“They are old friends,” Lady Barrington said. “Well, young friends, but friends of long standing.”
“How wonderful for both of them.”
“I suppose it is.” Lady Barrington made the observation as if it was the first time she’d ever given any thought to the benefits of his and Odette’s association.
“What if this doesn’t work?” Real worry had entered Odette’s whisper.
“We will go to Scotland if need be.”
She turned worried eyes on him once more. “Even if we were willing to destroy our own lives, sacrificing our standing, our reputations, our futures, we cannot do that to our children, or theirs. The scandal of an elopement would haunt us for generations.”
He knew it well enough. He’d meant his suggestion of Scotland as an attempt to lighten her heart. She was too worried to be teased into any degree of relief.
“We will find a way,” he vowed. “And we have Mrs. Northrop on our side.”
He heard her next breath shake from her. “Do you think anyone would notice if you held my hand?”
“Unfortunately, yes.”
On the stage below, the opera began. Their conversation ended. He remained at her side the rest of the evening, but they spoke very little. He did not know how much longer he could bear this.
If Mrs. Northrop couldn’t manage the seemingly impossible, they might grow desperate indeed.
* * *
Jack never would have imagined when the Season began that he would be spending its final weeks answering the summons of a matchmaking matron. Yet, here he was, arriving, as instructed, in the Barrington House book room, ready to do whatever she deemed necessary. Were she not the only hope he and Odette had, he might have objected.
He stepped inside and saw not Mrs. Northrop, but Odette. She offered her hands in welcome. He took them both, raising one to his lips.
The door closed behind him. Without releasing Odette’s hands, he looked back. Mrs. Northrop gave him a nod and a smile, then crossed to a chair not far from the door and sat. She took up a book, opened it, and began to read.
“She thought we would appreciate some time together,” Odette said.
He returned his gaze to her beloved face. “Truly?”
She nodded. “We cannot be entirely alone. Were we to be caught out in utter privacy, it would ruin us both.”
“But might solve our problem.”
She smiled and laughed a bit. “A slightly better option than Scotland, but not by much.”
He released one of her hands, freeing his to brush gently along her cheek. “If only we were home in Somerset. There were far more opportunities to see each other.”
She leaned into his touch and closed her eyes.
He slipped his other arm around her waist and pulled her close. She rested her head against his chest.
“I do love you, Odette,” he whispered.
“And I love you. I have for ever so long.”
He kissed the top of her head, his arms wrapped around her. How long it had been since he’d last held her. Long minutes passed as they stood in each other’s embrace. If fate had chosen to be kind, this would not have been such a rare occurrence.
“How was your day, darling?” he asked.
“Lovely.” She made no move to pull away. “Today was the Summerfields’ at-home. Tabitha and I were able to speak for over an hour. The more I come to know her, the more I like her.”
“I believe Terrance could say the same thing.”
She tucked herself more snugly against him. “Mrs. Northrop believes Tabitha is fond of Terrance as well.”
“Truly?” He looked over at Mrs. Northrop.
For a lady who could not possibly have helped overhearing their conversation, she was doing an admirable job of paying them no heed.
Jack lightly kissed Odette’s forehead, something he’d taken to doing in the weeks before she’d left for the Season. He’d not been permitted to do so even once the past months.
“Let’s sit, darling,” he said. “We’ve time enough.”
They walked hand in hand to the sofa. She sat near enough to lean against him. He set his arm about her shoulders.
“Did your parents ever agree to bring your harp to London?” he asked.
“No. Their plans for this Season did not include me being happy.”
He tugged her a little closer. “Our scheme to render you unlikeable didn’t make things any better.”
“I would have liked to have had my harp here,” she said wistfully.
“Someday, Odette, when we have a home of our own, I will see to it you have a harp at home and one here in Town. Then you need never be separated from your music.”
“Or from you,” she added.
“That will be the very best part.”
* * *
Adelaide had arranged this innocent interlude for reasons beyond the enjoyment of the young couple. She wanted to see for herself how they interacted and whether or not they were as good for each other as she hoped they were. She was not in the habit of making unhappy or unhealthy matches.
Listening to Jack and Odette from her spot near the door, she had her answer. He was kind and gentle, careful of the young lady’s feelings, attentive. Odette spoke to him with an openness she offered no one else. She was happier in his company, more content.
They were good for each other.
Too many people were not fortunate enough to be blessed with a happy marriage. Adelaide had made it her personal mission to change that one blissful couple at a time. Here was an opportunity to manage two happy matches at once.
In two evenings’ time, all four young people and their parents would be at the social event of the Season: a ball at the Grosvenor Square home of the Duke and Duchess of Wickford. Adelaide meant to have all the pieces in place for a very impressive bit of matrimonial chess.
Chapter Nine
“I understand young Mr. Hewitt will be at the ball this evening,” Mrs. Northrop said to Mother as they stepped from the carriage outside the duke and duchess’s Town home. “You must be very pleased about that.”
Mother looked confused for only a fraction of a moment before assuming an expression of delight. “We are always pleased with his company.”
“As well you should be.” Mrs. Northrop addressed the comment to both of Odette’s parents. “An exemplary young gentleman. His connection to your family is quite a boon.”
“I suppose it is.” Father’s lips pressed outward in a frown, as they always did when he was pondering something.
“Come, then,” Mrs. Northrop instructed. “We oughtn’t delay.”
She moved forward, directly toward the front door. Odette hurriedly caught up with her, leaving her parents to do the same.
They stepped inside and were divested of their shawls and Father of his outer coat. They followed the din of voices to the wide corridor directly adjacent to the ballroom where their host and hostess were welcoming their guests one family at a time. The first guests Mrs. Northrop came upon were none other than the Hewitts.
Mrs. Hewitt, in particular, appeared happy to see them. “A pleasure, Mrs. Northrop.”
“Thank you again for the lovely visit this morning,” she answered. This morning? Mrs. Northrop had called on Mrs. Hewitt? “Having been in Bath for most of this Season, I do appreciate getting reacquainted with the details of the ton.”
Mrs. Hewitt waved that off. “You knew things I hadn’t heard yet. I am in awe of how many very significant people you are very closely acquainted with.”
Mrs. Northrop appeared neither flattered nor embarrassed by the praise. “I am pleased to have added you and your family to that circle of acquaintances, as well as Lord and Lady Barrington’s family.”
That brought Mrs. Hewitt’s attention to Odette. “A joy to see you again.” While Mrs. Hewitt had never been unkind or cold, this was a warmer greeting than Odette was accustomed to receiving, especially since coming to London.
“And I you,”
she answered most sincerely. She had always liked Jack’s mother. “This promises to be a lovely evening.”
“Indeed. Anyone who is anyone is on Grosvenor Square tonight.”
Odette caught Jack’s eye. He smiled warmly, a gesture she returned. He crossed to where she stood and offered a bow. “Miss Armistead.” Did everyone else hear the tenderness in his voice as he spoke her name?
“Mr. Hewitt.” She answered the same way.
“Is it too much to hope that you might have saved a set for me?”
She dipped her head regally. “I believe I might be able to find one.”
Mrs. Northrop inserted herself once more. “Her Grace wished specifically for you to dance with her cousin as well as Lord Keslington, a close friend of the duke’s. And I mean to introduce you this evening to the Earl of Manningford.”
Why was Mrs. Northrop arranging for her to dance with these gentlemen when she knew full well where Odette’s affection lay?
Mrs. Hewitt’s attention was now fixed not on Mrs. Northrop, but on Odette. She watched her with interest. “You are beginning to catch the notice of some very well-connected gentlemen.”
“It would seem so,” Odette said, attempting to sound at least not displeased by the turn of events.
“She began the Season with a little difficulty,” Mrs. Northrop said. “Now that she has found a more sure footing, I am certain she will be a rousing success.”
Mrs. Hewitt made a sound of pondering.
Mrs. Northrop indicated with a slight wave of her hand that the Hewitts’ turn to greet the duke and duchess had arrived. Jack left Odette’s side to join his parents as they offered their bows and curtsies.
Odette whispered to Mrs. Northrop, “Have you truly arranged for me to dance with those gentlemen you mentioned?”
“Certainly.”
Frustration expanded in her chest, causing an uncomfortable tightness around her lungs. “I thought you were going to help mine and Jack’s cause, not pursue . . . general matchmaking.”
Mrs. Northrop arched a single raven eyebrow. “I am not one to rescind my promises, Miss Armistead. You, however, are welcome to doubt me.”
There was nothing truly critical in the comment, yet Odette felt a little chastised. Did she trust Mrs. Northrop? Did she have any choice but to trust her?
The Hewitts had finished their greetings to the host and hostess. Mother and Father stepped forward to begin theirs. Odette stood beside them, waiting to be acknowledged as was customary.
“Miss Armistead,” the duchess said after a moment. “A pleasure.”
“Your Grace.” She gave the expected curtsy.
“I hope you will come call during my next at-home,” the duchess said. “I have not had the opportunity to come to know you this Season.”
“I would very much enjoy that.” How she managed the sentence whole despite her shock, she didn’t know. Princess Pompous had not exactly been a highly sought-after companion. To be issued a personal invitation to call upon a duchess was not an insignificant thing.
“Mrs. Northrop.” The duchess held out her hands in greeting to the matchmaker, a very personal greeting for such a formal occasion. Were the two ladies more closely acquainted than Odette had realized? “My sister is still singing your praises. I would not be surprised if her first grandchild is named for you.”
Mrs. Northrop gave a single nod. “For the little one’s sake, let us hope her grandchild is a girl. Adelaide would be a difficult name to bear all his life.”
The duchess laughed. “I could not be happier to see you here. If we are unable to spend time together this evening, do call upon me. I have hardly seen you this Season.”
“Of course.” Mrs. Northrop’s smile spoke of friendship. With a duchess. One who wished for her particular company.
Their host and hostess turned to the next guests in line, freeing Odette and her family to move into the ballroom. Jack had remained behind after his parents had moved along. He offered Odette his arm.
She looked to Mrs. Northrop, but the matchmaker was speaking with a matron Odette had seen at nearly every social gathering of significance this Season.
“I do believe we are permitted to walk in together,” Jack said, his arm still forward in anticipation.
Odette accepted it with a flip of her heart. “I cannot remember the last time we walked this way.”
He smiled at her. “You walked on my arm to the supper dance at the Salsteads’ ball a few days ago.”
“That was different,” she said. “You were required to, so no one would think twice about seeing it.”
“Hmm.” He apparently hadn’t pondered it in quite that way. “Then I am even more determined to walk into the ballroom with you.”
They walked through the doors of the ballroom and into the glittering whirl of the Season’s grandest social event. Odette received many of the same looks she had the past few months: blatant curiosity, hints of superiority, subtle dismissal. But she also saw something new sprinkled about the room: smiles of welcome, happiness at her arrival, a hint of approval.
“Walking in with you seems to have helped my standing,” Odette said to Jack.
“It’s not me,” Jack insisted. “I have been hearing very positive things about you at nearly every at-home and casual conversation in the park. I would wager Mrs. Northrop has been doing a great deal of talking.”
“I am beginning to suspect that she knows absolutely everyone.” Odette shook her head. “I had never heard of her until she arrived on our doorstep. Yet, she apparently has more connections than Prinny.”
“And she is utilizing those connections to make certain you’ll dance with every eligible gentleman of importance in Town.” He clearly liked that no more than Odette did. “I am doing my utmost to trust her methods.”
“But it is not easy,” Odette added.
“Not in the least.” He took a breath as they approached his parents and hers, standing to the side of the ballroom, speaking with the Summerfields. “Yet, she is our best chance. We’ll simply have to choose to believe she knows what she is about.”
She offered a quick dip of her head to a group of matrons they passed. Voice still lowered, she spoke to Jack once more. “I don’t know how much longer my heart can bear this.”
“Then tell yourself you need bear it only this one night,” he said. “Tell yourself all our dreams will come true if we can simply endure for this one night.”
This one night. She squared her shoulders. She could do that. She would. She had to.
* * *
Jack waited impatiently for the supper dance. He was struggling to keep his own advice. Trusting Mrs. Northrop’s methods when she was actively making Odette the belle of this particular ball was difficult to say the least. He kept to the edges of the room, avoiding the necessity of asking any other ladies to stand up with him, while keenly aware that doing so would likely mean being the subject of a great many whispers of disapproval in the days to come.
He happened past the Summerfields just as Miss Summerfield was returned to their side by her most recent dance partner. They saw him, not allowing him the luxury of slipping away unnoticed.
“Mr. Hewitt.” Mrs. Summerfield waved him over. “We have not seen much of you yet this evening.” She turned to her daughter. “You have a dance remaining, do you not? An unclaimed set?”
“Mother,” she whispered miserably, heat filling her cheeks.
Despite his preference for dancing only with Odette, he did not wish for Miss Summerfield to be embarrassed or made unhappy. “I would be happy to stand up with you,” he said. “Honored.”
Mrs. Summerfield beamed. Miss Summerfield looked only more miserable. Jack might have been offended if he didn’t see in her eyes a desperation to simply be granted a moment’s respite from the demands of the social whirl. She was quiet, precisely the sort of person who, if the exact opposite wasn’t absolutely required of her, would have kept home, interacting with only the smallest number of her
closest associates. How did her family not see that? Perhaps they simply didn’t care.
“This is the supper dance, Mother,” she said. “It has been claimed.”
The supper dance. He had engaged Odette for the supper dance. How could he politely extricate himself from his current company so he could find her?
“Who has claimed it?” Mrs. Summerfield asked. “No one appears to be approaching.”
Both ladies glanced about, confusion and concern on their faces. He could not simply walk away, no matter his commitment to Odette. He could be a moment late, though he could not, would not relinquish entirely the opportunity to stand up with her and spend the length of supper at her side.
“Mr. Tolmer was meant to stand up with me for this set,” Miss Summerfield said. “Where do you suppose he is?”
Jack knew Tolmer. He was not one to fail in his duties. Jack looked around as well. “I saw him not thirty minutes ago.” Odd.
“You don’t suppose he has run out on his promise?” Miss Summerfield sounded somehow both hopeful and despondent. She’d likely enjoy a respite for the length of a set, yet abandonment did no young lady’s reputation nor happiness any good.
Where was Tolmer? People nearby were beginning to take note of the situation.
“Mr. Hewitt, please will you stand up with her? This humiliation is too much for her delicate feelings.”
“I am engaged for this set,” he said. “I would not wish to do Miss Armistead such a disservice.”
Miss Summerfield, in an admirable show of strength, turned an empathetic gaze on him, but one undermined by the sheen of tears in her eyes. “You must go claim your set. Odette will be quite counting on it.”
“I could spare a moment more to look for Tolmer,” he offered.
Odette arrived unheralded at his side. “Mr. Hewitt. Here you are.”
An overloud whisper from somewhere nearby cut into the brief moment of silence that followed. “The Princess Pompous will order him beheaded.”
Jack pushed down a sharp retort and instead smiled at Odette. “Forgive the delay. Miss Summerfield has been engaged for this dance, yet her partner has not yet arrived. I did not wish to abandon her while she waited.”
A Night in Grosvenor Square Page 7