“Thank you, Duke,” Dentonshire replied with a brief smile. “You are as gracious a host as your father. You do remind me of him. You know, your father helped me through some very dark times many years ago.”
“Oh, did he?” Maximilian glanced sidelong at his companion. “May I inquire what he did that helped you?”
Dentonshire half shrugged. “I thought you knew the story. When our little daughter was born, she was taken from us.”
“An illness?”
“No. Our nursemaid stole her in the middle of the night. Neither of them has been found since.”
Chapter 31
Augusta glared at her son.
“You are a complete incompetent.”
Wilmot flushed to his hairline, glancing around the dining hall, empty save for the two of them, as though seeking escape. “I am doing the best I can, Mother.”
“How are you supposed to advance in this world if you do not do as I tell you?” she snapped. “As your mother, I expect you to do as I say, Wilmot. I know what is best for you, and I want you to marry a girl who will bring you wealth and titles; one who can stand beside you in society.”
“I know, Mother.”
Augusta sniffed. “Unlike your idiot half-brother, who lets himself be distracted by a mere, low-class maid. Hmmpf. How ridiculous is that, I ask you?”
Catching sight of Lady Helena walking in the doorway, then hesitating at the sight of them, Augusta smiled. “Come in, child, come in.”
Lady Helena curtseyed, clearly self-conscious and nervous by the tentative smile on her face and the way she clutched her skirts with both hands, obeyed. “Your Grace. My Lord.”
“Where are your parents, Lady Helena?” August asked as the girl came in and took a spot further down the table from her usual place.
“They should be here soon, Your Grace,” she said, licking her lips. “They are waiting to walk down with the Duke and Duchess of Dentonshire.”
“Such wonderful people,” Augusta trilled. “Our other guests should be arriving over the course of the next few days for the ball.” She tittered a short laugh. “It is going to be a trifle chaotic here.”
“Yes, of course.”
Smiling fondly at Wilmot, Augusta lowered her voice. “My Wilmot here is a lovely dancer, are you not, son?”
“Ah, yes, I am.” His eyes flicked to Lady Helena before returning to stare down at the table. “I have had many lessons.”
“You should dance with Wilmot at the ball, my dear,” Augusta went on. “Son, be sure to ask Lady Helena to dance? I know you will have so many partners to choose from, as you are quite the romantic catch.”
“Certainly.” Wilmot beamed at Lady Helena, who offered him a weak smile in return.
“That would be lovely, My Lord,” she murmured. “I will look forward to it.”
“I will as well, Lady Helena.”
“I justadorewatching young people form attachments,” Augusta cooed and smiled at the two of them. “I will watch you both with enthusiasm at the ball.”
Beaming as the two young people eyed one another with tentative warm expressions, Augusta glanced up as Maximilian entered the hall, on time for once. Her irritation rose to replace the pleasure she found with Wilmot and Lady Helena as he offered her a simple nod of greeting. Lady Helena rose to curtsey, her smile for Augusta’s stepson warmer and more genuine than the one she gave Wilmot.
“Ah, so good of you to join us, Maximilian,” she said, the added words “on time” implied in her tone.
His brow rose in the fashion that never failed to make her want to scratch his eyes out. “Of course, Duchess. It is luncheon, is it not?”
As he sat at the head of the table, the Duke and Duchess of Dentonshire arrived, with the Earl and Countess of Whitington on their heels. “Our welcome guests,” she said, gesturing for them to come in and sit. “Are you refreshed from your travel, Duke and Duchess? I have had the cook prepare special dishes in your honor.”
“How very kind of you,” the Duchess replied. “You are a gracious hostess.”
