“Henry, my dear,” she asked, narrowing her eyes at her son, “may I have a word with you, in private?”
The Duke followed his mother to the adjacent room so the two could have a conversation in private.
“Is something wrong?” he asked in a careful manner. “What is so urgent that you have plucked me away from the ballroom to have a conversation in private?”
“Can you explain to me why Lady Joanna came looking for me as if I had called for her? She told me that you sent her.” Modesty raised an eyebrow at her son, demanding an answer.
“Oh,” the Duke murmured. “I merely thought that you would be able to keep her occupied with some conversation for the remainder of the night.”
“My dear, that is supposed to be your job. You are meant to utilize this time to get to know her better.”
The Duke fell silent. He did not want to disappoint his mother by telling her that he had nothing to talk to Joanna about.
“Is there a problem between the two of you?” Modesty pressed. “You may tell me if there is, and I will seek to fix it.”
“I wouldn’t say that there is a problem,” the Duke finally admitted. “It is just that I do not know what to speak to her about. We had a dance together, and that was pleasant. But beyond that, she appears to me as a stranger.”
Modesty’s face softened, and she reached out to pat her son on the shoulder comfortingly. “Of course, she is a stranger to you now. The two of you have barely spent any time together. However, Lady Joanna is the perfect fit for you.”
“What makes you say that?”
“Lady Joanna comes from an esteemed family and possesses impeccable manners. She is well-versed in the ways of high society, and she is everything a lady ought to be,” she explained.
The Duke’s brows furrowed slightly, and a flicker of conflict crossed his features. Once again, he found himself drawing comparisons with Deborah, who had a spirited nature and a certain unconventional charm that drew him in.
“I have no doubt that Lady Joanna possesses all the qualities fitting for a duchess.” He sighed. “However, I just wish it was easier to converse with her. She replies in short sentences whenever I try to speak with her.”
“As a lady should,” his mother clipped.
“But shouldn’t conversation flow freely between the two of us?” he asked, voicing his concerns out loud in front of his mother for the first time. “If we are to spend the rest of our days together, the first thing that should come naturally is conversation.”
Modesty pursed her lips, seeming confused by her son’s words. “It cannot be that awkward,” she said, hopeful for any sort of validation.
“Perhaps it is not.” The Duke sighed. “I had a conversation with Emma prior to this, and she made me believe that things ought to feel natural at the beginning.”
“That is fitting for Emma.” His mother nodded. “For she has always had grand ideas when it comes to love and romance. But as the only son, you have always valued different things in a partner. You should not let Emma’s opinions trouble you too much.”
“But what about natural chemistry?” he asked. “Does that not account for anything?”
The Duke surprised himself with his own words. Since when did he begin to sound like Emma?
“Chemistry?” Modesty scoffed, looking at her son suspiciously. “What has gotten into you? I have never seen you care about abstract concepts like chemistry.”
Modesty seemed equally surprised by her son’s sudden shift in demeanor, watching him intently.
“Mother, you must excuse me,” the Duke said in an urgent tone, “I need some time by myself.”
Without waiting for a response, he hurried out of the room, leaving his mother standing there with a mixture of confusion and bewilderment on her face.
He did not know what had gotten into him suddenly, just that he felt overwhelmed by his emotions and needed time alone until he sorted his thoughts out.
He dashed over to his study, closing the door behind him. Finally, he was alone with his thoughts.
The Duke took a seat in the dimly lit study, his face bearing the weight of contemplation, and his heartbeat racing as if he had just run across the estate. Taking a deep breath to calm himself down, he absentmindedly traced his fingers along the patterns on his desk.
He had never felt this way before. His mind flashed back to the memory of seeing Deborah dance with another man, and he felt a pang of jealousy once again.
He wondered if the two were still talking, and if they were getting along. Worse still, he wondered if they had gotten along too well and if their acquaintance would soon turn into a deeper connection.
