Page 17 of A Duke in Autumn

“That is exactly why I’m here in Bath. I find myself remarkably uninspired by the usual ‘gentlemanly’ pursuits of late.”

The Dowager Duchess raised an eyebrow at this declaration.

“I see – then what does interest you, Your Grace?”

His eyes flicked to Eugenia again, and her awareness of the solid strength of him, so close to her on the couch, doubled.

“Quiet. The chance to indulge in rather blunt and improper conversation with my Aunt, whose wit seems to sharpen, the older she gets. The chance to explore the shops of the town, without my every step being reported in one scandal sheet or another, on a daily basis. The chance to meet young ladies, without feeling like a prize stallion at Tattersall’s, being assessed for my lineage. All of that and more interests me, and all of that, currently, I can find in Bath, but not in London, or at Oakthorpe Grange.”

At his mention of meeting young ladies, Eugenia almost winced, for her mother’s face took on a pleased expression, and the look she cast in Eugenia’s direction made it clear that she thought she should take full advantage of his stated intent. Eugenia looked down, feeling her cheeks redden again. Little did her mother know! Mother would never expect Eugenia to have allowed him to take her out into the privacy of the space beyond the ballroom at the Assembly Rooms, or to have put herself in a position to have met him, unchaperoned, on the streets, or, for that matter, to have provided him the opportunity to see her bare legs dangling in a stream. Yet she had done all of that.

“Well! That makes you a most unusual man, Oakthorpe. I must agree with you, on the matter of Lady Bellinghaugh – she is a most entertaining conversationalist. I had not considered the matter of being reported in the scandal sheets, for we spend little time in London. But I see your point.”

He sipped his tea again, then turned slightly on his seat to more face Eugenia.

“But enough of me. Are you enjoying your Autumn in Bath, Lady Eugenia? For I, equally, would have thought that Bath did not really offer much that a young lady might wish, with so few of the ton in residence. Have you found the shops here to your taste?”

His eyes sparkled as he spoke, and she knew that he had asked that specific question intentionally. He meant to make her lie, to step outside the bounds of good behaviour, again - for she could not admit to her mother that she had been about the town without her knowledge. The man was insufferable! She took a deep breath, and settled her face into her most charming smile. She would choose her words carefully.

“Indeed, I have not seen very much of the town at all, Your Grace, beyond the Assembly Rooms and the area close to them,” that was true, for the modiste’s shop was not far from the Assembly Rooms, “but Lady Annet informs me that there are a number of excellent bookshops, modistes and purveyors of ribbons, bonnets and the like. She has suggested an excursion to visit them.”

All of which was true – it was simply the timing which was not as she had implied. She met his eyes boldly, waiting for his reaction. He graced her with a brilliant smile, which lit up his face, and made him seem even more handsome. Her pulse raced. Would he reveal her indiscretions?

“I am sure that would be most enjoyable. I believe that there are a few Balls planned for the coming weeks, as well – and every lady that I have ever met seems to find that a Ball requires new items.”

So, it seemed that he was not going to reveal what he had seen. Relief rushed through her. But that dangerous smile remained on his face, and she suddenly wished that she could make him smile often. It was such an odd thought that it shocked her.

“I am not quite so devoted to fripperies, Your Grace, but I will admit that I find quality fashion interesting. It is so important to be dressed in one’s own distinctive style, which should be elegant, and not overdone. I do not wish to look exactly like every other woman at an event.”

Her mother gave her a slightly sharp look, for it was rare for Eugenia to express such a definitive opinion, but, as the words were simply the expression of an opinion which her mother shared, nothing was said. Oakthorpe inclined his head, the smile developing a wry twist to it, which she did not understand.

“How very wise of you, Lady Eugenia. I must admit, I have often looked across a ballroom, and felt that all of the gowns worn by the younger ladies might almost have been identical, so uninspired was their design. But to be distinctive, to stand out amongst the crowd, without being overdone or tawdry – that is a talent which few women have – or perhaps it is the modistes who are uninspired in their designs?”

His expression was open, innocent, but a quiver of almost fear ran through her – he could not know of her secret obsession with designing gowns, could he? Of course he could not – what was she thinking?

“Perhaps it is, Your Grace, although one must, of course, allow that the idea of young ladies not wearing strong colours is also limiting.”

Her mother gave her another look, this one almost stern. This man had the most dreadful effect on her! In his presence, she said and did things which she would never otherwise consider doing or saying. His eyes sparkled with mischief. Surely, he had pursued this line of conversation only because, when he had met them in the street, Lady Annet had mentioned the modiste – there could be no other reason for it.

“That is true, my Lady. I have often wondered where that dictate came from. It seems to me that there is no particular reason to so restrict the wearing of colours – although, I must admit, some people’s taste in colour is… dubious.”

The Dowager Duchess turned her stern expression on the Duke.

“Now, now Oakthorpe, I must take you to task on this matter. If young ladies were given a completely open choice of colour, many of them would end up looking like gypsies! As they move from being children to being ladies, they must learn to moderate their childish desire for flashy brightness, and develop taste and elegance. It takes maturity to carry off a strong colour well, and even colours of a moderate nature can look quite terrible on the wrong person. Pastels are the safest, most flattering choice for nearly all young women.”

“Perhaps. Or perhaps young ladies should simply be better educated on matters of colour and style, earlier? As a man, of course, my opinion here is biased, somewhat, as colour can at times add to a woman’s beauty significantly, if well used.”

The Dowager Duchess regarded him with what Eugenia knew was annoyance, but her many years of being gracious dictated her response.

“I fear that we must disagree on the matter, Oakthorpe. More tea?”

The subject of conversation was changed, to a discussion of the theatre, and recent plays, but Eugenia found herself unable to concentrate. Instead, her mind replayed his words, and insidiously, the feeling grew stronger that he had, very specifically, intended to provoke her. He was beyond annoying! Yet… she was glad of his presence, and found herself wondering when she would next see him.

Her reactions confused her, and she put those thoughts firmly aside. Soon, they rose, and he bid them farewell, much to her relief. But the warmth from where he had taken her hand as he bowed at his departure stayed with her for the rest of the afternoon.

~~~~~

Eugenia decided, the next morning, that she should ensure that an excursion into the shops of the town with Lady Annet happened very soon, with her mother’s knowledge. That way, it was far less likely that her previous adventure would be discovered. So, after she had broken her fast, she sought her mother out to ask.