Page 53 of The Season of Lady Chastity

Chastity hadn’t noticed Luci’s parents beside her own father. She and Prudence offered quick greetings and curtsied. “My lord,” Chastity said. “Lady Camden, it is lovely to see you again. The ballroom appears a Christmastide wonderland, for certain.”

“Thank you for our gifts.” Prudence touched the golden pendant around her neck.

“You are both very welcome.” Lady Camden nodded graciously. “Your gowns are beautiful.”

“Yes, wherever did you have them made?” their father, Lord Downshire, asked. “I do not remember seeing a modiste bill, though I can say I would have paid handsomely if you both required more gowns commissioned.”

“They belonged to Mother.” Chastity smiled, waiting for recognition to dawn in her father’s eyes. When he did not immediately respond, Chastity glanced at Prudence. Certainly, their father would recognize such an extravagant gown. “We found them in mother’s trunks…in the attic.”

“It was not a favored gown then,” her father mused. “I mayhap remember Pru’s gown, but not the blue and black.”

Surprisingly, it was Lady Camden who spoke. “I believe she wore that particular gown to her coming-out ball at her parents’ estate in Dover. As balls go, it was a small affair, not many more guests than are here now. You look as utterly captivating as she did, my dear Lady Chastity.”

Chastity nodded her thanks to Lady Camden and turned to her father. It was Prudence who voiced the question they both had.

“Father, you truly do not remember it?” Prudence prodded.

“I did not meet your mother until she journeyed to London a few weeks after her coming-out.” Her father paused and nodded to a passing guest before he previewed the room, oblivious to the turmoil overtaking his daughter. “After our meeting, she never journeyed back to Dover. All the same, you look lovely, my dears. I imagine Triston has shared with you my request for the evening?”

His brow rose when neither Chastity nor Prudence responded.

“Torrington, have you been remiss?”

“Of course, not.” Tension laced each word. “I live to serve you, after all.”

Their father turned a sharp, piercing glare on his eldest child. To his credit, Triston leveled his own stare back at their father, refusing to back down.

What neither man noticed was the stark similarities between the looks.

“We shall promise to dance, Father,” Prudence said, breaking the tension.

“I believe Lady Hawke is attempting to gain your attention, Edith.” Chastity nodded toward the refreshment table, and Edith took the opportunity to pull Triston deeper into the ballroom and away from their small group while Prudence did her best to distract their father.

Chastity glanced down at her mother’s gown, going over everything she’d learned in the last few minutes. How could they have been so misguided? Or perhaps they’d purposely limited their beliefs surrounding the timing of the note they’d found. If her mother had worn the dress at her coming-out ball, then it meant she’d fallen in love with her dearest Cam before she married—and therefore, before she’d become pregnant with Prudence, not after she’d wed and moved to London. Could the pair have continued their affair after their mother had moved to London and started her family?

If so, what did that mean for Chastity and Prudence?

“Ah, here we are, gentlemen.” Her father chuckled, bringing Chastity back to the present.

When Chastity focused her stare, the Lords Comstock, Ruthven, and Liddell stood before them, bowing swiftly to her father.

“Lord Downshire,” Comstock heartily greeted as if he and her father were old acquaintances. “It is a pleasure to see you once more.”

“My lord. Gentlemen.” Her father gestured toward Prudence and Chastity. “May I introduce my daughters. Lady Chastity, and Lady Prudence.”

The lords fawned over Chastity and Prudence as if they hadn’t sat near one another at every meal since their arrivals at Oxburgh Hall. Perhaps they truly hadn’t noticed—or cared—who the two young women were until they realized they were Downshire’s daughters with healthy dowries and advantageous connections.

“You would honor me greatly, Lady Chastity if you placed my name on your dance card.” Ruthven’s grin was more of a leer, but when her father slapped the young man on the back and nodded, she suspected she had little option but to promise a set to the man. “That is if your card is not full.”

Comstock and Liddell chuckled.

Her cheeks flamed hotly, and she turned her focus to the card dangling from her wrist. It was true, she was rarely asked to dance, and so the notion that all of her dances were spoken for was a bit comical, but it was not for the scoundrels before her to comment on. To Chastity’s chagrin, her father didn’t address the men’s rudeness. Ruthven and his cohorts had relished taunting Bastian mercilessly. Chastity would enjoy nothing more than to lift her chin, turn the men down, and walk away.

Unfortunately, her father spoke first. “Of course, it appears the musicians are preparing to begin now. You are not spoken for, are you Chastity?”

Her card was indeed empty.

Oddly enough, she’d nearly forgotten her nub to write names on her card.