‘What?’ It was the very last thing she had expected him to say.
‘She is not, and never has been, a proper person for you to know…’
That sounded so very like the kind of criticism her grandfather would have levelled at her that her surprise turned to anger.
‘Well, you introduced me to her. You asked me for my help, and—’
‘Yes, I know,’ he said more gently. ‘But I had no notion then, what a warm-hearted person you are. Or how lonely.’
She blinked. She would never have thought such a hard-faced man could be so perceptive. He’d seen right to the heart of her. And put his finger on who she wanted to be but was never allowed to be.
‘I thought you would spare her a few hours to take her shopping, discreetly, not…fling yourself headlong into such an inappropriate friendship.’
‘Oh.’ His unexpected compliment had touched her so deeply that the warm glow it created melted her anger away. ‘But… Milly is a perfectly lovely person. I do not consider a friendship with her inappropriate at all. In fact—’
‘That’s enough,’ he said, the flinty look returning to his eyes. ‘In the long run, this association can only be bad for you both.’
‘Bad for both of us? Are you suggesting that I am a bad influence on Milly?’
‘Not intentionally. And so far you have done her a great deal of good. She has taken advice from you regarding her dress and manners that she would never have taken from me. But was it wise to bring her here, tonight, for example? Is it really kind of you to introduce her to a world in which she can never have so much as a toehold?’
She firmed her mouth mutinously. Milly could have very much more than a toehold if he would only relinquish his absurd belief that he ought to be making a splendid dynastic marriage. If she became his countess people might talk for a while, but the novelty would soon wear off. There would be some other scandal brewing, somewhere, to make them lose interest—particularly if she behaved well.
‘You must have noticed how many looks have been directed at our box tonight,’ he persisted. ‘Everyone wants to know who my guests are. And if they don’t know, they will make it their business to find out. You know what nasty minds people have. How long do you think it will be before somebody jumps to the conclusion that I have foisted my mistress on you? You would become a laughing stock.’
‘Much I care for that,’ she said, militantly lifting her chin.
‘Your loyalty is commendable, but in this instance it is not very wise.’
She supposed she could see his point. People would want to know who Milly was now that she had been seen in public in such elevated company. And people were always prepared to think the worst. They would never credit any man behaving with such generosity towards a woman of lowly birth unless she was his mistress. And he had gone to such pains to shield Milly from precisely this sort of conjecture.
‘Oh…’ No wonder he’d been so cross with her for bringing Milly along tonight. All that talk about not wanting her to become a laughing stock was so fustian. It was Milly’s reputation he was trying to protect.
‘This ruse has gone far enough. I cannot permit the association between you two girls to continue.’
‘What?’ She had been on the verge of apologising for exposing Milly to public scrutiny, and promising she would carry on the friendship with more discretion in future. But now he expected her to drop Milly altogether? Just when she was going to be most in need of a real friend?
Breaking off with Harry was going to be the hardest thing she’d ever done. But at least she’d thought she would have Milly to turn to for consolation in the aftermath.
But if Lord Ledbury had his way her life would descend into that same dreary round that had pitched her into Harry’s arms in the first place. Only now it would be far harder to bear because for a short while she’d discovered what it felt like to have a friend, a girl of her own age, who had given her a glimpse into a world she’d only ever been able to dream of.
For years she had yearned for some kind of adventure. She had sometimes wondered, wistfully, what it would have been like to have been the Earl of Caxton’s other granddaughter. The one who had got away from England and its stuffy rules and restrictions altogether. Lady Jayne might not actually be having an adventure now, but hearing Milly talk about hers was almost as good.
And then again, once Harry was out of the picture, Lord Ledbury would no longer need to pretend any interest in her, either. He would openly court other women whilst cutting her dead. Not that she wanted to marry him, or anyone else—not this Season. That was not the point.
The point was… Well, she couldn’t think what the point was when he made her so cross. She was sure she didn’t know why being set at a distance from him should bother her in the least, when he was so overbearing and critical…and…and he had no right to tell her with whom she might be friends! She had defied her own grandfather when he’d tried to dictate to her on just such a matter. Should she meekly fall in with Lord Ledbury’s orders?
Absolutely not!
She was not going to give Milly up, and that was that.
Oh, how glad she was that she’d already arranged to meet Harry behind his back.
She would show him that she was quite capable of running her own life and choosing her own friends.
With a toss of her head she turned away, without vouchsafing him a single word, and took a seat next to Lady Penrose.
* * *
Just as she had predicted, it was not very hard to persuade Lady Penrose to allow her to attend the Lambournes’ masquerade ball. The very day after the theatre trip, when they had been discussing how much they had enjoyed it, and how much Milly had added to their enjoyment with her witty remarks, all she’d had to do was sigh wistfully and say what a shame it was she would never be able to take her to a ball. Then she’d picked up the invitation, and said, ‘This is the only sort of thing where we might get away with it, since everyone would be masked and nobody quite sure of anyone’s identity.’
Lady Penrose had looked at her through narrowed eyes. ‘You really wish to attend this masked ball, do you not?’
Lady Jayne had nodded.
Lady Penrose had frowned thoughtfully.
‘I suppose I ought not to be surprised. It is exactly the sort of thing to appeal to you young things rather than the staid parties which suit me. And do you know,’ she had said, her lips pressing together in an expression of annoyance, ‘I think you ought to be allowed to enjoy your first London Season. You have not uttered one word of complaint about the limited events to which I have taken you, though I can tell they have not always been to your taste. You are such a good girl, Jayne, that I cannot think why your grandfather feels he needs to be so strict with you. This is exactly the way he treated your aunt Aurora, you know. No wonder she ran off in the end. It would have been much better if he’d allowed her an outlet for her high spirits, rather than trying to crush her. Not that you are anything like her. Dear me, no. Whilst you have lived under my roof you have always behaved exactly as you should. If you really wish to attend this ball, then I… Yes, I do believe I shall allow you to go. You deserve a treat.’
Lady Jayne had been ready to curl up with shame. She had not behaved as she should—not at all! She had sneaked away to meet Harry in libraries, or out on chilly terraces, and had even climbed out of her window to meet him in the park.
Well, she’d make it up to Lady Penrose by really be
ing a model of decorum once the masquerade was over. Aside from the matter of defying Lord Ledbury’s decree with regard to Milly, which did not count. If Lady Penrose did not object to Milly, then that was all that mattered.
But she soon discovered that though it was all very well tempting to put right all the wrongs she had done with regard to Harry, in order to reach the moral high ground she had to scramble through some very treacherous territory. She even turned Lady Penrose into an accomplice!
‘You will need a disguise, not a costume,’ Lady Penrose declared. ‘A mask will not be enough. If you wear a dress that is too memorable somebody might look too closely at you and recognise you, which would never do. Wear something plain. The plainer the better. Something you have never worn before and will never wear again. And you must definitely cover your hair,’ she said, eyeing Lady Jayne’s golden ringlets with a frown. ‘It is so distinctive.’
She’d ordered Josie to scrape it away from her face, fix it in tight braids and, as an added precaution, cover it with a white sort of bonnet thing, so that even if the hood of her pale blue domino should slip nobody would catch so much as a glimpse of a golden ringlet.
But the most daring part of her disguise would be Lady Penrose’s absence.
‘Nobody will believe I would ever let you out of my sight, so strictly have I adhered to your grandfather’s terms up until now,’ she said with a gleam in her eye. ‘And they also know that if I were to go I would never, absolutely never, do anything so vulgar as dress up as a shepherdess or a Greek nymph.’ She shuddered at the very thought. ‘No, if I were to chaperone you I would do so in a proper evening gown, with perhaps a loo mask as a concession to the theme of the event. So even if somebody should suspect you look a bit like Lady Jayne Chilcott, the fact that I am not there will persuade them they are mistaken.’
She raised a hand to her throat and gave a nervous laugh. ‘My goodness, I am become quite a rebel! I do not know whether to congratulate myself for finally showing Lord Caxton that he has no right to dictate to me about which venues I consider suitable for you to attend, whilst I have the charge of you, or whether to give myself a stern talking-to for allowing you out of my sight. Though I cannot be sorry,’ she declared, ‘that someone from our family is attending, even if nobody knows who you are. As you know, I had wanted to support Lord Lambourne’s return to Society. He made mistakes, but I hope we all know our Christian duty well enough to extend a spirit of forgiveness now that he is reconciled with his wife.’
But, in spite of the delight they took in planning their rebellion against Lord Caxton, by the time it came to Tuesday night both ladies were in quite a state. Lady Jayne gave up waiting decorously on the sofa and stood at the window, watching out for Milly’s arrival.
Lady Penrose simply paced the floor.
‘Oh, dear,’ she said, for the umpteenth time. ‘I should not be doing this. If anything were to happen to you, your grandfather would never forgive me.’
‘What could possibly happen to me? I shall only be at a masquerade ball. In a private house.’
‘These events sometimes degenerate into sad romps. It is why your grandfather would disapprove.’
‘Miss Brigstock and I will have a male escort, Lady Penrose.’
‘Yes, but we hardly know this Lieutenant Kendell.’
‘Surely he must be perfectly respectable,’ Lady Jayne replied mischievously, ‘since Lord Ledbury introduced us to him.’
She had taken great delight in getting her seal of approval for the male escort in question by emphasising his connection to Lord Ledbury. The mere mention of his name always soothed Lady Penrose’s ruffled feathers. And Lady Jayne hadn’t been able to help enjoying using him to enable her to go through with an enterprise he would roundly condemn, should he ever find out about it. It was a fitting revenge for the way he’d tried to dictate with whom she could be friends.
At last the long-awaited carriage drew up outside. They had decided to hire a hack, since travelling in Lady Penrose’s town carriage would betray their identity at once.
She saw Milly getting out and so, before Lady Penrose had time to think better of letting her go out without her, she flew across the room, gave her a swift hug, promised that she would be very, very careful, and ran from the room.
‘This is so exciting,’ said Milly as Lady Jayne bundled her back into the hired cab and climbed in after her.
Exciting was not the word Lady Jayne would have chosen to describe the emotions churning round her stomach. She was riddled with guilt at not only deceiving Lady Penrose, but making her an accomplice. She was dreading giving Harry the news that would break his heart. This evening was going to be quite an ordeal.
A bit like lancing a boil. Quite painful, and messy, but once it was done she would be able to return to a more healthy state of mind. Eventually.
‘You look adorable,’ said Harry, who had been sitting in one corner, hidden from the inquisitive eyes of the footman who had opened the carriage door for her. He had gone to pick up Milly first, thinking it would be best for them all to arrive together, rather than waste time trying to locate each other whilst heavily disguised if they made their way to the ball separately.
As he ran his eyes over her with smouldering intensity her discomfort increased all the more. For one thing, it was hard to accept compliments and admiring looks when she was about to break things off with him.
For another, she knew she did not look in the least adorable. She looked like a nun in a wimple.
‘What do you think of my costume, Lieutenant Kendell?’ Milly twitched aside the heavy cloak she wore, drawing Harry’s eyes away from Lady Jayne.
‘My word,’ he said, his mouth spreading into an appreciative grin. ‘That is quite something.’
Indeed it was, thought Lady Jayne with a spurt of feminine jealousy. Milly had told her that she had once seen a Spanish woman wearing a dress of red satin, with hundreds of ruffles round the skirts, which had looked so incredibly opulent that she had vowed if ever she had any money she would buy such a dress for herself. She knew, of course, that such a style would normally be quite unsuitable for everyday, but it would be perfect for a masquerade ball. Red satin she had promised herself, if ever she had the means, so red satin she would have.
Her own plain white muslin gown, and the blue silk domino that covered it, were positively insipid in comparison with Milly’s flamboyant costume. Particularly since it moulded to Milly’s figure as though it had been painted on. She even had a red mask—Lady Jayne sighed enviously—studded with tiny red beads to resemble jewelled eyebrows.
She had to remind herself quite sternly that it was ridiculous to feel jealous when the whole point of her nondescript outfit was to deflect attention, not to attract it.
Their host and hostess were waiting, arm in arm, at the head of the stairs to greet their guests as they arrived. Lord Lambourne was dressed in some kind of military uniform, while his wife was dressed in a costume very similar to Milly’s. Spanish ladies were obviously in vogue for masquerade balls this Season.
Their party passed on into a ballroom where dancing was already underway. No sooner had they got there than a rather portly man in black silk, sporting a pair of red devil’s horns, lurched up to them.
‘Do I know either of you fair maidens?’ He peered at Lady Jayne and Milly in turn. ‘My, but I am going to enjoy endeavouring to penetrate your disguises.’
The lascivious tone of his voice made Lady J
ayne pull her domino tight to her throat and shrink closer to Harry.
But Milly gave a sultry gurgle and replied, ‘And I shall enjoy fielding your efforts to do so.’
He couldn’t tear his eyes from the front of Milly’s very tight and daringly low-cut bodice when he asked her to dance.
Had Lady Jayne been on the receiving end of such a lascivious look she would have slapped the portly devil’s face, but Milly did not appear to feel in the least bit insulted. On the contrary, she laughed with apparent delight and went off to dance with a perfect stranger…
Leaving her alone with Harry.
Chapter Six
While Lady Jayne was trying to think of some way to rescue Milly, even though she did not look as though she wanted rescuing, Harry swept her onto the dance floor.
As he twirled her round and round she remembered exactly why she had begun to look out for him whenever she had attended any of the assemblies that the locals had put on to welcome his regiment to their part of Kent. He was such a good dancer.
It was sad to think this would be the last time they ever danced together. She was going to miss dancing with him. Well, the truth was she was already missing dancing altogether. She bitterly regretted the fact that she had been so adamant in rejecting all offers to dance with anyone when she had first come to Town. It would make it very awkward to accept anyone now. Though she could not think of anyone she was likely to enjoy dancing with anyway—except perhaps Lord Ledbury, who would not read more into it than was really there. Only he never danced, either. She was not sure why. He scarcely limped at all. Though he did sometimes look very fatigued. And it was at those times that he became particularly crotchety with her.
According to Milly, he got crotchety with her, too. Apparently, during the year she’d acted as his nurse, they had frequently bickered. Though Lady Jayne found that hard to believe. Milly was such a sunny, good-natured person that it was hard to imagine her bickering with anyone. Even Lord Ledbury. Although admittedly she was never in his vicinity for long before something he said or did annoyed her.
An Escapade and an Engagement Page 8