by Kelly Boyce
Miss Sutherland’s hands tightened where they clasped in front of her. “I am.” Despite the nervous edge to her expression, her voice remained calm. She released her hands and offered a curtsey. “It is a pleasure to meet you, my lady.”
“Hrmph.” She turned back to Ridgemont. “And what, pray tell, are you doing leaving this young lady alone in here with the likes of him?”
Benedict opened his mouth to take offense to her depiction of his character but Miss Sutherland nudged him and gave a small shake of her head. He closed his mouth and held his tongue.
“The door was left open and Magda sat just outside. There was nothing improper about the situation, I assure you,” Ridgemont said.
Her gaze slithered over her great-nephew then back to Benedict. “Then it appears I have arrived just in time. Your views on propriety need improvement, my boy.” Benedict wasn’t sure whether the comment was meant for him or Ridgemont. Nor did she clarify before moving onto her next issue. “And have I heard correctly that you intend on throwing a dinner party a few days hence?”
Ridgemont straightened. “Yes, that is my intention.”
“And you think that is wise?”
“She cannot hide in her room forever, Aunt.”
The viscountess’s expression softened slightly but she said no more on the subject, turning her attention to Miss Sutherland. “My dear, I shall assume Lord Glenmor is satisfied over your well-being and therefore I see no need to tarry here any longer. Come. Take me to my great-niece. If Ridgemont is determined to throw her to the wolves, we have much to prepare.”
Miss Sutherland gave Benedict one last look and mouthed a silent thank-you before trailing behind Lady Dalridge and disappearing down the hallway. How odd that her removal from the room could take with it all the warmth, leaving him cold and weary.
Ridgemont turned to him. “Well. That went well, I think.”
Chapter Nine
“It is an improvement, I will grant you that,” Lady Dalridge said as her gaze slid over Judith’s attire for the dinner party. The two gowns she had brought with her had been deemed unsuitable for the dinner party and therefore hasty arrangements had been made, altering one of Lady Henrietta’s gowns to make due. “But I still think it inappropriate that she attends.”
Despite Lady Dalridge’s ongoing disagreement that Judith should not be attending such an event, citing her position within the house, the more she tried to draw a line, the more effort Lady Henrietta put into erasing it.
“Auntie—”
“Hen, my sweet, it is simply not done,” Lady Dalridge stressed when Lady Henrietta first broached the request that Judith attend the dinner party with her. “While I mean no disrespect to you, Miss Sutherland, you are an employee. What will people think?”
Lady Henrietta held her ground, showing Judith that despite her fear of the whispers and ridicule she was likely to suffer, her internal fortitude had not wavered. “Miss Sutherland is the grand-daughter and niece of knights, Auntie. Both of who were great heroes and rewarded for such by the King. The Dowager Countess of Blackbourne is to become her aunt. She is hardly without consequence.”
“Regardless, she is in our home as your paid companion.”
“She is my friend.” Lady Henrietta lifted her chin in a militant angle, reminding Judith a little of her cousin Patience when she got a particular idea in her head. “And I will not attend this ridiculous dinner party without her.”
Part of Judith wished it would come to that. She would much rather stay in Lady Henrietta’s room for the duration of the event and avoid the spectacle altogether. Especially since learning her cousin, Patience, would not be attending despite Lord Ridgemont issuing a last minute invitation. Unfortunately, last Season, Patience had a most unfortunate encounter with Lady Susan that resulted in her cousin giving the other woman a rather public dressing-down, followed by dumping a half-empty bowl of punch over her head. The debacle had sent Patience into strict exile in the country before the Season had ended.
Had it not been for the Dowager Countess of Blackbourne smoothing the matter over with Lady Susan’s parents, the Duke and Duchess of Franklyn, likely her cousin would still be cooling her heels at Havelock Manor.
As much as Judith wished to see her cousin again, she was thankful for not having to deal with the added stress of what might occur should Lady Susan prove less forgiving than her parents. An occurrence, given Judith’s knowledge of the young woman, that was quite likely.
“Besides,” Lady Henrietta continued, turning her attention to Judith. “You look far too lovely to be hidden away, Miss Sutherland. You are a true beauty once we wrestle you out of those dreary dresses you insist on wearing.”
Over the past few years, she had become accustomed to seeing herself in much dowdier attire, a look she’d adopted to keep others from taking notice of her. If they didn’t notice her, they could not target her. She caught her reflection in the full-length mirror from across the room. Dressed in cream satin, with her hair piled atop her head, and pearls wrapped around the base of it to help hold it in place, she had no such hope of fading into the background tonight.
“It was kind of you to lend me the dress.”
Lady Henrietta smiled, an uncommon event. “It is a selfish thing, I’m afraid. I am hoping you will shine so brightly you take all the attention away from me.”
Judith’s stomach curdled.
She had hoped beyond hope that both Lady Susan and Lord Pengrin would turn down the invitation to the dinner party, but such was not the case. On the rare occurrence that the Marquess of Ridgemont issued an invitation, one did not turn their nose up at it. Likely Lady Susan and Lord Pengrin were chomping at the bit to walk through the doors of Harrow House and get their first look at the reclusive Lady Henrietta. Judith’s heart ached for the young woman. What agony she would suffer under the scrutiny of others, the pains she took to keep her scars hidden from prying eyes.
“I think I would like to go down to the drawing room early, Miss Sutherland, so I might stake out a quiet corner and remain there until the dinner bell is rung.”
Lady Dalridge waved a hand as if to brush aside Lady Henrietta’s plan. “No, no, no. You must make an entrance, my dear. People are expecting it. There is no reason for you to hide yourself—”
“There is every reason, Auntie.” Lady Henrietta’s words came sharp and unexpected. “I do not wish to be a spectacle. I am sure you can understand.”
Lady Dalridge’s face softened, no longer the indomitable lady of the house, but a loving aunt who wanted the best for her great-niece. She stepped forward to where Lady Henrietta sat on the stool by her vanity and placed a gloved hand to her niece’s cheek, just above where the scars hid beneath her hair. “If you are a spectacle, my dear, it will be due to your exceptional beauty and sweet nature and for no other reason. You have nothing to hide from.”
But she did. Judith understood that more than most. Society could be cruel. And many of its constituents cared little about beauty and sweetness unless it was their own. Their stock and trade came in tearing others down, finding their weaknesses and exposing them for all to see. They thrived on humiliation and whatever entertainment they could derive from inflicting it upon the unsuspecting.
Judith braced herself for the night to come. She could not, in good conscience, allow Lady Henrietta to face that alone. “I am ready whenever you are, my lady.”
Lady Dalridge sighed and her hand fell away. “Very well. Do as you see fit. But you cannot hide forever, my dear. Your brother is determined to find you a proper match by the end of the upcoming Season.”
“Then my brother is to be sorely disappointed. No man of consequence is going to want to saddle himself with someone like me, no matter how much he tries to sweeten the pot with the size of my dowry. And I have no interest in marrying a man who can be bought so easily.”
Judith smiled. Despite her quiet nature, Lady Henrietta had a mind of her own. Lord Ridgemont would have his work cut out for him if he though
t to try and change it.
Lady Henrietta stood and slipped her arm through Judith’s. “Come. Let us appease the masses with their gaping stares and get this torturous night over with.”
* * *
If he were to jab himself in the eye with the poker leaning against the stone hearth of the fireplace and well within his reach, would she notice? As Lady Susan continued to blather on—Benedict had lost track of the conversation, but assumed the main topic remained herself, as that seemed to be a particular favorite of hers—he guessed that no, in all likelihood, she would not notice.
Perhaps if he toppled over, having inflicted grievous injury to himself, and spilled his drink on her bright pink gown, she might take notice, but he was still not convinced it would be enough to stop her tongue from wagging incessantly.
Good Lord above, how would he ever survive marriage to this woman? She would talk him to death before they could ever procure an heir. It did not help matters that the very idea of such procurement left him cold. It wasn’t that she was a hideous sort, but the more she spoke, the less attractive she became and the less the idea of marrying her, bedding her, and spending a lifetime with her, held even the smallest appeal.
To distract himself from the potentially unbearable future that awaited him, Benedict glanced across the room to the shadowed corner where Miss Sutherland sat with Lady Henrietta. Something about Miss Sutherland’s posture and the way she had set her chair reminded him of a centurion guarding the gate. If anyone hoped to get to Lady Henrietta, they would first have to bypass Miss Sutherland, and she did not wear the most welcoming of expressions.
She was, however, wearing a lovely gown that enhanced the warm tones of her skin—skin that was much more on display than he had ever seen before. The cream color of her dress gave her an ethereal appearance. Her upswept hair showed off the graceful sweep of her neck and fine bones of her jaw. How his hand itched to touch her flawless skin, to run his fingertips along the angles, press his lips where her neck curved into her collarbone. Breathe in her scent.
Warmth spread through him, liquid and wonderful. He closed his eyes and savored the sensation, a respite from the constant gnawing of Lady Susan’s nasally voice.
“Lord Glenmor, do I bore you?” Lady Susan’s sharp tone snapped him back to reality and he opened his eyes to find her glaring at him, her mouth pinched, but for once not in motion. Small miracle.
“No, not at all. I, uh, was merely absorbing what you were saying. Much easier done with my eyes closed. Allows me to concentrate better.” He gave his most charming smile but it withered and died before it reached full potency. Unlike Charlie, he could not turn the charm on at will. Where was Charlie for that matter? He scanned the room. The moment his friend had laid eyes on Lady Susan, he’d made himself scarce. Judas.
“Hmph. Well perhaps you can stop your concentration long enough to honor my request?”
Benedict’s attention snapped back to Lady Susan. “Your request?”
“That you escort me over to Lady Henrietta and provide a proper introduction. I cannot believe Lord Ridgemont has not yet sought me out and done the honors. It is highly improper and I will be sure to let him know.”
Of that, he had no doubt. Lady Susan appeared to hold the strong belief that the world revolved solely around her.
“You have been introduced to her, I assume?”
“Yes, upon my arrival,” he said. Though their interaction had lasted only long enough to exchange a few pleasantries before Lady Dalridge pulled her grandniece away and presented her to the other gentlemen in the room. “Were you not?”
Lady Susan stuck her nose in the air. “No, but Mother and I arrived late. A lady likes to make an entrance, after all.”
Lucky for Lady Henrietta. She’d been saved from the same fate Benedict had suffered for the past few hours, listening to Lady Susan drone on like a hive of buzzing bees. Very well, perhaps it hadn’t been a few hours, but it had certainly felt like it.
He glanced around the room at the other guests. It was a safe grouping for the most part. Lord and Lady Alderset were both blind as bats and likely unable to see the scarring Lady Henrietta went to great pains to disguise. He had no fear his mother would do or say anything to make the young lady uncomfortable and Lord and Lady Phillipot were old friends of the family.
The only uncertainty in the guest list fell with Lord Pengrin and Lady Susan, along with Lady Susan’s mother, the Duchess of Franklyn, though Mother had attached herself to the Duchess. In truth, the duchess’s attitude appeared to have mellowed somewhat, according to Mother, ever since the incident at Sheridan Park several months earlier that left a man dead.
As for Lord Pengrin, Benedict knew very little about the man, save for his penchant for gambling. While not uncommon amongst their set, word was the man did not have a knack for the games and lost more at the tables than he gained. How much truth there was to the rumor, however, Benedict could not say. They shared few acquaintances and where Benedict had not spent much time attending the events of the past few Seasons, he’d had little contact with the man personally.
“Lord Glenmor!”
His attention shot back to Lady Susan who stood before him appearing more than a little peeved. Or was that her normal expression? “My apologies, Lady Susan. You were saying?”
“I was saying that you could make the introductions. Come.” Lady Susan slid her arm through his, leaving him no option but to comply. Not that it took much convincing. The short walk brought him closer to Miss Sutherland and, as much as he told himself he should avoid her for the sake of his own sanity, he could not help but want to be near her. The dichotomy was nothing short of torturous. Yet it was the sweetest kind of torture he had ever experienced.
“Lady Henrietta, Miss Sutherland.” Benedict nodded at the ladies and gave a brief bow. “It is my great pleasure—” he managed not to choke on the word, “—to introduce you to Lady Susan, daughter of the Duke and Duchess of Franklyn. Lady Susan, may I present to you Lady Henrietta Harrow and Miss Judith Sutherland.”
Lady Susan waved a dismissive hand in Miss Sutherland’s direction. “Oh, I met Miss Sutherland during her first Season several years ago. I have not seen you since, however. Why is that?” Lady Susan’s smile reminded Benedict of a snake about to strike. He half-expected her tongue to shoot out and test the air.
Miss Sutherland stiffened. “My father fell ill. I remained at Havelock to care for him.”
“Do you not have nurses and servants to do such work? But oh,” she said, continuing before Miss Sutherland could answer. “You are a servant, aren’t you? Quite a downturn in your affairs, is it not?”
Miss Sutherland’s cheeks bloomed with color at Lady Susan’s cutting remark. Charlie had been right. The woman truly was a vile sort. Guilt filled him at having brought her over to meet them, only to have her spew such caustic remarks.
“It is lovely to see you again, Miss Sutherland,” Benedict interrupted, saving her from the need to answer. For what answer could she give that Lady Susan wouldn’t immediately jump upon and twist around? “I hope both of you are enjoying the evening thus far?”
“We were, up until recently,” Miss Sutherland answered in her smooth, steady voice.
Lady Susan’s shoulders shot back as if she’d been struck. Her sharp smile turned more acidic and in a blink, before Benedict could interfere, she switched targets. “Lady Henrietta, it is so lovely to finally meet you. I have heard so much about you. How odd we have never met before. I am most surprised you have not yet been presented at court.”
“Are you?” Lady Henrietta’s quiet tones filled the tight space around them. “Why is that?”
The pinched expression Lady Susan had worn only moments ago returned. The response left her nowhere to go, no answer to give without causing direct offense. Lady Henrietta had rendered her mute. It was a beautiful thing to behold. He would need to remember that in the future.
Benedict smiled. “I, for one, am simply pleased
that you are both here with us now.”
Lady Henrietta returned his smile and her hand lifted to pull her soft curls closer to her neck before her gaze slid away from him. “Thank you, Lord Glenmor. That is very kind.”
No, he wanted to say. Kindness would have been never approaching you with this harpy in the first place. He sighed and glanced at Lady Susan as an uncomfortable silence settled around them. Was this what his future held? Is this what it would take to save the Glenmor fortunes in the wake of his new state of ruin?
And was it a price he was willing to pay?
Chapter Ten
If it was a sign Judith had been waiting upon to prove her return to London had been a foolhardy idea, likely this was it. She glanced down the length of the table at the guests. Unfortunately, she had been separated from Lady Henrietta, though she was pleased to see her cousin, Charlie, and Mrs. Laytham on either side of her. She would be safe with them. Regrettably, that left her bookended by Lord Glenmor and, far worse, Lord Pengrin.
She took a few mouthfuls of the oyster soup, but could manage no more. Close proximity to Lord Pengrin made the sumptuous food Cook had prepared curdle in her belly. Her hand trembled as she tried to navigate the spoon to her mouth and she feared spilling the contents down the front of her borrowed gown.
Oh, to be anywhere but here! Sitting outside in the cold without benefit of a shawl or boots on her feet would have been preferable to being at the same table as Lord Pengrin, let alone directly to his left. But she had not been given that option, and as such, must now endure his company, as well as his veiled jabs at her current situation.
“A lady’s companion. And what, pray tell, led you to lower yourself to such a degree?” He kept his voice low; his easy smile on full display so that anyone looking their way would think they shared a most pleasant conversation. How had she ever fallen for such false charms? How had she not seen him for the snake in the grass he truly was?