Thomas sat on the back pew for another half an hour, then bowed his head in another supplication to the heavens. He did not have the means or the interest to stay in London much longer, but he hated the feeling of returning home with his tail between his legs.
As much as you deserve, he scolded himself. He quickly attempted to think beyond his self-judgment. How do I fix this?
No answer came, and he returned to his rooms, thinking of the upcoming evening’s entertainment—a ball at Carlton House. It was an honor to be attending as Fenton’s guest, but he would have to pretend his way through it to not be a pall on the frivolity. The very idea was wearying. Following the ball, Fenton would likely encourage him to return to the gaming hells and try to win some of his purse back, but the thought was beyond consideration. Thomas would never step inside those halls again, which meant Fenton would likely no longer be Thomas’s escort around town. He could not expect Fenton to avoid such pleasure simply on account of Thomas’s regret. Would Thomas present himself at entertainments alone? Would he be turned away from the higher-level events if he showed without Fenton’s recommendation? Thomas hated how small he felt, how out of place.
Unable to find any other remedy, Thomas penned a letter to his solicitor requesting additional funds. His neck was still hot with embarrassment as he mailed the letter to Yorkshire. That Albert would find it all very diverting did not give Thomas any peace of mind. He did not like the changes this town was making upon him, and as he readied himself for the evening, he questioned again why he was there at all and why he had come to London for a wife he hoped would never want to return to the city.
Chapter 12
Suzanne helped Amber to dress in a crepe evening gown a rather daring shade of green for a debutante. That Amber had not yet worn it increased her excitement regarding the notice she would surely attract. Suzanne added a diamond and pearl necklace that was to become Amber’s upon marriage and four pearl bracelets that added a feeling of refinement to the ensemble.
It was a relief to have Suzanne start on the binding for her head, hiding the gruesome sight from Amber’s view in the looking glass. The wrapping had to be pulled as tightly as possible so as not to be easily displaced over the course of the evening, but Amber asked for a bit more ease tonight. She would be wearing it for hours and did not want a headache as frightful as the one she had after yesterday’s tea. Once the binding was in place, the wig was pinned to it, creating the bond to her head that allowed her to move freely rather than carefully looking this way and that for fear of upsetting the piece.
Suzanne was proficient in how to style and arrange the wig to its best representation, freeing Amber’s thoughts to consider the evening before her. All of Amber’s suitors would be at the ball, and she was committed to make a decision tonight. Lord Sunther was her first choice; he would therefore be the focus of her attention.
Though position itself was no longer her chief objective, she did not want to give up on the possibility of an arrangement with the most eligible bachelor of the season. More, she felt Lord Sunther was the kind of man who could come to love her despite all the complications he would unknowingly be presented with in having her for a wife.
“How is it, Miss?” Suzanne said.
Amber looked up as she turned her head to inspect the arrangement. As tonight’s event was at the Prince Regent’s opulent residence, it was among the most formal events of the season, and Amber had told Suzanne to be additionally attentive.
Suzanne had left one long curl of the dark hair to hang over Amber’s shoulder. The rest of the hair had been braided with ribbon the same color as the gown and then wrapped and pinned to give the appearance of a crown of sorts, into which Suzanne had threaded the white flowers with diamond centers. The only concern Amber had with the style was if showing so much hair might draw attention to the change in color. But surely she could repeat the story of a rinse to those who had not yet heard it.
“It will do,” Amber said, though she continued to inspect the intricacies of the style. Did it look like a wig? she wondered. Her concern served to further convince her of the importance of tonight’s ball. She would increase her attention to Lord Sunther and have an official proposal by the end of the week, if not the end of the night. Any one of her other suitors would be overjoyed at such a prospect; surely he would be as well once she convinced him of her interest.
As Suzanne replaced the dressing cape from Amber’s shoulders with a white cashmere shawl draped at her elbows, Amber filled her stores of confidence for the evening ahead. It was imperative that she have absolute assurance—tonight would be a night she would never forget.
By the time Amber, Darra, and their parents arrived at Carlton House, it was already crowded. Lord and Lady Marchent made the appropriate rounds of greetings and gave a few introductions to people Darra and Amber did not know. Amber kept a close eye out for her suitors, casting them a smile when they met her eye, but she was eager to see Lord Sunther most of all, and he was the one she did not find amid the crowds.
It was some time before Lady Marchent and her daughters found themselves at the edge of the dance floor, showing that the girls were ready to dance. Lord Marchent had already disappeared into a card room with a group of gentlemen. Amber did not expect to see him again until it was time to leave, assuming he didn’t leave in a hired carriage for other entertainments.
Mr. Harrington approached Amber before she’d even had a chance to assess the couples already on the floor. He greeted Darra and their mother before turning his eager attention to Amber. “You are pretty as a picture tonight, Miss Sterlington,” he said as he bowed over her hand. “I am glad that you are recovered from your illness. Society was quite dimmed by your absence.”
“Why, thank you, Mr. Harrington,” she said with a wide smile. “I so worried this color might be too daring.” She swished her skirts while looking at him from beneath her lashes. The neckline was the most daring aspect of the gown, and she felt sure he noted it while appearing to inspect the color of the dress.
“Forever not!” he said as though offended by the prospect. “It enhances your beauty to the height of all things charming and . . . and beautiful.”
Amber smiled and ducked as though modestly embarrassed by his stumbling flattery. “My mind is very much put at ease by your compliments, Mr. Harrington. Thank you for being ever so kind.”
“Of course,” he said, dipping his head slightly. “Would you join me in the next set?” His eyes were bright with anticipation.
“Most certainly,” Amber said, wishing she had checked the order of dances for the night. She hoped to waltz with Lord Sunther and did not want to waste the opportunity on Mr. Harrington though she had yet to see the former.
“Wonderful! Shall I fetch you a drink in the meantime? Prinny has put out his very best champagne this evening, truly delightful.”
“I would love a glass of champagne before the next set, thank you, Mr. Harrington.”
“Very good,” he said with another quick bow. With a click of his heels, he was off to the refreshment table in another room. Amber watched him go. Could he be the husband she needed him to be if Lord Sunther did not rise to the occasion? He often proclaimed of her beauty, and she worried at his reaction when he realized that all was not as it appeared to be. She bit her lip as she watched his retreating back.
“Miss Sterlington,” a voice said, drawing her eye up to see Lord Sunther’s. By the time Amber recovered herself from the surprise of seeing him so suddenly, he had already turned to look at Darra. “Miss Darra.”
The sisters offered the proper curtsy at precisely the same moment. When Amber raised her head, Lord Sunther’s eyes were still on her sister. Darra looked back at him, a soft smile on her face and a new light in her eyes. In the space of a moment Amber understood the conversation she’d overheard between Darra and their mother the day before. “He prefers me,” Darra had said. “He” was Lord Sunther—there could be no mistake of it, and the knowledg
e filled her chest with fire. How dare her younger sister pursue a man who only knew of Darra’s existence because of Amber’s reputation.
“You look dashing tonight,” Amber said before Darra could speak, determined to undo whatever charm Darra had cast upon him. “I do love that waistcoat.”
He looked at his simple gold waistcoat and his ears colored slightly beneath her compliment.
“Amber will be dancing with Mr. Harrington for the next set,” Darra interrupted in a shocking display of forwardness. “Were you of a mind to ask for a dance, my lord?”
Amber could scarcely believe her sister’s words and was battling between apologizing on her behalf or laughing it off as an ill-timed joke when she looked at Lord Sunther. He was all smiles and soft looks as he stared back at Darra.
“I should most like to partner you, Miss Darra. If you are not otherwise spoken for.”
“Not at all, my lord,” she said, smiling with the same degree of eagerness Lord Sunther had in his expression.
“Your champagne?”
The far less well-appointed Mr. Harrington held out the fluted glass to Amber with his pudgy hand. Amber smiled as she accepted the refreshment, then thanked him most ardently in hopes of giving a fine display of her graciousness to both men. Beneath her façade of confidence, her heart was racing with both fury and fear.
Lord Sunther moved to Darra’s other side, and though Amber attempted to remain engaged with Mr. Harrington in conversation as they awaited the dance, she was aware of the muted exchange between Darra and Lord Sunther and how each was quite comfortable with the other. He did not know that Darra was using him as a weapon against the sister of whom she was obviously jealous and that was unfair to him in the extreme. Amber would not stand for it.
The current dance ended, and Amber set her glass down on a small table so Mr. Harrington could lead her to the floor. She lined up with the other women, Darra to her right. Before the music began, she turned to look at her sister who returned the glance with one equally assured and knowing. The sisters held one another’s eyes for a moment before facing forward once again.
They said nothing as they perfectly executed the first steps of the dance, but Amber had no doubt that Darra knew a glove had been thrown all the same.
Chapter 13
Lord Norwin arrived late, but asked Amber for the next waltz, which she accepted minutes before Lord Sunther asked Darra for the same dance. It was the couple’s third dance, and though they had both had a variety of partners in between, Lord Sunther had only asked Amber to dance once, and that after she had flirted so shamelessly she feared the invitation had come only so she would focus more on the dance than on him.
As Lord Norwin led Amber across the floor, she attempted to attend to his conversation despite keeping a sharp eye on Darra and Lord Sunther, who seemed quite amiably engaged with one another. Too amiably.
“So it would seem Lord Sunther is to be the gentleman of your attentions, then?”
Amber turned her eyes to those of Lord Norwin’s, which were decidedly out of humor. “Pardon?” she asked, unsure what she’d missed in his conversation.
“You can hardly bear to take your eyes off him,” Lord Norwin said. He did not smile nor apologize for his forward commentary. “I would like to make it clear that I will not stand in your way.”
“Oh, Lord Norwin,” Amber said, embarrassed to have been so rightly caught. “You misunderstand my notice. It is just that—”
“There is no need to explain yourself to me,” Lord Norwin said. Amber was as equally struck by his words as his tone, which, though cool, was surprisingly gentle. “My attention has been quite captured by another young woman myself, and I had wanted to be sure of my own mind by paying my attentions to you before I chose to further my situation with her. Do not feel badly for finding yourself in the same position.” He smiled, but it did not relieve her discomfort. She could not afford to lose his attentions—anyone’s attentions. “I wish you quite happy. Lord Sunther is lucky to have your distinction. It will credit him well as he rises to his title so unexpectedly settled upon him these last months.”
Amber was spared from having to reply when the last chords of the dance ended and Lord Norwin led her to the edge of the ballroom. He bowed over her hand. “Shall I assume you wish me every happiness in my own choice?” he asked, lifting his eyebrows in expectation.
Amber’s first thought was to tell him, “No.” She had not made her final decision, and the thought of him removing himself from her list of suitors left her anxious. But she was embarrassed enough at having spent their waltz looking upon another man that she took Lord Norwin’s hand and wished him, as sincerely as she could, the very happiness he requested of her.
He smiled widely, thanked her for the dance, and removed himself from her company. A few moments later he was bowing over the hand of a golden-haired woman who could scarcely contain her pleasure at his attention. From the look on Lord Norwin’s face as he led the girl to the floor, Amber had no doubt that she was the very woman of his favor.
“So it seems you have lost one.”
Amber stiffened at the sound of her mother’s voice behind her. Her mother could not have overheard the conversation she and Lord Norwin had shared during their waltz, which meant their expressions had said quite enough. Before Amber spoke, she made certain her tone and bearing was quite even. “He has grown an affection for someone else. I shan’t try to interfere with such an attachment.”
Her mother came to stand beside her, but looked upon the crowd rather than her daughter directly. She wore a gray gown that set off her features and blue eyes well without looking as though she were in mourning. Lady Marchent had always been fashionable and admired, so much the kind of woman Amber had expected to be. “You are down to two ardent suitors, then,” Lady Marchent said.
“Three.”
“Lord Sunther prefers Darra,” she said with pointed sympathy. “Surely you can see that.”
Amber could not keep the bite from her words as she turned her head sharply. “Darra well knows my feelings toward him. That she should undermine me in such a way is beyond belief.”
“You were out of society for more than a week,” Lady Marchent said.
“And she made good use of the absence of my shadow, did she not?”
“You cannot fault her,” Lady Marchent said, her voice calm but intolerant. “Nor him. Your sister is quite fine in her manners and a beauty in her own right. I wonder that anyone noticed so long as she was at your side night after night, but once you were not there, her charms were quite obvious and very highly favored.”
Amber looked at her mother, sorrow and jealousy and confusion milling about in her head. “Did she not come to London as my companion? Is she not to have another season next year without me?”
Lady Marchent met Amber’s eyes for the first time in their conversation. “We had many plans for this season that have changed, my dear.” The softness in her words made Amber nervous, as though they were a prelude to something decidedly unpleasant. “And we have all faced changes of circumstance. I shall not expect Darra to be your attendant any more than I shall expect you to procure the type of man you initially sought for. It would be in everyone’s best interest if you made quick work of procuring a satisfying arrangement and let Darra stay her course.”
Amber considered the words, the truth and the coldness of them. “You feel I should allow her to pursue Lord Sunther?”
“They have an affection for one another,” Lady Marchent said. “Many couples would wish for as good a start. Did you not just tell me that you would not stand in the way of Lord Norwin’s attachment? You can give the same consideration to your sister.”
“Lord Sunther is the most eligible man in all of London, Mama. For Darra to secure his interests would mean that I would end in a position below her. I am still the eldest sister. Do you not feel bound by the expectation that I marry first and of the higher level?”
“You are in need of
a match, and in such cases as this it is not to be expected that you supersede the future station of your sister.” Her words were beginning to snap upon the edges, showing the fullness of her feelings. “I will accept whatever censure the ton may direct in exchange for the relief of you making an arrangement and retiring from London so as to recover from your condition outside the glare of society.”
An acquaintance approached, and Lady Marchent’s expression changed to one of welcome as she began to converse with her friend. After a moment, the two matrons removed from the edge of the dance floor, leaving Amber to stew over her mother’s words alone.
No one had asked her to dance this set and the awkwardness she felt added to her enflamed nerves. That her mother expected Amber’s condition to change her entire future was upsetting. And unfair. Amber had been groomed for this, taught and positioned to set the level. But it seemed that Amber was the only person who thought herself still capable of such a match. Which meant she was the only person to change the mind of everyone who doubted her abilities.
It took nearly an hour before Lord Sunther asked Amber to dance a second time. He had danced a fourth with Darra by then, and even Lady Marchent had shared her disapproval at the impropriety of such behavior; there would be no more dances between them tonight.
Lord Sunther and Amber were set opposite for a quadrille and each time they met up, Amber asked him a question about his family or what he liked best about London, desperately seeking some common topic of discussion she could use to get his attention. She was well studied in literature, history, and music and felt eager to make him mindful of her education as he was an intellect himself. He was polite in his short replies, and Amber knew she needed to make more of an impression.
When the dance finished and Lord Sunther was leading Amber back to the edge of the room, she pulled on his arm and pointed toward an elaborate stairway leading off the ballroom. “I believe the statue room is located up those stairs. Would you escort me to see Prinny’s collection?” She turned her face toward him expectantly.
A Heart Revealed Page 9