“Never.”
How much he wanted to. To make her laugh and look at him that way.The devil!Hugh seemed unable to help himself where Miss Kershaw was concerned. He left the room slightly chastened. What was he thinking? Surely not that Miss Kershaw would be open to an arrangement? He could not play fast and loose with her reputation. What people might say about him did not matter nearly so much. Anyway, tomorrow he planned to drive down to Kent to see Miss Ashton. Perhaps he would return to London unattached. A state thus far unknown to him. Should he be… what, then? He must control these rampant emotions. He was not free yet and might never be.
As he entered the drawing room, he wondered if Sarah had noticed him leaving in Miss Kershaw’s wake. If so, he’d never hear the end of it.
His fears were proved right. His sister watched him with a wry expression. Fortunately, Miss Kershaw took her time before returning. He was seated at a faro table betrothed in play, and she still hadn’t come through the door. It might be enough to avoid scrutiny from the guests but would not save him from Sarah. And he could hardly deny anything she accused him of, which made it even more galling.
He sighed. A soldier’s life was far less complicated than living within the dictates of society.
“Your turn, sir,” the gentleman across the table prompted him.
“I beg your pardon.” Hugh forced himself to concentrate on the game. Tomorrow, he must face Miss Ashton, and possibly her parents. And he wondered uneasily what might await him.
Chapter Eight
After waiting forten minutes, Lucy followed Lord Dorchester to the drawing room. Lucy’s fears rushed back when she met Mrs. Vellacott’s critical gaze from the whist table.
When Lord Dorchester had left her alone in the library, it had helped Lucy think more clearly. She had to keep a discreet distance from him while gossip was spreading about her. Yet it became more difficult when Lady Sarah greeted her with a wave from across the room.
Aunt Mary left her seat and approached Lucy, with Jane and Anabel following closely. “Lucy, where have you been?”
“I felt in need of fresh air, aunt.”
A frown deepened the fine lines on her forehead. “What nonsense.”
“It is very stuffy in here, Mama,” Jane said with a sympathetic glance at Lucy.
Lady Sarah’s approach gave Lucy a chance to resolve her problem. “Lady Sarah, how good to see you,” she said, going to greet her.
“I hoped to find you here, Miss Kershaw,” Lady Sarah said, with an encompassing smile as she took in her aunt and cousins.
Lucy introduced them.
“You must meet my brother.” Lady Sarah motioned towards Lord Dorchester, who had abandoned the card table to engage in conversation with another man.
He pardoned himself and came to join them.
Lady Sarah introduced everyone to him, while Lucy covertly observed Mrs. Vellacott’s stony expression. Surely, the woman could make nothing of this.
Lucy could see by the smiles that Aunt Mary and her cousins were affected by Lord Dorchester’s easy charm, as any lady would be. When they took their seats at the tables again, Lady Sarah took Lucy aside once Lord Dorchester had resumed his conversation with the gentleman, and Aunt Mary and her cousins returned to the tables. “Mr. Beaufort is in attendance tonight. He has completed his game. Don’t turn around,” she urged with a giggle. “I should like to talk to him, but I can’t go over boldly and address him. Shall we take a turn about the room?”
Lucy smiled and nodded, wondering why Lady Sarah didn’t ask her brother.
“I would ask Hugh,” Lady Sarah said, supplying the answer as she slipped her arm into Lucy’s. “But he would learn of my interest in his friend.”
“And you don’t want him to?”
“No. You never give brothers the upper hand, Miss Kershaw.”
“I’ve had no experience with brothers. Since I’ve had none.”
Lady Sarah smiled and led the way. “No, of course, you haven’t. They believe it is their duty to oversee everything their younger siblings do, and I have no intention of giving in to him.”
Lucy tried not to grin while thinking of Lord Dorchester in a new light. “I’ve noticed that men always seem to think they know better. Even though they aren’t always correct.”
“No, and they almost never admit it.”
While conversing, they strolled across the length of the room and came upon Mr. Beaufort. Lucy found him remarkably attractive in his evening attire, with his blue eyes and black hair. And he seemed such a nice person, although rather reserved. As if he guarded his heart.
