“I would not dishonor her,” he replied tensely.
The woman tipped her head in inquiry. “Wouldn’t you? Are you saying you intend to offer for her?”
Ralston flinched. Offer marriage? He couldn’t do that. Miss Dickson was not a possibility for him. His family—his father—his legacy had certain expectations of him.
“Do not look so shocked,” the lady continued. “You have danced with her, which is more than you’ve done with any other lady for years. People have begun to talk. And speculate. Once they’ve done that…”
Though she let her voice trail off, Ralston knew exactly what she was saying. Once rumors started in a certain direction and assumptions were made, it would be seen as a great insult for him not to declare himself. Then people would speculate even more. Miss Dickson’s reputation would be at risk. It might already be in question.
Frustration over the injustice of gossip and the endless social pressures of his station, Ralston tried to deny what the woman was saying, but he knew…
“Do you know why Miss Dickson came to London, my lord?”
The question surprised him. He considered avoiding it, but realized that this well-informed woman might actually have the answers he needed. “She came here for some sort of revenge,” he replied.
“Indeed,” her tone of voice suggested she was pleased by his response. “And do you know how she intends to achieve this revenge?”
He waited for her to supply the answer since she clearly intended to.
“Marriage. To a man who is wealthy enough and powerful enough to influence all of society.”
A dark suspicion formed but before it could fully solidify, Mrs. Dove-Lyon continued.
“Notyou, Lord Redington. If that’s what you’re thinking. She expressly said shedidn’twant you. But she still must find that husband if she is to succeed. I should make it clear that this plot means a great deal to her.”
“Why are you telling me this?”
The lady shrugged. “Oh, I reckoned you might benefit from greater insight into the lady. If she has not come to your summons these last few nights, I assume she has recommitted herself to her purpose. You would do best to respect that, I should think.”
“I appreciate the advice. Is that all?”
Though there was a distinct note of annoyance in his tone, the lady smiled wide behind her veil.
“I believe so. For now, anyway,” she added. “You may go.”
Rising stiffly to his feet, Ralston gave a courteous bow of his head before striding swiftly from the room. His mind whirled with the woman’s words. Revenge. Marriage. Wealth and power. She wanted those things while specifically stating she didn’t wanthim.
Ralston ignored the sharp twist in his core.
He would certainly be best served by heeding Mrs. Dove-Lyon’s none-too-subtle warning by staying far, far from Miss Dickson. The lady herself might be better off as well. If she truly wanted nothing more than to avenge whatever wrong she’d perceived, then he should leave her to it.
She’d also made it quite clear that he did not play into her plans. More than once.
But Ralston had never been very good at following other people’s advice when it came to sorting out a troubling issue. And a great deal of his conversation with Mrs. Dove-Lyon left him with more questions than answers.
Chapter Twenty
The next morning,Ralston received a summons. One he couldn’t ignore no matter how badly he may wish to.
The Duke of Lindley’s London home was located in the very heart of Mayfair. Though Ralston had not lived there since he’d been a young man, he had been there often enough for various family obligations, mainly to fetch Eleanor. His parents, however, had not been in residence at the house since their brief visit during the prior season. Though the duke held a prominent seat in the House of Lords, he did not apply himself much to politics or the progress of the nation. His focus was much more fiercely trained upon the needs of his family holdings, estates, assets, and legacy. It was a responsibility that took him all over Great Britain. And more often than not, Ralson’s mother, who had never been much of a social butterfly, chose to accompany her husband on his many travels.
It was still early and the neighborhood was quiet as Ralston walked from his carriage to the front door. He did not knock before entering yet the butler, Hughes, stood at perfect attention to greet him.
“Good morning, my lord.”
“Good morning. Is His Grace in the study?”
Hughes replied with a deep nod. “The duke and duchess arrived home last evening.”
