That invitations would follow in the wake of their dancing, he was sure. Every lady of his wide acquaintance took a great deal of interest in who he might marry. Lady Frances had, of course, been the presumed choice of recent months, but there would be no harm in shaking those assumptions. There might even come a great deal of good if he could shake Lady Frances’s own certainty. He’d given her too much power. It wasn’t up to her to elevate Mrs Ardingly. He could do so himself.
It was time for Lady Frances to doubt her own power. Let her watch him dance with Mrs Ardingly; a blind man couldn’t miss the simmering connection between them. If he wasn’t allowed to act upon it, then he might at least make use of it.
“Is it a private ball? I have no invitation.”
“I will secure you one. The only question that remains…is with whom you will arrive.”
“My aunt—”
He shook his head. “No.”
Of course she glared daggers at him, cheeks burning with anger. He gave her no chance to speak.
“It will be Lady Frances.” He had no idea yet how he’d arrange it, but if he couldn’t manage, then he had no call thinking to make the woman his wife. “Arrive with her, dance with me, make yourself pleasant to all, do not get drunk, and make no mention of small boys or beatings or charity of any kind. Yesterday’s rashness will all be forgotten.”
“I see. And I suppose you will tell me what to wear, my lord?”
“Of course. The blue satin. I will send you some jewels to go with it.”
She bowed her head, entirely frigid. “How very, verygoodyou are.”
Her curtsy was all sarcasm.
His smile was real.
Fourteen
They were sapphires, thejewels, in a gold-cloth box lined with white silk.
“Not paste?” Her aunt reached out a reverent finger but didn’t dare touch them. Earrings, necklace, hair pins… They glinted pure and perfect in the sitting room’s sunlight.
“Not paste, no.” Madelaine was sure of it—hadn’t even questioned it, knowing the man. He’d shudder at the mere idea.
Besides, she suspected he took some perverse pleasure from the generosity of the gift—sorry,donation—knowing it would annoy her, for reasons too trite and stupid to even name.
“But that must be…”
“Worth a ridiculous amount, yes.” She snapped the lid of the jewellery box shut and put it down—a little carefully, she had to admit—on the low table before the sofa where she sat. “Which could have been spent on far better things.”
Her aunt’s gaze lingered on the box for a moment before coming hesitantly to Madelaine’s face. “I suppose…I suppose Lord Cotereigh very much wishes to win his wager.”
She gave a sharp nod then stood up, unable to sit still. “He certainly does.”
“I have to say…he is a much more generous man than I ever imagined. The way he helped with that boy and insists on keeping him. And of course, I can’t forget how kind he was to me when I was so stupidly overcome yesterday. He was so…gentle, for such a man normally so grave and…and…”
“Imperious? Domineering?”
Infuriating, abominable, despicable, confusing…The way he’d taken hold of her wrist as though he had every right to touch her!
“Well…I suppose you could describe him like that. But he’s been nothing but good to us. Where would we be without his help? Look at you, invited to the Allingham’s ball, and with Lady Frances taking you in her own carriage again! I used to know old Mrs Allingham, once, a long time ago now. I haven’t seen her in many years. I suppose one loses touch…”
Madelaine turned on her aunt. “It ought to be you going with me. You have as much right as anyone. You’re a countess, Aunt. These people were all your people before they…they turned their noses up at you.”
Her aunt arranged the creases in her skirts then took to fiddling with the rope cord edging a cushion. It was starting to fall off.
“Well, I suppose they were really all Charles’s friends before they were ever mine, and once he was gone… Anyway, I probably annoyed them over the years.”
The guilty note of apology in her voice made Madelaine’s jaw clench.
