Garrett paused to think for a moment before answering. It pleased him to discover that he would not, after all, be subject to banal conversations for the entirety of the meal. The woman seemed to be genuinely interested.
“Importing and exporting. Certain goods we cannot match here in England—cheese, brandy, and certain types of fabric. A strong demand for many British-made products has yet been unmet abroad. I endeavor to meet the needs at both ends.” Garrett was proud of his accomplishments, but he answered her softly, not wanting to draw attention to himself.
Lady Sheffield spent the rest of the dinner asking thoughtful questions about his life and accomplishments. Which products did he export? Did he lose many shipments at sea? Were pirates a problem for him? Where had he, himself, travelled? She did not discuss herself, theton, or any of the latest gossip.
As the last course arrived, Garrett realized that Lady Sheffield was, in all actuality, in a very sticky social situation herself. After all, it had been her niece who had married Lady Natalie’s—her goddaughter’s—former betrothed. Likely, she tempered her pleasure for her niece in deference to the Spencers’ pride. He found himself regarding the older woman with genuine respect for her courage and steady composure.
And occasionally, Garrett found himself glancing toward the other end of the long table, where Lady Natalie sat.
Next to the Duke of Monfort.
So this was how the winds blew. The earl must have already decided to replace one duke with another. But Monfort? Why would Ravensdale bark up that particular tree? Monfort had expressed no interest whatsoever in remarrying. His first wife, along with their two children, had died in a tragic accident three years earlier. They had been skating upon a lake which appeared frozen solid. The duke was watching them from the front steps of the manor several hundred yards away. The icemade a loud clapping sound and cracked beneath the duchess. The children ran toward her.
He had been unable to save any of them.
Word was that the duke’s heart froze that day, along with his family.
Monfortwas nota good match for Lady Natalie. Garrett watched her painstaking attempts to converse with the man. The duke appeared unmoved by her efforts, answering her in curt, one-word pronouncements. When he did condescend to direct conversation her way, he did so in a patronizing manner. What thehellwas Ravensdale thinking? His daughter deserved much better than that!
And then Lady Natalie’s gaze drifted down the length of the table. Garrett caught her gaze and held it, mesmerized. Not until blue eyes shuttered and broke the connection did he realize Lady Sheffield had been watching him. A mischievous smile danced across the older woman’s lips.
RELIEF SWEPT THROUGH
Relief swept through Natalie when her mother finally stood, signaling the ladies to remove themselves to the drawing room. Natalie was happy to abandon the duke, and all the others, to their port. God save her from her father and his dukes!
In an effort to appease her parents, Natalie had maintained a stilted conversation with Monfort throughout each carefully prepared course. Talking with the Duke of Monfort, however, had been an utter waste of time and energy. It was akin to wading through a thick Irish bog.
Nonetheless, she had made a valiant effort. Guilt still plagued her for the embarrassment she’d brought upon her father. And for ruining his plans. He’dsowanted the Duke of Cortland for a son-in-law. For her papa’s sake, she’d forced herself to make an honest attempt at being pleasant.
But enough was enough! At her mother’s signal, Natalie bolted out of her chair to make her escape through the large open doors.
Passing Hawthorne, uncomfortably aware of his presence, she tried not to look at him but failed miserably. She hadcaught him watching her with that smoldering stare of his more than once during dinner. Recalling it, she met his eyes as she passed and found herself with an insane impulse to reach out and touch him. What on earth was the matter with her? Clasping both hands behind her back, she followed the other ladies out of the room.
She did not, however, follow them into the drawing room. Instead, she slipped downstairs and out through the front door.
In the country, far from the smog of London, stars sparkled and the moon shone brightly. The sense of freedom beckoned her.
In spite of Stone and Roman’s return, in spite of the excitement she felt around Lord Hawthorne, she continued to feel sorry for herself. She wandered onto one of the paths that circled the lake and attempted to process this restlessness that had taken root inside of her. She did not know how to make it go away.
A broken engagement ought not to force a lady to withdraw from society in shame. Most especially when the former groom, a duke no less, was free to gallivant off with his lover—now his duchess—on the honeymoon trip that she, Natalie, had planned. Frustration gnawed at her as she entered the wooded path.
Her imposed exile gave her far too much time to spend in her own company. It allowed her too much time to think, to doubt, and to yearn. For what, she knew not. Natalie grabbed at a branch that dared dangle in her path and ruthlessly twisted it until it snapped from the tree.
She did not regret her decision to break off her betrothal. She did not! For she’d freed Cortland so he could marry his true love. How could there be any regret in that? Had Natalie and the duke gone ahead with their wedding as originally planned, both would have grown to resent each othersomething fierce.Thatsituation would have been more regrettable by far.
Natalie wanted a husband. She wanted children. But she wanted to actuallyloveher husband. And she wanted her husband to love her in return.
She wrinkled her face as she deliberated.
How did one know love without experiencing intimacy with a person, with a man? During her two Seasons in London, mingling with theton, she often witnessed husbands and wives who not only appeared to be indifferent to one another, but displayed outright disgust in each other’s company. There were but a few exceptions to this standard. Which vexed her to no end. How did one go about finding “true love”?
Not by following the rules, that was for certain. She’d been a good girl. She’d followed all the strictures of society and look where that had landed her.
What a boon it would be if a lady could try her hand at being a rake. She laughed out loud at the thought.
No longer betrothed, she would have enjoyed celebrating her freedom with some flirting.Ha, like that is going to happen.Living as a virtual prisoner, there was no chance for that.
Logically, she knew society’s stipulations protected young women like herself. All these ridiculous rules—arranged companions, chaperones, even the dragons at Almacks—existed to safeguard both her person and her reputation. And her family was relentless in all of this. She ought not to resent them so much. Shelovedthem.
