Papa had insisted on a new wardrobe for her, which required many tedious fittings and shopping trips, which had made Grandmama complain her feet hurt. The clothes were beautiful, and Diana knew she was ungrateful, but she couldn’t make herself care.
Her father behaved in an extremely vexing fashion. Usually, this many weeks after their arrival in London, he would have lost interest in her, but this year, he seemed very determined. While he tolerated her, she had no illusions that he cared deeply for her. He’d wished for a son and heir, and Mama, whose health had always been fragile, could not give him one.
Diana only hoped when Papa’s latest painting caused the usual fuss in a gallery on Bond Street, it would wholly capture his attention, as it had on previous occasions.
Through discreet inquiries, she’d discovered that the Earl of Ballantine had a reputation for avoiding marriage. The news pleased her. He appeared to fit the part of an exciting lover splendidly. But despite Diana attending all the social events in the past weeks with her grandmama, he’d failed to appear at any of them. How long could she hold off her father before he insisted she agree to marry one of those gentlemen he had in mind for her?
Tonight at the Foresters’ ball, Diana wore a white net ballgown with pink silk roses at the hem and on the train she thought suited her, and she approved of the soft-white feathers and diamond comb in her hair. Papa, clearly determined to see her wed, had removed the ruby-and-diamond pendant from the family’s parure, kept at the bank, for her to wear. It nestled coolly against her cleavage in the low-necked gown. She thought the overall effect a cut above the demure, white muslin she’d worn in the past. Diana disliked dressing like every other young woman, and at twenty-one she considered herself old enough to dress how she liked. Fortunately, Papa didn’t care, and Grandmama was rather unconventional herself with a very interesting past Diana hoped someday to hear more about.
A finger through the loop to hold up her train, she performed the cotillion, partnered by her father’s friend, the diplomat Sir Charles Stuart. While the dance separated them, her gaze drifted over the sparkling, perfumed crowd, moving about the rim of the dance floor. Then she spotted him.Lord Ballantine.His graceful, relaxed stance, with one leg slightly thrust forward, caught her eye as he stood among a group of distinguished gentlemen. She craned her neck as she danced past, recognizing the prime minister, Lord Liverpool, a serious, composed gentleman, and the fair-haired foreign minister, Lord Castlereagh, among them. Sir George Scovell appeared to hold sway, and they all listened to the round-faced,balding gentleman intently. The news from the war was in the forefront of most people’s minds, although it seldom reached the newspapers for days and sometimes longer.
The steps brought Diana’s dance partner back to her side. She liked Sir Charles, who was attractive and had the exquisite manners of a diplomat. She smiled warmly, a little guilty for being so inattentive.
His eyes twinkled. “When you smile, Lady Diana, I sense all the gentlemen in the ballroom long to bask in it. A few suitors among them, perhaps?”
“No doubt my father has his eye on those.”
“You don’t appear keen for marriage, my lady.”
“I wish not to be rushed, Sir Charles. But my father thinks differently.”
“Ah. Such is often the case.” He laughed. “Have pity. I imagine it would be difficult to be the father of a lovely, young woman.”
He didn’t addwithout a mother to guide her. But she had to admit he was right. She’d never considered her father’s position, so intent was she on her own.
As the dance drew them apart again, Diana wondered who among her acquaintances might properly introduce her to Lord Ballantine. She glanced speculatively at the man leading her through the steps. Sir Charles Stuart would be sure to know him. Could she be so bold as to ask him? She was confident he would agree, but then she dismissed the idea when she realized her father would hear of it.
Was an introduction necessary? They had met, although not the way her father would have approved of, and from where Papa stood surrounded by friends, he still observed her. She had to be careful. Perhaps she could rely on Ballantine to approach her, although so far, he’d made no attempt to even acknowledge her. Perhaps he’d failed to recognize her? She wasn’t sure howshe felt about that but continued to glance at him when the steps of the dance brought him into view.
His manner seemed dissimilar to the rake a friend had pointed out to her. She remembered that man’s restless eyes following the prettiest women. Was she mistaken in what she’d seen in Ballantine during their brief meeting? He was quite different from the gentlemen she’d met, all of whom seemed so aware of their importance and their place in society. When he left the group, he remained a little aloof from those who crowded around him and sought his patronage. She watched him smile and offer a brief word time and again, before moving on. Unlike her father. Papa appeared to relish the attention of toad-eaters. But then it gave him a chance to talk about his art.
She really must learn more about Lord Ballantine.
As she danced, her mother, gone these last six years, was never far from her mind. She had loved Mama dearly and missed her warmth and loving support.“Marry only for love, Diana,”she would say, urging Diana to grasp life with both hands. But she’d fallen ill when Diana had been sixteen and had failed to see her enter society.
Her mother had wished to be an opera singer, but Grandpapa had refused, insisting she marry. Mama had performed in London drawing rooms and at musical evenings after Diana’s birth, and she’d been received with great applause. The memory of her singing in her glorious voice made Diana proud and sad. Had her parents ever loved each other? They had always been polite, but she’d seen no sign of genuine affection between them as she’d grown up. Her father’s behavior must have humiliated her mother. Such thoughts brought tears to her eyes. She hastily blinked them away, afraid she would embarrass herself, as the dance concluded.
Returning to her seat, Diana took a deep breath. Her mother would have been proud of her, however she chose to live herlife, and Diana would not go meekly into an arranged marriage, knowing it would stultify her. When Diana had told Anne about her plan to take a lover before marriage, Anne had been shocked. She’d observed proprieties, and in that way, she and Diana differed.“Never draw too much attention to yourself by your behavior,”Diana remembered Anne saying.
But what bitter irony when Anne had been plucked from the supposed safety of her carriage and no one had seen her since. Diana drew in a sharp breath, putting a hand to her chest. Her dearest friend had been suffering for weeks and could be hurt or dead, while here she was at a ball enjoying frivolity. But she couldn’t make herself believe Anne was dead. If only she were able to go in search of her. Impossible to do it alone. Her father would find her and bring her back, and then where would she be? Watched even more closely? She must find a man who would help her. Pulled down with grief and a sense of hopelessness, she knew how difficult it would be to achieve. She swallowed the lump in her throat. Life could be so cruel.
What had happened to Anne only firmed Diana’s belief that one should grasp life with both hands. She still held out hope that she might find a suitable man to become her lover, who would subsequently aid her in her search.
She glanced back at Lord Ballantine. She doubted he’d be a good husband, but he would be an exciting lover. Her heart thumped just to look at his tall, elegantly clad body and speculate about how he looked without clothes. Such thoughts brought a blush to her cheeks.
Ballantine turned her way. It was difficult in the smoky air to be sure if he looked at her, but a prickle of awareness made her rub her nape. Did he recognize her? If so, he now knew who she was. But was he a rake? It had been her decision not to pick one for a lover. Rakes only had to crook their little finger, and women followed. And it wasn’t in her nature to dance to any man’s tune.They were not admirable people in anyone’s estimation, as they seldom remained loyal to one lady. And were known to ruin naïve, young debutantes. Well, she didn’t consider herself naïve. Could she take a chance on Ballantine, should the opportunity present itself? But should they become lovers, she must be careful not to care too much or let him hurt her.
*
After the attackon Damian’s coach had raised some red flags, Sir George Scovell, Damian’s spymaster, had sent him to lie low in Lisbon. Damian had only recently returned. There was a French spy ring somewhere in London, and it was possible that Damian’s cover had been blown.
It had been a successful trip. Damian had brought back important information for Scovell, who was an outstanding code breaker, to decrypt. The Foresters’ ball was Damian’s first engagement since his return. After two documents containing vital information intended to be sent to Arthur Wellesley Marquess of Wellington, had been stolen, Damian had been called back into action in London. His mission: to find the spies behind the theft and retrieve the documents. If they had not left the country and fallen into the wrong hands. A spate of storms over the Channel prevented smaller vessels from setting sail, and that may have delayed them.
People avidly discussed the news from Spain. Arthur Wellesley’s troops had crossed the Bidasoa River in the north of Spain and an enemy force occupied French soil for the first time in twenty years.
Damian had grown profoundly tired of the war. He hated to see the despair and poverty here in London and around the country, caused by long years of fighting the French. In London, he had spoken to emotionally scarred and maimed soldiers,their futures uncertain, and wished he had the means to help them.
Watching the dancers, he admitted to being ready for a lighthearted dalliance. A charming lady to while away the hours until his next assignment sent him beyond English shores again.
