Chapter 1
April 1802
Lady Caroline Langdon scanned the crowded ballroom, discreetly fanning herself to create a small breeze in the stifling hot room. She eyed the glass doors that led to the veranda jealously, knowing she could not venture outside into the cool spring air without a chaperone.
The chandeliers, heavy with hundreds of candles, illuminated an all too familiar scene. Women in colorful silks and gentlemen in formal attire whirled through a reel. Skirts flew and hands clasped and unclasped as the merry guests wound their way down the line. Along the dance floor, guests congregated in small groups, no doubt gossiping about the latest on-dit.
Caroline spotted her brother and sister-in-law dancing across the room from where she hid. Her brother scanned the room as he danced with his wife. His gaze finally finding her, he frowned. She had promised to stay near her mother this evening. Although, why he was such a hen about her staying close to family, she had no idea. Caroline waggled her fingers at him.
Glad for the small break in her dance card, she’d retreated to a corner next to a rather large fern. It wasn’t like her to hide, but the boring conversation and banal flirting she endured so far tonight made her withdraw in search of some peace. She adjusted her domino. The mask heavily decorated with glass jewels kept slipping down her nose. She wished she could rid herself of the dratted thing. But God forbid she would not be in the spirit of the evening’s theme. What was the purpose of a masked ball when everyone knew who everyone else was, masked or not. There was never anyone new at these tedious affairs anyway. Lud, she desperately needed some air.
She spied a knot of women heading through the throng of well-dressed guests. Caroline immediately recognized they headed her way, so squaring her shoulders, she stepped away from the wall. Lady Grendel, Lady Dresden, Lady Hartley, and Lady Hollister were all friends of hers, all friends sincerely troubled that she had not joined their matrimonial ranks by now.
Caroline allowed herself one long sigh before pasting on a smile. A smile which would let everyone know she was having a grand time.
“Caroline, did you see who Lord Wallis is dancing with, for the second dance in a row?” Lady Dresden was flushed with the excitement of passing on a piece of gossip.
“No, I haven’t been watching the dance floor. I have been eyeing the veranda and the promise of fresh air with an envious eye.”
“Truly, you are correct. It is stifling in here this evening.” Lady Hartley said.
“Where is His Grace?” twittered Lady Grendel. Her eyes over bright from too much sherry. She’d always had an eye for Andrew, and it was to her great disappointment that she settled for Lord Grendel just before Caroline’s brother had become widowed three years ago. Lady Grendel’s blonde curls bobbed as she twisted around, searching the immediate area.
“Do any of you ladies feel like getting some air?” Caroline asked, steering the conversation away from her brother.
“Oh, not right now. This set is almost done. Who do you have next on your card?” Lady Hollister reached to grab hold of the folded card hanging by a blue ribbon from Caroline’s wrist. She snatched her hand out of range and forced a laugh.
“No one. I have a small break before supper. Thank goodness.”
All four faces fell into similar looks of sympathy.
“Don’t you worry, dear, there are hardly any unattached gentlemen here this evening.”
“Yes, I was just telling Maude yesterday what a dearth of eligible men there are this season.”
“Caroline, you really should have chosen someone last year.”
“I’m sure someone will ask you to dance before the night is out.”
Caroline held up her hands to stop the tide of concern. “Ladies, I simply have three free slots. It’s not the end of the world. In fact, I am quite overheated from the barely veiled innuendo Lord Deerfield left me with in the last set. I simply needed a moment to compose myself.” She lied easily, knowing that anything the infamous rake could have said or not said would distract her friends from their misplaced sympathy about her less than full dance card.
The four ladies continued to discuss various bits of gossip they had gleaned so far that evening. Caroline nodded her head appropriately and raised her fan in faux shock at the right moments. It was easy to play the part. She had years of training. Daughter to the Duke of Gilchrest, she long since mastered her social façade. It was a second skin she wore with ease.
Her eyes drifted back toward the other end of the ballroom and the doors that led to fresh air. Underneath her emerald-green skirts, she shifted from left foot to right foot rolling each ankle in turn. She felt like a thoroughbred horse at the start line at Ascot, searching for her chance to race away. Finally, the music changed, signaling the change of set. Her opportunity to exit the conversation arose.
“Oh, I see Gilchrest and his lady.”
Lady Grendel’s expression soured at the mention of her brother’s new wife. Caroline hastily excused herself. She gave a small nod of her head. “Ladies.”
With no idea where Andrew and Emma actually were, she worked her way across the polished wood floors, determined to reach the end of the room where the doors opened to the gardens. If she could get some fresh air, perhaps she could shake off this terrible disquiet. All spring, her impatience with her social obligations had grown until she felt though she couldn’t breathe for the heaviness in her chest.
The gilt-edged mirrors that lined the sides of the room reflected the horde of guests, giving the sense that hundreds of more people were swirling around the ballroom and increasing her feeling of suffocation. Halfway to her destination, she spotted the last person she wanted to speak with standing in her pathway to fresh air. He spotted her as well. Lord Devonshire gave a broad smile and started her way.
Caroline panicked. Lord Devonshire had been hunting her all spring. Good on paper, she knew everyone thought they would make an excellent match. As a Marquis, he held a decent title, had extensive land holdings, and was relatively young at thirty-six. But something in his manner always raised her hackles. The inappropriate comments whispered to her when he thought no one was paying attention, that ever-present overly bright smile. And she knew it was shallow, but the man was shorter than her.
Cursed with the height that all the Langdons possessed, she towered over most women by four or five inches. Her mother wore her height with elegance, while Caroline had spent her adolescence feeling gangly. She had gained a certain grace and style over the last five years but sometimes still felt like that clumsy girl. She felt positively giant standing next to Devonshire. Plus, he always stared at her with a certain salacious gleam in his eye. She battled now to suck in a deep breath as Lord Devonshire began to weave his way in her direction. Caroline knew her brother had recently received theman’s request for her hand in marriage. She clearly remembered Andrew’s frown when she asked him to refuse the offer.
“Caroline, you know I will never make you marry anyone you do not want. But how many suitors is this now? Nine? Ten? What exactly are you looking for in a husband?” Exasperation was written all over his face.
