It was Kate’s turn to sigh, but instead she laughed softly. “Why is it that wisdom and inclination so rarely go hand in hand? But I will be practical. I must. And once I convince Mr. Prufrock to take me on as his assistant, I am unlikely to ever have any more to do with Ashleigh. Unless he comes in to buy a book.”
Nonetheless, as she sat with her needlework—a pillowcase that required mending—she could not keep impractical thoughts and desires away. He had given her his arm as they walked. It was a perfectly ordinary courtesy. A gentleman always offered his arm to a lady when they walked together. But it was not a courtesy that a gentleman would offer to a shopkeeper.
If her brother had been at all a decent man, if he had introduced her to society in London and she had met the Duke of Ashleigh at a concert or at a ball… she could imagine herself meeting him on equal terms, being taken in to dinner on his arm, perhaps even waltzing with him at a ball. She could imagine what it would feel like to be held in his arms. Her eyes closed and she felt a surge of… of something… she was not sure what it was, but a surge of something swept through her and she felt her cheeks grow hot.
Just walking beside him had been wonderful. She had been able to feel the strength of him through all the layers of cloth in his sleeves. And he listened to her. He actually asked her opinion and heard what she said. He talked of things like honor and obligations as if they mattered. She closed her eyes and gave herself up to the fantasy for a moment.
Her eyes stung with tears of anger at her brother. It was not that he had tried to sell her, to turn her into a whore. She had been able to escape that. But he, and her father before him, had stolen her life. They had taken the life she could have had and tossed it away on the gaming tables. There was no way she could ever recover that. She could never enter society. She could never have the kind of marriage to which her birth might have entitled her.
She gave herself a mental shake. Had she lost her mind? Was she longing for a man she barely knew just because he was honorable and responsible, so unlike her brother? Just because he was so handsome, so very beautiful?
The most beautiful man she had ever seen.
Stop that! she told herself. She was not some mindless little fool to fall in love with a handsome face.
The duke was not for her and never could be.
To have found refuge with Aunt Franny, to have the possibility of owning a shop that could provide her with a living for the rest of her life—this was more good fortune than she had any right to expect. Owning the bookstore would make her safe. She would have escaped her brother’s control. She would have escaped any man’s control. She would be the one in charge of her own life.
She would not have to be afraid.
That would be enough. That had to be enough.
Even if it made the future she truly wished for impossible.
Her neglected needle pricked her finger.
She would be safe, but surely she could spare a moment to regret what might have been.
Chapter Five
Lady Clara Grammont was going to attend the Assembly Ball, to be held in the ballroom of the Crown Inn.
To most people, notice of this fact would have brought, at most, a smile of acknowledgement. To Lady Clara, however, few announcements could have brought greater joy, for she was not officially out, and this would be her first ball. She had a new dress—white muslin, of course, but with lovely embroidery on the flounce at the hem and around the neckline. And she had silk stockings and kid slippers as soft as the stockings.
Her excitement made it difficult for her to sit still which, in turn, made it difficult for her maid to put the finishing touches on her toilette.
“If you do not sit still, my dear, you will not be ready in time to leave with the rest of the party,” said Lady Talmadge, trying to conceal her amusement at her daughter’s enthusiasm.
That froze Lady Clara in place. “Oh, Mama, do not say such things.”
A relieved maid quickly tweaked the last curl into place and tucked the last silk flower into the curls. “There you are, my lady.”
Her mother nodded approval and trailed behind as Lady Clara flew down the stairs to the hall where the rest of the party was gathered.
“I am here, Uncle Peter, and you mustn’t scold me for being late.”
Ashleigh smiled fondly down at her. “How could I possibly scold anyone who looks as enchanting as you do?”
“Do I really?” Lady Clara grinned. “Then you must promise to dance with me, so that all the other young men will.”
“Really, Lady Clara, you must try to remember your position,” drawled Miss Webster, smoothing a nonexistent wrinkle out of the pink kid gloves that matched her silk gown so perfectly. “Your uncle may be generous enough to grace the local assembly with his presence, but there is unlikely to be anyone there who would be considered an acceptable partner for his niece.”
Lord and Lady Ambruster nodded approvingly at their daughter. Bancroft looked at her with distaste.
Lady Clara turned a stricken face to her uncle. “Oh no, Uncle Peter, you can’t mean that I am to go to my very first ball and not be allowed to dance!”
Ashleigh smiled reassuringly at her. “Never fear, pet. You will wear out your slippers dancing.” He turned to the Ambrusters. “We are not so high in the instep here that we cannot share in the pleasures of our neighbors.”
“If you say so, my lord,” said Ambruster, “but I fear it sets a poor example. There’s too much noise about reform abroad these days. Men like you need to see that people keep in their place and don’t get ideas above their station. To do that, you need to remember your own position.”
Lady Talmadge saw the mutinous look on the face of her daughter, to say nothing of the flash of irritation in her brother’s eyes at Ambruster’s presumption. She put a firm hand on her daughter’s shoulder and announced, “I believe the carriages are here.”
Ashleigh caught himself up, nodded to his sister, and said, “Yes, we must be on our way. It would not do to delay everyone’s pleasure.”
Rather to the annoyance of all the Ambrusters, the duke did not join them in their carriage. Nor did Bancroft, but he did not matter, being only a distant cousin.
*
At Hawthorne Cottage, Kate was also preparing for the ball, with quite as much eagerness as Lady Clara had shown. She tried to subdue herself but it was not easy, especially with her aunt encouraging the enthusiasm.
“It’s just that I’ve never been to a ball before,” she said, trying to explain away her delight, “and I’ve never had such a beautiful new gown.” She looked down at the pale green muslin with the three rows of ruching on the skirt, each one a darker green. She poked out a foot to smile with delight at the kid slipper with a green rosette.
Franny looked at her niece with pride. Kate looked positively regal with her hair in a crown of braids.
That might be a problem, she thought. Kate not only looked like a princess, she held herself like a princess. In Yorkshire, whatever society Kate had moved in was doubtless severely limited, and unlikely to have held anyone of superior station to a viscountess and her daughter. Mary would have held on to her pride, even if she had little else—or because she had little else—and had clearly instilled that pride in her daughter.
It was difficult to know what to do. It had taken years for Frances to stop thinking of herself as a gentlewoman, a baronet’s daughter, and to think of herself instead as a merchant’s wife. In truth, she had difficulty doing so to this day. Could Kate remember to humble herself, at least for these months while the masquerade was necessary? She spoke hesitantly. “My dear, you will remember that for the present you are Miss Darling and not Miss Russell?”
Kate stilled in her admiration of her slippers, then she looked up and smiled. “Don’t worry, Aunt Franny. I will treat the duke with all due deference and keep my distance,” she said. “It should not be difficult. He is an honorable man, if a trifle stiff.” It will be exceedingly difficult
, but I will manage it. I must.
Mrs. Darling sighed. “There will be others at the ball, you know. And you may need to grant them precedence, and not feel insulted.”
“I know, Aunt Franny. I will be polite and deferential to any Lady Wiltons who appear.” Kate grew serious for a moment. “It is not as if I have ever derived any great benefit from my father’s title. At least Miss Darling need not fear that her family will be so impressed with a title that they will marry her off to a dissipated viscount as my mother was. Instead, Miss Darling will be able to dance happily with tradesmen and farmers’ sons and enjoy herself thoroughly.”
“I can’t help but worry. You must remember that there are villainous merchants as well as villainous viscounts, and a man who is well-born may nonetheless be an honorable gentleman.”
Kate smiled fondly at her aunt. “You fear I may be both too mistrustful and not mistrustful enough?”
“Yes,” said Frances, “and, sad to say, mistrust is doubtless safer than foolish trust.”
A knock at the door announced the arrival of Dr. Goddard. The kindly doctor had offered his carriage for the ladies of Hawthorne Cottage, lest their finery get spattered with mud on the walk to the village. For this, Kate, thinking of her lovely slippers, was most grateful. Seeing the color in her aunt’s face as the doctor handed her into the carriage suggested to Kate still another reason to be pleased with the arrangement.
*
The ballroom at the Crown Inn did not resemble the ballroom of the Duchess of Richmond, whose ball in Brussels the night before Waterloo had gone down in history, nor could it equal the ballrooms in which any of the celebrated hostesses of London welcomed their glittering guests. There was not a marble pillar in sight, and the floor had given up all pretense of gleaming with polish decades ago. Instead of huge bouquets of hothouse flowers, the room was decorated with modest nosegays of primroses and narcissus and the flowering branches of cherry trees. Champagne did not flow from lavish fountains, and footmen did not carry trays of crystal glasses, though there was a bowl of punch for the gentlemen and another of lemonade for the ladies.
The greatest difference, however, lay in the demeanor of the guests. There were no faces of frozen ennui, no graceful fingers trying not too hard to cover yawns of boredom. Instead, all present seemed delighted to be there. Franny and Kate had barely been able to remove their cloaks before they were engulfed by a sea of welcoming faces. Kate had already met many of the women and was promptly introduced to those she did not know. They, in turn, introduced her to their husbands, brothers and sons, so that half a dozen partners had claimed dances before she could catch her breath, and before the party from Kelswick entered.
Harold Marshall, an attorney and a round tub of a man who tended to see himself as the man responsible for everything in Lewes, bustled over to greet the duke. “Your Grace, you do us great honor, great honor, indeed. Your presence, and that of your lovely sister and niece”—he bowed low to Lady Talmadge and Lady Clara—“sheds a luster over our gathering not to be equaled.”
Ashleigh smiled and shook his head. “And we have delayed everyone’s merriment by our lateness, so you had best tell the musicians to begin. Clara, will you do me the honor to stand up with me for the first set?” He held out his hand to his niece, who turned pink with pleasure, and took his hand, too excited to speak.
As they took the floor, followed by easily a dozen other couples, Miss Webster turned to Lady Talmadge with a rather frozen smile. “The duke is quite an indulgent uncle to your daughter,” she observed. “I wonder you do not fear that she will grow spoiled and willful.”
“Indeed,” put in Lady Ambruster. “She does seem remarkably forward for such a young girl.”
Lady Talmadge’s lips tightened, but she contented herself with a look of such icy disdain that Lady Ambruster flushed.
“But Clara is completely charming in her enthusiasm. Far better than being an insipid twit without a thought for anything but fashion and propriety, don’t you think?” said Bancroft. He smiled coldly at the Ambrusters, then turned his back to them and bowed to his cousin. “Lady Talmadge, would you honor me with this dance?”
For him, Lady Talmadge had a smile of pure pleasure. Dear Stephen, who was always there when she needed him. They went to join the set that was forming, stepping perfectly in time with each other.
Miss Webster started to frown, but then remembered that frown lines led to wrinkles, and arranged her face into a small smile instead.
*
As the sets came and went, Lady Clara and Kate danced with all the young men under thirty, and Lady Talmadge and Frances danced with their fathers. Ashleigh and Bancroft danced with all the wallflowers. To be invited to dance by the duke was undoubtedly a great honor, but the young women so honored seemed to find it a terrifying experience. Miss Brockman, for example, did not dare look him in the face and, with her head averted, found it difficult to meet her partner in the dance. Miss Carter, on the other hand, could look nowhere except in his face, and giggled in response to each of his comments.
Bancroft had more success at putting his partners at ease. He had each of his partners smiling happily before her set was ended. By the time he returned Miss Prentiss to her mother’s side, the girl had quite forgotten that her carroty curls were unfashionable, and she looked so delighted with life that she was soon claimed for all the remaining dances.
Ashleigh wished he knew how his cousin managed it. He could smile and relax easily enough with his family, or even with the men of the town, but with shy young ladies? He searched again for a topic of conversation.
“Do you enjoy music, Miss Hunter?” he tried.
“Yes, my lord,” Miss Hunter whispered.
“And do you play yourself?”
“Yes, my lord.”
“What instrument? The pianoforte?”
“Yes, my lord.”
“Ah, an excellent choice. It offers the opportunity for such a wide choice of music.”
“Yes, my lord.”
The gods were merciful, and the set came to an end. He returned Miss Hunter to her parents and looked around. The Ambrusters formed a little island to themselves, having frozen off anyone with the temerity to approach. He berated himself for his neglect. They were, after all, his guests. He led Miss Webster to the floor. But conversation with Miss Webster proved no easier than conversation with his earlier partners. Each of his comments in praise of the company, the music, even the weather was met with a raised eyebrow or a sniff. Then as the set ended, they found themselves face to face with Kate and Bancroft, both of them smiling happily. For a moment, Ashleigh was struck dumb with amazement, as Clara had promised. Fashionably dressed and with her eyes bright with pleasure, Miss Darling did, indeed, look extraordinarily beautiful. The sight of her struck him like a blow.
“Your Grace,” she said, with a graceful curtsey.
Ashleigh acknowledged the greeting with a bow, which gave him a chance to recover his breath. “Miss Webster, may I make known to you Miss Darling, the niece of an old friend.” Turning to Kate, he continued, “Miss Webster is visiting Kelswick with her family.”
The two women exchanged wary nods.
“I trust you are enjoying your visit, Miss Webster.”
“Kelswick is, indeed, a most beautiful estate, and Ashleigh’s kindness cannot be faulted.” Miss Webster fluttered her fan and glanced about at the company. “His affability is almost excessive when he brings his guests to an affair such as this.”
Kate started to stiffen, and then forced herself to smile. “Oh, Miss Webster, I am sure everyone here knows precisely how to value your condescension in gracing our ball with your presence this evening.”
Ashleigh choked down a laugh. She had done it again. The girl clearly had no idea when to hold her tongue. He had himself found Miss Webster’s comment offensive, so he could hardly be surprised that the prickly Miss Darling reacted as she did. On the other hand, he really could not allow an insult to his gues
t to pass. What on earth could he say that would not sound insufferably priggish?
Before he could say anything, however, Kate excused herself to return to her aunt, leaving Ashleigh to lead Miss Webster back to her parents.
“She is quite nicely spoken, and has pretty manners,” said Miss Webster. “Is she a gentlewoman? At an affair of this sort, one cannot be certain.”
Ashleigh looked at her in surprise. Miss Webster had not realized she had been insulted? She had given him a reprieve. He smiled slightly. “As I said, Miss Darling is the niece of an old friend.”
“Really, Ashleigh, that is no answer at all. You speak of farmers and tradesmen as your friends, yet you must know that there can be no friendship where there is no equality of station. To say there is encourages presumption. I only asked about Miss Darling because she seemed on such easy terms with your steward. He is, after all, a connection of yours, though distant. If she is not someone he can marry, he may be raising her hopes unfairly and find himself in an untenable situation.”
“I am sure Miss Darling would be very grateful for your concern,” he said stiffly. He had not noticed anything beyond ordinary civility between Bancroft and Miss Darling. Of course, she had been smiling and looking happy, and he had not seen her smile often, but Bancroft was always good at teasing people into relaxation. Should he have noticed something more? Surely Bancroft was much too old for her. He must be what? Thirty-six? More? Old enough to be her father.
Miss Webster closed her eyes and endeavored to look calm, not exasperated. “It is not Miss Darling who rouses my concern, but your cousin. His situation is precarious at best. You seem to have some fondness for him, but if he marries foolishly, he could sacrifice all claim to your concern. Your affability may already have given him ideas above his station. I was quite shocked to see him dancing with your sister and speaking to her quite familiarly.”
A Debt of Dishonor Page 7