“You were splendid, my dear. I admit I was worried when she began questioning you, but I should not have worried.”
“I thought I might cast up my accounts but then I remembered what you said. Talk simply and honestly. Thank you for your help. I could not have done it without you and Marianne.”
The dowager held both her shoulders in a reassuring manner. “This is just the beginning. We have your first ball tonight where I am sure you will be quite the hit. I really think we should stir up the gossips and tell them you were waylaid on your trip to London by highwaymen. It will make you seem more interesting than that you have been stagnating at a finishing school in Sussex of all places.”
“Shouldn’t I just stick to your advice and just speak simply and honestly?”
“Of course, but there is nothing wrong with exaggerating some of the facts. For affect, you understand.”
“I am not good at making up stories and I will likely forget and get myself into a jumble.”
“Do not worry. I will manage everything.”
That was what worried Lucinda the most. She did not want to lie to the ton. Or exaggerate. She just wanted to be herself. How could she earn the trust and admiration of her true love if she lied to him at their very first meeting?
The carriage ride back to Warrington House was filled with laughter and she had not felt so happy in a long time. They celebrated with a fine feast and then a well-earned nap before having to get ready for the ball. Lucinda hoped that she might find friends of her father or mother tonight. She had so many questions, but would it seem odd that she would be asking them about her own parents? Perhaps if she waited until she had been to a few balls first and was more comfortable, then she wouldknow who she could approach and from whom she should stay away. Lord Ashton would help her; of that, she was sure.
If Tony werenot her guardian, he would stay far away from Miss Lucinda Sterling. The more he knew her, the more he wanted to know. The more he was in her presence, the more he needed to be near her. She had even looked lovely in that ridiculous court dress. He could not be thinking like this. It was insanity.
He was a bloody idiot and worse; he knew it. With each passing day, she filled his senses, and it was not unlike torture. To smell her hair as she passed, to feel her soft skin beneath his fingers, beneath his lips, when he kissed her hand. To be the recipient of her smile.
This was an insane folly. It had only been a week or so and already he could feel her soaking into his very skin. He could not do this to himself. He must remember who she was. His ward, and nothing more. But… Last night he had even dreamed of her, and he knew it was wrong. It was natural that his body would react to her; she was a beautiful woman, and he was just a man, but… no! He must treat her like a sister only. Yes, that could work. Sister, sister, sister… shit.
Chapter Seven
The ballroom wasalit with candles. The room vibrated with sound, both musical and vocal as hundreds of people crammed into the first ball of the season. They met their hosts and descended the stairs. Lucinda held her breath, not knowing where to look, as people mingled in small groups waiting for the dancing to start. The scent of burning candles, furniture wax, and perfumes filled her senses.
Marianne grabbed her hand and dragged her towards the refreshment table. “You must have something in your hand at all times,” she advised. “Otherwise, you will be constantly asked if you would like lemonade or punch and if you accept their offer, they will automatically take that as you being receptive to a dance. You must wait for them to be introduced to you first. You will curtsey and then because you have already a drink in hand, they cannot bother you without first at least entering some kind of conversation.”
“I was taught to act disinterested at school, but your plan is better. We should have a code word for if we do not wish to dance with the gentleman.”
Marianne grinned. “Oh, yes. Then we can make some kind of excuse as to why we cannot dance with them. My advice, try and avoid the sweaty ones. They are often already well into their cups or… just sweaty.”
Lucinda laughed, but considering the heat of the room, would not all the men be sweating? She certainly felt she mayneed to fan herself vigorously to keep herself cool. Thinking of her fan gave her an idea.
“We can use our fans instead of a code word. If I place my fan on my left cheek, it means no and that can be our signal to interrupt.”
“How clever you are, Lucinda. If we place it on the right cheek, it means we say yes and will accept a dance. This will be fun.” They picked up their lemonade and made their way back to the dowager duchess.
“We got one for you too, Mother,” Marianne said.
“Thank you, dear. Not that any gentlemen will be asking me to dance.” She winked at the girls and they both laughed. The dowager obviously knew of the lemonade trick too, or perhaps she was the one who had told Marianne.
Tony approached. “You two seem very merry.”
“Marianne is giving me all the tricks to surviving a ball.” Lucinda raised her glass.
“Ah, plotting and planning already I see. Shall I point out who to avoid making your evening easier?”
Lucinda nodded. “Oh, yes, please.”
Tony spent the next few minutes pointing out who was who. He really did know everyone.How does he keep so many names in his head?Lucinda’s was already spinning. She tried to remember the things that stood out about every person. Yellow waistcoat Lord Lumley, ridiculous hair Lord Martin, and so on.
Tony took her out for her first dance. “How are you enjoying it so far?”
“Well, it is very crowded and hot.”
He laughed. “True, but are you enjoying it?”
