“I’m turning over a new leaf.” He patted her hand where it lay on his forearm. “Your cousin Grey no longer joins me on my adventures, and neither does my friend Thornstock. So I’m shifting my priorities to a more respectable realm. I’ve even begun a novel, with Thorn’s encouragement. If I succeed in gaining a publisher for it, not to mention an audience, I may actually settle down and get married.”
“Not to me, I hope.”
He laughed heartily. Apparently men could laugh heartily without reproach. “Surely your mother would never approve of me as a suitor.”
“True.”
“But I must start somewhere, and you seem as good a place as any to begin practicing how to please a respectable lady.”
“You probably shouldn’t use me as an example of respectability. Mama claims I voice my opinion far too readily to be called that.”
“Well, I wouldn’t want to marry too respectable a lady,” he said, smirking at her. “I may be settling down, but I still prefer a bit of pepper in my fare, if you know what I mean.”
“I do, indeed. I like pepper myself.”
“I fear you won’t find much of that in Armitage.”
“You’d be surprised,” she muttered as she saw Sheridan take his leave of Flora.
Vanessa and Mr. Juncker had now reached her uncle. With a bow, Mr. Juncker headed off to find some other female for his foray into respectability.
She had scarcely joined the small group when someone came up behind her with all the stealth of a wolf on the hunt.
“Save the supper dance for me, will you?” the man whispered in her ear.
She jumped and turned to find Sheridan there. “Are you trying to give me heart failure?”
“Merely trying to secure you for supper.”
“I will see what I can do. If Mr. Juncker wants it—”
“You will damned well turn him down,” Sheridan muttered.
It took all her will to hide her delight. “And why would I do that? He is the man I’m pursuing, after all.”
Sheridan’s lips tightened. “Be that as it may, you don’t want to tip your hand too early or you’ll lose him.”
“That does make sense,” she said. “Very well, I’ll save the supper dance for you.”
“Good. Thank you.” He walked off.
My, my, but this party was going well so far. Two dances with Sheridan, a demonstration of his jealousy, and the gain of an unexpected ally in Mr. Juncker. What more could a woman ask for?
Uncle Noah noticed her standing on the outskirts of the small group. “There you are, my dear. Why are you not dancing?”
“I was, Uncle, but now I need punch. I’m parched, I swear.”
Her uncle laughed. “I’ll fetch you punch, but first I’d like to introduce the Duchess of Armitage.” He winked at Vanessa. “Your friend Sheridan’s mother.”
Vanessa had only met the famous Lydia Pryde Drake Wolfe once, at Grey’s wedding, and she’d barely had time to curtsy and smile at the duchess, much less converse. The woman had still been in mourning, after all. Meanwhile, Vanessa had spent most of the wedding breakfast dancing with Sheridan’s half brothers or chatting with him and his brother Heywood, since they couldn’t dance because they had also been in mourning.
But the mourning period had clearly ended even for the duchess, given that she was splendidly dressed in a white silk robe and petticoat, with a drapery of celestial blue organza fastened on one shoulder with a gold brooch. Even the woman’s fashionable turban was of the same shimmering organza, with two jaunty feathers to accentuate the ensemble. The duchess had come out of mourning with a vengeance.
“Actually, we’ve met,” Sheridan’s mother said, favoring Vanessa with a smile.
“Better and better,” Uncle Noah said. “That means the two of you can renew your acquaintance while I fetch you both some punch.”
Her uncle headed off on his mission. Before Vanessa could even speak, the rest of the small group melted away, some to go dance, some to find the card room, and a few to circle the ballroom in search of friends or acquaintances. That left Vanessa and the duchess entirely alone together.
“I’m honored that you remember me,” Vanessa said, not sure what else to say, and painfully conscious that she hoped to have this woman for a mother-in-law one day.
“Of course I remember you.” The duchess’s vibrant blue eyes searched Vanessa’s face. “How could I forget the young lady who was nearly engaged to my son Grey?”
Vanessa blushed, remembering how Mama had tried forcing Grey into marrying her. “That was a mistake in the newspaper, Duchess. It should have listed Beatrice.”
“So I’m told,” the duchess said with a wry smile. “And thankfully it was quickly corrected.”
“Thankfully indeed,” Vanessa said, a bit too heartily. “Otherwise I’d be married to a fellow who is more like a brother to me than a cousin. We both would have been miserable.”
The duchess regarded her most intently. “So you truly had no interest in Grey.”
“Not as a husband, no.”
“But perhaps my other bachelor son interests you? I saw Sheridan whisper in your ear.” The duchess fluttered her fan. “He thinks I don’t notice these things, but I do. Not for nothing have I spent the past year in mourning. When a woman isn’t allowed to indulge in lively social activities, she learns to pay more attention to the people around her. And to notice when her son is dancing with a particularly fetching female.”
Vanessa was at a loss as to what to say. “Forgive me, Duchess, but are you asking if my intentions toward Sheridan are honorable?”
Her tart reply made the duchess chuckle. “It’s hard to believe you are Cora’s daughter. She would never have posed such an entertaining question.” Her gaze sharpened on Vanessa. “If I were asking that, what would be your answer?”
“That you would have to see what happens. I can hardly know what my intentions are without knowing how the courtship will progress.”
“So it’s a courtship, is it?” the duchess asked.
With that pointed question still hanging in the air, Uncle Noah approached bearing two glasses of punch and handed them to the two ladies. Thank heaven. Vanessa had the feeling she’d just escaped a dissection by duchess. Next time she’d have to be better prepared.
If there was a next time. Vanessa drank deeply of her punch. The duchess appeared to have a vested interest in choosing Sheridan’s mate. And Vanessa couldn’t tell if the duchess approved of her or not.
At least Sheridan would support Vanessa’s claim that they’d been courting. After all, the courtship intended to make Juncker jealous had been his idea, not hers.
Her uncle looked from Vanessa’s face to the duchess’s. “Am I interrupting something?”
“Not in the least,” the duchess said, to Vanessa’s relief. The woman sipped her punch. “I should like to know, Sir Noah, how it is we’ve never met until tonight. You seem like just the sort of jovial gentleman whose company I enjoy.”
“My wife wasn’t fond of town,” he said. “Only recently did I begin making forays here again.”