“We were practically inseparable!” St. John exclaimed.
“Yes, but you were always harping on about your studies,” Sin complained.
“I loved the classics. Still do, I suppose,” Julian said.
“Do you?” Merry asked.
“I’ve caught him twice over the past few weeks,” Julian said, helping himself to a glass. “Once reading Greek, and quoting it to me! And the other day, writing in it.”
“I can’t believe you’ve kept that up,” Sin commented, shaking his head.
“I think there’s a lot about me that you’ve forgotten, or just don’t realize,” St. John said quietly, looking at Merry.
Merry had the grace to look uncomfortable for a moment. “Fungy, after what Miss Grace said, I’ve been thinking…”
He held up his hand. “It’s all right, Merry. I’ve already beaten you to a bloody pulp about it. Although I must admit, you choosing Sin to be the baby’s godfather certainly got me thinking. It hurt, but it made me take a good hard look at my life.” He paused to take a sip of his brandy. “Well, that and nearly drowning.”
“Drowning? When did that happen?” Merry asked, sitting forward.
St. John told them briefly about saving Miss Thalia Grace from the river and the consequences—how it had been the final straw in his decision to make some major changes in his life.
His friends were all stunned into silence, until Merry finally said, “I can’t believe you didn’t tell us.”
St. John looked down at the brandy in his glass. “You were all so busy with your own lives. We haven’t been seeing very much of each other recently.”
“It’s true,” Sin said slowly.
“I can’t change the demands my family are making on me...” Merry began.
“Nor should you. Teresa needs you, and you should be there for her, no matter what.”
“But that doesn’t mean that you can’t come over and share your problems with me, St. John,” his cousin said, earnestly. “I’m still here.”
St. John nodded. “Thank you.”
Sin and Julian immediately both concurred.
“Well, then, perhaps you all can think of a way out of a little dilemma I seem to be facing right now,” St. John said, giving his friends a smile.
“Anything!”
“You met Miss Grace at my little picnic last week,” St. John began.
“Became engaged to Kirtland that day, didn’t she?” Sin asked.
St. John nodded. “That was the whole point of the party. I’d gone to her home to ask her to marry me, and... well, before I could utter a word, she told me she was hoping for a proposal from Kirtland.”
“You were going to propose to her?” Merry was astonished.
“Finally found someone to make you forget Georgiana,” Sin said approvingly.
St. John gave him a little smile. “With Georgiana’s full approval, naturally.”
“But now that Kirtland is gone, Miss Grace is free again,” Julian pointed out.
“Exactly,” St. John said. “Only problem is, I tried to warn her about Kirtland before Halsbury showed up, but Kirtland interrupted us and I didn’t get a chance. He told me to stay away from Rose and then walked away with her. Or—she walked away with him. I’m not sure.”
“Oh, dear,” Julian said.
“Makes things a little difficult,” Merry agreed.
“Not going to give up, are you?” Sin asked.
St. John smiled. “No!”
His friends laughed approvingly at that, and then huddled together.
“We’ll come up with something. Have no fear, Fungy,” Julian said, giving him a pat on the shoulder.
“That’s just what I was counting on.”
Chapter Twenty-Nine
ROSE was just finishing her sampler when her aunt joined her in the drawing room the following day.
“Have you given a thought to what you will wear this evening?” Aunt Farmington asked.
Rose looked up. “I was not planning on going out this evening.” Not after the countless hours of sleep she had lost the past few nights just thinking about St. John.
She could still see his sad face in her mind’s eye when she had walked away with Lord Kirtland. It haunted her—her happy, always smiling St. John looking so miserable. If she had only said something, anything…
“What do you mean? Tonight is Lady Wynworth’s rout. You must attend,” her aunt said, erasing the horrible picture from Rose’s mind and bringing her back to the present.
“If I go, I’m certain to be the laughingstock of the party,” Rose said, stabbing her needle through the cloth savagely.
And if she went, she would surely meet St. John.
What would she do if she were to meet him? Would she have to turn away? Would he? No, there was no way around it. The best thing to do would be to simply not go to any more society parties.
The thought of life without St. John...
Rose squeezed her eyes shut for a moment to stop the stinging of her tears.
“And if you do not go, do you think it will be any better?” her aunt asked.
Rose kept her eyes down. “No, but at least I won’t have to hear the horrible things that people are saying about me.”
“Rose Grace, do not tell me that you are afraid to face your detractors!”
Rose blinked her eyes clear, set down her sewing once again, looked straight at her aunt and said, “I am afraid to face my detractors.”
And St. John.
Aunt Farmington laughed. “No, you are not. And if you are, I shall not allow you to be. You will attend the rout this evening.”
“No...” Rose began, but was interrupted by the butler, who walked into the room, followed by Lady Huntley and Lady Reath — the wives of St. John’s friends. Could it have only been a week ago that she’d met them?
“I beg your pardon, ma’am, but Miss Grace has visitors.” He announced the ladies and then left the room. Rose stood up to greet them.
“What a pleasant surprise! Please come in,” Aunt Farmington said to the two ladies.
“Thank you,” Lady Huntley said, her bright blue eyes looking openly and sympathetically at Rose.
“We came by to see how you were, Miss Grace,” Lady Reath explained, settling her petite frame on the sofa, “and to ask if you were planning on attending Lady Wynworth’s party this evening.” She was as direct and straightforward as Rose remembered.
Aunt Farmington gave Rose a significant look.
“I was not planning on doing so,” Rose said, ignoring her aunt.
“But you must!” Lady Reath said, emphatically.
“Yes, really,” Lady Huntley added, in a quieter tone. “If you do not, your position in society will be thoroughly jeopardized.”
“And everyone may think that you knew about Lord Kirtland’s dishonest activities,” Lady Reath added bluntly.
Rose was taken aback by this. “Do you really think so?” she asked, beginning to be seriously worried. It was not only her reputation at stake, after all, but that of her sisters and father as well.
“Absolutely,” they said together.
“I told you, my dear, you must attend this rout,” Aunt Farmington said, adding her voice to their argument.
Rose looked from one lady to the next. But if she went... how was she to avoid St. John? Did she really want to avoid him? If she went, she might see him again.
Lady Huntley gave her a warm smile. “Do not worry, Miss Grace. We will be there with you, and between us and our husbands, no one will dare to say anything unkind to you.”
Rose returned her smile gratefully. “Thank you, my lady. You are much too kind.”
The thought of not seeing St. John ever again was unbearable. And just thinking about being with him made her heart feel so much lighter and happier. She would decide later what she would say to him—if she was given the opportunity… if he didn’t turn his back on her the way she had to him that awful, awful night when he’d tried
to warn her.
“Not really. We just care about...”
“It is no problem at all,” Lady Huntley said, interrupting Lady Reath and giving her a fierce look. “Now, first of all, you must agree to call us by our given names, and we shall call you by yours, for we are going to be fast friends before you know it.”
Rose nodded her head and laughed, feeling better already. Somehow, with the support of these two very kind ladies, she felt as if she could face nearly anything—social opprobrium and St. John.
“And secondly,” Lady Huntley — Cassandra — continued, “you must show us what you are going to wear, because, as I am certain you know, you must look magnificent to face down the ton. ”
And bowl St. John over as well, Rose couldn’t help but add to herself.
~~~~
Rose could not deny that she was nervous that evening when she entered Lady Wynworth’s party. She still hadn’t decided what to say to St. John when they met. She thought that maybe she would try to apologize, but that seemed to be too little. Of course, throwing herself at his feet would be a bit overdramatic.
She smiled at the thought, but with an edge of panic in her mind. She needed some sort of happy medium, but so far she hadn’t hit on just the right thing.
But there was one thing that Rose could deny no longer—St. John Fotheringay–Phipps had become such an integral part of her life that she could not imagine it without him. And tonight, she had to do everything and anything she could to get him back into it—even if it did mean literally throwing herself at his feet.
Rose and her aunt met Cassandra and her husband, Lord Huntley, just inside the door to Lady Wynworth’s main drawing room, as they’d arranged.
“Excellent, Rose. I knew that green gown would look stunning on you! And the new gold trim really makes you stand out,” Cassandra said, looking Rose over approvingly.
Rose swallowed nervously. “Thank you. I promise to buy you more of this wonderful trimming as soon as...”
“Pish–posh! Don’t even think about it. I told you this afternoon, I bought it on a whim and didn’t even know which dress I might sew it on to. It looks perfect on you—and I’m happy that I had something to liven up your dress. Cutting the neckline down has helped a great deal as well, just as I told you it would.”
Rose could feel her face heat when she thought about how much décolletage she was displaying this evening. However, as had been pointed out by Cassandra and Sara, it was no more than every other lady present, and a good deal less than some.
Cassandra turned to her husband, who was looking quite handsome—his black coat setting off his black hair, dark complexion and stunning bright blue–green eyes. Of course, Rose much preferred St. John’s dark blond locks and laughing blue eyes, but Lord Huntley’s looks were striking, especially when next to his fair wife.
“Rose is looking quite pretty, isn’t she, Julian?” Cassandra said.
Lord Huntley bowed. “I could not agree more, my love. Very pretty, Miss Grace, you are looking very pretty.”
Rose felt her face grow warm, but she curtsied and mumbled her thanks.
Lord Reath and his wife, Sara, joined them just then, so Rose had to endure another round of compliments and exclamations over how good the new trimming looked on her dress. If Rose didn’t know they honestly meant well, she would have thought that they were overdoing it just a little. But after having spent the afternoon with both ladies, she knew they had only the best intentions for her.
“You clearly have no need of me this evening, Rose. I shall leave you to your friends,” her aunt said, before setting off to find one of her own numerous friends.
Rose watched her go with a little trepidation. Without her aunt there to support her, she would be completely dependent on her new friends to see her through what was sure to be a difficult evening. She sincerely hoped her trust was not misplaced.
Chapter Thirty
THE group of friends proceeded further into the overcrowded room and approached the dance floor where a country dance was just forming.
“Would one of the most beautiful ladies in attendance grant me the honor of this dance?” a gentleman said, coming up just next to Rose.
She turned to see Lord Merrick bowing to her, a twinkle of mischief in his eyes.
Rose laughed and flushed once again. “La, sir, you could not be referring to me,” she said, jumping right into playing his game.
“But who else would I be speaking to?” he asked.
Rose looked to her other side, where Cassandra was standing and watching this lighthearted play. “Why, to Lady Huntley, of course,” Rose said, stepping aside so that Cassandra was closer to Lord Merrick.
He shook his head. “She is indeed one of the prettier ladies present, but I believe Julian might be tempted to call me out if I were to tell her so.”
Rose and Cassandra laughed. Lord Huntley, upon hearing his name, turned back to them to see what was going on, but Lord Merrick could not be put off so easily. Once again, he held out his hand to Rose.
“Oh yes, do dance with Merry, Rose,” Cassandra said at once. “It will do wonders for your reputation. You must be seen dancing with as many gentlemen as possible. That way, the gossips will not have so much fodder to chew on.” Rose could see her point—the more she was seen as being accepted, especially by gentlemen in as good a social position as Lord Merrick, the better it would be.
Gratefully, she took Lord Merrick’s hand and allowed him to lead her onto the dance floor. Cassandra and Lord Huntley followed them.
Rose felt as if the entire room was watching as she and Lord Merrick turned and skipped about in the dance. If it were not for his reassuring smiles and for Cassandra next to her, she was sure she would have succumbed to the temptation to run and hide in the ladies withdrawing room.
It had not been above two minutes after the dance ended that Lady Jersey approached Rose with a little smirk on her face.
“Good evening, Miss Grace. I must say, I am surprised to see you here,” she said.
“Surely you would not expect her to shut herself away because she had been deceived along with everybody else?” St. John said, strolling up to them at a leisurely pace.
Rose spun around. St. John!
Lady Jersey turned to face her opponent a polite smile hovering on her lips. “You always believe the best in everyone, Fungy.”
He gave a little bow. “Indeed, I do. Believe that you would not wish to destroy a girl’s reputation simply because she misjudged a fellow, as you did yourself, Lady Jersey. You were the one who insisted on granting him vouchers to Almack’s, were you not?”
The lady blushed a dull red. “Well, anyone can make a mistake. Why, we were all taken in by Lord Kirtland.”
“Yes, indeed, we were.” St. John turned to Rose as Lady Jersey moved on quickly.
Rose started to breathe again, not even having fully realized that she’d stopped
St. John took her hand gently in his and looked at her with genuine concern. “How are you, Rose?”
“Much better now that you are here,” she said, quietly, and then realized that she had spoken her thoughts out loud. She stole her hand back from St. John and pressed it to her now flaming cheeks.
St. John just laughed. “Can’t tell you how happy I am to hear that.”
“St. John...” Rose began. But he gave his head a quick shake as if to say, ‘not here’.
The orchestra played the introduction to a waltz. St. John held out his hand and gave her a small bow. “Would you care to dance, Miss Grace?”
“Er, oh, yes. Thank you.” Rose answered with a curtsey.
Once again, as they made their way to the dance floor, Rose felt as if every eye was on her. She was sure of it when she looked about her and saw Lady Jersey and Countess Lieven standing by the side, watching her, whispering to each other.
“Do not pay them any mind,” St. John said firmly.
She looked back at him. He was smiling and looking like he h
adn’t a care in the world—just like always.
“Perhaps if you stopped looking like a frightened deer, and instead placed a smile on your beautiful lips, it might help.”
Rose gave a little laugh. “I’m sorry.”
“No need to apologize. That’s better.” He nodded approvingly as Rose relaxed a little and tried to look as if she were enjoying herself.
It wasn’t easy. She felt as if every muscle in her body was wound tight with tension. What was she going to say to him? She had never worked it out, and now...
“Is that a new dress? It is extremely flattering,” St. John said, as he gently turned her around with the movement of the dance.
Rose wanted to hug him. He was so wonderful, talking of nothing at all just to ease her tensions.
“No, actually, it is an old dress, but altered a little and with new trimming added. Sara... Lady Reath and Lady Huntley came and helped me with it this afternoon.”
St. John nodded, a smile tugging up one corner of his mouth. “Well, it is extremely becoming. Your sister Laia should try wearing such a creation. It would enhance her coloring in a very flattering way.”
“I shall have to see about that.”
They continued to turn about the room, sharing an easy silence. The voices all around them seemed to fade away. Even Lady Jersey’s shrill voice, which was so easy to hear even from a distance, faded to nothing.
It no longer mattered to Rose what other people were saying about her. The only person she cared about was St. John.
She had to say something to him, and she had to say it now. “St. John...” Rose began again, not even entirely sure of what she was going to say.
He shook his head. “Do not even think about it, Rose. You could not have known.”
How did he know what she was thinking?
“But I didn’t even...”
“Entirely understandable,” he said.
Rose looked up at him and wondered how anyone could be so wonderful.
“You had no idea what I was doing, or why,” he continued quietly. “How could you know?”
“I should have said something.”
A Dandy in Disguise Page 18