“I understand you completely,” Lady Duncaster said.
“Perhaps you could share his identity with Aunt Eugenia, without making me aware of who he is,” Mary suggested, addressing her hostess.
“I am sorry,” Lady Duncaster said, “but I have given him my word.”
“But—”
“You must accept his reasoning as well, Mary,” Lady Foxworth said.
“Even if he is the only gentleman to ever spark my interest?” Mary asked. “It hardly seems fair!”
Sympathy filled Lady Foxworth’s eyes. “Perhaps that is because you have chosen to keep to yourself until now. But tonight you danced with three gentlemen, which means that you have been noticed. It is only a matter of time now before others show an interest, and once they do, then I am certain that one of them will prove to be worthy of your affection.”
“You are probably right,” Mary found herself saying. She was suddenly eager for the conversation to be over.
“Lord Rotridge looked quite taken with you,” her aunt added, sounding hopeful.
“Yes,” Mary said, suppressing a shudder. “He has invited me to go boating with him tomorrow.”
“Well there you are then,” Lady Foxworth said. “I have every confidence that you and the earl will have a marvelous time getting better acquainted. And if you decide that he is not for you, then I am sure that we will have no issue with finding someone else who is more to your liking.”
Mary nodded. She was not about to tell her aunt that she had no intention of marrying anyone or that the only man who’d ever come remotely close to potentially changing her mind about the subject had just been forbidden to speak with her. Doing so would only lead to a series of unpleasant questions that Mary was not prepared to answer.
“The Earl of Chadwick is exceedingly charming as well,” Lady Foxworth added. “Such a fine young gentleman. Would you be kind enough to make the necessary introductions, Lady Duncaster?”
“Of course,” Lady Duncaster said. She craned her neck and looked around. “There he is, ladies. Follow me!”
Mary cringed. “I dislike approaching him like this,” she told her aunt as they walked behind Lady Duncaster toward the opposite side of the terrace. “The idea of being forced upon a man with the expectation that he will keep me company or ask me to dance is humiliating.”
“Nonsense, my dear,” Lady Foxworth said. “Everyone does it. It is the way of things.”
“It is not the natural way,” Mary said. “And if he had ever had any interest in me, then he would have asked me to dance without being prompted to do so.”
“Please stop turning this into an ordeal and just enjoy yourself,” Lady Foxworth said.
Mary sighed. “Very well,” she agreed, “but only because of all the effort that you have gone to on my behalf.”
“Thank you.” Lady Foxworth gave Mary a wide smile.
“I should probably warn you not to get too excited,” Mary said. “Before Mama and Papa left for India, they told me to follow my heart, and I intend to do so.”
By the time Mary returned to her bedchamber two hours later, she was exhausted. Chadwick had proven himself to be delightful company, and she’d danced with three other gentlemen after him, each with a similar result: not one of them had heated her insides or made her skin tingle in response to their touch. They did not compare to Signor Antonio—a mystery man whom Mary would never be able to forget.
“Did you have a pleasant evening, my lady?” Mary’s maid, Amy, asked as she helped Mary disrobe.
“Partly,” Mary told her honestly. She hesitated a moment before saying, “I met a gentleman who was very much to my liking.”
If this surprised Amy, she did not show it. “What wonderful news!”
“Unfortunately, Lady Foxworth has forbidden him from ever seeing me again.” Aware that this wasn’t entirely true, Mary said, “Or at least until he reveals his identity.”
“You do not know who he is?”
Mary shook her head, her teeth catching her lip in contemplation. “He wore a mask and a hooded cloak.”
“And yet you still found him appealing?”
“Yes. I cannot seem to stop thinking about him and wishing that we would have had more time together.”
