Chapter 14

CHAPTER FOURTEEN

“ L ady Barbara, might I say you are an absolute vision in this dress,” Kenneth Wood, the Viscount Gerville praised, bowing politely to her again. “I have never seen a color look so well on a lady, truly.”

Barbara laughed softly, folding her fan out to the proper position before she flicked it delicately. Her skin had begun to prickle, and the hairs on the back of her neck had stood on end the moment she saw Ambrose’s hungry gaze.

She had known that he would be there, as he had left her a note a day earlier saying that he was bringing someone for her to meet. But as Ambrose had come toward her, he did not walk like a man leading another man toward his future bride. He looked like an animal stalking toward its mate. It had taken everything in her to pull her focus from him and force her attention to her potential future husband.

Still, when he had approached, he spoke with charm and grace and made the introduction most formally and politely before dutifully turning his attention to his sister.

“I cannot thank you enough for your kind words, good sir,” Barbara replied in a genuinely sweet voice, bowing her head slightly. “And I must say, I so enjoy the blue of your suit this evening. Please, do tell me how we are so lucky to be blessed by your attendance this evening?”

The blush on Kenneth’s cheeks told her that all of her lessons were working, and she felt a genuine sense of accomplishment as she coaxed the viscount into speaking more about himself. However, as she did so, she could not help but occasionally raise her eyes toward her best friend and her brother. Each time she did, Ambrose was either looking at her or averting his eyes.

Questions regarding him once more flooded her mind, but she caught them before they grew too intense, and pulled her focus back to Kenneth just as he said, “And that is why I decided that while beautiful, I would never own a peacock myself.”

Laughter burst from Barbara’s lips, and before she could question whether it was an appropriate response or not, Kenneth was chuckling with her as his cheeks grew rosy. It was a silly thing to say, and she had no context for what it was said for, but his reaction to her laughter made her realize that she was giving her attention to the wrong man.

Putting Ambrose out of her mind, Barbara put all of her best efforts into the softly handsome viscount.

“Tell me more,” she implored, focusing all of her attention on him. “Of all of the animals in the world you could bring to Gerville, what would you pick?”

“Have you got that minute to talk now?” Duncan asked, appearing at Ambrose’s side.

“Of course, I do,” Ambrose quipped, keeping his eyes on the crowd below.

Though he was sure to track Helena, Lydia, and Alice’s movements every twenty seconds, his eyes always made their way back to Barbara and the viscount. They had been making one another laugh quite frequently, and the desire to know what was just so damned funny was burning a hole into him. Barbara was executing each lesson he had taught her perfectly. The charm, the enthusiasm, the grace—they all radiated from her as she utterly dazzled

“Listen, Ezra said that you are still looking into the fire,” Duncan said.

“Hmm?” Ambrose murmured, still looking at Barbara. “No, not really, just put some fresh eyes and ears out there, is all. Nothing too consuming.”

Duncan was silent for a while before he replied, “No, I suppose that is not what is consuming you at the moment. Though something certainly is.”

Ambrose slowly dragged his gaze away from Barbara and leveled his friend with a bored stare. “What has that fool been telling you?” he asked calmly.

He knew he could not tell Duncan much, especially since it benefitted Ezra to keep his side business from their friends as much as it did Ambrose.

“Just that you are not yourself,” Duncan said slowly, as if carefully choosing his words.

Ambrose could hear the well-meaning tone in his friend’s voice, but it was difficult to accept. As the oldest of the orphaned boys, he had been the big brother to all of them. Normally, it was him using such a tone with them, not the other way around.

“I assure you I am quite myself,” he replied, casting a glance first at Helena, and then at Barbara as soon as he confirmed the former’s safety.

“Well, maybe you are,” Duncan relented. “But maybe you are not. Perhaps you’re putting too much focus on others. Perhaps it is time you start looking for a wife.”

Ambrose pulled his full focus toward Duncan then, not willing to let such a subject be talked of a second longer. He put a hand on his friend’s shoulder and gave it a squeeze.

“Listen to me, mate, I cannot tell you how happy I am that you and Alice found each other. Your marriage is a thing of beauty, it really is. But I have too much to do to follow in your footsteps. I have Helena to think of first as well as a mess of other constantly rotating duties.”

Out of the corner of his eye, Ambrose caught the flash of Barbara’s gown and caught Kenneth taking her hand and leading her to the empty dance floor. He was not the only one who focused on the couple as the musicians slowly lifted their instruments, and as a hushed silence fell over the room, he stole a quick glance at Duncan and saw that even he was transfixed.

As the musicians chose a lively but romantic song to start, Ambrose watched as Barbara beautifully followed her male counterpart’s lead with each step. His lesson on touch had sunk in, and he witnessed how it improved her dancing as she moved like a nymph through water—graceful and fluid. Kenneth’s eyes, like everyone else’s, were glued to Barbara’s every perfectly executed movement, and when the song ended and the couple bowed to one another, loud applause filled the room.

“That was quite bold, was it not?” Duncan murmured as he clapped his hands. “To dance before dinner at another’s party?”

Ambrose was the only one who had kept his hands at his sides—heavy like dead weight.

“It is a bit unseemly,” he bit out, his eyes glued to Kenneth’s hands.

His gut churned with anger as he saw the way one cupped Barbara’s narrow waist and how the other so tenderly held her hand as he walked her toward Alice, Lydia, and Helena, all of whom were beaming from ear to ear.

“Still, rather impressive,” Duncan went on. “The dancing, I mean. I had no idea Barbara could move or look like that. It is all quite… drastic.”

Drastic. Not the word Ambrose would use.

His friend was right, Barbara had completely transformed from a spinster to the Season’s new prize. He should be proud, he realized, noticing the way Kenneth’s eyes remained on Barbara, but he was not. This was not the real Barbara. The one with a sharp, wicked tongue, an extensive wit, and an insouciance about her looks. These things that made her her were gone. And it was because he had stripped them from her.

“Pardon me, old friend,” Duncan said then, pulling Ambrose from his brooding thoughts. “I just saw Alice give the signal that it is time to make the dinner announcement. Let us gather in the smoke room afterward, yes?”

“Lady Barbara, might I ask, are you staying in the country this next week?” Kenneth asked.

His voice was warm, deep, and full of respect as he asked that question from across the dining room table.

Barbara blushed as she felt the eyes of Helena and Lydia—who were sitting on either side of her—land on her as they ate.

“I am, my lord,” she replied politely, setting down her knife and fork with great care. She caressed her fingers lightly over her napkin as Ambrose had taught her, picking it up not with force but simple persuasion to dab at the corners of her mouth. “My dear friends, the Duke and Duchess of Baxter, are hosting me. Are you staying in the country this week, my lord?”

Kenneth’s eyes warmed as she rewarded him with her interest, and he leaned toward her so subtly that she was sure he had not realized he had done it.

“I am, by chance,” he replied happily. “But I am staying in the quaintest nearby village for the evening, so my house may be readied. There is a beautiful bookstore not far from the tavern I am staying in. I was hoping you would honor me with a stroll among the shops, and then perhaps, if you would allow, I could purchase a novel of your choice from the bookshop.”

By her side, Helena let out a low but still audible gasp—no doubt from envy—and Barbara felt a genuine smile touch her lips. She batted her eyelashes—an act that was now barely more than an afterthought—as she wrapped her fingers around her wine glass and lifted it toward her lips.

“That is a very generous offer, my lord,” she replied coyly, letting her finger glide down the stem of the glass. She could tell by the way Kenneth’s eyes followed the movement that she had him transfixed. “But are you sure you want to extend such an offer after spending so little time with me? The night is not over yet.”

“Yes, and while I pray it would never end, I know that it unfortunately shall. When it does, I would like to be sure that I will be honored by your presence at the soonest possible moment.”

Though Barbara usually had to tamp down a shiver of disgust when men paid such intense compliments, Kenneth’s tone and gaze seemed so genuine that they made her soften. Oh so subtly, she shifted her view of Kenneth from prey to a truly amicable husband. Any gentleman would have asked for a walk, or to even call on her, but he had listened when she spoke briefly about her love for literature, and he was showing her that he had done so.

“I am sure my dear friend Lydia would not mind acting as my chaperone were I to go into the village tomorrow morning,” Barbara replied sweetly, then shifted her gaze to Lydia as she took a small sip of her wine.

Lydia quickly cleared her throat and smiled as she hurriedly dropped her utensils and wiped her mouth. Barbara thought it odd and comical that her normally prim friend was now the more clumsy of the two of them, and had to press her lips together tightly to stop her smile as Lydia replied a bit too excitedly, “I would be delighted. Absolutely delighted to do so. Please, just tell us when and where you wish us to meet you.”

Barbara felt a tingle run down her neck as she suddenly felt another set of eyes on her. The conversation around her faded into a murmur as she lifted her wine glass to her lips again and furtively gazed across the expanse of the long, rectangular formal dining table.

Ambrose’s dark blue eyes were fixed on her from across the table, four seats to her left. His entire body was rigid as everyone around him ate and talked, and the fork in his hand was bent slightly toward his whitening knuckles. The look on his face was unreadable, but it was set in stone.

Barbara felt her skin begin to heat, and her lower belly grew tight as their eyes met. He had been pleasant but aloof during his introduction of Kenneth, and, from anyone else’s point of view, his normal self. But she had seen something different. She had seen the way that he had paused when reaching for her hand, the way his eyes had darkened as he quickly pulled back and bowed with his hands behind his back instead. Then he had disappeared, leaving her with the man he had chosen for her.

Kenneth seemed a decent match so far, and she knew that since he was picked by Ambrose, he met all of the necessary requirements. It was clear by the dance, and now with the talk at dinner, that things were going more than well.

So why did Ambrose look so emotionless? So… impassive? Why was he not happy that his debt would soon be settled?

“If that would be all right with Lady Barbara, of course.”

Barbara snapped back to the conversation as she heard her name, and smiled softly back at Kenneth. “Of course, my lord,” she agreed.

Kenneth’s eyes sparkled with joy. “You would not mind another two dances with me, truly?” he asked.

Thankful for the hint he had just given her regarding the topic of conversation, Barbara quickly gathered herself.

“I do not see why not?” she replied, realizing that Helena and Lydia were watching her intently now. “After all, the official dancing had not started when we approached the dance floor, and no other couples joined us. My dance card remains empty, so why not allow two official slots?”

It was a bold move, one that could potentially send the gossip mill rumbling if Kenneth would not propose. But the joy in his eyes told her that she would not be sorry for pushing the one social boundary. He was, as Ambrose had written to her, looking for a wife, and if his attention was all on her, then it would only mean good things for her—and her father’s future.