Free Jo Beverley - [Rogue ] by An Unwilling Bride Page B

the journey. For half an hour Beth found herself skillfully drawn into conversation and entertained by amusing and relevant anecdotes. It was terribly hard not to like this charming lady with her French accent and warm smile.
    The duke played his part in the conversation, and Beth noticed how the duchess even drew the marquess in with charming implacability. No plodding topics here, no awkward silences. Beth could not help but be impressed by their proficiency.
    In due course the meal was announced, and the duke offered Beth his arm while the marquess escorted his mother. It was only one short corridor to the dining room, but it was a moment of privacy.
    "Now that you have met the marquess, Elizabeth," asked the duke, "are you more reconciled to your fate?"
    "I am as reconciled as he, Your Grace."
    The duke met her cool look with a touch of surprise. "That is a pity, Miss Armitage. He is a man, and proud. I can rule him, but he does not take it gently."
    "I am a woman, and proud, Your Grace," retorted Beth. "I do not take it gently either."
    "Very well," he said, irritatingly unimpressed. "But remember, Elizabeth, your rancor is against me and me you cannot hurt."
    "I do not seek to hurt anyone, Your Grace," said Beth with a hint of desperation. "I strive merely to keep myself intact."
    "This is the family dining room," said the duke, smoothly switching subjects as they entered a large room hung with tapestries. The ceiling was painted with half-naked deities.
    The family dining room, thought Beth dryly. The dining table was of a size to comfortably seat eight, but there were three other sections against one wall, and the room would certainly hold a "family" of twenty. The duke and duchess took their places at either end and the marquess and Beth sat facing each other at the sides. Service was a la Russe with a footman behind each diner and other servants bringing in dishes and taking away remains. Beth thought it utterly ridiculous.
    Seeing clearly how it would be, she took only tiny portions of the many courses and still had trouble towards the end of the meal. She noticed that the marquess ate more heartily, but the duke and duchess also ate little and passed many courses by entirely. What on earth was the point of all this? It was obvious that everyone would have been more suited by a simple meal in privacy.
    The proficient conversation recommenced, but now the talk was of the war, exhibiting depth of knowledge of international affairs and considerable shrewdness from all parties. Beth reflected that the servants were gaining a first-class education as they performed their duties, but it was as if it were all a performance put on for an audience.
    The marquess and his parents must do this every day of their lives. The thought horrified Beth, and she found her tongue frozen. For a little while she managed to hold her silence but then she was implacably woven in again by easy questions directed her way. Short of the worst kind of ill manners, she had no choice but to play her part.
    Despite the superficial ease and graciousness, Beth could feel the room pressing in on her, the words and occasional laughter squeezing at her temples. Soon she was going to say something unpardonable, and she didn't want to. Mere rudeness would not set her free, and she hated to think of the servants tittering below stairs about that silly little body who didn't know how to behave in a big house.
    Was she to perform this ritual every day for the rest of her life? She would go mad.

 
     
     
    Chapter 5

     
    When the duchess rose to take her back to the small drawing room, Beth felt some relief. Once they were settled with the tea tray before them, the duchess dismissed the servants.
    She handed Beth tea in an exquisite china cup. "You find this hard, Elizabeth," she said as a simple statement.
    "I find it unendurable. Why do you dine in such state?"
    The duchess smiled. "It does not seem so to us, I suppose. It is just the family."
    "But what