Chapter 17
Everyone desires to rise in status. For the daughter of a viscount, the position of Duchess was an excessive station. Among the successive Duchesses of Windberg, not a single one had hailed from a viscount’s family.
Jared picked up his wine glass and cast his gaze toward the woman once more. The daughter of Viscount Andover was engaged in conversation with the Princess seated at the seat of honor. Her expression as she dealt with a rival was so gentle that no trace of pretense could be felt.
Therefore, he had no choice but to admit it. Lady Andover was a perfect lady.
Her poise, social skills, and refinement were beyond reproach. She was the daughter of an aristocrat, raised and educated without lack. She was moderately materialistic and shrewd, but that was well within the acceptable average. At the very least, she possessed the discretion and tact not to let those traits show on the surface.
If she is at that level.
Jared murmured to himself as he brought the wine glass to his lips.
He had done this several times already since the moment he decided to observe her. He was trying to persuade himself while suppressing his antipathy. If this was an unavoidable task, he had to choose the best option.
If she is at that level, it might not be utterly terrible.
Holding a sip of wine in his mouth, he continued to observe the woman. He saw the face that smiled softly, the eyes that listened intently, and the lips curved in a polite smile. Dressed in a cream-colored gown, she blended well with the centerpiece on the table. The lush, blooming cream roses seemed like an extension of the woman herself.
A flower raised in a greenhouse. An ornament for the banquet table. The epitome of an elegant aristocrat.
If she is at that level.
The moment he thought it again, Josephine, at the seat of honor, turned her gaze toward him. Jared naturally shifted his eyes and met hers. The seat of honor was at the end of the table, the furthest from the head but directly facing it.
“I have heard that Your Grace plays the piano exceptionally well. Is that true?”
At the Princess’s question, Jared softened his expression. The Princess was the only person here for whom he felt any form of goodwill. This young lady was the only one who didn’t try too hard to catch his eye and who seemed to be truly enjoying the occasion.
“Miss Hayes. May I ask which person offered such exaggerated praise about me?”
“It was my first cousin once removed, Mr. Andrew Hayes. He is a professor at the Imperial University’s Faculty of Law; are you not acquainted?”
“Of course. Professor Hayes was my mentor.”
“Right? He said he was quite surprised by Your Grace’s piano performance.”
Josephine smiled broadly, revealing her even teeth. The dimples that formed in both cheeks whenever she smiled were charming.
“I am curious to know just how great your skills are. Could you play a piece for us after the banquet?”
At the Princess’s request, the other ladies showed interest. Some ladies took the opportunity to stare openly at his face. Ignoring those gazes, Jared set the wine glass in his hand down on the table.
Since dessert had already been served, the banquet was drawing to a close. It was proper etiquette to move to the drawing room after a meal for post-dinner tea and conversation. And most drawing rooms were equipped with a piano.
“I learned a bit as part of my education, but it is not at a level to be shown to guests. I believe it would be more beneficial for everyone’s enjoyment to request a performance from the ladies instead.”
After politely declining with a smile, he spoke immediately before the Princess could ask again.
“Miss Foster. If you don’t mind, would you be the first to show us a performance?”
The designated lady looked this way with a startled face. Jared met her eyes and did not look away. The daughter of Marquis Falcon. Her father was a radical conservative, so she had been eliminated as a bride candidate early on, but…
“Are you speaking to me?”
“Yes. I noticed you have very beautiful hands, Miss Agnes. I am certain you must be a wonderful performer. If it is alright, I would very much like to see you play the piano today.”
He responded without hesitation and smiled. The daughter of Marquis Falcon faltered with an incredulous look before her cheeks flushed bright red. It was the first time today he had called one of the invited guests by name. Jared could feel the ladies at the banquet table being stirred.
He had no intention of playing the piano romantically for these women today, and he also wanted to scoff at his mother’s misunderstanding and “consideration” toward him. So he had tried a performance that came to mind on a whim, and the effect was quite good. Perhaps he had a talent for seduction after all.
The Duke of Windberg, discovering a talent he hadn’t known for thirty years, turned his gaze with a hint of amusement. Diane Glenn was looking at the Marquis’s daughter with calm eyes. What will you do now? Since your son’s interest has moved to another woman, will you reconsider the final candidate?
Then, quite naturally, he moved his eyes to look at that woman.
Lady Andover looked peaceful. She was engaged in a whispered conversation with the lady sitting beside her. Her focused face and the smile hanging on her lips remained unchanged. Whatever she might be thinking inside, she appeared very detached on the outside.
As if it didn’t matter even if her position as a leading candidate was shaken. As if she felt neither a sense of crisis nor jealousy toward a rival.
Thus, Jared had no choice but to give her points again. Composure. Was that not a virtue a noblewoman must possess? An ironclad composure that would remain unshaken even if she were to face her husband’s mistress in the future.
Jared was aware of his own antipathy toward that woman. Nevertheless, the judgment that she was the best option was becoming increasingly firm. In any case, there was no woman among the five candidates for whom he did not feel antipathy. The fact that she seemed capable of maintaining a good relationship with his mother and that her father was a man distanced from politics were also points in her favor.
So, if she is at that level.
With that final thought, the banquet ended. Jared emptied the remaining wine in his glass to the last drop, then pushed his chair back and stood up.
“Ladies. Shall we move to the drawing room?”
At his words, everyone seated at the table stood. It was time for the women to show off their polished refinements. It would likely take an hour to listen fairly to the performances of all six.
Jared felt a strong surge of irritation at the fact that this tedious banquet was still not over, but he headed toward the drawing room with an even more polite smile to hide it.
The piano performances were almost reminiscent of a competition. Some even added singing to their various techniques. Every single one was a brilliant display, and Rosalyn was surprised by the level of skill and the heated atmosphere.
In the drawing room they were led to after the banquet sat a large, beautiful piano. Besides the instrument, which looked as though it would produce the finest sound, many things caught Rosalyn’s eye. The decor, furniture, and the antique nature of the fixtures in the drawing room naturally drew admiration.
She wanted to take a closer look at the oil paintings, ceramics, and candlesticks that were surely hundreds of years old. She also wanted to observe how perfectly those relics were preserved and how wonderfully they harmonized with the modern interior decoration. If she could, she wanted to decline the piano performance and quietly just look around the drawing room before leaving.
However, her turn eventually came, and Rosalyn had to sit before the piano. She didn’t want to draw glares by going against the atmosphere where everyone performed one piece. She preferred to draw no interest at all rather than be hated further by the Duke.
It was clear the Duke of Windberg did not like her. No, it would be more accurate to strengthen the expression to “hated.”
Throughout the banquet, he had made his feelings clear by not speaking to Rosalyn at all. He looked at her indifferently from time to time, and there were moments when their gazes met, but he didn’t offer so much as a polite smile or a single word usually exchanged in such moments. He merely watched her from his seat at the head of the table some distance away, with eyes whose meaning was impossible to discern.
Each time, Rosalyn was the first to look away. It was uncomfortable to meet his eyes, and she didn’t have the nerve to stubbornly resist the staring contest the Duke was initiating and incur further antipathy. She only wanted to end this uncomfortable gathering and return home as soon as possible.
The Duke does not like me.
Rosalyn had to admit that the expectations she had briefly harbored were merely vanity. It seemed the person to become his bride was narrowed down to one of two: the Princess of Mendel or the daughter of Marquis Falcon.
Still, it’s an honor just to have attended the tea party and banquet at Maxville, so I should keep it as a lifelong memory. Though it will be a somewhat heart-pounding memory.
The gathering ended with Rosalyn’s performance. Her performance, for which she chose a short piece with little technical difficulty, received ritualistic applause and a few words of praise. Just when she thought everything had ended smoothly, she unexpectedly drew everyone’s attention again.
“How are you returning, Miss Rosalyn? Are you going to the townhouse?”
