by Rose Pearson
Sarah let out a long breath, seeing Lord Havisham rise, and Miss Bavidge with him. They were to go to the dressmaker, to have new gowns in the hope that this might, in itself, encourage gentlemen to look twice at her, but given how Lord Ruddington had treated her, Sarah feared it would do nothing at all. She would still be unremarkable, staid, dull, and entirely forgettable. A gown would change nothing.
“Yes, I am quite ready.” Sarah got to her feet, knowing there was nothing else to do but agree, despite her feelings on the matter. Miss Bavidge was quite excited about moving things forward whilst she felt no such delight. Pasting a smile on her face, trying to show a happiness she did not feel, Sarah set her shoulders and tried to put every thought of Lord Ruddington out of her mind.
“What do you think of this?”
Lord Havisham let out a long sigh and ran one hand over his face, clearly both weary and exasperated.
“Come now, Lord Havisham,” Lady Smithton cajoled, a teasing expression on her face. “You are meant to be giving us a gentleman’s opinion. After all, these gowns are meant to be of the highest fashion, and you know very well I want Miss Crosby to shine.”
Sarah, who was clad in the most beautiful, softest gown she had ever had the chance to wear, glanced at herself in the full-length mirror and caught her breath. She did not look like herself. She barely recognized her reflection. Instead of wearing a high necked, gray gown, she was wearing one of a most fashionable cut, which showed a good deal more décolletage than she was used to but seemed to cling to her curves in what Sarah considered an inappropriate manner. It was also an emerald green shade, which Lady Smithton had insisted would bring out some of the reddish shades in her otherwise brown hair.
Sarah had, of course, protested a little when the dressmaker had first put her into this gown, but Lady Smithton had waved the protests away. The gown was the perfect fit, she had said, and certainly a good deal more improved than the ones Sarah was used to wearing.
Although, given Lord Havisham’s reaction, Sarah did not feel a good deal of confidence.
“Forgive me, Miss Crosby,” Lord Havisham stammered, sitting up a little more in his chair and rubbing at his eyes with the back of his hand. “I am just a little tired, that is all.” He tilted his head and regarded her, which brought a blush to Sarah’s cheeks. “Yes, yes, indeed. Very nice. It is more than appropriate and is certainly a vast improvement to what you were wearing previously.”
Sarah dropped her head and muttered something that was meant to be words of thanks whilst feeling more and more self-conscious. Lady Smithton sighed and berated Lord Havisham for being a little too brash, making Sarah’s cheeks flush all the more—to the point that she stepped away and exited the enclosed room where she had changed into this new gown. Moving slowly about the rest of the shop in the hope that she might regain her composure somewhat before Lady Smithton insisted she try on the next gown, Sarah battled her feelings of inadequacy.
Closing her eyes for a moment and finding a small stillness within herself, Sarah let out a long breath and, lifting her chin, opened her eyes. Lord Havisham was right. Her gown was much improved and most likely did suit her a good deal better than the gray she had worn before. There was no need to be embarrassed, she told herself, turning back around so she might seek out Lady Smithton and Lord Havisham again. She had to try to find a confidence that would chase away these flushed cheeks and feelings of mortification.
“Oh, I do apologize!”
A gentleman stumbled back as Sarah swung around, her skirts flying about her. Her hands flew to her mouth, her eyes wide as he caught himself, relieved he had regained his footing and not gone crashing into one of the tables strewn with gloves or the like.
“I do apologize,” she stammered as the gentleman cleared his throat and, looking embarrassed, lifted his head to look at her. Realizing it was none other than Lord Ruddington, the words died immediately on Sarah’s lips, not quite certain what else there was to say and fearing that, at any moment, Lady Smithton would burst out from the room behind her and demand Lord Ruddington apologize for his lack of decorum the previous evening.
“There is nothing to apologize for,” Lord Ruddington said, giving her a cursory sweep with his eyes, only to tilt his head a little and look at her again. Sarah’s heart filled with the same sense of deep interest in the gentleman that had been there before, making her want to move closer to him for some inexplicable reason. “I—I do apologize, my lady. Have we been introduced?”
Sarah dropped her head. Lord Ruddington did not remember her.
“I only ask because something about you states we have met before, but I cannot recall it,” Lord Ruddington added, hastily. “Goodness, I am offending you by stating such a thing, am I not?” He groaned aloud, making Sarah look back at him in surprise. Was he truly this upset over his lack of recognition?
“We have been introduced, Lord Ruddington,” she told him, surprised at how clear her voice was. “I am Miss Crosby.”
“Miss Crosby,” Lord Ruddington repeated, still with no flicker of recognition in his eyes. “Forgive me, Miss Crosby, but I still cannot recall you, which I find quite incomprehensible given your striking beauty.”
Sarah’s throat worked furiously, her eyes fixed upon Lord Ruddington and fearing he was lying to her to gain her forgiveness a good deal more easily than before.
“I feel certain I should remember,” he said again, now looking utterly mortified. “Pray forgive me. You must, of course, seek me out again at the next soiree or ball we find each other at, Miss Crosby. I insist upon it, for there is a good deal I must make up to you.” He bowed low in front of her, whilst Sarah just looked at him, still uncertain as to whether he meant any of what he said. “I do apologize, Miss Crosby, yet again, for my lack of good memory.”
“But of course,” Sarah found herself saying as Lord Ruddington cast her a grateful look, a small smile on his face that had not been there at all last evening when he had danced with her. “I shall do that, Lord Ruddington.”
He inclined his head before lifting it slowly and fixing his gray eyes upon hers. Sarah caught her breath but hid her reaction from him as best she could, looking away demurely. Lord Ruddington was handsome, she knew, and it was only to that particular feature that she found herself reacting. His character, it seemed, was sorely lacking and it was this that helped Sarah get a hold of herself again.
“Until next time, Miss Crosby,” he said before turning away and leaving the shop, clearly too embarrassed to remain and continue conversing with her. Sarah watched until the door closed behind him, feeling her face begin to warm with a strange sense of delight.
“Do you see now what a new gown can do for you?”
Startled, Sarah turned to see Lady Smithton looking at her with bright eyes and a warm smile.
“I do not know what you mean,” Sarah replied honestly, coming back to where Lady Smithton had pulled the curtain aside for her to re-enter the small room where Lord Havisham and the dressmaker now waited.
“Lord Ruddington did not recognize you,” Lady Smithton said calmly. “Do not take that as a slight, my dear girl, but rather with the understanding such an interaction proves.”
Swallowing the sudden ache in her throat, Sarah cleared her throat noisily and shrugged. “A new gown makes me unrecognizable?”
Lady Smithton put one hand on Sarah’s shoulder. “No, Miss Crosby. It is that you have a beauty of your own that is hidden under drab garments and dulled spirits. With this new gown, with this shade of color, you are more confident within yourself. You have an air about you that fades away whenever you are clothed in what is practically sackcloth!” She smiled, and Sarah felt tears come to her eyes, knowing what Lady Smithton was saying was quite true. “When you realize you are worthy of being within society, when you understand you should be treated as every other young lady of the ton, then something within you changes, and, thereafter, exudes outwards. Your smile is brighter; your eyes are warm. Even if you do not
quite feel it fully yet, it is there, Miss Crosby. You are beautiful, both inside and out. All you need do is believe it.”
Sarah could not find anything to say, for her throat ached painfully, and her eyes were filled with hot tears. Nodding mutely, she saw Lady Smithton smile in understanding, letting go of Sarah’s shoulder.
“We shall purchase this one, yes?” she said, gesturing to Sarah’s new gown. “And there are two more for you to try, Miss Crosby. Come now.”
A sense of worthiness filled Sarah’s heart as she made her way towards the dressmaker, who was gesturing towards a smaller cubicle where she might get changed. Lady Smithton was quite correct. If she could find strength within her, hope and courage to believe she was just as worthy and should be just as accepted by the beau monde as her cousin, then that would build within her a confidence that could not be hidden. Lord Ruddington might be the first gentleman not to recognize her, but he would not be the last.
A smile spread across Sarah’s face, making her want to laugh aloud at the thought. The next time she set eyes on Lord Ruddington, she would speak to him with that confidence, that courage and determination that had not been a part of her character thus far. Quite how he would react, she could not say, but she would not fear his reaction. Instead, she would keep her spirits light and her belief strong.
She was about to be entirely changed.
Chapter Four
Daniel had been rather embarrassed after walking into the young lady named Miss Crosby and, seeing her now from across the room, he felt that same sting creep into his heart.
He had a vague notion he had met the lady before, but as yet, still could not place her. His eyes slid towards her again as he leaned back against the wall of Lord Taylor’s drawing-room, seeing how Miss Crosby was moving slowly towards the open door that led to the music room. She was talking with another gentleman, one Lord Havisham, whom Daniel knew was both rich and well titled. How interesting that Lord Havisham should seem so eager to converse with the lady! Did it mean there was any interest in Lord Havisham’s mind when it came to Miss Crosby?
And why do I feel the urge to hurry over and interrupt them?
The thought seared his mind as he tried to drag his gaze away but found he could not, feeling a sense of relief when Miss Crosby and Lord Havisham did not enter the music room as he had thought they might, but instead moved back into the drawing-room. Miss Crosby was not wearing the gown he had seen her in previously but was now in a gown of greens and blues that seemed to shimmer as she moved, reminding him of a restless sea or a stormy sky. Her brown hair, with touches of auburn running through it, was pulled back from her face with curls tumbling down, sending a heated urge through Daniel to run his fingers through it. Giving himself a slight shake, he turned his head away, only to see Miss Marks suddenly moving towards him with a determined look in her eye.
His heart flipped over in his chest.
“Miss Marks, how pleasant to see you again!” he exclaimed, putting a broad smile on his face and forcing his attention away from Miss Crosby. “How do you fare this evening?”
“Very well,” Miss Marks replied warmly as another, older lady drew near to them both. Her eyes were large and appeared a little vacant, looking all about her before finally settling her gaze on Daniel. “Might I present my mother, Lord Ruddington? This is Lady Britton.”
Daniel bowed at once, wondering if this was meant to be some encouraging gesture on the part of Miss Marks. “Lady Britton,” he said as the lady curtsied. “It is very good to make your acquaintance.”
Lady Britton murmured something similar but then took her gaze away from Daniel and turned it back to the crowd of guests. Daniel did not know what to say, aware that the lady appeared disinclined to converse with him and wondering if he had displeased the lady in some way.
“Oh, I have just seen Lady Templeton come in!” Lady Britton exclaimed, suddenly flapping a hand in her daughter’s direction. “Do find that cousin of yours, Sophia. I must go.”
Daniel’s eyebrows rose in surprise as Lady Britton took herself away from both himself and Miss Marks, leaving them to converse without any chaperone. Not that he intended on treating her poorly or making any unacceptable suggestions, but to show such a lack of consideration for her daughter was somewhat embarrassing for the lady. Miss Marks, of course, dropped her gaze and looked about herself self-consciously, clearly mortified.
Do not feel any sympathy nor compassion, Daniel told himself, setting his jaw. This family does not deserve it.
“We should go in search of your cousin,” he said firmly, seeing how Miss Marks gave him a tiny nod but did not look up. “Where might she be?”
Miss Marks finally lifted her head and looked about her distractedly. “She was talking with—ah, there! I see her.” She looked up at him, her cheeks a rose pink. “Might you accompany me, Lord Ruddington?”
Feeling a small sense of encouragement in his quest, Daniel inclined his head at once, snapped his heels together, and offered Miss Marks his arm. Blushing a little more, she accepted it at once and together, they made their way slowly across the room.
Daniel’s sense of triumph began to grow all the more as Miss Marks led him towards her cousin, whomever that was to be. Miss Marks had come to seek him out, had come to converse with him and had then begged him to accompany her in search of her cousin. It was all going rather splendidly, for clearly, Miss Marks found his company appealing. All he had to do now was try to encourage that interest a little more so when the time came to ask her to court him, she would accept without hesitation. She would not think of the other gentlemen that she batted her eyelashes at, would not give thought to others that showed her a particular interest. He had to become her sole attention, the only one in her thoughts. Only then could he enact the final part of his plan and gain the sense that all had been set to rights. For the moment, he clung to the anger that brooded deep within him, knowing he had no other choice but to take matters into his own hands.
“You are rather quiet this evening, Lord Ruddington,” Miss Marks said, looking up at him. “I am sorry my mother showed such a lack of interest.” Her cheeks colored again. “She is often distracted by her own acquaintances and as such, does often act in a somewhat rude manner.”
Taken aback by Miss Marks openness, Daniel tried to find something to say in response, but only managed to mutter something unintelligible. He had not expected Miss Marks to speak so plainly and certainly had not thought she would speak so about her mother. There was an embarrassment that still lingered in both her voice and expression, and Daniel caught himself before he allowed his sympathies to rise. That would be the worst thing he could do in his present situation. To allow himself to feel anything for Miss Marks could damage his plans irreversibly.
“Ah, Miss Crosby, there you are.”
Daniel’s thoughts were blown from his mind when he turned his gaze upon Miss Crosby, suddenly realizing the truth about who she was and why he had struggled to recall her. Heat crawled up his spine as Miss Marks dropped her hand from his arm, making him wince inwardly as Miss Crosby turned her light blue eyes onto him, her expression a little curious.
“Miss Marks,” Lord Havisham said, bowing low. “I do hope you have had an enjoyable evening thus far?”
“I have indeed,” Miss Marks replied as Lord Havisham lifted his head from his bow. “Although I confess I am looking forward to sitting down and listening to those that perform this evening.”
“And will you do so yourself?” Lord Havisham asked, walking directly in front of Daniel so that he might stand closer to Miss Marks. “I have heard you play the pianoforte rather well.”
Daniel closed his eyes momentarily as he felt Miss Crosby’s gaze still lingering. He wanted to apologize, wanted to say something that would make up for his lack of memory of her, but found nothing came to his lips. She was so very different from how he had last seen her. The gown was delicate and sat on her beautifully, although he did notice the difference between
her form and that of Miss Marks. Miss Marks was slim, with her gown seeming to drape over her, whilst Miss Crosby had a pleasing form, a rather shapelier figure than that of her cousin.
“You remember me now, I think?”
Daniel cleared his throat abruptly. “I do, yes,” he replied as Lord Havisham and Miss Marks continued to converse quietly between themselves. “You must forgive me, Miss Crosby, for my lack of memory.”
She laughed suddenly, surprising him. When she smiled at him, her face lit up, her eyes dancing with mirth and making him want to smile in return.
“You have nothing to fear, Lord Ruddington,” she told him, warmly. “I am well aware I am vastly changed from how I appeared at our first meeting. There is no shame in that, I assure you.”
Suddenly recalling that he did, in fact, have a good deal of shame to deal with over his lack of interest in Miss Crosby at the last ball they had attended and how he had deliberately hidden from her during what should have been her waltz with him, Daniel shook his head and spread out one hand towards her.
“But I treated you poorly, Miss Crosby, at our last meeting,” he said, stammering awkwardly and hating himself for it. “You were due a waltz, and I did not give it to you.”
Miss Crosby’s smile faded and, although she tried to keep the pain from her eyes, Daniel saw she could not quite do so.
“That is correct,” she agreed, her voice soft now. “I do not hold you...” This sentence, however, trailed off as Miss Crosby frowned, a look in her eyes that told Daniel she was remembering something. Her head rose sharply, and she looked back up at him, her gaze a little defiant now. “You are quite right, Lord Ruddington,” she finished, her words a little stronger now. “You did not treat me as a gentleman ought. I was embarrassed at being left standing alone when I ought to have been on the dance floor with you.”
Daniel swallowed hard, knowing he deserved this and yet feeling himself rebel against it. He wanted to tell her that she had not been in his every thought that evening, for he had needed to fix his gaze upon Miss Marks instead of upon her, but, of course, he could not do so. The urge to defend himself, to tell her he had merely made a mistake instead of turning from her deliberately rose up within him, but with an effort, Daniel fought it back.