“I shall run away. Sell my pearls and take the stage back to Bath.” Tears flooded her eyes. “But Papa will be dreadfully disappointed. And so will Aunt Mary, who has done so much to bring me out, and my cousin Jane, who has been such a good friend.”
“Would you like me to help you?” He wondered what her aunt would make of his interference. What thetonwould make of it didn’t bear thinking about.
She glanced up at him hopefully. “Could you? I would appreciate it. I don’t care if I suffer the cut direct from the whole of theton. It would be better than living this…this lie.”
“I could put it about that the gossips are wrong,” he said as he moved her to the beat of the music. “But you guessed correctly. Society would not take kindly to the false story and will believe it came from your family. Your aunt or your father, perhaps.”
Her eyes widened. “Then please don’t do it, my lord. I shall manage somehow.”
The music ended, and he led her slowly from the dance floor. He acknowledged friends as he guided her through the crowd of chatting people.
“Don’t go flying off back to Bath,” he said as they approached her aunt. “Running away is seldom the answer to any problem.”
“Thank you for the dance, Lord Dorchester.” She dipped into a low curtsey, then rising, hurried over to where her aunt watched them intently from her chair.
Dear Lord, what was he thinking? He never involved himself in other people’s dilemmas. Not among the wealthytonin any event, as they thrived on any news of a person’s misfortune. Now many of the guests watched him, trying to guess what the devil was he up to. An engaged man, he obviously could not marry Miss Kershaw, and to take her side in this would stir up an even worse scandal. Not to mention his dancing with her, which would give her story more credibility and bring even more suitors to her aunt’s door. Perhaps one of them might, on learning the truth, love her for herself alone. It wouldn’t be so very hard. There would be many men, surely, who would be keen to take Miss Kershaw to wife because of her beauty and appeal alone.
News of his actions tonight could reach Miss Ashton, and he supposed he should expect a letter demanding an explanation. Right at this moment, Miss Ashton seemed very far away.
It wasn’t too late for Miss Kershaw. Once the gossip died down, there would be a happy ending when some gentleman came up to snuff.
Hugh wondered why that solution didn’t please him. He never considered himself rash and rarely acted on impulse, so this was entirely out of character. A moment of madness, he decided, as he abandoned the ballroom for White’s, where, but for some in the gaming room, sanity prevailed.
Chapter Three
“An excellent firstball, Lucy! You caught Sir Percy Hepburn’s attention tonight.” Aunt Mary sounded pleased as she and Lucy traveled home in the carriage after the ball. “His family is irreproachable, so one might overlook the sad loss of his fortune. I expect him to call on us tomorrow.”
Lucy feared her aunt had come to believe the gossip. “Sir Percy thinks I’m an heiress, even though I told him the rumor is false. He laughed and said he approved of my modesty.”
Aunt Mary sighed. “You’d do better not to speak of it, Lucy.”
“But I cannot just ignore it! Not when it’s so patently untrue.” Despite the earl’s warning, she just couldn’t stand the idea of keeping up the lie.
“That’s of no consequence.” Her aunt patted her gray-brown hair. “An air of mystery never hurt a young woman in her first Season.”
Lucy chewed her lip. “I don’t find Sir Percy attractive, and I do not intend to marry him, so why allow him to continue to believe it?”
Aunt Mary pursed her lips. “Very well. I shall dissuade him from pursuing you. But such attention encourages more competition,” she said in a pained voice. “It stirs up interest among marriage-minded gentlemen. Unfortunately, we cannot consider the Earl of Dorchester among your suitors, as it’s said he is already spoken for. But it was advantageous for us that he singled you out from the other debutantes. Gentlemen areexpected to invite a debutante to dance, but that doesn’t change the fact that he specifically chose you. And other men follow the earl and value his opinion.” Her eyes danced. “I could not have wished for a better start to your Season.”
So that was why Dorchester had danced with her. Out of a sense of duty. Lucy felt unaccountably dispirited, although it would have been foolish to believe his motivations had been otherwise.
“In the ladies’ withdrawing room, a debutante, Miss Nye, told me I should not have waltzed,” Lucy said. “Not without the permission of one of the Lady Patronesses on the Almack’s committee.”
“The rules are relaxed at a private ball. Lady Jersey and Lady Castlereagh were not there tonight, nor did I see Countess Lieven. One doesn’t refuse an earl’s request to dance, Lucy. And heiresses can get away with a lot more than those gently bred.”
“But I am not a…” Exhausted, Lucy gave up, the last of her energy evaporating with a long sigh. It was much later than she’d ever stayed up before, and she was tense for the whole evening, careful not to put a foot wrong. She thought longingly of her bed as their carriage swept around a corner into a street of tall townhouses and pulled up outside her aunt’s.
Aunt Mary smiled at her as they alighted from the carriage. “I’m confident it will all work out perfectly. You will see.” She started up the steps to where a servant waited at the open front door. “Tomorrow, we must choose the gown for you to wear to Jane’s dinner party on Saturday evening. You must make a good impression. So please try to smile!”
“Yes, Aunt.” Lucy followed her inside.
On Saturday evening, she sat at the long dining table opposite a friend of her husband, Edward. Although Mr. Nash’s mode of dressing, with a high collar beneath his chin and an elaborately tied cravat, was not to her taste, there was reallynothing to dislike about him. But when he continually smiled at her across the table, and even raised his wineglass and saluted her at Edward’s call for a toast to the end of the war, she fidgeted with her napkin.
“What do you think of Mr. Nash?” Jane asked once they were alone together in the bedchamber tidying their hair while the men remained at the table to drink their port and talk about politics, horse racing, and Tattersall’s auction house.
Lucy expected the men’s conversation would be far more interesting than Jane’s at this moment. Why were women not allowed to give voice to their opinions on important matters?
“He seems nice,” Lucy said cautiously. She found him rather too young, which was probably unfair when he was several years older than her.
