It was nearing midnight when his path crossed Miss Debenham’s. He blinked at her dazzling self; she was very nearly blinding in her golden gorgeousness. “Good evening, Miss Debenham. You are looking particularly fine tonight. I trust you are enjoying yourself?”
There seemed to be a rather strange light in her eyes before she cast them down bashfully, fluttering her fan over her lower face. “Actually, my lord, there has been something amiss.” She glanced up, her eyelashes fluttering in time to her fan. She paused delicately, then said, “This is very bold of me, but . . . I very much need to speak with you. Is there some place where we might be private for a few moments? Perhaps that alcove at the far end of the ballroom?”
Alex was a little surprised at the request but saw no reason not to comply. After all, Sybil was not a miss in her first Season—spending a few minutes closeted with a man was unlikely to ruin her reputation. “At your service, Miss Debenham,” he said cheerfully as he offered his arm.
Claudia Debenham watched the pair from across the ballroom. Perhaps Sybil was going to bring it off after all. Well, her mother was willing to do her part. She checked the wall clock next to her, then went to collect two friends.
The alcove was curtained from the main room and a good distance from the orchestra, so speech was possible at a normal level. “What do you wish to discuss, Miss Debenham?” Alex prompted when his guest seemed uncertain where to begin.
She raised her pale blue eyes to his helplessly. “Indeed, Lord Kingsley, it is very hard to know where to start. Society frowns on what I am about to do.” More fan fluttering.
Puzzled but unsuspicious, Alex said, “Are you interested in purchasing a yacht?” He could think of no other area of his expertise that might be of value to her. “I should be very happy to advise you if that is your desire. Sailing is wonderfully enjoyable, and while it is unconventional, there is nothing improper about it.”
She gave a little moue. “That is not it at all! Indeed, I suffer from mal de mer even on river ferries.” She drew very close to him, her breasts almost touching his chest as she gazed up. “No, my lord, I wish to confess something. I fear that I have lost my heart to you in the most unladylike way. Since the first time I met you, I have dreamed of you, so handsome, so brave.” She laid one hand on his arm.
“You are what a woman dreams of. Please don’t run away,” she pleaded as Alex showed signs of flight. “I do not expect you to declare any such passion for me. A hero like you must always have foolish females falling at your feet. I only . . . wanted to tell you how I felt, just once.” Her aquamarine eyes were shining with a hint of tears, the exquisite heart-shaped face full of sweet longing.
Alex’s primary reaction was embarrassment; he had trouble imagining himself as the answer to a maiden’s prayer. But she was very lovely, and she seemed to be expecting a response of some kind. Besides, it was about time he attempted to find another woman whose kisses were as sweet as Christa’s.
He bent his head and lips to hers as a clock in the ballroom began striking midnight. He took his time, since this was in the nature of a test, and by the twelfth stroke he had decided Miss Debenham could in no way compare with his memories of Christa. For all Sybil’s beauty, kissing her had no special charms for him beyond a man’s natural response to an attractive woman.
Alex tried to break away but she clung to him. In the moment before he could gracefully disengage, the curtains in the alcove were swept aside and three women entered. One was Sybil’s mother and the other two were highly respected social leaders. He froze for a moment as Sybil leaned into his embrace.
Claudia Debenham stopped dead, then her eyes widened, and she rushed toward him. “Lord Kingsley, how wonderful! I am delighted to welcome you as a son-in-law. All my life I have hoped my dear girl would win the heart of a man like you.”
One of the other dowagers stepped forward. “Such a handsome couple you make! Let me be the first to wish you happy.”
Son-in-law?Alex felt paralyzed. He glanced down at Sybil, still clinging to him, but now with possessiveness in her grip. Her gaze was an artful blend of innocence and excited pleasure, and she made no move to deny her mother’s assumption.
Disastrously, his mind blanked. It was like the horrible exams at school and in the navy—when under pressure he could find no words. Alex could have managed if action were appropriate, but that was no solution here. Other people were crowding into the alcove, curiosity bright in their eyes. Among them was Annabelle, her eyes wide and startled.
Since his paralyzed brain had no suggestions how to talk his way out of this imbroglio, the viscount’s training in manners took over and with a stiff face he began acknowledging congratulations. Within half an hour the news was all over the ballroom: their host was to marry the beautiful Miss Debenham. It was generally thought to be a very reasonable match—both were wealthy, and her exceptional beauty compensated for her lackluster breeding. The only guests who faulted the arrangement were those who had had designs on one half or the other of the happy couple.
* * *
Christa had spent the evening in the lady’s retiring room. With a chambermaid to assist her, she fixed damaged dresses and coiffures, patted cooling lavender water on the brows of overheated dancers, and generally repaired the ravages of an evening’s entertainment. She was kneeling on the floor when a new arrival hailed the matron whose dress Christa was pinning up. “Sophia! Have you heard the news about Lord Kingsley?”
“No. What has happened?”
“He’s going to marry Sybil Debenham!” was the excited reply. “The engagement was just announced.”
Christa’s hand jerked and the tin of pins she was holding sprayed across the floor. The matron glared down at her.
“Be more careful, you clumsy wench! Servants are impossible these days.” Speaking to her friend, the woman said, “I can’t believe Kingsley offered for that hussy. I was thinking that he would be perfect for my Emily.”
The bearer of news, who had no marriageable daughters, said with a hint of malice, “Emily is a pretty little thing, but there’s no denying Miss Debenham is a diamond of the first water.”
Thoughts jumbled chaotically in Christa’s brain as she went through the motions of gathering up the pins, then getting out needle and thread to baste the ripped hem. Alex was getting married? It was just two weeks since he had asked her to be his mistress. She had seen Sybil Debenham in the park sometimes—once the woman had walked with Annabelle and Alex for a while as Christa followed. Certainly she was very beautiful, but Alex seemed to have no special interest in her. Indeed, Christa had observed that his lordship was surprisingly quiet around the ladies of the ton, not at all as he was in private. Could he really be in love with Sybil Debenham?
She finished the hem and knotted the thread, neatly trimming it with her sewing scissors. The matron swept off with neither verbal thanks nor a coin, still grumbling to her friend that Lord Kingsley was being wasted on The Debenham.
There was a temporary lull in the retiring room, and the chambermaid said with concern, “Are you feeling all right, Christa? You’ve come all over white.”
Christa forced herself to smile. “Just tired, Maggie. I have been busy all day, what with the ball and readying Miss Annabelle. I’ll be all right if I sit for a few minutes.”
She sat down just before her knees could buckle and leaned her head against the back of the chair. There was a bitter taste in her mouth, and she wondered if she were going to faint. Had Alex offered her a carte blanche because he wantedher, or just because he wanted a woman? She shuddered—she knew he didn’t love her, but surely there had been some caring? Had he already been planning on offering for Miss Debenham, or had he chosen to marry her because he was lonely, and Christa had refused him?
Questions tumbled painfully in her head but there were no answers.You know he is not for you. You are a servant, without name or fortune. She is an heiress and beautiful. A cat may look at a king, and a servant may love a lord, but the lord will marry a lady.
