She recalled calling him a brute, the way his smirk had held a knowing edge. Her fingers fluttered nervously, and she found herself fanning her cheeks a little faster.
Lady Grisham, of course, took the opportunity to entrust herself, Wilhelmina, and Elizabeth to the two newcomers.
Just like while they were watching the orchestra earlier that evening, his eyes wandered toward her. It was a brief glance, leaving too early, making her feel an inexplicable disappointment.
It seemed that the duke was eager to hold the older gentlemen’s attention.
Of course! What was Elizabeth thinking? A man of his station might have been amused by seeing a girl watching scandalous paintings but was most likely here due to business. He and his friend seemed to be backing each other at each turn, though she imagined seeing impatience in his half-smile.
Elizabeth did not claim to know anything much about the minds of men. However, she noticed that the Duke’s gaze kept drifting toward her. She met his eyes each time, and during each connection, she felt a flutter inside her, like an instrument strung too tightly.
Finally, he decided to address Elizabeth directly. “Lady Elizabeth. How did ye find tonight’s musicale?”
Her throat felt too tight. She didn’t know that the duke would be asking her a question in front of everyone else. Somehow, it felt like a test. She listened enough, but not how she normally would a performance. She was too aware of him behind her.
Everyone’s eyes were on her, including Lady Grisham’s. Elizabeth knew then that she should give a safe answer, but his gaze urged her to tell the truth.
“I found it engaging, Your Grace,” she replied, with a lift of her chin. “I especially loved the second movement. Some might find it too bold, but it was refreshing to hear something so vibrant after several languid waltzes.”
“Ah, indeed. I was wonderin’ if the conductor rushed the allegro a wee bit, but maybe haste is what’s called for in this sort of case.”
“The tempo was improper,” Peter said, frowning. “Novelty does not make good music. Finesse does.”
“Novelty.” The Duke seemed to savor the word while looking at Elizabeth. “I’ve quickly come to learn that London’s got little patience for it.”
“London must learn,” Elizabeth replied. “…I suppose.”
Elizabeth might have seemed to have backtracked, but she had already expressed what she needed to.
The Earl of Whitton chuckled. “I like that Lady Elizabeth is not afraid to tell the capital about her thoughts.”
“My sister is a sharp woman, but the ton does not always allow her to say what she means,” Wilhelmina interjected.
“Oh, we can tell she is, Lady Wilhelmina,” the Duke responded, “I can tell she kens fine whataestheticsmean. And she’ll let it rule how she sees the world, aye.”
Lady Grisham looked at Elizabeth and the Duke, and then she made her excuses to the surprise of the young women.
“Come, girls,” she said in a sickly-sweet tone. “We promised to greet the Duchess of Rokewood before leaving.” She nodded apologetically to the lords. “Forgive us, gentlemen.”
Elizabeth curtseyed. Before she left, though, the Duke caught her eye. Between the two of them, a whole conversation occurred.
Are ye content with how brazen ye were, then? Quite the display, if ye ask me.
Strangely, she could hear the words in her head with his thick, Scottish brogue.
But there was no time to investigate her auditory hallucinations because Lady Grisham was walking fast and expected them to follow her.
When they were out of the lords’ earshot, her stepmother let her pleasant mask slip away.
“Girls, you must trust my choices of suitors. It looks like you two are highly entertained by the likes of Lord Whitton and the Duke of Redmoor. Whitton is a notorious rake, if you still haven’t heard, and the Scottish duke is no better than him,” Lady Grisham said sharply. “You two will keep your distance from them. If respectable gentlemen realize you have been consorting with them, they will not pursue you in earnest. Again, keep away from libertines and Highlanders. Especiallyyou, dear Elizabeth. Those kinds of men do not suit your… gentle disposition.”
Elizabeth was right. Lady Grisham didn’t approve of how she’d been speaking with the duke. And Elizabeth couldn’t blame her stepmother entirely. There was something oddly familiar in the Scotsman’s tone, something that unsettled the careful composure Lady Grisham worked so hard to maintain.
Yet Elizabeth felt no regret.
Her pulse still quickened at the memory of exchanging words with a man like Alasdair McLoughan. To most, she seemed timid, too gentle, too awkward, but in that moment, she felt anything but.
“Uh, I think Elizabeth is safe from libertines and Highlanders, Mother,” Wilhelmina stepped forward. “But I know of something that isn’t safe. Have you heard of the Duchess of Ramsey’s diamond necklace?”