She curtsied, “You too, My Lord.”
Lord Banbury turned to her father and struck up a conversation while Rachel felt her stomach sink to her feet. Why this man? Why him? He was at least three times her age, looked frightful, and smelled a little musty. Did her parents hate her that much to pair her with such a man?
Rachel was tempted to turn and run. But she could not embarrass her parents and disgrace their house. Later that night, or possibly the nest morning, she would tell them that under no circumstances would she marry Lord Banbury.
When the two men finished their polite discussion, they moved off, and her father introduced her to Lord Thistlelake. This man was thin, gangly, and gaunt, the opposite of Banbury, but still hideous. His voice was monotone, droning, and she felt anger build inside her.
Is this how my parents think of me, only worthy of marrying these horrid men?
The only mercy she had was when her father conversed with him instead of letting her speak with him. She had not known what to say if he had drawn her into the conversation.
Lord Yardley was younger than both Thistlelake and Banbury, but even with his thick dark hair and friendly smile, Rachel felt something about him was still not right.
Just as their introductions were made, the first dance was called, and he offered to be her partner. The Minuet dance was a slow, minimal contact dance that had her craving for William’s warm hold and tender touch.
When the dance ended, she made her excuses and went to the refreshment room. The night had just started, but it already felt long and dreary.
How am I to survive this night?
She left the room only to stop behind a tall plant. She could see the tall plumes of a ladies’ head ornaments and heard them giggle.
“I stand mistaken; tonight is not the disaster I had thought,” one said.
“Only if you consider Lady Hampton’s dress,” another sneered. “Who wears rose-pink velvet dresses anymore?”
“How wicked of you, Lady Julia, you know that her parents have a stronghold on her life. Poor thing looks so depressed to me,” the first one replied.
“She will be more depressed if she marries any of those men,” the first said. “Thistlelake is a three-time widower, and to this day, we do not know how his wives died. Banbury has a scandal with a French lord’s wife that he is trying to keep hush-hush, and Yardley has a secret gambling addiction a mile wide and three times longer. Not to mention the reported personal, erm, endowments.”
“Endowments aside, why would they dare latch her to those men?”
“All three are close to the Regent,” the other said. “I suppose that might be it. Shoe-ins with the ear of the crown. Rather cruel of the Duke and Duchess, I would think.”
As the ladies tittered, Rachel turned away, her cheeks burning in anger. So that was it—political clout! That was why they would sell her off to the highest bidder to get more power—even knowing the faults the men had. If those ladies had known them all, she was sure her father and mother knew them too.
She could not believe this was how they thought her place in life was to be—a pawn? Halfway to the ballroom, she stopped in her place while her mother pandered to Lord Yardley. She felt sickened.
Looking around, Rachel spotted Jane at the seated section of the room and went to her maid instead of her parents.
“Jane,” she said quietly. “I don’t feel well. Will you tell my parents, please? I have to rest.”
Jane blanched, and Rachel instantly regretted it. It was cowardly of her to let Jane take the brunt of her parent’s anger, so she shook her head, “I’m sorry; you won’t have to do it. I will tell them myself.”
Nervously enough for her fingers to start trembling, Rachel found her Mother first. “Pardon me, Mother, but I am not feeling well. I need to go rest.”
Lady Mary’s lips pinched, and her face soured. “You are not ill.”
“Yes, I am.” Rachel said, her eyes narrowing. She could not and would not tell her mother what she had heard about the Lords and humiliate them all. But she would not stay and allow them to barter her off like a fattened calf. “If I do not leave now, I will be proving it to you in one of your potted plants.”
She had never been so daring and bold with her mother but considering what they were using her for,she felt she had a right to be. Instead of cowering, she stood tall and even notched her head up a little. From the corner of her eyes, she spotted a few people looking at them curiously, and from the way her mother’s face soured, she had realized it too.
“Fine,” Lady Mary said tightly. “Go.”
With a curt nod, she left toward the stairs with Jane a mere step behind her. She kept silent until entering her rooms, and there she spun. “Do you know why my parents are pushing me to marry one of these men, Jane? To get close to the Regent—that’s why. It is not for any other reason than to get connections!”
“Goodness, no!” Jane spluttered.
Incensed, Rachel told her maid all she heard about the three men that her parents were considering for her to marry. “And you cannot tell me that they do not know about all those. I wager that they do not even care.”
