—"

  Burke was cut off by Dalton, who said loudly, “Lord Bartholomew, you must compliment your cook on the soup.”

  ~ ~ ~ ~ ~

  Belle had wondered if this dinner would further illuminate Harry’s feelings for Miss Danworth. And of course, it most certainly had. Miss Danworth, in the natural throes of upset after the death of her father, vowed she would never marry. The lady could not conceive of such a thing at this moment. This wish to retire from society forever was all nonsense, of course, every woman of sense married. What else was one to do with one’s life?

  However, it was not surprising that poor Miss Danworth should feel her resolve permanent just now. She’d had a shock and must rest her mind from it.

  Her dear Harry had been surprised by the idea, though. He’d all but railed against it! Miss Danworth must not think such thoughts!

  She supposed he was so besotted he could not imagine waiting a year or two to claim her.

  Now, he was sitting at the table in the drawing room, partnering Miss Danworth at whist with Belle’s parents. She supposed the picture she viewed just now spoke of things to come. Miss Danworth would become Lady Burke and she and her husband would be great friends of Lord and Lady Bartholomew and they would often play at whist.

  Where would Belle Minkerton be in all of this? Married off to some fellow who was not Harry. Always comparing the poor fellow to the superior Harry. Who could measure up? Who had his looks, his kind and thoughtful nature, his natural high spirits?

  “Miss Minkerton,” Lord Dalton said, interrupting her thoughts, “would you terribly mind to show me the sea charts your father mentioned that he has collected?”

  Belle forced a smile. Lord Dalton was a weak cup of tea compared to Harry. He was one of those fellows who confused seriousness with dignity and intelligence. Still, she was left to entertain him and must do her best.

  As she pulled down one of the heavy books from the shelf and showed him how to use the reference, she said, “I imagine Lord Burke will impatiently wait in the wings until Miss Danworth decides to return to the world.”

  She could not explain why she said such a thing, other than she wished to have further confirmation of her ideas. She already knew the truth though, so it was silly to hear it told twice.

  Lord Dalton looked rather surprised at her boldness, and said, “Will he?”

  “I expect so,” Belle said. “Certainly, you do not view him an unsteady gentleman?”

  “Unsteady? No, I suppose not.”

  “Then why pretend we do not see what we have clearly seen with our own eyes? He will wait, I am sure of it.”

  Lord Dalton turned and looked toward the whist table. “I had not thought…”

  “In any case, Lord Dalton, allow me to show you the key to the map. Here is the chalk flats and just there are the depths noted.”

  Belle bent her head over the maps as if she’d never seen anything so interesting in her life. Harry might be across the room besotted by the charming Miss Danworth, but Belle would not be such a ninny as to allow anyone to notice that she cared about it. She would entertain and inform Lord Dalton as if her life depended upon it, though she could not conceive of a more tedious task.

  ~ ~ ~ ~ ~

  As they made their way slowly home from the Minkertons, Lord Dalton ahead of them on horseback and going very carefully as clouds had overshadowed the moon, Mrs. Jellops said, “They give a fine dinner, I would not mind knowing the details of the sauce on the chicken for Mr. Flanagan’s edification. Though, my dear, perhaps you might think better of being so forthright about…”

  “About my intentions,” Daisy said, already knowing she ought to hide them but not being inclined to it.

  “Yes, and your feelings toward Lord Childress. It is all well and good for me to know them—I was there and saw the truth of it. They are entirely justified, but for people recently met…”

  “They might think me an unfeeling she-devil,” Daisy said.

  “I do not think they thought that at all,” Mrs. Jellops said kindly. “They are a very good sort of people and I imagine they understand your circumstances. Lord Burke would have told them of it, is my guess.”

  “I do not imagine they think of me at all just now,” Daisy said. In a quieter voice, lest her words carry in the still night air, she said, “They have introduced their daughter to Lord Dalton and must see the prospects.”

  “Lord Dalton?” Mrs. Jellops said. “Oh, I see, they may not have heard of his reputation and so think him a likely catch.”

  Daisy could not know if they’d heard of Lord Dalton’s peculiarities or not, but she did not think it mattered much. She’d watched him over the seasons and this was the first time she’d ever seen him really
engaged with a lady.

  Oh, how they’d bent their heads together over those silly maps!

  Certainly, Miss Minkerton was not at all interested in nautical maps. Certainly, Lord Dalton would have known the same. In fact, she was not at all sure he was much interested in them. And yet, they stayed there a very long time while Daisy was at whist.

  More telling, Lord Dalton seemed exceedingly awkward afterward. The gentleman was never awkward! What else was to account for it but Miss Minkerton?

  Daisy supposed she should not be surprised. Belle Minkerton was everything she was not. She was friendly and warm and had that pretty way of almost shyness, but not the sort of shyness that put one off and made one feel they were forced to do all the work. She was not simpering or fanning, she was simply adorable.

  Daisy may have heard, from time to time, that she was herself acclaimed as a beauty. But really, if one were to cut off her hair that was always spoken of, she’d be nothing at all. Further, she could not emulate Belle’s warmth. She was cold, and she knew it. Adorable was the very last word anybody would use to describe her.

  Daisy found herself becoming more and more aggravated, and with nobody other than herself. She should not care a jot how besotted Lord Dalton became with Miss Minkerton. It was only, well it was just that Lord Dalton had not seemed to mind her cold manner. He’d even sometimes seemed to admire her particular temperament. They had jousted and circled round each other and he’d pretended it was nothing, but a man could not hide what he put down on a lady’s card, and Lord Dalton had often put down for her supper. It had given her the feeling that she could not be all wrong, if at least one gentleman thought she was right.

  Despite not wishing to marry, she supposed it had been a satisfying feeling to be approved of. Especially by one as discerning as Lord Dalton. She must just hope the feeling was not a necessary one.