A deep laugh had her tensing. She wasn’t looking across the table but she was aware that Lord Stafford was now in conversation with Miss Devlin. The young woman hung on the marquess’s every word. Alice didn’t acknowledge the small sting of jealousy as the woman touched the sleeve of his dark jacket.
Jealousy had no place in her life, especially when she was furious at him. Her purpose was set; she would find Jackson alone now, and after that she would think about the future, but not before. Lord Stafford was a means to help her find and destroy the man who had taken her brother from her and nothing more than that. She had to stay focused for Charles.
“And what of you, Lady Alice? Are you like many who fawn over the flowery prose of Byron?”
Alice took a bite of her salmon before answering Lord Hamilton, while beside her Braxton slurped down a mouthful of shrimp sauce loudly. It always amazed her how society valued propriety and manners, yet so few had them.
“I do not spend a lot of time reading poetry, my lord,” she said as Miss Timothy giggled across the table at something Lord Stafford said to her. “But Wordsworth is my favorite.”
Braxton laughed, showy and loud. “You are clearly a woman of sense who has many passionate pursuits, Lady Alice.”
Gnashing one’s teeth in such a setting was not the done thing, but the urge was there.
She looked across the table and instantly wished she hadn’t. Her gaze collided with Stafford’s. He raised a dark brow, as his deep green eyes questioned her. For a breath, neither looked away. It was he who broke the contact as Miss Devlin touched his sleeve.
Alice exhaled slowly. Her chest felt tight, and suddenly she wanted to run from the room. Of course, she would not, as there would be questions, and while she may flout society’s rules in her own way, she’d made a decision long ago that she would appear to be everything that was expected of her. Then, in private, do as she wished.
A servant appeared at her side with another tray laden with food. Alice fought back the need to send him away, and nodded. The roast course was rich with gravy and herbs. She ate little, pushing the delicacies around her plate, which was not usually her way. Alice loved food. Around her, people chattered and laughed, Lady Petunia’s voice booming, Rushbridge holding forth on some scandal in Covent Garden. She answered when spoken to, but her mind was elsewhere.
Every nerve was aware of the devil seated across from her. The way his hands curled around his wineglass, and the faint line between his brows when one of the two young ladies on either side of him leaned near.
She loathed how aware she was of him when he’d betrayed her, and longed to demand the truth from him, but that would not happen here tonight, surrounded by people. Alice made herself focus, putting on the façade expected of her.
By the arrival of dessert she was weary, her nerves stretched to breaking point. She had never been so ready to leave a table.
Finally, Lady Petunia rose and signaled that the ladies would leave. Alice saw this as her chance. When they were out in the hallway, she moved to where Lady Agatha stood.
“Forgive me, my lady, but I must get back to my aunt. She was most unwell, and I am worried. I must return in case a doctor is needed.”
“Yes, poor Gwen. I hope she improves quickly. But I’m sure she would want you to stay a while longer, dear, as the music is due to start soon. Surely a few more minutes?”
“Of course she can spare us a few more minutes, Agatha,” Lady Petunia said, taking Alice’s arm. “Come, dear.”
She was towed along with remarkable force considering the age of the lady at her side. Seconds later, Alice was in a large parlor. A huge grand piano stood at the end of the room. Sofas and chairs formed a half circle around it. If she was to be here for this, Alice did not want the chance that Lord Stafford would be the one to take the seat beside her on a sofa, which, given their recent conversations, could easily be engineered.
“Oh, but I thought the sofa would be more comfortable for you,” Lady Agatha said when Alice dropped into a chair inelegantly.
“This will do, thank you. Besides, I will stay for only a few songs and can leave without annoying anyone if I am here, closest to the door,” Alice said with a fake smile that did not reach her eyes.
“Tea, I think,” Lady Agatha said when she realized she was not about to move Alice.
“They are harmless for the most part, but can be extremely meddlesome,” Lady Hamilton said, taking the seat to Alice’s right. She was beautiful in a dress of apricot satin. “The problem is, they want everyone they love happy and won’t stop until that is done.”
“I’m not quite sure I understand what you are saying, Lady Hamilton,” Alice lied. Please, God, let her not understand.
“Matchmaking, Lady Alice. They are well known for it, and it seems to me that you are on the list.”
“List?” Alice wanted to clutch her chest in horror, but as to this point in her life, she’d never done that and wasn’t about to start now.
“Apparently they have made lists for the three friends, my husband and Lords Stafford and Corbyn, that have prospective brides on them.”
Alice stared at her, unsure what next to say.
“I’m unsure who is on Lord Stafford’s list, but my guess would be the three women seated closest to him this evening.”
“Ah…I’m quite sure I don’t know what to add to that,” Alice said honestly.
“They think of Lord Stafford as they do my husband, and therefore, as he is unwed, they are putting a great deal of effort into changing that. It’s really rather sweet, but of course excessively annoying to the three men.”
