“I’ll be there, my dear,” Tristan said, not turning around. “Don’t you worry about that.”
Not bothering to respond, Madeline turned and almost fled from the room, her heart pounding in her chest all the way.
CHAPTER 16
Tristan privately thought that inviting his mother on their trip the following day was a good idea.
Dorothea was not the sort of woman who complained, even when she really ought to. There had never been any word of reproach from her to her son about anything, even when his reputation was at its lowest.
She’d never reproached any of them.
Not complaining about things, however, seemed to do one little good. Dorothea lived a quiet sort of life, and it occurred to him now that she might notenjoyher peaceful life. Tristan was glad that she had come with them on their trip, and it was good to see his mother enjoying herself.
“I know this dressmaker well,” Dorothea confided on the journey there. “You are in for a treat, Madeline.”
The dressmaker in question was Madame Tishell, a tall, thin woman with a hooked nose and a tremendous eye for detail. One was not consideredfullyready for society unless one had at least one gown or accessory from Madame Tishell.
She was currently fitting Madeline for another gown. Charlotte was roaming the shop floor, the sound of her footsteps swallowed up by the thick, plush carpet. Tristan had found a padded brocade armchair and thrown himself onto it. His mother sat on the seat beside him. She would try on her choice of gown next, once Madame’s assistant returned with the gown itself.
“She’s a lovely girl, you know,” Dorothea remarked, out of nowhere.
“Hm?” Tristan queried.
“Madeline, I mean. She’s a delight. I think she is perfect for you.”
He chuckled. “I’m glad you think so.”
“And more to the point,youare perfect forher. That sort of balance does not come naturally, you know.”
Tristan paused, glancing over at his mother. “I’m not entirely sure what you mean.”
Dorothea only shook her head.
“I remember thinking to myself, one day before you and your brother were ever born, thatIwas exactly what your father needed. I was calm, dependable, and I never reproached him for anything, ever. Of course, he was wild for an heir. You never knew that, did you? An official one, that is, from me, whereas he could father as many bastards as he liked outside of our marriage bed.”
Tristan swallowed hard. He knew, of course, about his father’s famous infidelities.Everybodyin society knew it, although the gossip had been forgotten along with the man in question. He wasn’t a fool. He and Anthony had known that their father was a poor parent and an infinitely worse husband. He had just never heard hismothersay such a thing.
“So my point is,” Dorothea murmured, leaning back in her own seat, “that while I was a good wife to your father—and I stand by that, regardless of my initial failures regarding heirs—he was the worst man I could have possibly married. Marriages are not equal, my dear. Not everybody is suited to the person who is suited tothem. But with you and Madeline, well. I feel as though there is hope.”
Tristan wasn’t entirely sure what to say about this. He cleared his throat, shifted, and adjusted his cuffs.
“I’m sorry that you had such a miserable married life, Mother,” he murmured. “Anthony and I often wished that we could do more.”
She waved a hand. “Oh, the Duke of Tolford cannot be denied. Thank heavens you’re a finer duke than he is.”
At that moment, before Tristan could respond, the assistant came hurrying back with a heavy gold-and-brown dress hanging over her arm. Dorothea brightened and sprang to her feet.
“Ah, my gown! I shall try it on. Excuse me, my dear.”
She patted Tristan on the shoulder and hurried away, humming to herself under her breath.
Tristan sat still for a moment, unable to pick his way through that odd speech. It seemed almost as if his mother was trying to tell him something. She clearly believed that he and Madeline had a chance at a love match, which was, of course, nonsense.
Not that Tristan would object to a more traditional marriage, naturally. There was something very alluring about Madeline, something that made him want to touch her, kiss her,watchher. She was extremely interesting to watch.
Anybody who deemed her dull or a wallflower had no clue at all in matters of taste. Madeline was genuinely thrilling. She was clever, beautiful, and, frankly, had more of an understanding of society than society probably had of itself.
In short, he enjoyed her company, and there were not many people about whom Tristan could genuinely saythat.
