Mary blinked. “What on earth are you talking about?”
Mr. Townsend pressed his lips together. “Perhaps we ought to discuss this in private, Miss Clemens?”
Absolutely not. She had no intention of being alone with this man.
Calculating the time it would take Mr. Crawford and Emily to reach the spot where she stood, she told Mr. Townsend. “There is no need for that. You may speak openly in front of Lady Cassandra.”
Mr. Townsend gave Cassandra a fleeting glance and cleared his throat. He paused for a moment before bluntly saying, “I am naturally referring to your dowry, Miss Clemens. Apparently, it still exists and will follow you into marriage in the event that—”
“I think I would like you to leave now,” Mary clipped. Of course her dowry of ten thousand pounds was to blame for Mr. Townsend’s increased attentions recently. The only problem being she had not wanted Mr. Crawford to know, because if he ever did offer for her, she wanted his decision to be made without money as the incentive. But it was too late for that now. He’d reached them faster than she’d expected and had heard every word.
“Just think of all the good we can do together with those funds,” Mr. Townsend prattled on. “The farm could get a new stable, and I could even purchase that parcel of land I’ve—”
“Enough,” Mr. Crawford cut in. “Miss Clemens has made her position clear. Please respect the lady’s wishes and walk away.”
Mr. Townsend turned to Mr. Crawford and looked him up and down as if assessing his opponent. “I…” he tried, but the strength had left his voice, and his dogged expression had waned.
“Go,” Mr. Crawford told him. He jutted his chin in the direction of the door.
Casting one final look in Mary’s direction, Mr. Townsend turned on a sigh and removed himself from their vicinity. Whether or not he left the assembly hall itself, Mary did not know, but she was glad her interaction with him was over.
“Would you like some wine?” Mr. Crawford asked.
Cassandra and Emily nodded, as did Mary. “Yes, please,” Mary said.
Leaving them, Mr. Crawford went to purchase four glasses. He was barely out of sight before Miss Amanda Partridge, the youngest daughter of a landed gentleman who lived nearby, came to greet them. She was accompanied by a handsome man with tawny hair and bright blue eyes.
“I hope we're not intruding,” Miss Partridge said. When Cassandra assured her they weren't, Miss Partridge gestured toward the man to her left. “This is my brother, Mr. David Partridge. I don't believe you've been introduced.”
Mr. Partridge took a small step forward and bowed. “It is an honor,” he said. Straightening, his eyes sought Mary and a welcoming smile immediately followed. “When my sister told me of your kindness and dedication toward the children you've taken in,” he said, slowly sliding his gaze toward Emily and Cassandra, “I was thoroughly impressed.”
“My brother donates to a couple of orphanages in London,” Miss Partridge said. “He's very invested.”
“I'm sure the children are grateful,” Mary said. Being the cynical sort, she could not stop from adding, “But in my opinion, giving money is easier than doing the actual work.”
To her surprise, Mr. Partridge's smile broadened. “A woman who speaks her own mind. If you ask me, there are too few of your kind in the world. Will you do me the honor of partnering with me for the next set?”
“I...” Mary was too confounded for words.
“I think I'm going to start being more blunt,” Emily said. “The men apparently love it.”
“Come, Miss Clemens.” Mr. Partridge offered his arm. “It looks as if the cotillion is about to begin.”
Accepting his invitation for the sake of politeness, Mary allowed Mr. Partridge to lead her onto the dance floor. She'd spoken with his sister a few times over the years when their paths had crossed in the village. Miss Partridge had always been pleasant, which had made it impossible for Mary not to like her.
Mr. Townsend was pleasant, too, until you got to know him better.
Recalling the reason for his interest in her, Mary considered Mr. Partridge more assessingly.
He guided her forward in time to the music. “Whatever are you thinking, Miss Clemens? Your scowl suggests you'd rather be elsewhere.”
“I'm sorry,” she said and skipped to one side. “May I ask an indelicate question?”
“They are my favorite kind.”
She smiled at him, liking his sense of humor. “Do you know who I was before I came to live with Miss Howard and Lady Cassandra?”
“I'm afraid not, Miss Clemens. Should I?”
