Chapter
Four
Lady Harriet.
Hattie stared at him, her heart giving a sickening lurch in her chest, unable to say a single word. In all the time she’d known Cass, he’d never once called her Lady Harriet. To him, she’d always been Hattie.
But she didn’t know this man, with his cold dark eyes and grim, unsmiling mouth.
Oh, why had she come here? It had been a mistake, a terrible mistake?—
“Windham! Whatever do you mean by keeping these delightful young ladies all to yourself?” The tall, dark-haired man who’d been standing with Cass earlier approached the carriage and offered them a polite bow. “How rude you are! Will you not introduce me?”
For one strained instant, it appeared as if Cass wouldnotintroduce him. Was he ashamed of them? They weren’t as frighteningly elegant as the ladies in the adjacent carriage.
The Cass she remembered would never have been so openly disdainful of a lady just because she wasn’t dressed in the height of fashion, but the man who stood before her now wasn’t the Cass she remembered.
This man looked as if he’d stumbled out ofAckermann’s Repositoryin his handsome bottle-green superfine cutaway coat, his tight, dark gray pantaloons tucked into a pair of glossy black Hessians, as the latest fashion dictated.
He was tall, his shoulders broad, and the thick waves backlit by the sun were nothing like the tousled, mahogany locks she remembered. His hair was shiny with pomade, the sweet boyish curls cut into a ruthlessly fashionablecoup au vent.
No, this wasn’t Cass. This was the Earl of Windham, and she hadn’t the first idea what to say to such an exotic, elegant creature. So, she said nothing, but sat there as silent as a cipher, with her mouth hanging open like a perfect fool.
Thank goodness for Lady Fosberry, who was as adept at smoothing over an awkward situation as any duchess. “Lord Hayward, how do you do? It’s been an age, has it not?”
“Since the end of last season, I believe. It’s always a great pleasure to see you, my lady. Since Windham’s manners seemed to have deserted him, perhaps you’d be good enough to introduce me to your companions.”
“Of course, my lord. These young ladies are Lord Melrose’s sisters. Lady Margaret, Lady Harriet, and Lady Sarah Parrish, may I present the Earl of Hayward?”
“Melrose’s sisters? But how wonderful! Your brother was a faithful friend to my late elder brother James. They attended Oxford together. I accompanied him to a house party at your lovely estate in Kent one summer, although that was years ago now.”
“I recall the occasion perfectly.” Margaret’s cheeks flushed when every head turned toward her in surprise. “I, ah, I mean I vaguely recall meeting one of my brother’s companions from Oxford. It was seven years ago, I think.”
“Yes, that’s right.” Lord Hayward offered Margaret a dazzling smile, his handsome dark eyes bright with pleasure. “Now Ithink of it, I believe we were introduced then, were we not, Lady Margaret?”
“We were, yes, though I’m surprised you remember it, my lord, as I was only fifteen at the time.”
“Of course, I do. I remember it with perfect clarity.” Lord Hayward bowed over Margaret’s hand, his lips hovering chastely over her gloved fingers. “I never forget a face, Lady Margaret.”
Margaret’s cheeks flushed crimson, and she was looking everywhere but directly at Lord Hayward, which was…a trifle disconcerting, as Margaret wasn’t the sort of lady prone to bashful blushes.
“Have you all come to London for the season?” Lord Hayward turned his winning smile on Lady Fosberry. “You are to be commended, my lady, for bringing such charming young ladies to Town.”
“They’re not here for the season,” Cass interrupted in a harsh tone.
Beside her, Sarah let out a soft gasp. It was unforgivably rude for him to answer for them, and Margaret’s face darkened to an ominous red, but before either of them could speak Hattie gave a quick shake of her head.
She had no idea what was happening here, but whatever it was it was dreadful, and an argument would only make it worse. She would not engage in a scene in the middle of Berkeley Square with half thetonlooking on.
“Not here for the season?” Lord Hayward frowned. “How disappointing. But we’ll see you at Lady Dumfries’s ball at the end of next week, surely? I know what great friends you and Lady Dumfries are, Lady Fosberry.”
Lady Fosberry inclined her head. “We’ll consider attending, my lord.”
“Wonderful. Now then, Windham, the ladies in our party are awaiting their ices, such as they are.” Lord Hayward grimaced atthe puddles of melted ice in their pewter cups. “I bid you a good day, ladies.”
Cass gave them a cool nod, then turned to follow Lord Hayward back to the trio of young ladies waiting in a nearby carriage, all of whom were now staring at them and whispering among themselves.
Hattie watched him go, hot tears pressing against her eyelids.
