William had been aware of this girlish dream of mine since we were children—and he’d mercilessly teased me for it. I had continued to insist I was right, determined to prove to William that the world wasn’t as cold and heartless as he believed.
Only, my curtain situation wasn’t helping.
What a fool I must look to him. A little girl who should’ve stayed home with her childish wishes while the mature adults enjoyed an evening of society.
Just then Mrs. Burbank approached, her round frame heaving as she struggled for breath. “There you are, my dear. I have been looking for you this last hour at least, and here I find you, unconcerned with the worry you have caused me.”
“I am sorry, Mrs. Burbank. I did have a good reason—”
“Three good reasons,” William added. I subtly elbowed him in the stomach. He didn’t react—in fact, his grin might’ve widened. “I’m sure she didn’t mean to dodge you as well, Mrs. Burbank.”
Why, that little—
“I’m glad to have found you, Eliza. Try not to disappear again, dear. Though I am relieved to see you have been in Sir William’s company.” She turned to William. “Her mother places great faith in you, sir.”
Mrs. Burbank’s thin eyebrows pulled together in a perplexed look. She fished out her spectacles from her reticule then put them on, scrutinizing my arm. Only after she’d been staring for a few moments did I notice William’s arm wrapped around me with his hand resting near my shoulder, seemingly unconcerned with the shocking position.
He always did it. Always made little touches here and there, ever since that day years ago when I’d nearly drowned in the pond, and he’d jumped in and saved me. I would believe there was no reason behind the physical contact, except for the fact that everything William did was calculated. He was my protector, and wanted everyone looking on to know it.
I shrugged him off and stepped away a little.
“Mrs. Burbank, I wonder if I might steal Eliza away,” William said. “There is someone I’d like for her to meet.” He stepped forward and resumed his scandalous pose.
She took her spectacles off, as if she didn’t particularly like the details they provided, and returned them to her reticule. “W-Well, I don’t see why not. If her mother trusts her to you, Sir William, I don’t see why I should not. Just mind you don’t get into any trouble, girl, and do check in every hour.”
I managed to nod to her before William squeezed my shoulders and drove me past Mrs. Burbank and across the room. He heaved a long-suffering sigh. “What a dull evening this has turned out to be. I told you it would be dull, now didn’t I?”
“I thought I was providing you ample entertainment,” I said, watching his face for a reaction. “And I doubt Miss Nagel thinks the evening has been dull.”
His gaze slinked over to me, even as he continued to steer me onward. “Quite the contrary, I believe—for her desires were thwarted.”
“And yours too?”
He stopped and turned toward me fully, a smile dancing on his lips. He knew I was fishing. “I have many desires. If one is thwarted I simply move on to the next. Besides,” he added, “I always get what I want in the end.”
Not exactly an answer. William was so difficult to read. He was unparalleled in delivering half-truths; in always keeping part of the story in shadow, forcing me to guess the rest. Often when we spoke, I got the sense that when he said something, he really meant something else. And just like now, when I asked something to try and reveal the man beneath the mask, I was habitually met by a laugh, or a joke, or some distraction that deflected the question. It was a trait my mysterious suitor would never possess.
“Who is this person you wanted me to meet?”
He kept walking, and I soon saw our destination: a knot of people who threw their heads back and chortled, causing a ruckus in one corner. “The dullest of the bunch.”
Chapter 2
We had to push through the crowd to get to the center, and when we did, I beheld a woman atop her throne, spooning out pear trifle and popping it in her mouth.
Her face was bright and merry, her hair peppered with gray, and deep crow’s feet bracketed her chocolate brown eyes. “No, no, Lord Pickering!” she said with a giggle, her whole frame bouncing as if she were atop a trotting horse. “Your niece cannot grow attached to Lord Morley—why he is much too agreeable for her! No, let her instead pursue Sir Hastings. He has a temper that could match even hers!”
The whole group sniggered. Though the woman’s figure exceeded the confines of her chair, her heels didn’t quite touch the ground, and they bobbed up and down with every animated inflection.
“Why, just last week he was seen in Hyde Park, dueling with some man—and heaven knows the reason,” she went on. “But I did hear a scrap just yesterday suggesting Sir Hastings was mightily in love with the man’s daughter. Now who might she be? Well, I should let you figure the rest for yourselves, as you know I am not one to gossip.”
She dished another bite into her mouth before leaning in and saying in a lower but far from quieter tone, “But I can hint that the woman has a history of riding through Hyde Park herself, with her sister Georgette. Tut! I can say no more, you must divine the identities of such persons on your own—though I should think it was quite obvious, when her hair is such an unnatural shade of orange.”
The rest of the throng cried for the woman to go on, but she continued to eat. That is, until she spotted us.
“Bentley!” She smiled so wide I feared it would explode off her face. “Come and give me a kiss, you cheeky devil.”
“Lady Prima.” William grinned. “You know I cannot with so many spectators—how people would gossip! Meet me in the alleyway in an hour, and I shall oblige you.”
“Dastardly man!” She snickered, swatting her spoon at him in the air. “Oh, how I have missed you! Truly you are too cruel—depriving me of your company for so long. And how handsome you have grown in these past months! You know how that smile of yours sets my heart aflutter. He is handsome, is he not, girls?”
The young ladies in the group crooned their agreement. William extracted the spoon from Lady Prima, lightly tapping her on the nose with it. “Now, none of that nonsense, Lady Prima.” He bowed and kissed her hand. “You know I have eyes only for you.”
She tittered mightily as William returned her spoon. “Do go on!”
He turned and held out his hand to me, indicating for me to step up. I did, and all eyes of the merry crowd turned to me.
“What’s this?” Lady Prima asked, looking me up and down with a smile.
“This, Lady Prima, is the reason I have been absent lately.”
“Oh, do not tell me you are engaged! I could not bear someone stealing you away from me.”
“No of course not,” he said. “What an idea! No, this is Miss Eliza Wycliffe, Lord Wycliffe’s sister.”
“How marvelous! Step forward, girl. Let me see you more clearly.”
Baffled, I complied.
“My, what a fetching thing you are. And I think your eyes are handsomer than Bentley’s! And you are a Wycliffe? Good family, good stock. You shan’t have trouble making a match, I should think.”
“I am far more disagreeable than my appearance, I assure you,” I said in earnest.
That made everyone laugh again, including Lady Prima. Goodness, did she ever stop? “How can that be? Bentley, have you anything to fault in Miss Wycliffe’s character?”
“The only I thing I would fault her is that truly, she thinks better of people than they are. The prime example being me, of course.” It was said with an offhand smile, but it dampened the longer it sat on his face, as if he didn’t like how the words tasted.
Lady Prima beamed. “I dare say so—for you are a scoundrel. A handsome, charming one, but a scoundrel all the same. I hope you are coming to my tea party on Saturday, Bentley. Lady Iris shall be there, and I know how she longs for your company.”
William’s head cocked. “Ah, Lady Iris? I
was not aware she had returned from France.”
“Only just, dear. Only just. And you must make sure to bring Miss Wycliffe with you as well. She makes me laugh, and as you know, that is my one true joy.”
“Of course.” William bowed.
He swept me away, even as Lady Prima called after him, “And do not think I have forgotten about the alleyway! Do not be late, sir!” The group’s laughter rang out for what felt like the hundredth time.
“My,” I said once we were far enough away, “what an interesting character she is.”
William chuckled. “Yes, she is rather silly—and she said her true joy is to laugh, but to be sure, she has three others: to gossip, to eat, and to make matches. If you are ever in want of one of the three, just find Lady Prima and you are sure to find an abundance.”
“What of this Lady Iris? Who is she?”
William blinked and his lips parted, but he didn’t look over. “She is . . . a Frenchwoman.”
Was that reluctance I detected in his voice? “How do you know her? Why would she want your company?”
William shrugged in nonchalance, even as his eyes flickered. “Who knows? She and I have known each other in the past.”
Before I could puzzle out the cryptic answer, William pointed around the room, identifying each person to me, their connections, their history, their scandals. And though I had just frowned upon the act of gossiping, I digested the information with eager ears, wanting to know how everything worked.
William seemed to be acquainted with everyone—and they him. More than once men halted our conversation by slapping him on the back and giving him a handshake, or ladies blushing behind their fans as they brushed past, uncomfortably close. From high to low, everyone received him warmly into their circles, and I wondered how he managed it.
But then I remembered, he was William. And William was nothing if not charming.
When a fresh set of dancers took the floor, my gaze snagged on a knot of men in a corner, sipping their drinks while they surveyed the scene. Each of them cut a striking figure and had regal bearing—fine attributes, in my mind. I scanned their faces, analyzing each man’s potential toward being my mysterious suitor. “Who are they?” I asked.
“Ah,” William said, following my line of sight. “Those are the high-born eligible bachelors, most of them soon to be titled or otherwise wealthy. Your brother was among them until he was promoted.” The last word held a nearly undetectable bite to it, though I didn’t know why it would, since he and Peter had been friends all their lives. “Mostly they stay in their corner and weigh the merits of each respectable lady.”
What kinds of men talked of a woman’s worth so flippantly? “And how would you know this?”
“Because,” William said, “at particularly dull functions, I join them.”
“Then you must be wishing yourself over there now—for you said yourself how dull the evening is.”
“To be sure.” He tapped my nose. “But someone must ensure you don’t fall in love with the drapes.”
I wrinkled my nose, willing the lingering feeling of his finger away. “So they weigh the merits of a lady—as if she were a horse.”
“Precisely.” At my galled expression, he chuckled. “Oh, have no fear. What they say is never too demeaning. And they speak of other things, too—parliament, Brummell, or the races—but mostly they compare women, especially the new ones of the Season. That’s you, my dear.”
I chuckled nervously. “They would not be talking about me.” But when I glanced back at the group, I found several faces staring back.
William leaned down, murmuring, “Not only are they talking about you, but they like what they see. They find you quite pretty.”
I scoffed. “You cannot know that!”
“Oh ‘Liza, it is easy to spot if you know what to look for.” He put an arm around my shoulder, pointing, breath tickling my ear. I shouldn’t have noticed his vanilla scent or the way his clothes brushed against mine, but I did.
“You see how they straighten up? How they steal those furtive glances that start at your toes and travel to your face? How they smile secretively as they turn away? Yes, they definitely find you desirable.”
I laughed away the comment, even as my pulse picked up speed, something close to excitement churning in my stomach. What if my mysterious suitor was in their ranks? What if my plans for tonight weren’t completely spoiled after all?
William let me go. “Ah, there you go again—dreaming of true love and all that nonsense.”
“It is not nonsense!” I was still determined to salvage the shattered pieces of my picturesque evening and glue them together.
Another agitated sigh escaped his lips. “Must I be forced to convince you?”
My eyes widened and whipped to his face. “Don’t you dare.” But I knew by his mischievous expression there was no stopping him.
“With her beauteous face and twelve thousand pounds, at Eliza’s first ball, she made all the rounds.”
“Stop!” I whispered.
“Three smitten lads asked the girl for dance. She accepted in haste at the thought of romance.”
I pressed my lips together in a great effort. His poems always came at the most inopportune times—and he preferred it that way.
“True love fin’lly conquered! Her wishes came true! But then why did she vanish so out of the blue? Can it be love was thwarted? Oh, where could she be? What ho, how is this—the maiden’s with me.”
I glanced around at the swishing gowns and yapping mouths to distract myself from the giggle bubbling up in my throat.
“I must be her knight. Her champion, I avow! But I feel for the girl . . . for I’ll ne’er love her now.”
That did it. My laugh burst out, and thankfully no one seemed to hear except William. How I hated that he could always make me laugh, even when it was at my own expense.
“Either way,” he said, “I think it’s safe to say the night’s been filled with an unhealthy amount of stupidity.”
I laughed again. And I hated every second of it.
The evening wore on, and on . . . and on. When I was sure my toes couldn’t take any more, William found me through the crowd and suggested we find a seat in the card room. The room rumbled with conversation, women’s fans flapping as they watched one of the games at the handful of tables. Two open windows let in a breath of mid-February night air, providing relief from the ballroom’s stuffiness. The only two available chairs together were at a table currently being occupied by a gentleman, and William led me there.
“Your Grace,” William said, slightly bowing. “Might I introduce you to Miss Wycliffe. Eliza, this is the Duke of Allerton.”
I dipped into a low curtsy. “I am honored to make your acquaintance, Your Grace.”
The duke didn’t say anything, only stood and inclined his head. He was handsome to be sure, with brown hair, a straight nose, a broad build, and warm brown eyes that seemed to swallow me whole. His movements were timid but graceful, and the cuffs and flaps of his cream tailcoat were intricately embroidered with golden thread, artfully displaying both his wealth and good breeding. William held out a chair for me, and after I had taken my seat, he and His Grace followed suit.
“What a smash this is,” William said, looking around. “More than at Almack’s, I’d wager.”
“Indeed,” Allerton agreed.
I hadn’t yet attended Almack’s, so I kept quiet.
“Lady Prima’s party is sure to be a crush as well. Eliza, were you wanting to go?”
“I suppose. I daren’t refuse.”
William laughed and Allerton’s cheek lifted a little.
“Have you received an invitation, Your Grace?” I asked.
“ . . . Indeed. Though I doubt I shall attend.”
“Ah, there is Lady Prima now.” William beamed, pointing. “I must tell her to expect us this Saturday.”
“Oh, but, William!” I called softly after him, but he left too quickly, leaving me
alone with the duke.
I looked back at His Grace, unsure what to do or say. His gaze riveted to one of the card tables in the corner, as if he wished himself over there. I didn’t blame the man. How ill-mannered of William to leave me alone and put me in such a position! I worked my jaw as I mustered my bravery.
“You are from northern England, are you not, Your Grace?” I asked at last. I knew all the duchy’s—thanks to Mama’s tutelage—and their corresponding estates.
His eyes swung over, as if he hadn’t expected me to speak. “Indeed.”
“I have always wanted to visit there. I hear there is a rugged beauty about the jagged cliffs and heather. I should think I would scamper across the moors pretending I was some Scottish lass if ever I were to go.”
His eyebrows rose in surprise and he cleared his throat. “Indeed.”
Oh, drat, I’d said the wrong thing. I sounded like a fool, speaking so whimsically. Someone as important as the duke had no wish to hear the girlish daydreams of a mere acquaintance.
The silence grew thick again. I cleared my throat before attempting, “I have a distant cousin who lives in Yorkshire, which is near your estate I believe. Her name is Miss Edwards. Perhaps you know of her?”
His face took on a pained quality. “I confess, I do not spend much time at my estate, nor entertaining its neighbors. I prefer town life to country life—London, or Paris.”
“Ah,” I said, embarrassed somehow. Perhaps it was because of the way I was forcing myself to talk to this man, knowing neither of us enjoyed the experience.
The awkwardness ripened. At last I muttered, “You must forgive me, this is my very first time in mixed company, and I am not the most adept conversationalist. William has always been the one to bridge silences.”
He cleared his throat again, looking the way William had gone. “Ah, Bentley? Yes, he’s a talkative fellow. Erm, did you arrive together?”
“Yes, William is my escort.” Along with Mrs. Burbank, but she was negligent at best.
“I am reluctant to point it out, Miss Wycliffe, but your escort seems to have abandoned you.”
A Lord of Many Masks (Wycliffe Family Book 2) Page 2