“Sister of Lord Danforth and the wildest debutante of the nineteenth century, without exception,” Lady Fitzhugh whispered into Helen’s ear as they moved away from Lady Phoebe and Miss Danforth.
Faces, names, ballgowns blurred together as Lady Fitzhugh gave out names and titles and Helen curtsied and curtsied.
Finally, Lady Fitzhugh drew Helen aside, gesturing to a footman bearing a tray to approach them as she did so.
“I mustn’t let you get too overwhelmed with meeting other ladies, Lady Kinmarloch.” Lady Fitzhugh took two glasses from the footman’s tray. “Here, dear, sip this lemonade. We must reserve some of your energy for the the gentlemen. Lord Burchester is finding partners for you. He’ll bring them to Lady Titchfield to have them introduced to you. You will dance so many dances tonight.”
“Thank ye, Lady Fitzhugh.”
But it was Phineas who was Helen’s partner for the first dance, a quadrille. Throughout the dance, he chatted to her about the room, the other guests. He was just as talkative as Lady Fitzhugh. But when the dance was over, he returned her to her chaperone with a worried look and crossed the ballroom to mix with a group of gentlemen.
Helen saw subtle looks cast her way from the men after Phineas approached them. Appraisals from across the room. Heads shaken,no. And Phineas was moving on to another cluster of gentlemen.
Helen made her spine into a rod of iron.
She turned to Lady Fitzhugh. “Ye mentioned the young ladies ye usually chaperone. They dinnae come to balls while in mourning then?”
“Oh, no, my dear. That wouldn’t do at all. In fact, there has been a great deal of scandal recently since the Duchess of Dunmore is in mourning but has been having dinners in her home and accepting invitations for house parties. Her husband died recently, you know.”
“Aye.”
“Of course, you must know that since Dunmore is also in Scotland. I have to tell you,” Lady Fitzhugh shook her head, “Miss Elizabeth Hamilton never understood propriety. That was her name before she married the duke. And I never liked her. She was engaged to another man first, a very handsome man, a navy captain who was making a name for himself, and she broke it off quite cruelly and married Norman MacNaughton days later, just before his father died. When it was certain he would be the next Duke of Dunmore. Everyone said she had seduced her husband while still engaged to the other man. Oh, what was that man’s name? Jack Pitt.”
“Pike,” Helen said, the sapphire necklace suddenly a weight around her throat.
“Yes, that’s it, but since his cousin died, he now goes by his fath—
“Lady Kinmarloch.”
Reeves stood in front of her, giving her a slight bow. She was startled. Like her, he didn’t belong here. Then she remembered his plan of coming to London to look for a wife.
“Lord Reeves.” She curtsied. She realized she did not know Lady Fitzhugh’s precedence. “Uh, Lady Fitzhugh, this is Lord Reeves. From the Highlands.”
The two exchanged a bow and a curtsy as gentlemen and ladies began to assemble at the center of the ballroom floor.
A sneer. “I see you have no partner. May I have this dance, Lady Kinmarloch?”
Helen panicked. “I-I-I dinnae waltz, Lord Reeves.”
“It’s not a waltz, Lady Kinmarloch,” Lady Fitzhugh said, “it’s, oh dear, I believe it’s a country dance. And since you know Lord Reeves already, you need not wait for an introduction from Lady Titchfield.” Lady Fitzhugh smiled and nodded.
Helen found herself on Reeves’ arm, being led away from Lady Fitzhugh.
“I was surprised to see you here, Lady Kinmarloch. I did not think you had funds for travel like this.”
“I . . .”
“Dressed in silk and wearing jewels, you almost look presentable.”
The dance started and Helen was saved for a moment from having to say anything. It was not like her not to be able to think of something to say. But she was occupied by thoughts of a younger Jack Pike, his heart broken by a raven-haired beauty with a laugh like a bird singing.
“You do not compare to the other ladies here but it’s possible to see you might make a wife,” Reeves said as one of the figures of the dance brought him close to her.
“Where is your tongue, Lady Kinmarloch?” he asked a minute later, during another figure.
“In my mouth, Lord Reeves, where it belongs.”
“I can think of somewhere else your tongue could be.”
