Agree to a summer wedding? He’s hardly agreed to commit to the courtship.
“I will speak with him tonight at Almack’s, Lady Frances.”
“Thank you, Miss Evans. I am looking forward to it. Not so much because of the Duke, but for the atmosphere and the dancing. Faith, I hope he likes to dance!”
Her eyes lit up again at the thought of it. Alexandra only hoped that she would not be disappointed.
* * *
They arrived at Almack’s just before 11 p.m. This time, Alexandra did not have to walk half the length of the street, for Lady Frances’s carriage stopped right outside the building. She followed the Lady out of the carriage, which departed at once, making room for the next carriage in line. The building was bright, and music drifted from the French windows. She saw the outline of people walking and dancing inside.
She and Lady Frances approached the door where two Lady Patronesses stood. Alexandra recognized one as the Lady Marlborough, her benefactor who’d arranged for the voucher. She clutched it in her gloved hand and approached.
“Lady Marlborough, a pleasure,” she curtsied before the older woman, who was clad in a red and black gown. She frowned and eyed Alexandra from top to bottom, all while taking the voucher from her for inspection.
Alexandra had invested in a new gown for the occasion. It was made of muslin and was a silvery color that she thought would look nice in the candlelight. The fabric was gathered under her bust, letting the dress flow along her body beautifully. She’d arranged her hair in an elaborate up-do consisting of twists from the bottom which ended on the top of her head in a pouf. Wisps of curly hair hung along the side of her face. It looked slightly disheveled, but that was the fashion.
Lady Frances, not in the mood for an elaborate hairstyle, had opted to hide her light hair beneath a powder blue turban. A high array of feathers atop the turban made it look rather dramatic. It matched her blue dress perfectly and Alexandra had to admit, Lady Frances looked a vision without even trying. She, on the other hand, felt a little dumpy despite the new dress and fancy hairdo. She felt as though she was sticking out, as though all the ladies knew that she didn’t belong among them. She focused her attention back to Lady Marlborough who eyed the voucher and appeared to confirm her fears.
“Alexandra Evans… I do not recall.” She looked up at her and fiddled with the quizzing glass that hung down her chest.
Alexandra felt cold sweat break out along her spine.
“I applied on the recommendation from Mr. Holmes. Of Holmes’s Fine Jewelry.” She flashed a broad smile she hoped made her look confident.
“Is there a problem?” Lady Frances asked as she passed by, having of course been admitted at once.
“No, not at all, I shall join you inside in one moment.”
“Very well.” The Lady disappeared inside the building while Alexandra waited for Lady Marlborough to let her in. After an eternity, the older woman’s eyes lit up in recognition.
“Of course. The jeweler. You are a friend of Lord Alderth, I recall now.”
“Lord Alderth? No…” Alexandra stopped herself. “I mean, yes. Indeed. I am.”
Lady Marlborough smiled kindly at her. “Excuse my failure to recognize you. I am getting on in years, aren’t I?” She giggled in a polite fashion, holding her hand in front of her mouth.
“Mable,” she elbowed the lady next to her. “This is Alexandra Evans, Lord Alderth’s friend who applied for the month of April.”
The other woman glanced at her. “Ah, what a pleasure to meet you. But why did you only apply for the month of April? Why not for the Season?” she looked from Alexandra to Lady Marlborough and back.
What is happening? Why do they think I am a friend of Lord Alderth? I never even met the man. They must be taking me for someone else.
“I applied in the past but was never able to be admitted. When Lord Alderth implied I had a chance at admittance this time, I thought it wise to ask for just a month.” The women looked at one another.
“Oh no, we must have mistakenly declined your previous applications. Do not worry, we will make adjustments and ensure you have a voucher for the entire Season, Miss Evans.”
“I thank you,” she curtsied again. What a stroke of luck. Somehow these ladies had confused her with someone else. Regardless, she would take the voucher if they presented it to her and make the most of it, until the mistaken identity was discovered. By that time, she would have probably gathered enough clients to make it all worth the trouble.
Perhaps she would need to speak to Mr. Holmes again to see what the source of the confusion was.
For now, she decided not to worry. She gathered her dress up and took the two steps inside the mansion where the sounds of the Waltz drifted from the ballroom.
“Oh my, what a darling little locket you have on. May I see?”
Lady Marlborough leaned forward and picked the locket up to take a closer look.
“It belonged to my mother. A gift from my late father. It contains her portrait.”
“Oh, very kind of her to gift it to you,” Lady Marlborough let the locket go and smiled at Alexandra.
“Indeed.” She decided not to tell her the true story behind the locket. Her father had commissioned a portrait of her mother during their courtship and had worn it until the day he died.
For as long as Alexandra could remember, her mother had worn it around her neck after his death. Once Alexandra was old enough, her mother had given it to her. A token to remember her father by. And now, a token to remember them both. She was surprised Lady Marlborough would even ask about it, for it was a simple, gold-filled, oval shaped locket. The letters L&W were engraved on the back. Lily for her mother, and Will for her father.
Alexandra clutched the locket in her hand as she entered the ballroom.
Chapter 14
There she was, coming through the entrance now. She looked a vision. Maxwell had a hard time averting his eyes. He was certain she couldn’t see him as he was hidden behind a pillar. He’d seen Lady Frances arrive a few minutes prior and had been disappointed Miss Evans did not appear to be with her. He’d felt rather sad at the notion that she might not show up. Though of course she had to. She was the chaperone, after all.
“Ah, there is Miss Evans, I shall say hello!” Lord Hendley had followed him out of the ballroom, having torn himself away from a lady he’d been dancing with.
He marched on ahead and waved to the matchmaker, who smiled when she saw him. Maxwell quickly followed his friend.
“Good evening, Miss Evans!” Hendley bowed to her. She seemed pleased to see him and flashed a warm smile.
“How are you, Lord Hendley?”
“As yet unwed, dear Miss Evans,” he joked and broke into a laugh. “Oh, do not fret, I jest. Although I have my eye on a lovely Marquess’s daughter, if you could work your magic?”
“Hendley, leave Miss Evans in peace.” Maxwell stepped in. Hendley could sometimes be a little too familiar.
“It is quite alright, Your Grace. I am familiar with Lord Hendley’s humor,” she smiled at the younger man while not even glancing at Maxwell.
Maxwell felt a jolt of jealousy in his stomach.
“Is this your first visit to Almack’s?” He attempted to make conversation in order to draw her attention to him. Finally, she looked at him.
“No. It is here that I met your mother, the Duchess. I am sure you were aware of this already, though it must have slipped your mind.”
Darn. It did. How could I forget? She’ll think me a fool.
“Of course, of course. That is true.” He stopped speaking as there were no words forming in his mind. He could not think of anything to say.
“Have you seen Lady Frances?” Miss Evans asked, prompting Maxwell to look around the room.
“I saw her a moment ago, but she has vanished. Perhaps she has gone to the ballroom? Would you like me to accompany you there?” Maxwell asked and offered her his arm. He knew it would be impolite for he
r not to take it. Still, he worried that she might refuse. He was relieved when she moved towards him. She placed her gloved hand on his arm, and he walked her to the ballroom in the back of the house with Lord Hendley beside them.
He enjoyed the feeling of her hand on his arm; there was a tingle where they touched, and he found himself smiling at her. For just one moment, he imagined what it might be like to walk into the ballroom with her by his side as more than just a chaperone. The thought made him feel warm inside; happy. The moment didn’t last.
“Lady Frances,” she called out and removed her hand from his arm. Up ahead, Frances stood with some other ladies, presumably her friends. She nodded at him when she saw him and walked over. Maxwell couldn’t help but feel a hint of irritation at her arrival. He’d hoped for more time with Miss Evans.
Once the customary greetings were completed, Lady Frances stood and looked expectantly at him. Maxwell knew she wanted him to ask her to dance, and he knew he had no choice but to do so. Yet he could not bring himself to. The situation was beginning to become rather uncomfortable when Hendley stepped in.
“Miss Evans, would you reserve the Cotillion for me?” She nodded with a smile.
“Certainly, it would be a pleasure.”
“Perhaps we can then discuss my prospects!” He laughed again. Maxwell gave him a jab in the elbow.
“Ow, bad form! Now, Glatterlen, you had better reserve a dance with the lovely Lady Frances, before I get her promise of a dance as well.”
Hendley. He wanted to slap him. But he knew his friend was doing him a favor, as he would have to dance with her sooner or later.
“Yes, of course. Lady Frances, would you do me the honor of the next dance?”
“Of course,” she replied though she looked a little hurt that he’d needed promoting to ask. Next to him, Miss Evans glared at him. She cleared her throat.
“Your Grace, would you have one moment to discuss a matter with me?” She was quite forthright, and he felt as though he was about to be scolded by the headmistress.
“I do. I am in need of a refreshment. Accompany me to the supper room?”
“That will be acceptable.” Miss Evans turned and walked out of the ballroom. He took one moment to observe how her light dress moved along her shape and sighed. It was unseemly to ogle at a woman, but he could not help himself.
“I shall keep the Lady Frances entertained in your absence,” Hendley suggested, causing Miss Evans to turn on her heels.
“My good Lord Hendley, you know it would be most improper for you to entertain the Lady alone.”
Hendley waved his hand. “Ah. All the rules and regulations. Shall the Lady be left all alone?”
Lady Frances turned to him. “I am quite alright, Lord Hendley. I shall join my friends for the time being and await Your Grace’s return so we may commence our dancing.”
Maxwell gave the lady a nod and motioned for the matchmaker to walk ahead to the supper room.
* * *
“Ah, dry cake!” Maxwell exclaimed upon reaching the supper rooms. “I adore a good piece of dry cake.” He took two slices in a napkin and turned to face Miss Evans who was eyeing the bread and butter but did not touch anything.
“Are you not having anything?”
“I am not hungry, Your Grace.”
“By Jove, what nonsense! I can hear your stomach rumble across the room. Here.” He took one of his slices of cake and handed it to her. Knowing she would not want to make a scene, she took it. “There is nothing better than dry cake from Almack’s.”
“If you insist.” She took a bite of the cake and nodded as she chewed with her eyes closed.
“Good, isn’t it?” He took a big bite himself.
“Delicious,” she took another bite.
“Food is one of my vices. Sweets especially. Do you care for sweets?”
“I enjoy a piece of cake now and again.” She stopped for a moment, then added “The Chatterleys invited me to dinner some weeks ago and served licorice after dinner. It was by far the best I have tasted.”
“Licorice?” Maxwell scowled. “It is rather vile, but to each their own. I am rather fond of marzipan myself. Any sweet will do, really!”
“Is that so? Your mother only said you enjoyed venison. She did not mention your love of sweets.”
He rolled his eyes. “I do not enjoy venison. Please, do not listen to my mother regarding my likes and dislikes, for you will know not me, but the man she wishes I was.”
“Very well. Perhaps if Your Grace gave me the opportunity, I would have better information to go on and move this courtship forward.”
“Ah yes, for the courtship must move forward.”
She said nothing but fixed her stare upon him in a manner that made him uncomfortable. “I understand you have work to do. And I know where this courtship will end. Alright, I will be more forthcoming in future.” He took another bite of the cake, finishing it off.
“Not just information. Your Grace will have to be more open with Lady Frances. You cannot dismiss her every attempt at conversation. You cannot require prompting by your friend before asking her to dance. This courtship depends on mutual respect to the process.”
Ah, here it was. The scolding. He liked how fiery she got when talking about this courtship. It would be good if he felt as passionate about it as she did.
“I understand. Fear not, I shall ensure the Lady Frances feels sufficiently attended to tonight.”
“Thank you, Your Grace.” Miss Evans was about to excuse herself and return to the ballroom when an idea came to Maxwell.
“There is one more thing.”
She stopped. “Yes?”
“Dance the Waltz with me.”
Her honey-brown eyes grew wide.
“Pon rep! I could never! Not the Waltz.” She was still surprised the Lady Patronesses even allowed the Waltz. The touching during dancing was quite scandalous, even among the ton.
“The Quadrille then. You already agreed to a dance with Lord Hendley.”
Her face turned red, whether with rage or embarrassment he didn’t know, but he was rather pleased with himself for remembering that she was in no position to decline. Etiquette called for a lady to agree to any dance request, unless she did not intend to dance at all. And she had already agreed to dance, therefore, she had to accept his request.
From the expression on her face he could tell she was ready to pull caps with him, but she knew she had no choice.
“If Your Grace insists,” she relented.
“I do,” he said with a wide grin as he headed back to the table for another piece of cake.
Chapter 15
Alexandra walked back to the ballroom where Lady Frances was on the dancefloor with a gentleman, enjoying herself.
She recognized the gentleman at once. He was Lord Gainsborough. Her mother had arranged his marriage some years ago. Alexandra scanned the ballroom and spotted his wife, dancing with another gentleman herself.
Lord Hendley was dancing as well. Alexandra recognized several people on the dancefloor as clients or former clients, or people she wished were clients. She spotted the Duke enter the ballroom. He looked at her with a grin on his face, but she ignored him. He headed toward a group of men standing on the far-left corner of the room, clearly pleased with himself.
Alexandra couldn’t wait for this courtship to be over. They were only on the second meeting, but the Duke was already driving her crazy. And now he had the audacity to force her into dancing with him. He knew very well that the only way a lady could avoid dancing with a suitor she did not like was to not dance at all. Those were the rules. She could also not just back out of her agreement with Hendley, for that would have been bad manners too.
I’m not even a lady of the ton and these rules are still making my life difficult. She wished she could move on from this troublesome match already.
“Why the sour face?” A woman’s voice brought Alexandra out of her angry thoughts.
She turned
around and saw Lady Chatterley. Her stomach had significantly rounded since the last time they met, only a few weeks ago. Alexandra was frankly surprised to even see her at a ball still, in her condition. The baby had to be due very soon.
Then again, one of the reasons she had matched Lady Chatterley to the Marquee was their mutual love of social engagements. Both were the very definition of social butterflies, always at every event.
Theirs had been an easy courtship, drawn out only by the fact that Lady Chatterley’s family did not have the wealth to match that of the Marquess. Still, in the end the Marquess had gotten his way, having fallen head over heels for the lady. Sometimes it worked out for the best.
Perfectly Mismatched With The Duke (Historical Regency Romance) Page 9