She had, apparently, grown so used to repelling her suitors that she had forgotten how to compliment with sincerity.
“Indeed, there are an unreasonable number of candles,” Nathanial said. His lips twitched.
“Lady Isabella has just arrived,” the Duchess said pointedly. “Pray excuse us, Mary.”
“Not at all,” Theo’s mother said, and took hold of her arm. “Come, Theo.”
“Mama—” With horror, Theo realised where they were going. “Please no. I beg you. I will dance withanyother gentleman.”
“The Earl of Whitstable is willing to reach an arrangement with your father. You know with your father’s . . .” She stopped before she could say something like ‘compulsion to game’, although Theo knew it was true. Her father had gambled away his fortune and there was nothing left. Her family’s survival relied on her marriage. “It won’t be so bad, my love. You’ll see.”
“Not so bad? Mama, he isbald.”
“There are worse things.”
At that present moment, face to face with the Earl of Whitstable, she could think ofnothingworse. He was older than she remembered, with a few straggling grey hairs across his shiny head, and a sweaty top lip. The large golden buttons on his waistcoat seemed in imminent danger of flying off any second.
“Lady Shrewsbury,” the Earl said in a plummy voice as he bowed. “Lady Theodosia. What a pleasure to see you here tonight.”
“We could not have missed such an event,” her mother said.
For the first time, Theo wished they could. She fanned herself vigorously. “It is so crowded tonight. And warm!”
“The Norfolks are excellent hosts,” he said as though he knew them intimately. Theo knew he did not. “May I ask for the first dance, Lady Theodosia?”
“She would bedelighted,” her mother said with an accompanying glare.
He is willing to reach an arrangement with your father.
Thankful she was wearing gloves, Theo allowed the Earl to lead her into the centre of the floor where a minuet was beginning. One dance. She could manage one dance.
“Now, my dear,” the Earl huffed, tightening his grip on her hand. “You look charming this evening.”
“You mean to say I do not look charming any other time?”
The Earl did not so much as blink; she may as well not have spoken at all. “I have spoken to your father, and he is amenable to the match. I understand yourlack of a dowry”—this was delivered in a stage whisper that made her flinch—“may have been a deterrent for other suitors, but I assure you it is not a consideration for me.”
Perhaps you should have invested in a golden tooth as proof of your wealth, she thought viciously. “Are you certain?” she asked. “I have nothing, you know.”
“Quite certain.”
Drat. “I—”
“Before I am carried away with my ardour,” he continued, “I must also inform you I am more than happy to render your father any financial assistance he feels is necessary.”
This was going all wrong. Knowledge of her father’s expectations was supposed to discourage potential suitors—especially the unappealing ones. “It is likely to be considerable,” she said.
“That is of little matter. I will consider myself amply recompensed.” His gaze flicked over her body. “Your beauty and accomplishments will decorate my drawing room most pleasingly.”
If she’d had a little more breath, she might have educated him on what romance was supposed to look like. The great heroes of literature did not mention financial matters or a woman’s accomplishments; they pledged themselves body and soul to their loves.
They didnotrefer to said loves as being mereornaments.
“Your charms may tempt the most reticent of men,” he said, his hand dropping dangerously far down her back. “I look forward to our wedding with the greatest anticipation.”
“You are hasty, sir,” Theo said, wiggling away from his wandering hand. “You may have spoken to my father on the matter, but you have not spoken to me.”
He frowned, thick lips puckering. “What further is there to say?”
