Weston bowed again and watched Helena do the same.
“You said Charles was joining us for dinner, didn't you? Well, where is he? We shall start soon.”
Weston frowned, the confusion on his face growing by the minute.
What was his mother up to?
Chapter Thirteen
“Will your wife be joining us, my lord?” the Duke asked, watching Weston's feet continue to remain bolted to the floor.
Weston forced a smile. “Absolutely, your Grace”
“She has nothing doing anyway. Unless you count tending to what used to be a garden near the walls.”
Weston felt his heart drop. In that particular moment, it hit him like a heap of bricks. His mother had invited these people to make fun of his wife. He wondered how long he would have to listen to every snide remark and nasty comment before he would break.
A maid stepped into the drawing room and took a slight bow, her eyes fixed on Lady Beatrice.
“Dinner is ready.” She announced.
“Well, shall we?” Lady Beatrice called, rising from her chair. The others followed. As they headed to the dining hall, Helena turned to look at him. She couldn't take her eyes off of him. That would create an even more awkward situation. Instead, he threw her a polite smile. She did the same. He wondered just how much she knew about what was happening this evening. Was shealso part of those intending to make jest of his wife? He had not interacted much with Lady Helena. Most of their conversations have either been in ballrooms and dances. She did not appear to him as someone who would do such things. Perhaps he had judged her a bit too quickly.
“Food is not going to eat itself, Weston.”
Weston's eyes darted across the halls. Charles was walking right behind him. He had loosened his waistcoat and had a wary expression on his face.
“Do not indulge them, Weston. No matter what happens at dinner. Do not try to go rogue. It's exactly what your mother wants.”
Weston scoffed. He was not thinking about himself. He just realized he'd not been doing that.
He'd been thinking about Juliet. How this was all going to affect her.
“Do you hear me? Do not try to argue with anyone.” Charles continued.
“It is bad manners to keep the guests waiting like this. They're here to see you.” Beatrice called from the dining hall one more time. Charles gave Weston a reassuring pat on his back as they proceeded to the table. Wearing the strained smile on his face again, Charles acknowledged Lady Helena’s parents and went to find his seat.
“Lady Beatrice.” Charles called, pulling a chair. “You look younger with each passing day.”
“Thank you, Charles. Tell Imogene I will ride to see her soon. As you can see, I have been otherwise occupied.”
“Very well.” Charles responded.
“Where's Juliet?” Weston asked, looking around the table. Each person has a portion of food placed on plates before them. Right before him was an empty chair, saved for his wife. Beside the empty chair sat Helena. His mother had made the seating arrangements. This was deliberate.
“I already asked her maid to fetch her from her chambers. I wonder what is taking her so long. Last I remember, she has no child to attend to.”
Weston swallowed. He could feel Helena's gaze on him even before he turned to her. She had a worried expression on her face.
“You should start thinking of children, Lord Weston. Offspring will alleviate some of the scandal you are currently facing.” The Duke started once spoons started to clink against plates.
“That is true. Having children will probably make your wife gain back some of the respect she has lost.” The Duchess added.
Weston grabbed a fork and squeezed it as tight as he could. “I shall take your words under advisement, your Grace.”
His eyes darted towards Charles. The same wary expression he had given earlier rested on his face.
“Don't.” Charles mouthed.
