Lord Lincester nodded, “Of course. You are my niece and among Isolde’s closest friends, it is a pleasure to have you. Now, the young woman’s name is Miss Eliza Downey. Her father is my business partner. He is in charge of all the coffee houses in Southern England, and thus a very important man.”
Isolde understood the meaning. They were to be on their best behavior. This was not the first coming-out ball Isolde had attended, though the first since returning to Roselawn Manor after the end of the London Season. She and Olivia had spent much of the summer at Lord Conner’s London home and thus attended several coming-out balls.
“Pray, what is the Downey’s connection to Countess Westchester?” Isolde asked.
“She is a cousin of Mr. Downey’s, married into the aristocracy.”
Henrietta’s eyes widened. “She was a commoner and wed an Earl? Well married indeed, I’ll say!”
Isolde caught the slight grin on her father’s face. He was as aware as she that Henrietta aimed to do well for herself.
“It is not all about titles, my dear niece. Once upon a time it was only the nobility that was wealthy and could afford a comfortable lifestyle, but these days the merchant class often outdoes the aristocracy when it comes to wealth. Downey for example, is worth much more than some of the members of the House of Lords.”
Henrietta scowled. She was of the same opinion as her father, Lord Lincester’s brother, that no matter how rich a merchant, they were always still a merchant and thus below them. If she did not see the chance to meet a rich, handsome lord, she certainly would not have asked to attend the coming out of a merchant’s daughter. Especially not since the recent quandary with the Marquess.
“That may be so, dear Uncle. But it is still very fortunate to marry into the finer society, is it not?"
Lord Lincester shrugged, "My brother certainly believes so."
Isolde looked outside. Two weeks had passed since her last ball. It was now the second week of December and the first snow had fallen. She hoped that they would have a snowy Christmastide this year. She looked forward to the season for this year, as they would host their friends at Roselawn. Both Henrietta and her family, as well as Olivia and hers were expected to spend much of the time period from Christmas Eve to Twelfth Night at their estate.
She loved this time of year, especially Christmas Eve when her father and brother would go out and select a Yule log to keep in the fireplace. Saint Stephan’s Day was her second favorite, for she loved arranging boxes to give away.
Her father was a generous man, and he enjoyed treating the people who worked for and with him well. As such, it was no surprise that he was so concerned about them being on their best behavior. He would want to make a good impression on his business partner.
* * *
The journey to the Westchester’s manor was short and they arrived at the ball shortly before eight in the evening. They found the grand manor outfitted for the ball. Many lords and ladies had already arrived, although the music was not playing which indicated that the young lady of honor had not yet opened the ball officially.
Isolde was pleased to see that her friend Olivia had already arrived. She was seated at a table toward the back of the ballroom with her mother, Lady Conner, and her brother Mister Thomas Brown, as well as the Countess Buxby. Upon seeing them, she was swiftly reminded of the unpleasant encounter she had had with the ladies at the previous ball.
Olivia’s face lit up when she saw them approach and she called out to them in an excited manner. Her mother instantly chastised her for the outburst as it was unbecoming of the young lady to display such emotion in public. However, Olivia did not seem to care, instead, she rushed around the table and greeted her friends.
“I am so pleased you have arrived. We have been here for an eternity and I am bored to tears of listening to the Countess. Shall we take a turn?”
The girls agreed, and while her Father made his way to their table, Isolde and her friends began walking around the room. An orchestra was set up, as was a supper room, although food had not yet been served. There was also a card room for the men to play.
The girls refreshed themselves with cups of fine wine and took position at the far end of the ballroom so they could see the entire room and, more importantly, be seen.
“What has become of Lord Canterbury? Has he made an agreement with your Father regarding the courtship?” Isolde asked, cup in hand.
Olivia rolled her eyes. “He still intends to court to me. Thus, my Father has found reason not to see him to discuss the matter, as he knows I am not keen. Fortunately, Lord Canterbury was called away to London. It shall be some weeks before he returns. Of course, my Mother is eager for his return. She has her heart set on a courtship with him.”
Henrietta played with one of the curls that hung in her face and eyed Olivia.
“I still do not understand why you do not wish to court him. He is worth at least four thousand a year. La, I would court him in a heartbeat.”
“I wish he would ask to court you instead of me, Etta, for I certainly do not wish to. He is simply not of interest to me.”
“He is an Earl, in line to be a Marquess!” Henrietta exclaimed. “I do not understand why you turn down suitor after suitor. Do you have your heart set on a certain gentleman we do not know about?”
A smile spread across Isolde’s face as she knew who her best friend’s heart truly belonged to. However, before Henrietta could make any further inquiries, the master of ceremonies called the room to order.
Chapter 6
“How did I lose three games of billiards, Hastings? I simply do not understand.”
“Your Grace has been injured; one cannot be expected to play at his best with the injuries you sustained.”
Jonathan shook his head. “I was silly to accept a wager in the condition I was in. Hastings, I declare I would have won had I not broken my rib.”
Jonathan sat in the parlor, accompanied by Hastings, as he waited for his friend to arrive to take him to the ball. It had been two weeks since he’d lost so spectacularly at billiards. He did not know it at the time, but the pain in his side had been due to a broken rib, which his physician had not detected until the second visit.
“I attempted to convince Gordon to let me out of the agreement, given I was injured, but he insists. Hastings, I shall say if it was not for the possibility of seeing the young lady I assisted, I would feign illness.”
The old man smiled. “Your Grace would do well to socialize a little more, now you are recovered. One unfortunate incident should not keep you from enjoying yourself. You used to be quite the dandy, if I recall.”
Jonathan nodded; it was true. He had always enjoyed the social life, especially the London Season. In fact, he had been a dandy, and popular with the ladies. Not as popular as his brother, Charles. Still, he’d always had several ladies vying for his attention. He had lost his taste for that life somewhere along his travels. Certainly, long before the events of the last ball.
“I was, Hastings, but much has changed. I no longer desire the hustle and bustle of the social life. Months in solitude, alone in carriages and on ships have shown me the virtues of quiet.”
The old man sat across from him and examined him with care.
“Your Grace understands he will need to find a suitable wife soon, as there are no heirs.”
Jonathan sighed, “I understand, Hastings. And I shall. I only hope I can find someone who can understand that I do not seek to be at every party and ball. I find there is so much more to life now.”
“I am certain you will. Perhaps a matchmaker may help?”
Jonathan shrugged. He had not given the matter much thought. The truth was on his travels he had met a great many beautiful ladies and he’d kept company with some of them. It had been nice to have the company of the ladies, especially when he found himself melancholy from being away from home for so long.
It had not, however, made him long for a wife. He had other concerns at present.
�
��Have the tenants paid now? I had a word with Forester and Jones this past week and they assured me they would make right with you post haste. Word would have spread to the others, surely.”
Hastings shrugged. “Most of them have. Jones is dragging his feet, but he has paid half of what he owed. Forester has paid but a quarter. I have heard through the other tenants that both his sons have taken ill. Rather severely so. This may well be why he has not paid.”
Jonathan sighed. “If this is the case, why has he not simply informed me?”
“Pride, Your Grace. Sometimes that is all a man has left. Forester’s wife left him this past summer. Took off with a yeoman and now lives in York.”
Jonathan’s eyes widened. It was most unusual for a wife to leave her husband in such a way.
“Go to Forester in the morning and tell him he will receive an extension on his tithe and rent. Until after Twelfth Night. No reason to ruin the man’s Christmastide when he has enough sorrows as is. Also, is Doctor West still in town? He told me he was to leave for Derbyshire for the Christmastide.”
Hastings nodded, “He is not due to leave until after Saint Nicholas Day.”
Jonathan was momentarily distracted by the sound of a carriage arriving. He looked out the window and saw Eric emerge from the back. He rose and smoothed his tan-colored breeches.
“I must go. But have the doctor attend to Forester’s sons and have him send the bill to me.”
Hastings rose and bowed. “You are truly your Father’s son, Your Grace.”
Jonathan gave a nod of acknowledgement and turned on his heel to greet his friend outside. As he stepped into the cold December air, a strange foreboding feeling spread in his belly. He’d felt it once in the past, just before receiving the letter regarding his father’s death. Yet, something was different. It did not make him feel dread, rather anticipation. With a shudder, Jonathan boarded the Lord Lincester’s carriage where Eric already awaited him.
Chapter 7
The Countess of Westchester appeared with the young lady. Isolde recognized her as she had met her briefly when her father had taken her to a business meeting in Bath. Eliza Downey was a tiny thing, no more than 5-feet tall and very slim. She’d been done up in a beautiful gown and her hair was pinned up with ringlets falling about her face. It had to be said that she was a beauty, outshining even Henrietta and Olivia. She would have no trouble attracting a husband, which was of course the purpose for the party.
The young lady opened the ball and chose the minuet as the first dance.
“The minuet? Oh la! What is this? 1799?” Isolde heard a voice, followed by giggles. She turned and saw Hester York standing behind her with another lady. Her body tensed as she vividly remembered their last encounter. They locked eyes at once.
“Miss Gordon, I had not seen you there. I do hope the Countess Westchester is aware you are here, for I’m certain she will want to lock away her good dishes in case you should drop them!” She giggled, joined by her friend.
Isolde, to her own surprise, felt a fire in her belly instead of the usual fear. The handsome stranger’s words echoed in her mind, the promise she’d made to defend herself the next time she encountered girls such as Hester. She balled her gloved hands into fists.
“Dear Miss Horton, it is lovely to see you here tonight. I am sorry to see you appeared to be ill. Are you not feeling well?” Isolde did her best to use the sweetest voice she could.
The young woman frowned, confused. “I am quite well. What makes you think otherwise?”
Isolde shrugged, “You appear rather flushed and …” she circled her fingers around Hester’s face, “red about the face. Oh la! I am sorry. I was in error. It is your blush. It is applied…liberally.” She turned to Henrietta. “Etta, is it in fashion now to have quite that much blush? As you know I am utterly unaware of such things.”
For a moment, she was unsure if Etta caught on to her charade, but then her cousin joined in her quest to make Hester doubt herself.
“It is not, Cousin. Certainly not as much as Miss York has applied. My. Has your mirror broken, Miss York? For…”
“Faith! You are right. Poor Hester…” Olivia chimed in as the young woman grew increasingly distressed.
“My maid applied my blush. That imbecile! I should have known she would mess me up. I thought I looked red when I viewed myself in the mirror but she assured me it was fine. Oh! Quickly, find me a mirror. There must be a mirror here in this mansion!”
She rushed off, followed by her friend who tried to convince her there was nothing wrong with her makeup. Isolde, Etta, and Olivia laughed, their hands in front of their mouths as not to draw attention.
“Isolde that was rather genius, and so unlike you! What has happened to you?” Henrietta looked at her proudly.
“I made a promise to someone to defend myself in the future and I do not like to break a promise.” She and Olivia exchanged a glance and a nod, since Olivia knew exactly of whom she spoke. Before they could converse further, a young man approached them.
“Miss Brown, would you give me the honor of dancing with me?” Isolde recognized him as Lord Morton, the young Earl and heir to the Marquess of Jost.
“It would be my honor,” Olivia replied. The Earl turned to Henrietta.
“And perhaps Miss Gordon could reserve the cotillion, later this evening?”
Henrietta curtsied to him as he departed with Olivia to wait their turn for the minuet. Her cousin placed a hand on the base of her back as if to comfort her.
“Someone will ask you to dance, Izzy. Do not fret.” Isolde did not get the chance to reply for her cousin was asked to dance, leaving her to join her father’s table.
* * *
“You are a gifted dancer, Lord Lincester!” Lady Conner exclaimed as they returned to their table after the minuet ended.
“As are you, Lady Conner!”
Lord Lincester placed a hand on his daughter’s shoulder as he returned to his seat. Her friends were still on the dance floor, each anticipating the quadrille with new partners by their sides. Olivia’s mother sat and coyly waved her hand in the air.
“You flatter me, Lord Lincester. Pray, is your son not joining us this evening?”
“He is, he decided to collect Lord Ekhard on his way. They will be joining us shortly.”
Isolde smiled. She was looking forward to seeing the Duke. She’d hoped to see him sooner but he had been unwell following a riding accident. Between standing up to Hester, the impending reunion with the Duke, and the possibility of seeing her mysterious lord again, this ball might not be as bad as she’d anticipated.
She leaned back as the quadrille began and glanced out of the ballroom toward the front door, just as the door opened and a new guest arrived.
Chapter 8
The ball was already in full swing when they arrived. Leaving the Lord Lincester’s carriage to be attended to by the driver, Jonathan followed his friend inside.
“Why, if it isn't the Duke of Ekhard. How are you, Your Grace?” the hostess greeted them with a curtsy.
“I am rather well, Countess. I thank you for extending an invitation to your ball, via Mister Gordon here.”
The woman smiled. “The pleasure is mine! How was India? You must be glad to be back in civilized society, I declare!”
Jonathan flinched. He'd loved his time in India, as well as the Caribbean and he did not like it when people spoke about his travels as if they were a chore. For truth be told, it was being back in this so-called civilized society that he found taxing. Not wanting to offend, he simply bowed and said, “It is good to be home.”
Not a lie. It is good to be home. I do enjoy the comforts my status allows me. It is nice to have my valet serve me hot chocolate when I arise, and to have a fire going whenever I please, but I miss the simplicity. Not an easy thing to explain.
“Well, you shall have no shortage of home comforts tonight, Your Grace. And no shortage of young, eligible ladies either!” she winked at him and he forced
a smile before Eric rescued him.
“Lady Westchester, it has been a pleasure as always. I must insist on dragging His Grace away for my Father anxiously awaits our arrival.”
“Of course, Mister Gordon, Your Grace. I am certain we will have opportunity to entertain each other's company later on. Now, I must go as well for the Marquess of Dorchester has arrived.”
She curtsied to Jonathan again in parting and then rushed off toward the front door to greet the next arrival.
“If I must participate in much more conversation such as this, I shall stick my spoon to the wall before the end of the night!” Jonathan said quietly as they entered the ballroom.
A Mistletoe Match For The White Duchess (Historical Regency Romance) Page 6