With a sigh, Hugh raised his glass. “I’ll drink to that.”
Chapter Two
Westminster, London, April 1814
Lucy had beenin London for a week, but it seemed longer with her aunt fussing around her. Nothing she did seemed to please Aunt Mary, who talked endlessly about how she’d brought out her two girls to be great successes after Lucy’s deceased Uncle Peter had given them handsome dowries.
“Because of your father’s straightened circumstances, your come out will prove more difficult than my daughters’. Anabel and Jane are now married to men of substance.” Aunt Marytsked, holding up one of Lucy’s gowns for inspection in the bedchamber Lucy now occupied. “It is fortunate, perhaps, that he has remained in Bath.”
Lucy firmed her lips, determined not to give in to the urge to defend him again. What good could it do? It would fall on deaf ears. Aunt Mary was her mother’s sister. Their family was higher up the social scale than Papa’s branch of the Kershaws, as her aunt constantly reminded her.
“I should not like you to make an unfortunate marriage, as your mother did.” Aunt Mary’s thin shoulders looked tight, and she sounded bitter as she hung up the gown. “Their marriage was the death of her.”
“Mama died of the influenza,” Lucy reminded her, turning away to hide her outraged face.
“Your maternal grandfather was a baron’s second son. If Caroline had married into a family who could take better care of her…” Aunt Mary began.
“Mama loved my father,” Lucy said, her chest tight.
“Ah, love. What a curse it can be.” Her aunt glanced at her. “I hope you have more sense than to throw away your future on an unsuitable man, my dear.”
Lucy had had enough. She took the gown from her aunt’s hands. “I have a frightful headache, Aunt Mary. I must lie down for a while.”
“It is very muggy today, and that long trip here in a yellow bounder…” She shuddered. “It must have been horrendous. Your father, of course, having no carriage of his own. I’ll send up some feverfew. Rest while I answer these invitations we’ve received. Then we must tackle your wardrobe. Fortunately, we have Anabel’s and Jane’s old gowns to update. Fashions change subtly with each Season. Scallops are now popular, and so is blonde lace. Roses, I think, for the ballgown. A dainty row around the hem.” Her speculative gaze roamed over Lucy. “You are thinner than Anabel, and much shorter than Jane, but I don’t think that will be a problem. I have a good dressmaker, and I gather you are adept with a needle and thread?”
“Yes, Aunt.”
“I have some fashion magazines somewhere.” She rushed to the door, then turned with her hand on the latch, appearing quite enthusiastic at the task awaiting them. “We have a busy week ahead.”
Lucy lay her throbbing head on the pillow. It was good of Aunt Mary to go to so much trouble for her. She really must try to be appreciative and help wherever she could. Thankfully, she had always made her gowns and was quite good at sewing. And she wanted to find a man to love. Someone she could trust and made her feel safe. She hated to admit that life with herfather was often uncertain and realized she had been constantly exhausted with worry about the future.
Cutting and sewing seams and adding embellishments to four old gowns occupied her for the following sennight. The white ballgown had just arrived and was the most beautiful gown she had ever seen, trimmed with silk roses, lace, and pink satin. She thrilled just to look at it.
At the end of a long, busy day, Lucy put aside dressing a bonnet and wrote to her father, trying to sound cheerful and hide her concerns. She prayed her come out would be a success and please both Aunt Mary and her father.
Her cousin Jane visited. Jane viewed the pale-blue sarsnet walking gown Lucy wore before the mirror while their maid, Maisie, sat at Lucy’s feet and pinned up the hem. Lucy expected disapproval, but Jane, uncommonly tall with dark-brown hair and gray eyes, smiled.
“I’m called a Long Meg when my back is turned,” she confessed cheerfully, removing her stylish bonnet. “That shade of blue was never my color. Made me appear pasty-faced,” she whispered when her mother had left the room. “But there’s no telling Mama.”
“The apricot-colored traveling gown with the lovely Vandyke collar you are wearing is perfect on you,” Lucy said, thinking her cousin looked quite the thing.
“Yes, that’s what marriage does for one,” Jane confessed. “Thank heavens, at last, I can dress the way I wish. Don’t let Mama browbeat you into wearing something you hate. Anabel’s gowns had layers of frills and ribbons, which made her look like an iced pudding!” She laughed. “You don’t need such embellishment, Lucy. You are very pretty.”
“You are nice, Jane,” Lucy said. “It’s lovely to meet you again.”
“I am sorry we’ve seen you so rarely,” Jane said. “My husband and I shall entertain this Season, so we shall see more of each other. You can even the numbers at dinner with one of Edward’s bachelor friends. Perhaps he will take your fancy.”
A hand on Jane’s shoulder, Lucy stretched up to kiss Jane’s cheek. But she dreaded being on display like a dowerless, poor relation dredged up from the country, to be offered up for some reluctant gentleman’s consideration. She drew in a sharp breath. That was what she was, and she must accept it.
*
London was agogwith the news that Napoleon had abdicated the throne and been incarcerated on the island of Elba. At the signing of the Treaty of Paris, the Prince Regent had invited his allies, William of Orange, King Frederick William III of Prussia, Prince Metternich of Austria, Prince Leopold of Saxe-Coburg, and Tsar Alexander I of Russia and his sister, to London.
Hugh wandered into the smoky heat of the Forster’s celebratory ball, decorated and festooned in red, white, and blue balloons and streamers, with many uniformed men, some of whom he knew, among the guests.
His friend, Jack Ross, Viscount Hereford, soon joined him. “You’ve missed all the excitement,” Ross said, a smile in his eyes as he raised his champagne glass. He gestured toward the far corner where several gentlemen stood, blocking Hugh’s view of the lady seated there. “A mix of fortune hunters and those prodded by hopeful parents.”
“Do we have a new heiress on the scene?”
