“Thank you,” I said to her.
“We must first present ourselves to the Marquess and Marchioness of Crewe,” Lady Paget said to us, “and then I have a few other introductions to make before I hand you off to dance. Does that sound acceptable?”
Mother nodded. “Most acceptable.”
As we moved through the ballroom, several people tried to capture Lady Paget’s attention, their inquisitive gazes sliding to me, but she seemed just as single-minded as Mother. A part of me wondered why Lady Paget was being so helpful and friendly. She hardly knew us. She couldn’t be doing this because of our American connection. Did she stand to gain something if a match was made? Was Mother paying her?
The thought sickened me, but I wouldn’t be surprised. My mother had a lot to gain from marrying her daughter to an English aristocrat. I could envision her preening under the approval of Mamie Fish, Alva Belmont, and Theresa Fair Oelrichs, thetriumvirate of New York Society, the women who had replaced Mrs. Astor to reign over the famed Four Hundred.
“Oh my,” Lady Paget said as she stopped and lifted her fan.
“What?” Mother asked.
“He’s here. He’s come.”
“Who?”
“The Most Honorable Marquess of Cumberland, Reginald Fairhaven.” Lady Paget fanned her flushed face, glancing slyly at me. “Could we be so fortunate?”
“Indeed.” Mother’s voice was low and calculating. She had the latest copy ofBurke’s Peerage, Baronetage and Knightagein her desk at Berkeley Square, and she studied it religiously. The yearly publication was dedicated to the genealogy of aristocracy in England. No doubt Mother knew exactly who this man was, who his ancestors were, and where his ancestral home was located.
“He is one of the most sought-after bachelors in England at the moment,” Lady Paget said, “rising in rank and social power. He’s currently one of the Lords Commissioners of the Treasury and is at the prime minister’s side almost constantly. It’s rumored he is being groomed for higher political ambitions. His ancestral home is on the coastal moors near Whitby. It’s quite extensive.” She lifted her fan to cover her mouth. “It’s also rumored that he is on the hunt for a wealthy heiress. Cumberland Hall is facing ruin if it’s not saved, and that would reflect poorly upon his political ambitions.”
Lady Paget and Mother both looked at me. I met their gazes with disinterest. What Lady Paget was hinting at was Lord Cumberland’s need for money, and what better way to acquire it than to marry the daughter of a wealthy American? This Lord Cumberland meant nothing to me—the same as all the others they had introduced me to over the past three weeks. I wasn’t interested in his crumbling manor house or his political ambitions.
“Oh, Elizabeth,” Mother said, “I do wish you’d stop acting so bored. You stand to gain the most from a prosperous match. And just think—perhaps you could be married to the prime minister of England one day.” Her eyes grew wide, and I could almost see the thoughts running through her mind.
What would I possibly gain by marrying a marquess or the future prime minister of England? Gooseflesh raced up my back at the very thought. How could I align myself with the nation we were fighting in my other path? I knew dozens of men in 1774 who were about to put their lives and fortunes in harm’s way to seek independence from England—including Henry. It felt treasonous even to consider pursuing a man who represented everything I abhorred.
They were both looking at me expectantly, so I had to say something. I lifted a shoulder. “I have no wish to live on the coastal moors.” I longed to say more—so much more—but it would be rude to Lady Paget, and Mother would never understand.
Mother simply turned up her nose and addressed her comrade-in-arms. “Will you introduce us, Lady Paget?”
“I daresay I will.” Lady Paget lowered her fan again and smoothed the sides of her gown. A pink tinge of excitement filled her cheeks as she redirected our path.
Lady Paget had not pointed Lord Cumberland out to us, and standing in this mess of humanity, he could have been any number of gentlemen positioned around the room. Some were old, some were tall, some were fat, and some had red noses from too much drink. None of them caught my eye or my attention.
Boredom overwhelmed me, and I found my mind wandering to Henry, as it often did. We had not spoken since I had taken the forms to the capitol. I spent much of my time working and rarely attended the social events around Williamsburg. The burgesses had been meeting for almost three weeks, and theirprinting needs were more than I had anticipated. They had not yet announced their solidarity with Boston, though there were rumors aplenty.
“There,” Lady Paget said under her breath, pulling me from my thoughts.
A gentleman stood alone in a black tailcoat with a white tie near one of the many fireplaces in the ballroom, almost as if he were waiting. The fireplace was not lit but was adorned with a wide garland of fresh-cut flowers and reeked of artificial perfume. He held a glass of dark amber liquid, which he sipped as his gaze found mine. His hair was so light brown that it was almost blond, and he wore a small mustache above his full upper lip. The eyes that watched our approach matched the color of his hair.
He let his dispassionate gaze slip over me from head to foot, as if assessing the purchase of a horse or an automobile, and a spark of interest straightened his spine.
“Lady Paget,” he said as he set his glass on the mantel and gave his full attention to her. He took her gloved hand, with its sparkling diamond rings, and bowed over it. “How very nice to see you again.”
“My lord.” Lady Paget curtsied. “May I present my dear friend, Mrs. Wells from New York City?”
Her dear friend?
Lord Cumberland took Mother’s hand and bowed over it. “It’s a pleasure to meet you, Mrs. Wells.”
Mother curtsied, one eyebrow raised in interest.
“Mrs. Wells, may I present the Most Honorable Marquess of Cumberland, Lord Reginald Fairhaven?”
“I’m honored, my lord,” Mother said. “This is my daughter, Anna Elizabeth.”
