Mistress - Amanda Quick [91]
“They’re not the only ones who are unstable.” Marcus surveyed the vast theater. He ignored the crowded pit and the galleries and concentrated on the tiers of boxes. He spotted Iphiginia immediately.
She glowed in a classically simple white gown. White plumes wafted gracefully from her hair, which was parted in the middle and neatly coiled over her ears. A crystal necklace sparkled around her throat.
She was not alone in the box. Amelia sat on her left. As Marcus watched, the curtains behind the two women parted. Herbert Hoyt entered, dapper as always in a blue coat, paisley waistcoat, and pleated trousers. He held a glass of lemonade in each of his gloved hands.
Mrs. Dorchester lurched into conversation with the awkwardness of a clockwork toy. “Lovely weather we’re having, is it not, my lord?”
“Yes,” Marcus said.
“Juliana and I took a turn about the park this afternoon, didn’t we, Juliana?” Mrs. Dorchester continued with dogged determination.
“Yes, Mama.” Juliana clutched her fan as though she feared Marcus might reach out and snatch it from her. “It was quite pleasant.” She brightened. “We saw your brother, sir.”
“Did you?”
Juliana flinched at Marcus’s tone. Mrs. Dorchester gave her husband an urgent look.
Dorchester manfully attempted to carry his share of the burden of conversation. “I trust you are well, sir?”
“Very,” Marcus said.
“Excellent, excellent,” Dorchester said with artificial enthusiasm. “Glad to hear it.”
Marcus watched Iphiginia take a sip from the glass Hoyt had handed to her. “I am feeling in such remarkably good health, in fact, that I have decided to marry.”
A stunned silence greeted that remark.
Dorchester gaped. It took him several seconds to get his jaws closed. “Thought you’d determined not to remarry, sir. Thought you had a rule about it or some such thing.”
“I’ve changed my mind,” Marcus said. “A friend of mine has convinced me that some rules are made to be broken.”
“I see.” Dorchester collected himself. “Well, then. My heartiest congratulations. I say, this news will certainly cause a stir.”
Juliana glanced at her father and mother and then smiled tremulously at Marcus. “I wish you every happiness in your marriage, sir.”
Marcus raised one brow. “Thank you, Miss Dorchester.”
Mrs. Dorchester narrowed her beady eyes. “Will you be announcing the betrothal in the near future, my lord?”
“In the very near future,” Marcus assured her.
Dorchester scowled. “Who is the lucky young lady, if I may be so bold?”
“I am not at liberty to announce that yet. There are still a number of details to arrange. Settlements and the like. You understand, I’m certain.”
“Of course,” Dorchester said weakly. “Settlements. Very important.”
“Quite.” Marcus got to his feet. “Pray excuse me. I must be off. I find that I am very busy these days. Marriage plans are a great nuisance, I have discovered.”
“They are?” Mrs. Dorchester narrowed her eyes.
“Yes, indeed,” Marcus said. “One must completely redo one’s will, for example, in order to provide for one’s future wife and potential offspring.”
“Offspring?” Mrs. Dorchester repeated in a numb tone.
“One must do one’s duty when there is a tide involved,” Marcus reminded her. “And then there is the matter of adjusting the incomes of the other members of one’s family.”
“Adjusting them in what way?” Mrs. Dorchester asked swiftly.
“Downward, naturally,” Marcus said. “The family fortune must be concentrated in the hands of my heir in order to preserve and protect it.”
“I thought your brother was your heir, sir,” Dorchester said.
“Yes, well, that will change now that I’m going to marry, won’t it? With any luck I shall have a son of my own to inherit the title and the fortune.”
Mrs. Dorchester appeared shaken. “I see.”
“My brother will continue to receive a reasonable allowance, naturally. Just as he always has.” Marcus pushed aside the curtain and stepped out of the box. He turned back to smile at the three Dorchesters. “Unless, of course, he marries without my approval.”
“Beg pardon?” Dorchester looked stricken.