The Duke’s Darling Debutante by Maggie Dallen

8

The air in the Claremonts’ drawing room was unbearably hot and stuffy. The conversation amongst the guests was dull, bordering on tedious.

But Tabetha was determined to enjoy herself. After all, the dinner party might have been boring her to tears, but at least it gave her a respite from thinking about a certain duke.

"Oh yes, I do enjoy needlework." Tabetha managed to utter this lie through a smile that was beginning to hurt her cheeks.

Out of the corner of her eye, Tabetha caught Clarissa’s look of wide-eyed disbelief. “I had no idea you’d become so proficient with a needle,” her imp of a sister murmured sweetly. “Why, last I recall, you’d pricked your own fingers more than the actual—”

“I should love to see your handiwork one day, Mrs. Claremont.” Tabetha spoke loudly over her youngest sister.

Fortunately, Mrs. Claremont was hard of hearing, and her smile had that wistful air of someone who wasn’t listening to a blessed word of this achingly tedious conversation.

“Will you excuse us? I believe our sister is calling,” Tabetha said as she steered Clarissa away from yet another stilted conversation.

The dinner itself promised to be even less stimulating as Tabetha would likely be seated next to one of the Claremont boys. They weren’t officially boys, of course. They were full-grown men—older than Darius, even. But there was something utterly boyish in their demeanor. Immature might have been going too far, but...not by much.

Tabetha winced at the memory of the limericks the eldest had insisted on telling during calling hours the day before. And his brother had been even worse with his horrid poetry.

“Where is that sister of ours?” Clarissa asked as they made a leisurely turn about the room, pretending to be engrossed in a discussion with Tabetha in order to avoid being dragged into conversation with the other guests. All the while, she cast furtive glances to find Mariah.

“Over there,” Tabetha said, nodding toward an alcove that was overrun with foliage.

“Hiding in the plants again,” Clarissa said with a little tsk. “We should have known.”

Tabetha sighed. “We really ought to do something to help her overcome her shyness.”

Clarissa’s answering hmmph had Tabetha turning to face her. “What’s that supposed to mean?”

Clarissa arched her brows. “It means Mariah isn’t the one I’m worried about. At least, not at this particular moment.”

Tabetha turned to stare straight ahead. “I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

Clarissa’s sigh was filled with exasperation. “Tabetha, you don’t have to pretend that nothing happened.”

Tabetha shrugged, feigning indifference. “Nothing did happen.”

“Mmhmm.” Clarissa managed to imbue the word with a heavy dose of doubt.

“It was a misunderstanding, that’s all,” Tabetha said. It wasn’t so much a lie as an understatement. Was it a misunderstanding? Yes. She’d clearly misunderstood his intentions from the very beginning.

Had that misunderstanding turned her world topsy-turvy and left her heart feeling cracked and fragile as though it might shatter in a strong breeze?

Also yes.

But she wasn’t disappointed. Oh no. Just...crushed. Heartbroken.

She swallowed down a surge of silly, mawkish tears. She barely knew the man. She had no business being so overwrought. Which was why tonight she was determined to enjoy herself.

She pasted another brilliant smile on her lips and held her chin high as she surveyed the room. There were no eligible young men here other than the Claremont boys. Everyone else was Mrs. Claremont’s age or older. Tabetha wondered if the dearth of young, eligible men was because everyone who was anyone was still at the Marquess of Arundel’s house party or if Mrs. Claremont hadn’t wanted competition for her boys.

Even as ill-suited to society as they were, any of the Earl of Darling’s sisters would be a good match for the Claremont sons. Sir Claremont was not a member of the peerage, though he was a baronet with a considerable fortune. But most important of all, Mrs. Claremont had been a friend to Evelyn’s mother, which was why the earl and his wife had accepted the invitation.

So now here they were. On their best behavior and trying not to stare at the clock to count down the minutes until they could leave.

Or at least, that’s what Tabetha was doing as she led Clarissa toward Mariah’s hiding spot. Clarissa was quiet just a little too long, and so her sudden outburst came as no surprise.

“I just think you should give him a chance to explain,” Clarissa said.

Give who a chance? The words were on the tip of her tongue, but one glance at Clarissa and Tabetha knew her clever little sister wouldn’t allow her to avoid this conversation through ignorance. So instead, she shrugged. “There’s nothing for him to say—”

“You don’t know that,” Clarissa said. “You haven’t given him the opportunity to share his side.”

“I don’t wish to give him a chance,” she said.

“He deserves to be heard, at the very least.”

Tabetha pressed her lips together tightly as they passed Evelyn, who was engrossed in a conversation with an elderly man about herbal remedies for gout.

“It’s not like you to be a coward, Tabetha,” Clarissa said after they’d passed.

The words stung, and she flashed her sister an irritated glare, but her response was tempered by this swell of emotion she’d been fighting for the last two days.

How could Clarissa not see? She didn’t want to hear the duke’s explanations. Because if she had to hear him say the words aloud, she wouldn't be able to bear it.

“What are you afraid of, Tabetha?” Clarissa’s voice was gentler, and uncharacteristically soft.

“I’m not afraid.” Liar. Her own conscience called her out for that fib. She heaved a sigh. “Oh, all right. I suppose I am a little afraid.”

“Of what?”

She took a deep breath. “Of getting hurt.” Any more than I already have.

“Oh, Tabetha.” Clarissa squeezed her arm. “But what if he truly cares about you?”

Hope flickered before Tabetha stomped it out. She should never have gotten her hopes up in the first place. She’d known from the start that it led to a dangerous path, and yet she’d followed it willingly.

Such a fool. So quick to see what she wanted to see, when in reality, the duke was just what she’d always suspected...kind.

Kind to a fault.

So kind he’d fooled even her into believing that he truly cared about her. So kind that she’d taken his words of encouragement to be words of love.

She closed her eyes as her heart twisted in her chest. Such a silly fool.

She opened her eyes and forced a brilliant smile, hoping she might fool herself into believing she was happy.

“Tabetha,” Clarissa continued, clearly not impressed nor fooled by the beaming smile aimed her way. “I just wish you would give him a chance to explain—”

“Why?” she interrupted. Guilt nagged at her the more Clarissa spoke. She wasn’t entirely proud of her actions when the duke had arrived the day before, and Clarissa’s words only made her feel worse.

“Why?” Clarissa repeated. “Because I saw the two of you together.” She made a tsking sound of dismay and impatience. “I was watching you both the whole time and do you know what I saw?”

Tabetha shook her head, torn between wanting to hear the answer and dreading it.

“I saw a man in love,” Clarissa said.

Tabetha stopped short, blinking at her sister in shock. “What?”

Clarissa shrugged. “I’m only saying what I saw.”

Love.The word wrapped around Tabetha’s heart and squeezed. Before she knew it, those tears that had been threatening started to well and she pulled her arm out of Clarissa’s grip with a gasp, spinning around to face the wall as she blinked furiously.

“Tabby?” Clarissa’s use of her childhood nickname made her sister’s gentle tone all the more sweet. “What is it?”

“Nothing, just…” She gave her head a shake. How to explain that by trying to be helpful, her sister had managed to make her feel a hundred times worse.

Love. The very word made her want to weep. Not that she’d been so very foolish as to fall in love with the duke. Of course she hadn’t. Because that would be the absolute worst thing she could do.

“I didn’t mean to upset you,” Clarissa said.

“I know,” Tabetha said, trying her best to muster another smile as she turned back. “It’s not your fault. I’m overly sentimental, that’s all. I don’t know what’s come over me.”

Love.

The word wouldn’t quit echoing in her skull.

“It’s just that the way the duke looked at you,” Clarissa started, her eyes wide and hopeful. “I thought…”

Tabetha cut her off with a shake of her head. “We were wrong, Clarissa. We misinterpreted his kindness for something more. But I won’t make the same mistake twice.”

Clarissa looked like she might protest, but Tabetha continued with a bright tone. “On a happier note, his plan worked splendidly.” Her smile made her cheeks ache but she refused to let it falter. She would be happy and enjoy this evening, even if it killed her. “I have no lack of suitors, and I’m certain there must be one tolerable match amongst them.”

“A tolerable match?” Clarissa wrinkled her nose. “How romantic.”

Tabetha ignored that. “I’ll find my match, and then it will be your turn. Yours and Mariah’s.”

“I can hardly wait,” Clarissa deadpanned.

Tabetha laughed. “You have time yet.”

Clarissa widened her eyes. “And you shouldn’t have to settle when you so clearly have feelings for the duke.”

Tabetha took a deep breath and let it out with a sigh. “Clarissa, please. Could we stop talking about the duke for just one night?” Her smile was rueful as she glanced around the room and spotted the Claremont brothers watching them with eager eyes. “This might not be my idea of a wonderful evening, but my one consolation is that he will not be here.”

“Oh.” Clarissa bit her lip, her gaze dropping hastily.

“Oh...what?” Suspicion had her leaning in, trying to catch her sister’s eye.

“Oh nothing,” Clarissa said. “You’re referring to His Grace, of course. That’s the he who will not be in attendance?”

Tabetha frowned as her sister shifted again. “Clarissa?” Her mind raced, but no matter how she looked at it, it was impossible to imagine the high and mighty Duke of Walton would grace a small, intimate dinner party thrown by an elderly baronet.

She’d spoken to Mrs. Claremont only last week about the guests who were to be invited, and Tabetha felt sure she would have remembered if he were on the list.

She said as much now, and Clarissa’s gaze moved about the room guiltily. “Yes, well,” Clarissa mumbled. “He is a duke.”

“And?” Tabetha’s heart began to pound. “What does that have to do with it?”

Clarissa shrugged. “I just mean, if he wished to attend, I’m certain he’d be welcome, now wouldn’t he? Because he’s a duke. No one would say no to a duke.”

“Clarissa, you’re babbling. And you’re not making any sense.” Tabetha crossed her arms with a frown. “Let me rephrase. Why would the Duke of Walton wish to attend?”

Clarissa blinked at her, her eyes far too wide to be innocent. “Er, perhaps you’d better speak to Darius.”

“What does Darius have to do with this?”

Clarissa winced. “He’s the one who told the duke you’d be here.”

Tabetha gasped. She picked up her pace to get to her brother who was on the same side of the room as Mariah, though he was not behind the ferns but in front.

She had no doubt he wished he could join Mariah in hiding, but they all knew Evelyn wouldn’t allow it.

“He’s only trying to help,” Clarissa said from behind her as she chased after her.

Tabetha slowed down as they drew closer, reason replacing panic. “Just because he knows I’ll be here doesn’t mean he’d actually come.”

“He’d come if he’s in love with you.” Clarissa blinked in the face of Tabetha’s glare. “What?” she asked, her gaze going wide with feigned innocence.

“You are not helping,” Tabetha snapped.

They reached Darius and Tabetha did not dance around the point. Glowering up at her brother, her arms crossed over her chest. “Did you tell the duke we would be here tonight?”

“Yes.” Darius’s gaze was fixed on the door as he answered her.

Tabetha huffed. “Why did you do that?”

He glanced over at her. “Why wouldn’t I? Is our attendance here tonight a secret?”

Clarissa did a poor job of stifling a laugh, and Tabetha shot her a glare in response.

“Sorry,” Clarissa murmured.

“I can’t imagine that he’ll actually come,” Tabetha said, though she was talking more to herself than to her siblings.

Darius grimaced as he continued to stare at the door where new guests were pouring in. “Honestly, Tabetha, the duke’s arrival is the least of my concerns.”

She and Clarissa followed his gaze to see an older gray-haired man enter, his nose so high it seemed as though he were trying to sniff the ceiling. A younger man was at his side, and he looked no less proud with his ramrod straight posture and a look of disdain on his hard features.

“Who’s that?” Clarissa asked.

“Ainsworths,” Darius muttered. One name and it held a world of meaning.

“But…” Tabetha frowned. “I thought Miss Charlotte and her family were at the Marquess of Arundel’s house party?”

“They likely are,” Evelyn said, coming to join their little party. “But this is Miss Charlotte’s cousin, Leopold Ainsworth, The Viscount of Ware.” Evelyn clasped her hands. “An heir to an earldom.”

“He’s...very handsome,” Tabetha admitted.

Clarissa’s nose crinkled in distaste. “And he clearly knows it.”

“That’s certainly true,” Evelyn agreed.

The young man was striking with his shortly cropped black hair, dark brows, and even darker eyes. But while undeniably attractive, his demeanor was hardly welcoming. There was arrogance in his bearing, and when his gaze flitted across the room and landed on the Earl of Darling and his family—it was filled with derision

Tabetha stiffened, and she felt the others around her do the same.

Evelyn placed a hand on Darius’s arm. “Your friends are handling the matter, dear. There’s no need for you and him to discuss it.”

Darius gave a short nod. “I won’t mention it if he doesn’t.”

Evelyn sighed, but they all knew it was the best they could hope for from a man who was prone to hitting first and asking questions later.

“Well, perhaps he’s not as unreasonable as his cousin,” Tabetha offered.

Clarissa’s brows drew together. “I wouldn’t call Charlotte unreasonable. More like unbearable.”

Tabetha stifled a laugh as her brother rolled his eyes. “I wasn’t referring to Charlotte, Clarissa. I was talking about the other cousin.”

“Ah,” Clarissa said. “Major Ainsworth.”

A dark cloud seemed to fall over the family at the mention of the entitled British officer who’d killed their second cousin Thomas, who had been the next in line for the Darling earldom—and also Darius’s closest friend.

“As if it isn’t bad enough that their fool of a cousin murdered ours,” Clarissa muttered. “But then they have the gall to spread rumors that Darius was the true culprit?”

Tabetha shushed her. “Not now, Clarissa.”

Evelyn shifted so she was blocking their stares, putting an end to the heated staring contest between the two families. “As uncomfortable as this might be, I implore you to behave.” Her gaze darted up meaningfully to catch her husband’s. “All of you.”

Darius grunted his agreement, and Tabetha and her sister promised to keep their mouths shut.

With all the attention on the addition of the Ainsworths to the party, the duke’s arrival nearly went unnoticed.

Nearly.

Her family might not have taken note, but Tabetha couldn’t have missed his presence if she’d tried. Her whole body seemed to know the moment he stepped foot into the room, as if some part of her were attuned to him.

When his dark gaze landed on her, she...well, she panicked. There was no other word for the way her heart leapt into a frantic rhythm and her belly churned with nerves. Clarissa and Evelyn were talking amongst themselves, Darius was working hard to not glare at the Ainsworths, and Tabetha...ran.

Not far, of course. It wasn’t as though there were many places where she could run. But she hadn’t spent a lifetime watching Darius and Mariah hide without learning a thing or two.

“Oh, hullo there.” Her voice was breathless as she slid into the alcove behind the ferns.

Mariah blinked in surprise. “What are you doing?”

“Hmm?” Tabetha arched her brows, resisting the urge to lean out and catch a glimpse of the duke.

Had he seen her run away? Had he watched her hide?

Oh drat. This wasn’t how she’d wanted their next interaction to go. She’d had a plan for how well she would behave the next time she saw him—cool, aloof, and unerringly correct.

And now here she stood. Behind the potted ferns.

“Tabetha, is everything all right?” Mariah asked.

“Of course. I was just checking on you, that’s all.” Tabetha pressed her lips together and held her breath.

She’d never been terribly good at lying, and she rarely tried when it came to her sisters. Particularly this sister. Mariah knew her far too well to fall for her fibs.

If Mariah had chided her or called her out for being a ridiculous ninny, Tabetha might have been able to maintain some dignity. But no. Mariah had to go and be sweet and understanding.

“He’s here, isn’t he?” Her beautiful younger sister said gently.

Tabetha’s lips quivered, her heart thudded painfully, and her hands shook as she clasped them together. She didn’t bother to deny it. What would be the point? “I’m not ready to face him,” she said instead.

Mariah’s gaze grew unbearably tender. Of all the sisters, she resembled their mother the most. All soft lines and gentle words. Even her pale blonde hair and creamy skin were the same, and were she not hiding all the time, she would undoubtedly be declared a diamond of the first water.

“Tabetha,” she said now, her voice knowing and sweet.

“Yes?”

“You know I love you dearly, but…you should not be back here with me.”

Tabetha blinked. “Are you kicking me out of your hiding spot?”

Mariah flinched. “In a manner of speaking...yes.”

Tabetha’s eyes widened. “But—”

Mariah reached a hand out and touched her cheek in a gesture that was decidedly maternal. “No buts, dear. You are many things, Tabetha Rutland, but you are not a coward.”

“Yes, but I...I…”

“You are hiding because you have feelings for him,” Mariah said simply.

Tabetha sighed. “Yes.”

“But you cannot avoid him forever, and you owe it to you both to hear what he has to say,” she said. Mariah cast a rueful look around their tiny confines. “I am the one who hides, but you…” She shook her head. “This isn't you. And I’d be doing you a disservice if I didn’t remind you of who you are.”

“And who is that?”

Mariah smiled. “You are honest and kind, and you have the biggest heart of anyone I know.”

Tabetha sniffed. “Thank you.”

“It’s not praise, it’s honesty. And if the duke doesn’t see how wonderful you are, then you will find someone who appreciates you the way he ought.”

Her heart ached at the thought of another. She didn’t want another. She wanted him. But if she allowed herself the chance to hope again and discovered she was wrong once more...

Mariah interrupted her thoughts. “But you will not know how the duke feels unless you face him.” She made a sweeping motion with her hands as she shooed Tabetha out the way she’d come in.

Another jolt of panic had Tabetha searching for a reason why she might stay hidden, even though she knew quite well that her sister spoke the truth.

Before she could come up with an excuse, however, she heard a familiar male voice behind her. “Pardon me, ladies. Is there room in here for one more?”