Fanny gave a graceful bow and murmured something unintelligible.
“Welcome, Miss Hancock. I am pleased to make your acquaintance,” the marchioness said, studying Fanny closely, with glances back at Maddy. “No one would mistake you for anything other than a Caulfield, and I’ll wager there’s a story here.”
At Fanny’s gasp, the marchioness continued, “Never fear, my dear. Your story is your own. Do call on us. We’re at home on Tuesdays.”
“I don’t think that is a good idea,” Fanny murmured when the marchioness moved on.
Eli’s every instinct was to whisk her back to Ashmead if she was uncomfortable. “You don’t have to if you—”
“I disagree,” Lucy interrupted. “Lady Danbury is no high stickler.”
“Fanny’s fears are understandable,” Maddy said. “David and I determined long ago to introduce our siblings—our irregular siblings, if you’ll excuse the term—as exactly who they are, but there are some who frown on our openness.” She shook her head. “Lady Danbury isn’t one of those. She and the sort who frequent her at homes are freer thinkers.”
“You mean kinder,” Lucy said.
Fanny spoke sadly. “The merchant class can be every bit as brutal. There were some in our parish church who cut us because I’m a bastard. That is the word, isn’t it? We may as well say it.”
Lucy stiffened her back, but Maddy was equally blunt. “I’ll be honest—most in the upper classes would ignore illegitimacy in the sibling of an earl. Witness their acceptance of Rob. They are harder on women, however, and your origin in trade is likely to be a bigger barrier to many—not the Danburys, but many.”
Fanny met her gaze head-on. “I am unlikely to melt under disapproval, but I don’t want my life history pored over. Besides, I didn’t come here to be presented to the queen, either.”
Fanny’s refusal to bend filled Eli with pride on her behalf. They sidestepped two more groups, circled the Serpentine, and were on their way back to the gate before another party approached them. Traffic had picked up; two carriages passed with mere nods and one mildly curious stare. The third stopped, and a rather large woman garbed in yards of purple and an excess of ruffles called out to Maddy, referring to her as “Your Grace.”
“Good afternoon, Lady Parmbarton,” Maddy sighed. “I trust you are well.” Eli thought Maddy would choke on her irritation over the woman’s deliberate use of her former title.
Lady Parmbarton ogled Fanny, her calculating eyes missing nothing, least of all the Caulfield hair. “Well enough, well enough, Your—but it is Mrs. Morgan now, is it not?” she said, answering Maddy but studying Fanny.
The old witch undoubtedly knows Maddy eschews the title.Eli fought the urge to push Fanny behind him; it would only make things worse. “This wasn’t such a good idea,” he muttered.
The witch turned her venom on Lucy. “Lady Benson, is it? Mrs. Morgan hasn’t seen fit to introduce us, but then, you wouldn’t have been invited to the better parties, would you? And who,” she asked without waiting for an answer, “is your escort?” She inspected Eli as if he was a bug.
One cannot throttle a lady, he reminded himself. He bowed politely. “Mr. Eli Benson, Your Ladyship. I am Lady Benson’s brother-in-law.”
“Brother to a newly minted baronet, are you? Come for some town bronze?” the witch went on, her eyes darting to Fanny.
“I’m here on business for the Earl of Clarion,” Eli said.
“Ah yes, Clarion. Interesting family, the Caulfields. I take my leave. We are, I think, unlikely to meet. We aren’t the same sort.” She waved her carriage on.
“Not her sort? Thank goodness for that,” Lucy said, drawing laughs from the others. “What a horror.”
“She thinks she’s a dragon of society, but the truth is she isn’t received many places. Many can’t abide her,” Maddy said.
“What an unfortunate encounter,” a man said, cutting in on their conversation.
Eli turned to see two men on horseback behind them, one fashionably dressed, the other dressed simply. The first man’s horse appeared, in Eli’s judgment, to be one of those high-strung, overbred creatures that were not to be trusted. Perhaps he’d confused his assessment of the rider with his mount. Both men studied their party with more intensity than was polite. The taller, more plainly attired of the two fixed his gaze on Fanny, or so it seemed to Eli, and hairs on the back of his neck rose.
The fashionable gentleman dismounted and bowed to the ladies. “My apologies. I couldn’t help overhearing. That woman is not goodton.” Tall, blond, and blue-eyed, he was everything Eli was not; he was Fanny’s hero come to life. Eli wished him to the devil. “My apologies on behalf of society,” the gentleman went on smoothly.
Lucy smiled vaguely at the man, obviously acquainted with him.
Maddy knew him as well. “Miss Frances Hancock, may I present the Earl of Grimsley? My lord, this is my sister, Miss Hancock,” she said, her expression challenging.
“Sister!” The earl glanced back at his companion. He rose to the occasion, bowing over Fanny’s hand and murmuring, “I’m honored, Miss Hancock. You must be new; I’ve never seen you in town.” He held her hand longer than he needed to, in Eli’s opinion, and his gaze swept more than her face.
Fanny made her curtsey and offered brief thanks but said little. Maddy went on to introduce Eli, drawing little more than a nod from the earl.
“Will I see you at Pemberton’s musicale on Friday?” he asked, his words for the group but his gaze returning to Fanny.
