Chapter 22

22

S eated between two handsome young men, Tricia couldn't help but think of Lady Portia from The Ruby and how she pined for both Donovan and Nigel.

Scandalous indeed, and though her heart already belonged to Thomas, she couldn't help but think that having two such handsome gentlemen taking care of her during the meal was delightful.

She took a small bite of cod and brought it to her lips. It was delicate and creamy. She did adore all kinds of fish.

"May I refill your wine, Lady Patricia?" Lord Polk asked.

"Goodness, no," Tricia replied. "I haven't even tasted it yet. I only just now finished my champagne from the earl's toast."

"Don't be shy," Jonathan said. "The claret is excellent."

Tricia smiled and nodded, lifting her goblet and taking a drink. She didn't have much of a taste for wine. She found the claret to be a bit bitter, but then again what did she know? She swallowed and smiled again. "Quite lovely."

"Yes, it is good," Polk said. "Are you enjoying the cod?"

"Absolutely. I do enjoy fish so very much."

Tricia couldn't help stealing a glance at Thomas every now and then. He was deep in conversation with the lords and ladies at his table.

And no one knew…

Well, not exactly no one. Mr. Longbottom knew…and the Duchess of Lybrook herself.

The soreness had eased somewhat after Tricia took a warm bath.

And all she could think about was getting back into Thomas's bed.

No ball had been planned for this evening, but there would be a ball on the morrow to close out the party.

Footmen came through and cleared dishes. Tricia was beginning to feel full. Something she hadn't gotten used to since becoming a member of the upper crust were the giant meals peers served at their estates. No wonder so many of the older lords had become portly, and the older ladies quite curvy.

Her own mother, Lady Clementine, was still as vibrant and beautiful as she must have been when she was a young lady of the gentry.

Then again, her family had rarely had the chance to overeat. Cameron had always been long and lean, but he had put on some weight since he and Rose married. That weight was in muscle, and he was now about the same in size as Thomas.

The footmen brought the next course, the entrée, which was roast beef carved tableside by Mr. Montague, the Ashford's butler. Tricia watched as he stood next to the earl himself carving, and then the footmen served each guest. She inhaled the savory fragrance of the beef.

Her table was next, and once each serving was carved, a footman covered each slice in mushroom gravy and accompanied it with glazed carrots, roasted parsnips, and puffy and golden Yorkshire pudding.

It smelled delicious, and once everyone at the table was served, Tricia took a bite of the savory beef. Yes, she was full from the previous course, but the beef was so delicious, she knew she would clear her plate once again.

"What do you think of your first season?" Lord Polk asked her.

Tricia swallowed the beef she had just finished chewing. "I haven't had much time to think about it, my lord. The true festivities don't begin until next month in London."

"Yes, but this is the unofficial first ball of the season. Do you have your eye on anyone?"

What a forward thing to ask her! She nearly dropped her jaw.

"Yes," Jonathan said. "I believe Polk and I are in a bit of a competition for your affections." He leaned in, lowering his voice. "Tell us, which one of us do you prefer?"

Indeed, they had put her in an awkward position. Was it even proper for a gentleman to ask such a question? Tricia smiled daintily, wiping her lips with her napkin. "I haven't made any decisions yet, gentlemen. But I'm flattered."

Her words were a lie, of course. She had made a decision long ago, and now she just had to get the object of her affection to fall in love with her.

Thomas would do his duty if she pressed him. All she had to do was go running to Cameron. Oh, he would be angry. At her, but more so at Thomas.

She would not do that, and she knew she could trust Lily to keep her secret.

She looked over at Lily and the duke, who were seated at Thomas's table. Lily was deep in conversation with her husband, and the affection they held for each other was abundantly clear. The little touches, the knowing smiles, the lingering gazes at each other…

That was what she wanted with Thomas.

What Lily had with the duke.

What Rose had with Cameron.

What her own mother had had with her father, even after his brain damage.

That was what she yearned for, and that was what she deserved.

"Perhaps the two of us could take you on a stroll after the meal," Lord Polk said. "If your dear mother is available, of course, to act as chaperone."

A stroll with both of them? Tricia's thoughts flew again to Lady Portia in The Ruby . Was that even proper? But they were gentlemen of the peerage. At least Polk was. Surely they knew what was proper and what wasn't.

"Perhaps," Tricia said. "That could be quite lovely."

"Or, if your mother's not available, perhaps your sister-in-law the countess. Or the duchess herself."

Tricia's cheeks warmed. The duchess knew well enough that Tricia didn't want a walk with these two, no matter how handsome and gentlemanly they seemed.

The only person she wanted to stroll with was Thomas, but he was the host of this affair, so he would most likely be quite busy after dinner. He'd head into the smoking room with the gentlemen, drink cognac, smoke a cigar or a pipe, and try to solve all the problems of the monarchy, she was sure.

Tricia had only eaten about half her food when the footmen came by to clear the dishes once more. Soon the salad course was served, a refreshing mixture of greens, cucumbers, radishes, and cherry tomatoes dressed lightly with vinaigrette.

The purpose of the salad course, Tricia had learned since her introduction to the peerage, was to cleanse the palate before the dessert. But Tricia enjoyed greens for their own sake. Cucumbers, radishes, and cherry tomatoes had grown in the gardens on the Lybrook Estate. She enjoyed the crunch of the cucumbers, the bite of the radishes, and the citrusy tang of the vinaigrette. As much as she did enjoy a good salad, though, the greens could not compare to the roast beef or the salmon.

"I did not know you were part rabbit, my lady," Polk said to her.

She eyed both Lord Polk's and Jonathan's plates. Neither had touched their greens.

"Do you not care for salad, gentlemen?"

"I'm not a fan of anything green," Jonathan said.

"The asparagus served with the fish was one thing," Lord Polk agreed. "But salad? Thank you, but no."

Tricia craned her neck to look at the rest of the plates at her table. Nearly all of the gentlemen left the salad untouched, and most of the ladies as well, with the exception of her mother and her sister.

What a waste! This food would be returned to the kitchens and then thrown out. Perhaps given to the hogs or the cattle.

Tricia did abhor the waste of foodstuffs. Her family had never gone hungry during their tenancy on the Lybrook Estate, but there were some times when their bellies were not quite pleasantly full.

"Have you ever tried salad?" Tricia asked the gentlemen.

"Can't say that I have," Jonathan said.

"Only as a lad," was Lord Polk's response. "My nanny insisted, but once I came of age, never again."

"Does the waste of foodstuffs not bother you?"

Polk sniffed. "When it comes to rodent food, no, not at all."

Tricia shook her head. "The two of you don't know what's good. Try it, why don't you?"

"I don't think so," Jonathan said.

"Please"—she batted her eyes—"for me?"

"Perhaps…" Jonathan's eyes held a gleam. "If you join us for that stroll later."

"Very well. If we can find a suitable chaperone, I shall join you both on a stroll. But only if you both eat every bit of salad on your plate."

"You drive a hard bargain, my lady," Jonathan said.

"Those are my terms."

Jonathan picked up his salad utensil and moved the lettuce leaves around on his plate. Finally, he speared a cherry tomato and popped it in his mouth.

"Easy way out, Jameson," Polk said. "Everyone likes tomatoes."

"And that won't get you anything anyway," she said. "You must each finish every bit on your plate."

"Fine," Polk groused. He speared a cucumber and a lettuce leaf and shoved it into his mouth.

"And?" Tricia said.

Polk swallowed. "Tastes like dirt," he said.

She raised her eyebrows. "And you eat dirt often?"

"Not since I was a lad, again. Everybody eats dirt at some point."

Tricia chuckled. "Try to enjoy the freshness of the greens. They taste of the earth. That's what makes them so special."

Jonathan took a bite of his, chewed, swallowed. "Not half bad actually, Polk. With the vinaigrette and all."

"Speak for yourself." Polk took another bite, grousing again.

However, while making the most perfectly disgusting faces, both gentlemen did finish the salads.

Which meant…Tricia had to live up to her end of the agreement. But only if a suitable chaperone was found. How would it look though, for two different gentlemen to be escorting her?

She chuckled to herself. Who cared, anyway? The only man she wanted was happy to take her to bed but had basically told her he would marry her without love.

The footman who was assigned to their portion of the table cleared the dishes, raising his eyebrows at the three empty salad plates in front of Tricia, Lord Polk, and Jonathan.

"I see we've surprised you, eh, lad?" Jonathan said.

The footman simply bowed.

Tricia couldn't help giggling. The gentlemen weren't used to eating such roughage, and they would feel the effects in the loo on the morrow.

Of course, a lady shouldn't be thinking of such things.

"What exactly is so funny, my lady?" Polk asked.

"Nothing, nothing." She wiped her lips daintily. "You shall find out tomorrow."

"Well, then I look forward to it," Jonathan said. "I love a good laugh."

And that only made Tricia laugh harder.