“You know perfectly well that it’s past time you made a match, Allan. Miss Catherine is young and beautiful and will happily marry you if you find her to your liking.”
“I might have known it was something like this. Do you truly think it’ll be this easy to back me into a corner? I’m not going to marry this young lady, no matter how beautiful she may be. I certainly hope you haven’t given them any expectations. If you have, it will reflect poorly on the both of us.”
“You should wait and get to know her before you make any decisions about what you will or won’t do. You might find that you like her more than you expect to.”
“Grandmother, how is this going to look given the fact that I am supposed to be involved in a courtship with Lady Edwina?”
“Allan, you told me yourself that your involvement with Lady Edwina wasn’t to be taken seriously. Didn’t you indicate that you saw no future with that young lady and that you continued to see her only as a means of finding the lady whoisto be your duchess?”
“I didn’t put it like that.” The truth was that Allan knew he had spoken of Lady Edwina in almost exactly those terms, and it was difficult to hear his words repeated back to him. They sounded harsher than he would ever have intended them to.
And it was also true that his feelings had changed somewhat. Since the last time he had seen Edwina—since the kiss they’d shared—he couldn’t seem to stop thinking about her. He didn’t know what to do about that. He needed to get her off of his mind. Especially now. She had indicated that she didn’t want to see him again.
Allan wasn’t sure what he was going to do about that. He wasn’t the sort of man to take no for an answer when he was in pursuit of something he wanted—it felt strange to give up so quickly. On the other hand, he also wasn’t one to beg. And his grandmother was right, as far as that went—there were plenty of young ladies who would have him. Plenty of young ladies would be grateful for a scrap of his attention, as a matter of fact. They wouldn’t act as though they were doing him a favor by spending time in his company, the way Lady Edwina always had.
Perhaps this Miss Catherine would be that sort.
Only a baron’s daughter, but Allan didn’t care so much about that. If a lady was charming and witty and beautiful, he wasn’t overly concerned with who her father might be. She would be a duchess if she married him, and that was what really mattered.
“I’ll meet her,” he told his grandmother.
She relaxed visibly, betraying that she had, in fact, been nervous about his response to all this. “I knew you would,” she said. “You’ve always been a sensible young man.”
“I said I would meet her,” Allan clarified. “I’m not promising anything beyond conversation, Grandmother.”
“Of course not, dear.”
“And I won’t have you inviting people to the house like this. In the future, you must consult with me before issuing this sort of invitation. If you don’t do that, I reallywillturn your guest away at the door next time, and I won’t think twice about it.”
The Baroness and Miss Catherine arrived about an hour later.
Allan saw at once what his grandmother had meant about Miss Catherine—she really was a beauty. She was slender and willowy and barely stood as high as his shoulder, and her chestnut-colored hair looked soft and inviting. Her eyes were wide, andher lips were full and soft, and if she had been a painting, he thought he would have found no fault with her.
But he had higher expectations of young ladies than he did of paintings.
They began a tour around the house. Allan’s grandmother linked arms with the Baroness, and the two of them walked ahead a little bit, leaving Allan to entertain Miss Catherine.
“How are you enjoying the season so far?” he asked her.
“Oh, it’s been delightful,” she said eagerly. “So many parties! I feel as if I could attend one every night and never tire of them.”
“You enjoy parties, then?”
“Goodness, doesn’t everyone? I think they must be the finest thing in life.”
Allan found himself imagining what Edwina would have said to such a statement as that. In fact, he pictured telling her about it and was hit with a shock of disappointment when he remembered that the two of them would no longer be socializing. There would be no opportunity for him to report on this conversation. It felt sort of tragic. She would have found it deeply amusing.
He tried to focus his attention on Miss Catherine. Perhaps he had misunderstood her intent. “When you say parties are the finest thing in life, surely that’s only a figure of speech?”
“What do you mean?” she asked.
Was she merely asking for clarification, or was she telling him that she didn’t know what a figure of speech was? Allan wasn’t sure he wanted to know that answer.
He tried his best to explain without seeming condescending. “I’m wondering whether you truly think parties are more enjoyable than anything else,” he said. “Surely great works of art and literature must be worthy of more esteem than a simple ball.”
“It sounds to me as though you just haven’t been to any reallygoodballs, Your Grace,” Mis Catherine beamed. “But perhaps we can arrange one while my mother and I are here. I would enjoy that ever so much.”
“You and your mother are only here for a few short days,” Allan reminded her. He was already feeling grateful for the brevity of their stay. “I’m afraid there won’t be time to arrange a ball.”
