“…so, after about three weeks there, I returned and immediately, the change in the weather surprised me,” Alexander concluded his story of his trip to Spain, much to the delight of Phyllis’ father.
“Phyllis, my dear, you’ve always wanted to go there!” her father pointed out, as if it were a done deal.
“Why yes, I did,” Phyllis smiled.
She didn’t add that Spain was only one of a myriad of countries she wanted to visit. That comment would not have worked in favor of their charade, so she kept quiet. A silent smile spoke more than a million words ever could.
“But do tell me about the food there,” the earl asked curiously. “Is it as spicy as they say?”
“To be quite honest…” Alexander’s voice trailed off as he spoke.
Phyllis was looking at him, but she wasn’t really listening. There was no need to. With her eyes that reflected a feigned longing, she played her part with practiced ease. The subtle gestures, a touch of a hand or a lingering gaze, all contributed to the illusion they were weaving. Alexander too, wore the mask of a smitten suitor all too well, his expressions crafted to mirror the image they wished to present.
Their audience observed the spectacle with varying degrees of interest and curiosity. Phyllis’ father looked on with a mixture of satisfaction and approval. In his mind, things were truly going according to his plan. However, Joyce knew the truth, and she would occasionally send a worried glance in Phyllis’ direction, but Phyllis only smiled at her reassuringly. After all, there was no reason for them to believe that things would not end as they had planned them to. It was all simple and straightforward. Joyce would marry her beloved, and Phyllis would be left devastated by the duke. And that would be the end.
At a moment when her father turned to Joyce and focused on her, exchanging a few words, Phyllis couldn’t help but probe, allowing her curiosity to get the better of her.
“Your Grace, you speak of some business that has forced you out of your secluded home and into the busy streets of London?” she asked playfully.
The purpose of this question was twofold. She wanted to show both her father and the duke that she was interested in his affairs, but at the same time, it was beneficial for her father to learn more about it. She thought he would give her a succinct response and then focus his attention on her father, but to her surprise, his eyes sparkled with genuine excitement, and for a moment, the carefully crafted veneer cracked, revealing a man passionate about his responsibilities.
“Miss St. Clair, I am engaged in a new business venture that holds great promise for my dukedom. It could bring prosperity not only to the estate but also to those who rely on its success.”
Phyllis had to admit that she was surprised by the sincerity in his voice. “Your concern for the well-being of your estate and its inhabitants is truly commendable.”
Alexander, momentarily letting go of the act, smiled more warmly than she had ever seen him before. “Beneath the titles and societal expectations, we are all the same, just individuals with dreams and responsibilities. I, myself, believe in leading by example and ensuring the welfare of those entrusted to my care.”
The exchange, though steeped in the theatricality of their situation, held an unexpected authenticity. Phyllis found herself contemplating the complexities of their connection, realizing that perhaps there was more to the duke than met the eye. The unguarded moment lingered in the air, leaving her momentarily exposed to the genuine emotions that lay beneath their charade.
Phyllis, with a spark of enthusiasm, asked, “Your Grace, do you envision this venture making a significant impact on the local economy? My father has a keen interest in investments, and your insights could be invaluable to him.”
Alexander immediately responded. “I believe this endeavor has much potential.”
This was where her father interjected. “Your Grace, if the prospects are as promising as you claim them to be, I would certainly be interested in exploring the possibility of investment. A venture that aligns with both prosperity and social responsibility is a rare find.”
Alexander, seemingly pleased with the receptiveness, nodded. “Lord St. Clair, your interest is most welcome. I can provide you with the necessary details so you yourself might be able to assess the investment’s viability.”
“Please, do,” the earl responded, as the conversation continued with Alexander offering a deeper insight into his business venture which revolved around progressive farming techniques to enhance both productivity and sustainability.
“Our aim is not to disrupt the harmonious coexistence with the land but to enhance it. The integration of new techniques serves as a tool, not a replacement for the wisdom passed down through generations,” Alexander concluded.
The earl continued to probe into the financial aspect. “Your Grace, it sounds promising, but what kind of returns do you anticipate, and what risks should potential investors consider?”
Alexander, displaying a shrewd understanding of the economic landscape, outlined projected returns and risk mitigation strategies. He emphasized the potential benefits not only for investors but for the community at large, illustrating a vision where prosperity and responsible stewardship went hand in hand.
The earl seemed to ponder it for a few moments, then he remembered something. “It is time for the annual Lord and Lady Weatherby’s ball. Everyone will be there, including some of my closest friends and acquaintances, who might be equally interested in this investment opportunity.”
The duke’s eyes widened in hope. “Do you think it is possible to discuss things further there?”
The earl smiled. “I am counting on it.”
Phyllis could see genuine joy on Alexander’s face, and she knew this was not part of their charade. This was an honest feeling of happiness, relief that the answer to his prayers was close and obtainable. Unable to take her eyes off him, she allowed her gaze to linger on him as only a paramour would.
“I trust then you will be gracing us with your presence at Lord and Lady Weatherby’s ball?” Phyllis asked with a glimmer of anticipation in her eyes.
“Well, it seems I have to be there, Miss St. Clair,” he replied a bit mischievously.
She couldn’t tell why exactly he had to be there. Was it her father’s hopeful words of introducing him to more potential investors or was there something more?
