Sarah had been full of outrage over Meg’s father’s plans to move his family to the Continent. She’d invited Meg to stay with her for the remainder of the Season.
“Mother has refused, I’m afraid,” Meg had replied. “And Lucy has already tried.”
“Tried what?” Sarah had asked.
“She offered to allow me to live with her, to be my chaperone.”
“Your parents refused an offer from a duchess?”
“Father seemed to agree with the plan, but Mother was adamantly against it.”
Sarah planted her fists on her hips. “Your mother is awful. No offense, Meggie.”
Meg sighed. “None taken.”
“I simply cannot believe she’d want you to languish alone on the Continent instead of finishing out the Season here,” Sarah said.
“Her exact words were, ‘If you haven’t found a husband yet, there’s little chance of finding one now.’ Then she proceeded to inform me how much a London Season cost and how Father couldn’t afford to keep me here.Even after Lucy offered to pay for all of my expenses. Mother is quite proud. I understand. I cannot blame her.”
“Not too proud to run from your father’s creditors.” Sarah left off after she saw what must have been the miserable look on Meg’s face. “I’m sorry, Meggie, truly I am, but your parents are being so… difficult.”
“That’s one word for it.” Meg took another sip from her flute. Champagne was the only thing making her feel better this evening, especially after the arrival of Lady Eugenia. After her dance with Sir Winford last night, Meg had watched Hart dancing with Lady Eugenia. When he danced with the lady once more before the evening was over, Meg had decided she didn’t care for Lady Eugenia. She was the exact sort of woman Hart should marry. One his father would approve of. One with a hefty dowry and a family untouched by scandal.
“Don’t worry,” Sarah said. “Lucy’s informed me that we must step up our efforts.”
Alarm clutched Meg’s chest. “Step up our efforts at what?”
“With Sir Winford, of course.”
“Oh yes, Sir Winford.” Meg breathed a sigh of relief. She took another sip of champagne. “Of course.”
“Who else did you think—?”
Meg was spared having to answer that question by the arrival of Sir Winford and Lucy’s announcement to the entire room that it was time to go in to dinner.
“Miss Timmons,” Sir Winford said. “Her Grace asked me to escort you into the dining room. If you don’t mind.”
Meg pasted a smile on her face. “Thank you, Sir Winford.”
“I’ll just go in search of my husband, then.” Sarah scanned the room for Lord Berkeley.
The couples lined up together side by side in the drawing room. Meg and Sir Winford were near the back of the line due to their status, which meant, given his height, Meg had a clear view of Hart’s head and shoulders next to Lady Eugenia several paces in front of them. Meg cleared her throat, lifted her chin, and smiled widely at Sir Winford. Sarah had confirmed that Hart had decided to court Lady Eugenia. That news somehow made Lucy think she should invite Lady Eugenia to this dinner party. Meg failed to see how Lady Eugenia’s presence was helpful to their cause.
Perhaps Meg was a fool chasing Hart. Though he’d danced with her a few times and kissed her twice quite accidentally, not romantically, and he’d seemed to enjoy her company upon occasion, that hardly meant he would toss aside his years of breeding and duty to marry someone so far beneath him with no dowry. Hart’s parents expected a solid political and social alliance from his future wife, not the impoverished daughter of their sworn enemy.
Which was why Meg had determined this afternoon she would do her best to get to know Sir Winford. He seemed kind and pleasant. He was exactly the sort of man sheshouldbe thrilled to garner attention from. She was a wretched ingrate to be so inhospitable toward him. Besides, she owed the duchess a considerable sum for her gowns and slippers and reticules.
Though she knew Lucy would never force her to repay the debt, Meg had made a promise and she intended to keep it. Unlike her father, to Meg, a debt owed was adebt she must pay. Sir Winford had more than enough money to pay the debt. While it made her stomach turn to think of marrying for money, it was better than being banished to Spain. Sir Winford was pleasant and intelligent. Perhaps she could learn to love him. Vowing to try, she smiled at the knight more brightly as he escorted her in to dinner.
Meg resolved to avoid so much as looking in Hart’s direction during the dinner party.
It was a good resolve, too, until she entered the dining room and discovered she was seated directly across from him. The duchess had informed her guests this was to be an informal party, in which everyone might converse not only with the people sitting to their right and left, but also with those across from them. There was Lady Eugenia, sitting next to Hart, across from Sir Winford. Bother.
The wine was poured and the first course of squash soup was being served when Hart addressed Sir Winford. “Miss Timmons tells me you’ve an interest in horses, Winford.”
Sir Winford tugged at his lapels. “Yes, yes, indeed. I cannot pass up a race. Won the steeplechase in Devon last month.” This last part he said with a proud sideways look at Meg.
Hart’s jaw hardened. “Really? I won the steeplechase in Surrey a fortnight ago. We should race sometime.”
