“Albina, what do you think?” Lady Chase leaned over Ciaran and tapped Lady Atherton’s arm with her fan. She nodded toward the redhead. “I vow I’ve seen her face, but I can’t quite recall where. It’s excessively provoking!”
“My dear Anne, don’t you know? Why, Lady Essex was talking about her just this morning in the Pump Room.” Lady Atherton leaned across Ciaran, lowering her voice. “That’s the Earl of Bellamy’s daughter.”
Ciaran straightened in his seat. An earl’s daughter? It was the very last thing he’d expected to hear. He’d met scores of earl’s daughters last season in London, and this lady wasn’t like any of them. Not many earl’s daughters hung about at bare-knuckle prizefights.
“Bellamy! My goodness. She doesn’t look much like old Bellamy, does she? At least, not what I remember of him. She must resemble her mother.” Lady Chase lowered her quizzing glass with a sigh. “Poor thing.”
Ciaran’s brows drew together. “Poor thing? Why?”
Lady Atherton echoed Lady Chase’s sigh. “I suppose she’s off to London for the season once she leaves Brighton. She hasn’t even arrived yet, and already thetonis gossiping about her. I’m afraid they won’t be kind to her, given the rumors about her father.”
Ciaran jerked his gaze toward Lady Atherton. “What rumors?”
Lady Atherton didn’t answer him. She was deep in consultations with Lady Chase, and both of them appeared to have forgotten he was there. “Does she have any money?”
“Old Bellamy had plenty of it. Never had occasion to spend it, did he? Well, it will be a great deal easier for her if she’s possessed of a grand fortune. Thetonwill overlook a good deal if she’s a wealthy heiress, even madness.”
“Madness! For God’s sake, she isn’t mad!” She was unconventional, yes, but there was no crime in that. Ciaran’s own sister Isla was unconventional, and she was the sanest person he knew.
His voice must have been sharper than he realized, because Lady Chase raised an eyebrow at him. “Oh? And how would you know that, sir? Have you met her?”
“No, I…no.” It wasn’tquitea lie. They’d never been introduced. He didn’t even know her name. “That is, I spoke to her once, by accident, and I tell you she’s perfectly sane.”
Lady Chase noticed his distress, and reached over to pat his hand. “Of course, she is, but people will call her mad, just the same. Her father wasn’t quite right in the head, and they’ll imagine the same of her, even if she’s as sane and sober as a judge.”
People will call her mad…
Ciaran closed his eyes, pinching the bridge of his nose.
Bloody, bloody, bloody hell.
He’dcalled her mad—the day of the bout, after Vale left and he’d been alone with her in his carriage. He’d noticed the notebook and pencil clutched in her fist, and he’d said something about how she must be mad to be drawing in the middle of a brawl.
And she…
Ciaran’s jaw went tight as he recalled the way her dark eyes had dimmed, and the smile had fallen from her lips. She’d gone very quiet, and a few moments later she’d asked to be let down from the carriage.
He smothered a groan. Had she thought he was mocking her, or her father? She’d never told him her name, but if the old ladies in Brighton were already gossiping about her, she might have believed he recognized her.
“What’s her name?” Ciaran asked, his voice hoarse.
“Lady…lady, er…” Lady Chase turned to Lady Atherton. “Albina?”
Lady Atherton looked as puzzled as Lady Chase. “I couldn’t say. I’ve only ever heard her referred to as Bellamy’s daughter. One doesn’t hear much about her, does one, aside from in relation to her father. The girl’s always been rather a mystery. I don’t think she’d ever been out in company before she came to Brighton.”
Damn it. If she’d appeared that suddenly, she could disappear just as quickly. This was the first time he’d seen her since the bout, and there was no telling when she might turn up again. If he didn’t speak to her now, he might not get another chance. He just needed a quick word, a chance to offer an apology, or at least an explanation.
Lady Chase tapped his arm. “If you wish to speak to her, you’d best do it at once. It looks as if they’re leaving.”
The concert wasn’t over, but her party had risen from their seats and were making their way toward the exit. Without thinking, Ciaran shot to his feet. His sudden movement caught her attention, and her head snapped toward him.
Their gazes locked, and the room seemed to blur around him as they stared at each other.
Such dark eyes…
Dazed, Ciaran took a step toward her, but a single step was as far as he got.
She blinked, her face expressionless, and then…then she deliberately dropped her eyes, and turned away.
