When a Marquis Chooses a Bride (12 page)

“A penny.” He grinned.

A bit of heat rose in her cheeks. If he only knew her thoughts were worth far more than that. “I so enjoy dancing with you.”

He looked a little surprised, but his hands tightened. “Thank you.”

She gazed into his warm blue eyes wishing they could remain here forever. Then she remembered her protégé. “How is little Tom?”

His countenance suddenly became serious. “He is well now. When I left the house he was still asleep. There is some sort of mystery surrounding him.”

This was unexpected. “What do you mean?”

“I don't know if this is the place to discuss it. It is a rather long story.” He twirled her down the floor.

“I shall ask your mother if I may visit him tomorrow, if you don't mind, that is.”

“Not at all. You may have better luck convincing him to tell his story. I have little experience with children.”

How sad that he was an only child. “Tell me about Cyrille. How was he after his carriage ride?”

Merton gave a bark of laughter, and the couple next to them stared. “He barely made it home before he had to use the facilities.”

“Oh dear. You should probably have a harness made for him. It wouldn't do for him to jump down from the carriage.”

His mien was still stern, but his eyes twinkled with mirth. “If you think I am going to stop my carriage so that he can get down and—”

“Oh stop.” If she started to giggle she wouldn't be able to cease. “I shall embarrass us both if you do not. I doubt if going into whoops during a ball is acceptable behavior.”

“Do you never try to hide your feelings?” he asked quietly.

“Sometimes.” He probably wasn't used to a lady who didn't pretend to be bored. “If I do not want to hurt someone else. I would never, for example, tell Mrs. Jacobs, one of our tenants, that her biscuits taste like straw dust, even though they do.”

His eyes rounded in shock. “You mean to tell me you actually eat them?”

Well, of all the silly questions. “Of course I do. Pray, how am I to avoid it?”

Merton shook his head slightly. “I suppose you cannot.” He was quiet for a moment. “What I had meant by the question was do you never pretend you're not having fun when you are?”

“No, why should I? I think that is vastly ridiculous behavior especially in a lady just out.”

“They do it to follow the fashion.”

How to answer that? Dotty knew Merton was friends with Lord Alvanley, a good friend of Beau Brummell's. “I prefer to make my own fashion. One not based on deceit.”

He stared at her intently for a moment, his deep blue eyes flickering with interest before saying, “You are an unusual woman, Dorothea Stern.”

She didn't know if he was complimenting her or not, so she decided to take it as an accolade. “Thank you.”

When the set ended, he escorted her to Grace, who was sitting with Lady Merton. Louisa and Charlotte arrived at the same time. “Where is Matt?”

Grace glanced up at the ceiling, which was the closest she ever came to rolling her eyes. “I sent him to the card room.”

“Whatever for?” Louisa asked.

“To save his life,” Grace replied grimly. “His brilliant plan to chaperone you girls this evening was to have me dance every set with him so he could keep track of you.”

Charlotte frowned slightly. “But you like dancing with Matt.”

“Under normal circumstances I adore dancing with him. Yet not when he is trying to stand guard over any of you. I live in trepidation of what he would decide was a reasonable recourse if a gentleman was too close to you or held your gaze a moment too long. It quite spoilt my enjoyment.” Grace had been speaking to all of them, but now she turned to Dotty. “I understand you are engaged to Merton for the supper dance?”

She nodded, hoping it wasn't a problem. She liked dancing with Merton every bit as much as Grace seemed to enjoy dancing with her husband. “Yes, I am.”

“Lady Merton has asked you to join her for supper.”

That was good thinking on someone's part. If Dotty had to sit through another supper with Matt glaring at Merton, she would not be responsible for her actions. She also wished to hear about the other kitten and more about Tom. Although she knew they would be treated well, she liked to keep track of her charges.

She glanced at the older woman. “Thank you, my lady.”

The supper dance was another waltz, and she wanted nothing more than to sink into Merton's arms.

When the dance concluded, he escorted her to his mother and they went down to supper. After seating them as far away from the Worthington table as possible, Merton commandeered a footman and returned with lobster patties, salmon poached in champagne, truffled guinea-fowl, stuffed pigeon's eggs, a salad, creams, tarts, and a small trifle.

His hand touched hers as he handed her a glass of champagne, causing the tingling to start again.

“I tried to procure all the foods you seemed to like the last time.”

Amazed that he had remembered, she grinned, then took a small sip of wine. “Thank you, my lord.”

Carriage drives, two waltzes, now this. Was it possible Merton was courting her? If he was, she would need to decide what her feelings for him were.

He had other dishes placed before his mother.

“Thank you, my dear. I am sure I shall like all of it.” Lady Merton looked over at Dotty. “How are you enjoying your Season so far, Dorothea?”

“Very much, my lady. It is everything I'd hoped it would be.” Dotty paused for a moment. “Could you please tell me how Camille is doing?”

Lady Merton's expressive light blue eyes sparkled. “She is the light of my life. She always seems to know when I want her and is there with me.”

Dom took the seat on the other side of Dotty at the small round table. Under the guise of taking a bite of food, she slipped a glance in his direction and found him doing the same. His lips tilted up as he lifted the champagne glass to his mouth.

At that exact moment, when she'd been paying no attention at all to the conversation, Lady Merton asked, “Do you not agree, Miss Stern?”

Warmth rose in her cheeks. “I'm sorry—”

“Mama,” Merton interpolated, “is that Lady Bellamny who just walked in?”

Dotty breathed a sigh of relief and flashed him a quick smile as his mother turned toward the door.

“Yes, I believe it is. I shall have to find her later. We used to be close friends at school.”

“I thought I remembered something of the sort,” he murmured.

Lady Merton looked at Dotty and Merton. “Dominic, I understand we have a new addition to the household.”

“We do indeed. His name is Tom. Miss Stern saved him today.”

Warmth crept back into Dotty's face as Merton told his mother how it came about and what happened later with the bath. “I hope you do not mind, my lady?”

“Of course not. It is a very large house. I doubt one little boy will be much trouble.”

Dotty prayed Tom would settle in quickly. “I may know where we can find some of the information about him. At least who he has been with recently. Two of Grace's friends, Lady Evesham and Lady Rutherford, have opened an orphanage and have learned a great deal about children on the street.”

“I don't think he's been alone,” Merton said. “He mentioned someone else to me. I shall tell you when you come over tomorrow.”

Lady Merton raised a brow and Dotty remembered that she had not asked if she could visit. “If I may, my lady.”

“Naturally, I would welcome a call from you. Perhaps you can join me for luncheon?”

“Thank you. I would love to.”

At the end of supper, Dotty excused herself to go to the ladies' retiring room. She was still behind the screen when two women, who obviously thought they were alone as they barely lowered their voices, began to speak.

“Merton standing up twice with Miss Stern and having his mother join them for supper is not a good sign,” the first lady said in low desperate tones.

“We shall have to act quickly. Fortunately, I have an idea,” a second lady responded. “You'll give a footman a note for Merton asking him to meet you by the fountain at one o'clock.”

“I can't sign my name to a message like that. What if it landed in the wrong hands? I would be ruined.”

“No, no, my dear,” the other lady said soothingly. “It will be anonymous. Better yet, I shall write it.”

There was silence for a few moments, then, “Very well. Though we must hurry, we've only got about twenty minutes before the hour. What will you be doing?”

“I shall ask two or three of the ladies to stroll in the garden with me, for some air. When you hear me laugh, throw your arms around him.”

Dotty put her hand over her mouth, stifling a gasp. What a wicked thing to do. Papa had warned her about men doing something of the sort, but that a lady would attempt to compromise herself was nothing short of shocking.

The first lady sounded worried. “Are you sure this will work?”

“Oh yes.” The other one chuckled. “Merton detests scandals of any type. His being a prig will finally work in your favor.”

There was that word again. He'd never acted stodgy around her. Really, where did people get these ideas?

“It's as good a plan as any, I suppose,” the first lady said dubiously.

Dotty considered leaping out and declaring her intention to find Merton and reveal the plot, but that smacked of something a heroine in a novel would do, right before she was tied up. Besides, if she spoilt the scheme now, she might not be around when they tried again. Both women seemed determined Merton should marry the one lady.

“Good,” the second lady said. “I have some paper and a pencil.”

The soft scratching of the lead on paper was the only sound for several moments, then finally the door opened and closed. When Dotty peeked around the screen; the room was empty. She must find Merton and warn him. With any luck, he would have left the ball by now. She strode back to the ballroom as quickly as she could, without attracting attention. Why was it still so crowded? Across the room, Lady Merton sat with Grace and another lady. Drat, that meant he was still here. Skirting the edge of the room, Dotty made her way toward the doors to the terrace just in time to see him stride out.

She caught up to Merton as he reached the meeting place. “My lord—”

“Miss Stern, what is the meaning of this?” Holding up the note he frowned.

“I've come to warn you.” Her heart was beating so fast, she could barely speak, and she'd never before been alone with a gentleman. “You must go back inside now. Please!”

He shook his head. “I don't understand. You asked me to meet you here.”

Of all times for him to pick to be difficult. Keeping her voice low, she infused it with urgency. “No, the note is a trap.” She grabbed his hand and tried to pull him toward the doors. Unfortunately, the dratted man stood stock-still.

“A trap?” He frowned. “What do you mean?”

She resisted the urge to rail at him. It must be almost one. They had no time to waste. “I'll explain it to you on the way in.”

He stared down at her. “You'll explain it to me now.”

Of all times for him to act like a . . . Grrr. Didn't he read novels? As calmly as she could she said, “I overheard a conversation. There is a lady trying to force you to marry her.” Dotty took his other hand and tugged. “Please, you cannot be caught out here.”

Finally he moved, but the force of her pulling and him stepping forward brought them up against each other. Before she could move away someone gasped.

“Well, well, well, what have we here?”

Dotty recognized the voice as one of the ladies she had overheard earlier, but Merton's broad chest blocked her view.

He was so close, her breasts practically touched his waistcoat, and his arms were around her waist.

“Obviously we are interrupting a tryst,” another woman twittered.

“Such goings-on in the garden,” a third one said.

The fourth lady's laugh sounded like a cackle. “It's been a few weeks since we've had a good scandal.”

It probably wouldn't help, but Dotty would try to talk Dom and herself out of this predicament. She raised up on her toes, barely able to see over Merton's shoulder. A tall blond lady's jaw dropped open, and her face flushed with anger.

“I—I was delivering a note.” Unfortunately, her voice was anything but firm.

So much for being convincing. By the shocked looks on the faces of all four ladies, none of them believed her.

Merton placed his arms around Dotty's shoulders. “What you see, ladies”—his voice was so cold and wintery, she shivered—“is a proposal.” He glanced at her. “I believe Miss Stern was about to give me an answer when you interrupted.”

She couldn't breathe. Wed Merton? She liked him well enough, at times even more than that, yet she wanted to be sure the man she married loved her and she loved him, and there were the other considerations as well. She could not wed a man who did not feel as she did about social issues and politics.

He whispered in her ear, “You made a good effort, but it didn't work. There is only one way forward.”

If only she knew what she should do. Did she have any options or was he correct?

Placing one finger under her chin, he tilted it up. His soft breath caressed her ear. “Would marrying me be such a tragedy?”