Who Wants to Marry a Duke - Sabrina Jeffries Page 0,107
said and gestured to Vanessa to move over so Sheridan could sit between them. “Vanessa was just saying she would love your opinion on it.”
When Sheridan focused his gorgeous green eyes on her, Vanessa pasted a flirtatious smile to her face. “Nonsense, Mama. I already know his opinion.”
His expression didn’t change one whit. It exhibited a perfect blend of boredom and nonchalance as he took the seat between her and her mother. “Oh? And what might that be?”
“That the shenanigans of Felix and his friends are ridiculous. That you don’t find such frivolity entertaining in the least.”
“If you say so.” He shrugged. “Honestly, I have no opinion whatsoever.”
“That’s absurd,” Vanessa persisted. “You always have an opinion. And generally, it’s contrary to everyone else’s. Why, I once heard you tell the Secretary of War that Napoleon was a masterful strategist who would win against us if we didn’t recognize it and act accordingly.”
“That wasn’t an opinion; it was the truth.” Turning to stare her down, he said, “Just because the man is our enemy doesn’t mean we should assume he’s stupid. Greater men than our Secretary of War have made that mistake, to their detriment.”
“And what would you know about military strategy?”
“More than you, I would imagine. You may not realize it, but Father trained me from an early age to follow in his footsteps in Britain’s diplomatic service.”
Mama snorted. “I’m sure he was relieved when you became his heir to the dukedom instead. What a fortuitous event that was.”
Sheridan shifted his attention to Vanessa’s mother. “I’m not sure he would call the death of his brother fortuitous.” As if realizing that Mama might take offense at that, he softened his words. “Personally, I’d have preferred a post abroad over inheriting the dukedom, but that wasn’t meant to be.”
Mama lifted an eyebrow. “You would have been happy to live outside of England all of your life as some low envoy?”
“I wasn’t born in England, Lady Eustace. So if I’d had the chance to live the remainder of my days in Prussia, for example, I would have been perfectly content.”
“But surely you would have missed entertainments like this or hunting house parties or our glittering balls,” Mama said.
Uncle Theo snorted. “I’m sure they have those in Prussia, too, eh, Duke?”
“But not peopled by Englishmen,” her mother persisted. “And those Prussians are not to be trusted.”
Vanessa stifled a groan. “Do forgive my mother, Sheridan. She finds all foreigners suspect.”
Sheridan ignored her. “I will say, Lady Eustace, that the house parties in Berlin paled beside those my mother always describes. Prussian house parties were orderly events, with every activity scheduled. Whereas my mother says that her first husband’s affairs were madcap and not the least scheduled. Everyone had differing plans for activities, and no one consulted with anyone else concerning those plans.”
“Exactly,” Mama said, brightening. “That’s how they were indeed. We did as we pleased in those days. None of this ‘Oh, the young gentlemen must be appeased’ nonsense. We enjoyed ourselves however we could.”
“I suppose that left plenty of time for guests to roam the estate and explore a bit,” Sheridan said.
“And have assignations,” her uncle added, slyly.
Mama swatted her brother with her reticule. “No one was having assignations, Theo. I was newly married and not about to jeopardize my marriage for any fellow. And my husband wasn’t there.” She glanced at Vanessa and colored. “Not that he would have done such a thing either.”
It was all Vanessa could do not to roll her eyes. How could Mama think that Vanessa hadn’t noticed Papa’s many payments to ladies through the years? Vanessa had done the books for him from the time she was old enough to know what an account book was. Papa had been woefully bad at managing money. “Wasn’t that the house party where—”
“Grey’s father died at that house party,” Sheridan drawled, without even glancing at her. “How did the guests feel about that, Lady Eustace? It must have lowered their spirits dramatically.”
“Well, it did indeed. Although Lydia kept his illness quiet until she couldn’t anymore. Besides—”
A boy came out onto the stage and began a comic introduction to the second act. It should have ended all conversation but her mother continued whispering to Sheridan and Sheridan to her, at least until the action of the play began.
Then Sheridan leaned back in his chair and stretched his legs, unwittingly drawing Vanessa’s attention to his fine physique. The man had the best-crafted calves she’d ever seen, not to mention a chest as broad as a pugilist’s and clearly capable of any test of strength. As if that weren’t enough to tempt a young lady, his hair . . . oh, she must not even think of those glorious ash-brown curls. It made her want to run her fingers through it, a possibility that clearly escaped him, since he continued to whisper only to her mother and ignore Vanessa completely.
Like a balloon deflating, she felt the air go out of her joy. He was here to see—to talk with—Mama. Vanessa couldn’t understand why, but the point was he wasn’t here to be with her. She must get him to converse with her, do anything that might prove he noticed her.
Using Mama’s polemoscope, Vanessa surveyed the boxes nearby, racking her brain for something to say to Sheridan that might get his attention. Then she spotted Mr. Juncker, who was clearly getting up to leave his box.