A Truth Revealed

by Lucy Adams

“As will I,” he said, surprised when he felt himself rather reluctant to speak to her again, perhaps upset by this strange and stilted awkwardness between them. “Perhaps we shall be able to speak a little longer then.”

  “Yes,” Lady Callander said, sounding a little more eager than he had expected. “In fact, Lord Millerton, I had wondered if……” She trailed off, her brow furrowing and her gaze dropping to the ground. Her lips caught her teeth as she bit her lip, now appearing rather puzzled.

  Sebastian looked at her steadily, feeling a flicker of interest in his mind. “Yes, Lady Callander?”

  She looked up at him again, giving herself a small shake. “No, it does not matter,” she said, as though speaking to herself. “There is nothing that need concern you, Lord Millerton,” she said, clearly now deciding to keep what she had thought to say to herself. “This evening, then.”

  He bowed, touching his hat. “Yes, until this evening, Lady Callander,” he said, refusing to give in to the desire to speak to her about what it was she had been about to say and quenching his curiosity. Taking his leave of her, Sebastian let out a long breath he had not known he had been holding. With another deep breath, he continued walking along the streets of London, pushing aside all thoughts of Lady Callander and trying desperately not to think of what had occurred the last time he had seen her. The last thing he needed was to be reminded of that! Mayhap this evening, he would find a way to keep out of her way, until his mind and heart began to settle instead of returning repeatedly to the events of last Season. With a grimace, Sebastian shook his head to himself, lifting one hand to rub across his eyes as if he could erase the memory of meeting Lady Callander from his mind.

  Perhaps this evening would not be as joyful an evening as he had expected. What with Lord Chesterfield and his determination to have Sebastian’s thoughts on each and every young lady that he danced with, as well as Lady Callander’s expectation that he would seek her out for another conversation, Sebastian felt his heart sink towards his toes, his eager expectation for this evening beginning to fade away already. Perhaps returning to London had been a mistake.

  Chapter Three

  The ball was quite beautiful and Bridgette had to confess that, despite the fact that various gentlemen immediately came to seek her out for a dance— gentlemen whom she knew were seeking her out simply because she was a wealthy widow — she found herself smiling brightly as the music began for the first dance of the evening.

  Thankfully, it was a dance that she did not have to engage in, giving her a chance to collect herself, to watch the other ladies and gentlemen sweeping across the floor and allowing herself a long breath out, pushing the last of the tension away.

  She could not explain it but seeing Lord Millerton again earlier that day had sent her into a very strange flurry that she could not quite explain. Last Season, she had found herself trying to help her dear friend, Miss Hemmingway, only to discover that there was a darkness within the depths of the situation that she had not expected. Lord Millerton had been there on the evening that it had all come to an end and the terrible truth had been revealed; when she had been frantic in her efforts to find Miss Hemmingway, only to discover that Miss Hemmingway’s very life had been threatened. He had supported her then and she had found herself filled with a deep regard for him, but it was a regard that she supposed was not returned. He had left London soon afterwards and she had not heard from him since. Perhaps it had been foolish of her to simply interrupt him as he had walked along the street, but the words of greeting had left her mouth before she had been able to stop them.

  “Lady Callander, can that be you?”

  Bridgette gave a small start, hurried from her thoughts before she was ready, turning to greet none other than an old acquaintance, whom she recognized from the previous Season. “Lady Madeline!” she exclaimed, greeting the lady warmly. “How good to see you again!”

  Lady Madeline was the daughter of the Earl of Hamilton and, as such, was very much pursued by the gentlemen of the ton, even though the Earl was involved in shipping and trading rather than by more respectable means. They did not share a close acquaintance but Bridgette had to admit that she felt herself rather grateful that Lady Madeline had come to speak to her this evening. They were only a few years apart in age, for Bridgette had been married almost as soon as she had entered London.

  “I confess that I am rather weary already and the ball has only just begun!” Lady Madeline replied, with a chuckle. “My father thinks I am being most ungrateful, of course, as though I ought to be glad for every modicum of attention that the gentlemen of London throw at me, but I confess that I am growing rather tired of it.”

  Bridgette laughed, shaking her head ruefully. “That is my feeling also,” she said, with a sigh. “But then again, I have no need to marry again, given that my husband made certain that I would have enough to live comfortably for the rest of my days.” She tipped her head, taking in Lady Madeline, with her raven hair and flashing green eyes that glittered like emeralds. Bridgette felt rather dull in comparison. “Surely you will have to marry soon?”

  Lady Madeline sighed, folding her arms across her chest and giving every appearance of someone rather troubled with what was being asked of her. “My father insists on encouraging me to do so but I confess that I have no eagerness to step forward into matrimony as yet,” she said, with a shrug. “The gentlemen who pursue me do not care anything for me, but rather for the dowry that will come to them if I was to marry.” She rolled her eyes, behaving in what Bridgette considered to be a less than proper manner — although that was, she considered, a little refreshing. It was rather nice to hear the lady speak of such things with complete honesty instead of pretending that all was just as she hoped for. After a moment, she also noted that there appeared to be no companion nor parent with Lady Madeline. Was that because she refused such a thing? Or was it because she had slipped away, unwilling to remain fixed within the bounds of propriety?

  Seeing Lady Madeline’s searching gaze, Bridgette felt a small flush warm her cheeks, spreading her hands as she began to speak. “I am also in such a position,” she admitted, honestly, wondering if a camaraderie could be struck up between them. “Being a wealthy widow means that gentlemen are eager to make my acquaintance, but not for the reasons I might hope!”

  Lady Madeline put a gentle hand on Bridgette’s shoulder. “They are the ones who are failing, Lady Callander, not you,” she said, firmly. “If they do not want to make your acquaintance in order that they might know you a little better, then that is their own foolishness.”

  Bridgette smiled at her and after a moment, Lady Madeline graced her back with a smile of her own.

  “Mayhap we ought to assist each other,” she said, hopefully. “I will admit that I am a little alone this Season, for whilst my very dear friend, Lady Franks, is to be present this Season, I have not yet seen her and certainly, she will be very eager to spend time with her husband, of course.”

  “Of course,” Lady Madeline agreed, looking a little puzzled.

  “Therefore, given that we are both facing the same struggles within society, mayhap we might warn each other as to which gentlemen ought to be refused without question,” Bridgette continued, seeing the way that Lady Madeline’s eyes lit up almost immediately. “And, if there is ever some interest from a particular gentleman, the other will assess his attributes also and mayhap quietly prod about to see if there is any kind of gossip that might then add a little more knowledge of the fellow.”

  Lady Madeline considered this for a moment, her lips bunching together as she looked back steadily at Bridgette. Bridgette herself felt her cheeks warm a little more, clearing her throat and fearing that she had already overstepped, having suggested something to Lady Madeline that she might find more than a little improper.

  “That is a wonderful idea!”

  Immediately, Bridgette’s heart flew into a quickened rhythm, relieved that Lady Madeline had not immediately refused her or laughed at her
suggestion.

  “I admit that most of my acquaintances think I am quite foolish for behaving so, and tell me that I ought to be seeking out a husband, just as my father has suggested,” Lady Madeline continued, “and whilst I hope that I can have one more Season without being forced towards courtship and engagement, it would be good to have someone coming alongside me in the very fashion you have suggested.” Her hand reached out and caught Bridgette’s, squeezing her fingers tightly. “I am sure we shall become very dear friends, Lady Callander.”

  “Bridgette, please,” Bridgette replied, as Lady Madeline smiled all the more brightly. “If we are to become very good friends, as you say, then I think it only proper for you to address me so.”

  “How wonderful!” Lady Madeline exclaimed, her eyes shining. “Then let us begin this very evening!” Her eyes darted to something behind Bridgette’s shoulder, her smile fading slightly. “There is a gentleman approaching you already, Lady Callander — I mean, Bridgette.” Her lips quirked but her eyes remained on the approaching gentleman. “I do not think I am acquainted with him.”

  Bridgette caught her breath, wondering if it was to be Lord Millerton. Her hand pressed lightly against her stomach, wondering at the strange sensation of butterflies fluttering their wings gently, merely at the thought of him. Was she anxious about what he thought of her, given their earlier conversation? Or was there something about being in his company again that sent a thrill of excitement straight through her?

  Turning slightly, she smiled at Lady Madeline, who finally dragged her gaze back to Bridgette’s face. They said nothing to each other, the conversation of other guests floating about them as they each awaited the arrival of this gentleman.

  “Lady Madeline!”

  Bridgette blinked in astonishment, turning slowly to see a gentlemen she did not recognize bowing low in front of Lady Madeline. Lady Madeline also appeared rather astonished, with her eyes wide with surprise. When the gentleman rose from his bow, they both curtsied at once, with Bridgette surprised at the disappointment that crested up within her like a wave that it was not Lord Millerton as she had thought.

  “Lord…..Lord Chesterfield?”

  Lady Madeline’s voice held a good deal of puzzlement, making Bridgette smile inwardly. The lady clearly had no qualms about making it apparent that she wasn’t sure whether or not she had the right name for the gentleman, although she could see from the way that his smile faded at the edge that he was a little displeased with the fact that she did not immediately recall him.

  “Yes, Lady Madeline,” he said, dipping his head again. “You are quite correct.”

  “I see.” Lady Madeline gave him an assessing gaze, letting her eyes rove up and down as she took him in. “You have come to London for the Season, then?”

  “I have,” Lord Chesterfield replied, his grey eyes glancing towards Bridgette, to whom he had not yet been introduced. “Although this is not my first ball of the Season.”

  Lady Madeline laughed. “Nor is it mine,” she replied, with a small shrug. “Ah, might I also introduce you to a very dear friend of mine?” She turned towards Bridgette with a warm smile, which Bridgette returned, even though she herself would not have suggested that she and Lady Madeline were ‘very dear friends’.

  “Viscount Chesterfield,” Lady Madeline continued, with a wave of her hand. “And, Lord Chesterfield, might I present Lady Callander, Countess to the late Earl of Callander.”

  The gentleman’s eyes flared with recognition for a moment, before he swept into another bow which, of course, Bridgette had no other choice but to return.

  “How very good to meet you,” she said, as warmly as she could and praying that he would not ask her any questions about her late husband. “Are you enjoying the ball this evening?”

  Lord Chesterfield cleared his throat and finally bestowed a small smile upon her. “I am, of course,” he said, still looking at her with those firm, grey eyes of his. “And you?”

  Bridgette smiled and thanked him, saying that she had not been here long but that she was sure it would be an excellent evening. Lady Madeline began to speak at length about all that had occurred thus far, including her sighing over a dance that was soon to come upon her, where she would have to step out with a gentleman named Lord Lowenstein, who had dogged her heels at almost every social occasion she had attended thus far. Whilst she was speaking, Bridgette took the opportunity to take in this new acquaintance, seeing how he practically hung onto every word that came from Lady Madeline’s mouth. He was not unhandsome, with brown hair that was neatly swept to one side of his forehead, a square jaw but kindness in his grey eyes. She did not know anything about him, of course, and certainly could not say whether or not he was of decent character, but it appeared that he was eager to spend a little more time in Lady Madeline’s company.

  “And will you furnish me with your dance card, Lady Callander?”

  Bridgette looked down and pulled off her dance card from her wrist at once, handing it to Lord Chesterfield and praying that he had not noticed her slight absence of attention. Lady Madeline laughed as he pored over Bridgette’s dance card.

  “I fear that you may have to take the less favorable dances, Lord Chesterfield,” Lady Madeline said sharply. “Lady Callander is often in demand and has already been sought out by a good many gentlemen.”

  Blushing at this remark, Bridgette wisely chose to remain silent, wishing that Lady Madeline had not said anything. She did not want to appear to be something she was not. She was not a diamond of the first water, nor was she someone that ought to be recognized and pursued simply because of her character. The truth was, people were only interested in her because of what she might be willing to do for them, not because she was of any particular interest.

  “You must not listen to Lady Madeline,” she said, a little flustered. “Have you written down your name on her dance card also, Lord Chesterfield? I am sure she would be more than glad to dance with you.” She smiled up at him as he handed her back her dance card, seeing the flicker of hope in his eyes as he turned towards Lady Madeline, who now had something of an arrested look on her face.

  “I would like to have at least one dance, if I may,” he said to Lady Madeline who, after a moment, pulled off the dance card from her wrist and dangled it out towards Lord Chesterfield, like a child teasing a cat with a piece of string.

  Lord Chesterfield took it without hesitation and then eagerly wrote his name down in two separate places. Lady Madeline did not look particularly pleased at this, her brow wrinkling as she accepted her card back from him.

  “I should go in search of Miss Taylor,” Lord Chesterfield said, bowing low, “for I am to do the country dance with her and it is to begin very shortly.” He smiled at Bridgette and then turned his gaze towards Lady Madeline. “I look forward to our dances together, Lady Callander, Lady Madeline.”

  Bridgette smiled. “I thank you,” she said quietly, thinking to herself that this gentleman appeared to be quite unobtrusive, unwilling to push himself forward and demand her attentions. He was clearly quite interested in Lady Madeline, however, even though the lady herself did not appear to notice it.

  “Goodness,” Lady Madeline huffed, crossing her arms in front of her chest again. “I thought I might be able to escape his company but it seems I cannot.”

  Surprised, Bridgette turned to her. “But why would you do so, Lady Madeline?” she asked, a little confused. “Is there something about Lord Chesterfield that you do not like? Has he done something to upset you in some way? Or is there gossip that I am entirely unaware of?” She grimaced. “I am afraid I know very little in that regard.”

  Lady Madeline sighed and turned her head to look after him for a moment. “No, there is nothing about him that is particularly odious, I will admit to that,” she said, still looking rather irritated. “He is something of a flirt, which I know a good many gentlemen are, but there is something about his manner, his confidence in himself that infuriates me.”

/>   “I can see that,” Bridgette remarked, quietly. “But it is clear that he wishes to be in your company this evening.” A knowing smile caught her lips. “It was not I he wished to speak to, but rather, to you.”

  For a moment, Lady Madeline said nothing, her expression one of consideration. And then, she threw up her hands and blew out a breath, propping her hands on her hips.

  “Regardless, I must prepare myself for the next dance,” she said, looking towards Bridgette. “Do you have a gentleman attending you?”

  Glancing down at her dance card, Bridgette noted the name there.

  “Yes,” she said, with a small sigh of her own. “Lord Cambleton, the baron from Scotland.” Wincing, her shoulders slumped. “He is new to London, apparently, and I spoke to Miss Winchester recently, who told me that her feet were still bruised from where he trod all over them!”

  “Then mayhap I can cut in.”

  Bridgette turned around sharply, looking into the face of Lord Millerton. His hazel eyes swirled with questions, as though he feared she would refuse him. His dark hair was brushed to one side, although a little flopped forward over his forehead as he inclined his head, before smiling in Lady Madeline’s direction. “Do excuse me for interrupting you.”

  Bridgette quickly made the introductions, aware of the slow flush of heat that began to climb up her spine as she looked back at him, wondering at what he had been doing in standing so close to her as to overhear her conversation.

  “Lord Cambleton is, I fear, a little overcome already,” Lord Millerton continued, with a small smile. “I am sure he will not mind if I take his place, although…” Trailing off, his eyes drifted to her dance card. “Might I enquire as to whether or not you have any further dances which require a partner?”

  She did not answer him but rather slipped off her dance card and handed it to him, aware of just how warm her cheeks were. Lady Madeline was looking at her with an arched eyebrow, her lip curling just a little. Bridgette did not say a word, waiting until Lord Millerton had written his name where he wished it and then returning it to her.