He cast her a wry smile, not quite believing her. “I’ll send a maid and a footman down to you as soon as possible. In the meantime, rely on Mrs. Curtis for your needs. Donotattempt to lift anything heavier than a lacy handkerchief on your own.”
She placed a hand over her heart. “My sacred oath.”
Only then did his smile turn full and broad.
But it lasted only a moment before he turned away and called to his brother. “Let’s head downstairs and set up Miss Temple’s prison escape. Mother? Or should I refer to you as Napoleon Bonaparte?”
“Do not be so insolent, Ramsdale. You are not too big to drag to the woodshed and thrash. Yes, I’ll follow you down in a moment.” The dowager turned to Ailis once the two men had walked out. “My son might invite you to dine with us or take tea with us during our stay.”
“I fully expect he will,” Ailis replied. “He has already suggested it. I thought it was a nice idea at the time.”
“But no longer,” Jonas’s mother insisted. “Please, my dear. It is important that you decline his invitation. Please do so for the sake of the dukedom. I would not ask this of you were it just the family in residence. But you do understand my concern, do you not?”
“Yes, it is time for him to…move on.” Ailis felt an acute disappointment, but knew the dowager was right.
“Then do I have your promise? If he invites you to dine with us, you will refuse him?”
“Yes, I promise. I would never do anything to interfere with his choosing the right sort of woman to marry.”
But Ailis was curious about the ladies the dowager duchess had brought along with her. She expected they were beautiful and quite accomplished, but were their hearts just as beautiful? The duke required someone willing to stand by him and support him, yet also challenge him when necessary.
The duke needed someone who made him smile because he did so little of it now.
Would any of these diamonds make him happy?
Chapter Ten
Jonas was inill temper when he returned downstairs and was immediately accosted by the four young ladies his mother had insisted on tossing at him. “Your Grace, what a charming little house you have here. So quaint,” Lady Viola cooed, pretending to like his abode when she clearly did not.
He noted the disappointment in her eyes and knew this young lady was a Londoner through and through. Langford Hall was a pleasant home but would never be mistaken for a grand estate. Not that he had any interest in acquiring a larger or more elegant residence when he was just by himself and this house set in the countryside near Broadmoor served him perfectly well.
Where he saw comfort and tranquility, she saw boredom and isolation.
Did she even know what a chicken looked like other than what was served on a dinner plate?
He cast her a forced smile. “Yes, I am quite happily settled here, Lady Viola. Wouldn’t ever leave my beloved sanctuary were it not for my duties in Parliament.”
“But surely you must enjoy Town life,” she replied with a faltering smile.
“Not in the least. Nor would I allow my wife and children to endure the noise and rank odors of the city. No, it is Broadmoor for me and my family.”
How much clearer did he need to be?
Lady Viola, miffed as could be, took it out on a passing footman who carried a tray of glasses filled with champagne, a strawberry in each. When he paused beside her to offer her a glass, she brushed the man brusquely aside, not caring that he almost spilled the entire tray onto the floor.
Paling, the poor footman struggled to right it, and then quickly moved on to offer a drink to the other guests.
Jonas was not surprised by the actions of this petulant princess, for he had escorted her around London several months earlier and found her to be just as insufferable then. She was all smiles for him, and would likely continue tossing pretty smiles his way. But was she so foolish as to believe he would not notice her behavior toward others?
Ready and eager to be relieved of having to converse with Lady Viola, he gave the nod to one of Edward’s friends, the always strapped-for-funds Lord Pomeroy, remarking on what a pleasure it was to see him again.
The man was quick to catch on and scurried toward him, taking the seat beside the petulant princess that Jonas had just vacated. “May I remark on how divine you look, Lady Viola,” Pomeroy said, his expression enraptured as he commenced fawning over her.
Jonas excused himself as the dutiful lord compared Lady Viola’s hair to the golden sands of Arabia and her lips to rubies.
Right, time to go.
He caught young Pomeroy’s wink at him and knew his broad smile was because of the wager placed in that infernal betting book contrived by Bromleigh, Lynton, and Camborne, the friends Jonas intended to throttle with his bare hands once he saw them again.
