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Chapter 4

Nicholas stood with Patience and Ottersby by the punch table. Patience sipped her punch as the three of them inspected the attendees of the Stafford ball. Nicholas had tried to bring the list of women to the Stafford's ball, and Ottersby hadn't seen a problem with the idea, but Patience had forbidden them to do so. That problem could have been solved by Ottersby not mentioning the list at all, but the two of them had an unhealthy habit of sharing everything.

Although, perhaps she was right on this score. If he or Ottersby dropped the list, or if someone had looked over their shoulders while they were perusing the young women listed there, that would've been very unfortunate, indeed. Perhaps Patience was right. At least in this one instance.

Nicholas slid closer to Patience. "Who is the young lady standing by the window in the rust-colored gown?" She was pleasant-looking and well-dressed, with not a stitch out of place.

She tipped her head up toward him. "I don't know."

"Ottersby?"

Ottersby shrugged as well.

Nicholas noticed a few members of Parliament with young ladies nearby. They could be daughters and, therefore, eligible matches for him, but they could also simply be friends. He had spent hours rehearsing and memorizing the most powerful men in London, but Nicholas hadn't thought to catalog or seek introductions to their daughters. And now that he had a list of them, he couldn't even put a face to more than one or two names.

Lord Nimbly was one of the few men who had treated Nicholas with camaraderie, and he was a well-respected viscount. Next to him stood a blonde woman in a blue gown. "What about the woman standing next to Lord Nimbly? Do either of you know her?"

They both leaned forward and almost simultaneously shook their heads.

"Do you know anyone here?"

Ottersby shrugged. "I know a few of the men, but for the most part, this ball is a bit too rich for my blood. The old me wouldn't have had an opportunity to come to something so well footed."

Patience stepped closer to Nicholas. "I attended almost no balls before marrying Anthony, and we honestly haven't been very social since the wedding. I'm afraid we aren't going to be much help."

Nicholas groaned. "I should have brought Mother. At least she likes to talk to people."

Patience gave a surprised laugh. "And let Mama know what you are planning? Impossible. She would choose a bride for you if you didn't find one quickly on your own. Are you prepared for that?"

"No, and it won't come to that. I'm perfectly capable of finding my own bride." He looked down his nose at Patience as if he were the stuffiest of men. "You may not know this since you haven't been very active in Town, but I am quite a catch."

Patience didn't seem to notice his haughty glance. His humor was usually lost on most people. But he wasn't going to dwell on the implications of that. Patience simply raised her brows. "The only eligible duke under fifty? I am certain you are, Nicholas, but choosing a wife should also be about who you want to spend time with, and that might take a bit more effort."

Nicholas waved Patience's comment aside. "I'm not worried. I generally seem to get on with most people without problem." Anyone would be preferable to Mama and her nearly constant singing. "Although, if pressed, I would prefer that she didn't sing."

Patience laughed. "Be careful what you wish for. You may end up with someone who cannot sing but manages to try every day."

"Very amusing, Patience," Nicholas said, low and slow. "I won't. Not with Ottersby's list to guide me."

Patience clicked her tongue. "Yes, because Anthony's list did such an amazing job for him."

Nicholas smiled. "It did. Look how happy the two of you are."

She raised an eyebrow at him. "I wasn't on his list, Nicholas. You know that. Plus, I'm not certain you should be putting so much weight in your ability to get along with anyone. You do remember that I lived with you and ended up running away."

Nicholas scoffed. That was her fault. Patience and her blasted pride. He was about to tell her as much when a woman coming into the ballroom caught his eye. She was clothed in a gown of pure white, cut and fitted by a master and simple in its elegance. There were no embellishments, and the sleeves were smaller than every other gown in the room. Her dress was a study of tastefulness that he rarely found at such gatherings. At balls, women typically strove to stand out with extra embellishments. Flowers, jewels, and even birds, at times, were used to make a dress more elaborate than those of the women around her.

This woman had done the opposite, and yet, the effect was what those other women had strived for. In the gown's simplicity, the woman wearing it shone. He tore his eyes away from her and cleared his throat. "Do either of you know the woman in white?"

He had pointed at the other young ladies or explained who they were with, but he didn't need to elaborate this time. Both Patience and Ottersby knew exactly of whom he was speaking.

Patience bounced. "I know her a little. Lady Marion Miles, daughter of Viscount Redding." She tipped her head so her mouth was near Ottersby's ear. "Anthony, based on the way my brother is ogling her, I hope you have her on the list."

Nicholas straightened his back. "I never ogle women." He made certain of it.

Patience patted his arm. "That is the truth. I think the only woman I've ever seen you take notice of was Miss Morgan, and that was for my sake. But, Nicholas, you are looking for a wife. It is probably time to start ogling—a little, at any case."

Nicholas scoffed. The woman, Lady Marion, was beautiful. He could appreciate that, in a calm and calculated way. He was not ogling. He was not being inappropriate. But Patience's words had him doubting his choice. Perhaps it was better to select someone who did not intrigue him. Someone he could court rationally without any sort of physical impediments. But now that he had mentioned her, he might as well follow through. Patience wouldn't rest until he did. "I suppose I should ask Lord Stafford for an introduction."

"That would be the next step," Ottersby agreed with a nod.

One step at a time. The thought of finding one person to share the rest of his life with made the couples around him fade. Every move of the woman in white was augmented. She might be the woman he was looking for. He ignored the slightly ill feeling in his stomach. If he did everything properly, what could go wrong? He had a plan: introduction, courtship, marriage. It was a system that had worked for countless other humans. There was no reason it shouldn't work for him.

He strode across the room to find Lord Stafford. It was time to take the first step.

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