Beguiling The Duke. Eva Shepherd
stifle a giggle. The supposedly fun-loving Alexander his mother was describing was as far from the serious, disapproving man standing beside her as it was possible to get.
‘Really, Your Grace?’ Rosie tried hard not to laugh. ‘In that case I look forward to seeing Alexander perform a few party tricks.’
The Dowager flicked a nervous look in Alexander’s direction, her smile twitching at the edges. Alexander glared back at her, as if challenging his mother to try and talk her way out of her outrageous claim.
Instead of attempting the impossible, she took Rosie’s arm. ‘There will be plenty of time for that later, but now our other guests are anxious to meet you.’
They swept their way around the large room and Rosie was introduced to Lord This and Lady That, the Countess of This and the Earl of That. If the assembled guests were anything to go by it seemed the FitzRoys really did mix in exclusive society. There was not a Mr or Mrs among them, with everyone in the room bearing a title from Duke down to Baron.
And each guest, no matter what their title, reacted in exactly the same manner when they were introduced to Rosie—with enthusiastic delight, as if they really were meeting the future Duchess of Knightsbrook. She was greeted with smiles, nods of approval, and even the occasional curtsey from the assembled aristocrats.
It seemed the Dowager was so convinced she was going to marry Alexander that she had all but announced the engagement already.
Alexander was right. The Dowager was a very determined woman. But unfortunately for her she was going to discover that both Rosie and Alexander were equally resolute that they would not be wed.
Their circuit of the large room took them to the last guest, a rather severe elderly woman standing by the fire. The Dowager seemed to hesitate, her smile quivering slightly, before she smiled and made the introductions.
‘Lady Beaufort, may I introduce Arabella van Haven? She is our guest from America.’
Lady Beaufort’s straight posture grew more rigid and her nose rose higher in the air as she tilted back her head and raked her gaze over Rosie from head to toe, then back again. ‘So you’re the banker’s daughter?’
Rosie’s fists clenched at her sides. Since her father had lost all his money through no fault of his own, reducing their family to a state of poverty, Rosie had been forced to endure being snubbed, insulted and belittled by people who had once treated her family with respect.
Through bitter experience she had learnt to let such behaviour wash over her. So she did what she always did in such circumstances: breathed in deeply, forced herself to relax her tensely gripped hands and smiled her sunniest smile.
‘That’s right. I’m the banker’s daughter—Arabella van Haven. How do you do?’
She received the expected glare in return, which only caused Rosie to smile more brightly.
‘I hear you’re seeking a titled husband?’ Lady Beaufort said after a prolonged silence.
Several guests nearby gasped at this blatant breach of the rules of polite conversation, but their shock didn’t stop them from leaning forward, eager to hear more of this exchange.
‘Oh, come, come, Lady Beaufort,’ the Dowager said with a false laugh. ‘Miss van Haven is here to enjoy our hospitality. If she and Alexander should happen to fall in love, well...’
‘I’m just pleased my dear daughter Lydia is not here to see this shameless behaviour.’
The Dowager’s mouth opened and closed as she gasped for something to say.
‘And now that I’ve met the banker’s daughter who is trying to buy herself a title I think I’ll take my leave.’
Lady Beaufort swept past Rosie, causing her to jump out of her way to avoid getting trampled in her bull-like progress.
But Rosie had failed to notice one of the couples who had moved closer to hear the conversation. She stepped back on to the listening man’s foot, causing him to cry out and send his teacup clattering to the ground.
The sound of shattering china brought all conversation to a sudden halt as every head turned in their direction.
‘Oh, look what the clumsy little thing has done!’ Lady Beaufort said as a young maid scrambled on the floor to retrieve the pieces of broken porcelain. ‘It’s a shame these Americans don’t know how to act in polite society.’
‘Lady Beaufort, I think you should leave. Now.’
Rosie heard Alexander’s commanding voice behind her.
‘Oh, don’t worry. I’m leaving. I’m quite particular about the company I keep. Thank goodness Lydia was saved from seeing this appalling display.’
She gave Rosie another disapproving look and swept out of the room, her exit watched by every one of the assembled guests.
‘I think our guests are in need of a drink somewhat stronger than tea,’ Alexander announced, and signalled to the servants, who began pouring glasses of port.
Conversation instantly erupted in the room, but it was no longer the murmur of polite chatter. The assembled guests were talking loudly, all at once, and judging from the repeated glances in Rosie’s direction they were all speculating on what had just happened.
Alexander leaned down and whispered in her ear. ‘Would you like to take some air, Arabella?’
She nodded rapidly. She most certainly did want to escape. The last thing she felt like doing was remaining in the drawing room while a group of gossiping lords and ladies discussed that bizarre outburst.
Rosie had been snubbed by some of New York’s finest snobs, and she had smiled through every subtle and not so subtle insult. But she was decidedly shaken by Lady Beaufort’s outburst.
Why this woman should hate her was unfathomable. Surely being a banker’s daughter was not so shameful? Particularly when that banker was one of America’s wealthiest men and therefore, by extension, one of the world’s wealthiest men. And why was Lady Beaufort so concerned about her daughter not being exposed to someone like Arabella? And why should she care whether she married Alexander?
This was clearly more than just good old-fashioned snobbery.
Alexander led Arabella out through the drawing room towards the French doors. Voices fell silent as they passed, and each guest turned and attentively followed their progress as they walked across the room. He’d leave his guests to their gossip and speculation, and he was sure there would be an excessive amount of that. All that was important was to get Arabella away from the wagging tongues.
As he closed the doors behind them every gleeful face turned in their direction, all eyes peering out of the large sash windows with insatiable curiosity.
He exhaled with impatience. No doubt talking about that incident would keep them entertained for many weeks to come. It was a pity they did not have more to occupy their time, but with wealth and a multitude of servants came plenty of free hours to gossip.
For once Alexander was grateful that he had such an enormous task ahead of him in saving the estate.
They walked down some stone stairs and across a gravel pathway to a wooden bench in front of the garden.
Arabella seated herself, then looked back over her shoulder at the house. ‘Well, that was certainly strange.’
‘Strange’ was an understatement. Alexander gazed at her, amazed at her composure. But her lack of distress was neither here nor there. She should not have been exposed to Lady Beaufort’s wrath.
Alexander had difficulty understanding why his mother had invited her to an event such as this. It was inevitable that Lady Beaufort would be offended by