The Duke of Woodborough’s attentive behavior to Caroline Armstrong was not lost on the gossips, who were observing them avidly. A low buzz of conversation rose in volume as they watched the pair in question conclude their second dance together and then retire to a secluded spot. Why, the duke was positively hovering over her!
Lady Weatherby, in her typically direct manner, asked Olivia Fairchild, “What is the duke doing with your granddaughter? He has danced with her twice this evening! It’s almost scandalous. Now look. He’s sitting rather cozily with her over there in the corner.”
Olivia responded in a light tone, “Well, Martha, it is quite obvious that he is taking an interest in her.” Pleased beyond words with Caroline’s actions this evening, Olivia thought the change in her granddaughter was remarkable. The duke seemed to have worked magic on her, for she no longer sat miserably in a corner but laughed and chatted readily with everyone.
“An interest!” snorted Lady Weatherby, her thin face showing disbelief. “Why, he’s shown more interest in your granddaughter this evening than he ever did to that Maxwell chit he was supposed to be engaged to!”
That last comment was overheard by Lady Madeline herself. Surreptitiously Madeline turned her head so she, too, could see the duke, a smile on his handsome face, sitting with the older Armstrong sister. It enraged her to think that Lady Weatherby’s remark was accurate. The duke had never danced with her twice in one evening, had never sat alone and talked with her, or even brought her a glass of punch! The truth was quite obvious now. Caroline Armstrong had deliberately stolen the duke away from her, forcing Madeline to throw herself at the dull Oliver Parkridge to save her face. How she hated Caroline Armstrong! Who did she think she was? And the faithless duke! How dare he cast her aside so carelessly! It was unbearable. Glaring at the couple lounging together, Madeline made a silent vow that she would find some way to make Caroline Armstrong pay for humiliating her.
Intuitively sensing her gaze, Caroline glanced up and caught Madeline Maxwell staring at her. The two girls looked at each other for a long moment. At last, Madeline shrugged her delicate shoulders, sauntered over to Oliver Parkridge, placed a tiny hand on his arm, and whispered in his ear. A smile spread across Oliver’s face as he escorted Madeline to the dining room.
Caroline shuddered from the blatant hostility she felt from Madeline once again. “I think Madeline Maxwell despises me,” she said to Alex in a hushed tone.
“Why would she? If she hates anyone, it’s me.”
“I have a feeling that she thinks you broke off with her for me.”
“That’s ridiculous. There was never anything between us to break off from, except in her own imagination.”
“That may very well be, but I don’t think she sees it that way.”
“I wouldn’t worry about her,” Alex laughed, but Caroline could not shake the distinctly foreboding feeling that Madeline had just given her.
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