“Have you had tea? Are you hungry?”
“Mary is bringing a tray up anytime now,” Mother said. “You cannot distract me forever, you know.”
It was true. She was a bloodhound, capable of sniffing out even the slightest whiff of romance.
Tristan settled into his plush yellow chair, watching his parents sit close together on the settee. The green silk walls and yellow furniture, accented in blue, had not changed in all of Tristan’s life. Seeing his parents in this room sent him back to his childhood and the games he and Charles would play on a rainy day. Who would be the next children to hide behind the blue curtains? Tristan’s children, or Charles’s?
If they were his children, he knew precisely whom he wanted to be their mother.
“There is a woman,” he finally said. He had written because he needed advice, after all. “But she is entertaining the attention of another man. There is every likelihood it will amount to nothing.”
“But Tris?—”
“Ihopethat is not the case. Indeed, I am doing everything in my power to convince her to choose me.”
“Why do you need to convince her, son?” Father asked.
“Because she will be choosing a life with far less money if she selects me instead of the other gentleman, and money is something her family needs.”
The room grew silent. Tristan wanted to shrink under the direct attention of his parents. He searched for something further to say, anything to explain the situation better than he had.
Mary opened the door, bearing a tea tray and saving him. She set it on the low table in front of the settee, and Mother sat forward to pour.
“Thank you, Mary.” Mother prepared three cups exactly how each person liked it, her mind clearly set upon something. If her calculating gaze was an indication, she was already scheming. “What do you have planned for this evening, Tristan?”
He accepted his cup. “Are you familiar with Kitty Fielding? Her father is throwing her a ball.”
“We know the Fieldings, yes,” Mother said. “We shall come with you.”
Father didn’t dissent. He sipped his tea, looking perfectly at ease.
Tristan felt entirely the opposite. He was tempted to tell them Caroline’s identity now, but hesitated. There was no predicting what his mother would do, exactly. It had been clear she had somehow orchestrated Charles’s wedding, meddling in a way that led to him marrying a veritable stranger. Charles might love Marie now, but it only proved their mother would stop at nothing to see her sons settled.
He sipped his tea, suddenly feeling like he had made the right call in writing to his parents. If his mother would stop at nothing to see him married, he was glad to have her on his side.
Chapter Twenty-One
Mr. Fielding had spared no expense when it came to Kitty’s ball. The flowers were extravagant, the candles abundant, and the food overflowing and sumptuous. The floor had been chalked in an intricate design that was now smudged due to the dancers, and drinks circulated the ballroom without end.
Caroline stood beside her mama, taking in the elegance of the roses and the glittering chandelier. She searched the crowd of dancers for Kitty and James, anxious for her friend’s scheme to be completed. It was something she felt could have been accomplished without quite such a large audience, but Kitty felt the pressure of the event would be helpful, so that was that.
Caroline privately believed that Kitty desired the added drama her ball provided, but she kept the thought to herself. Anything she could do to help her brother find happiness would be time well spent.
“They look so elegant together,” Mama said quietly, herneck craning to watch the dancers. She flipped her fan open and fiddled with the tassel. “Do you think he cares for her?”
“James and Kitty?” Caroline asked, clarifying.
“Yes. They look so handsome together, don’t you think?”
Caroline found them on the floor in the middle of their waltz. Kitty’s face was tilted up toward James, her smile soft but warm. It was not simply a friendly expression, nor the look one would cast their flirt. Kitty’s expression was engaged, full of adoration.
James looked no different. Their feelings appeared to be equal in measure. Heavens, but Caroline hoped that was the case.
“Do you think he will offer for her?” Mama asked.
Given their financial situation? Caroline thought not, but hopefully Kitty would bring him around. “That is for anyone to guess.”
“And you,” Mama said, leaning closer. “You havetwomen dangling after you. Shall you accept—oh! Look who has arrived. Mr. and Mrs. Shepherd have come with Tristan.”
