by Rebecca King
“Already onto it,” Brampton replied, and handed both ladies a glass of Ratafia. “I understand your friend, Lady van Debere, is waiting to meet with you,” he murmured to Adelaide. He bowed over Ursula’s hand and looked straight into her eyes. “I take it you have enjoyed the flowers?”
“They were from you?” she gasped in astonishment.
Brampton hesitated. “Pardon?”
Ursula froze and wondered if she had misheard him. “Flowers?” she asked awkwardly.
“On the Ladies’ Mile,” Brampton prompted. “I take it you managed to walk the mile the other day?”
Somewhat disappointed, Ursula heaved a sigh. “We didn’t get that far, I am afraid.”
“Maybe next time,” Brampton smiled. Ignoring Trenton, who was glowering at him in disgust, he nodded toward the dance card dangling from Ursula’s wrist. “I should be obliged if you would consider dancing with me this evening?”
Ursula threw Adelaide a cautious glance. She knew her aunt wanted to object but, before she could do so, Brampton had written his name against two dances.
Trenton shifted and made a note to speak with the man the first chance he got. “Isn’t that Lady Abbey over there?” he drawled, aware that Lady Abbey was Brampton’s current lover. The furtive look Brampton threw him assured Trenton that his suspicions were not unfounded. Trenton lifted his brows. “I am sure she would be delighted to make your acquaintance – again,” he drawled.
“I think I saw your fiancé over by the stairs a while ago,” Brampton countered. “I am sure she will be looking for you about now.”
Trenton opened his mouth to put the record straight but, before he could say anything, Adelaide began to tug Ursula over to her friends.
“Please excuse us. I see an acquaintance I must speak to,” she murmured absently while scanning the crowd.
Ursula found herself across the room before she got the chance to even look at either Brampton or Trenton again. Just the mention of Trenton’s fiancé being present at the ball filled her with curiosity and dread at the same time. It was bad enough knowing that the object of her childhood affections was engaged. To have to witness them together right here, this evening, made her want to leave.
To her surprise, as soon as Adelaide joined her friends, Ursula realised that Trenton had followed them across the room. She jumped when he stopped directly in front of her and stared at her challengingly.
“Flowers?” Trenton demanded with a frown.
Her spine straightened at the way he was glaring at her as though she had done something wrong. “I have received an arrangement of flowers from a secret admirer; several arrangements, in fact. What of it?”
“You think Brampton is the sender?” Trenton demanded incredulously. He tried to keep his voice low for fear of starting nefarious gossip, but it was damned difficult. Right now he wanted to shake the details out of her and kiss that aloof expression off her face.
If he was honest, he was not just angry at Brampton. He was annoyed that Barbarella had dared to turn up tonight. He had hoped she would have the dignity to keep her head down for a while. Given that she had ignored her father and chosen to attend the ball anyway, it was down to him now to ensure that Ursula didn’t cross paths with the wretched witch. In addition to that, Brampton was sniffing around Ursula. It made him want to punch the man right on the nose, warn Barbarella to keep her distance, and march Ursula straight home.
“Are you sure they were from Brampton?” he demanded, mainly because Brampton hadn’t been known to go to any expense on a woman before. A man like him took; he rarely gave. It made no sense that he had gone to such lengths for Ursula; unless he wanted something from her. The thought of that annoyed the hell out of him and made his voice far sharper than he intended when he spoke to Ursula.
“I-I don’t know. There was no name attached.”
“When did you receive them?” Trenton knew it was none of his business, and his relentless pursuit of the facts had drawn the curious stares of Adelaide and her friends, but he didn’t care. He had to get to the truth before matters went any further.
“They started to arrive the other week, why?”
“Started to arrive? Am I to take it that there have been more of them since then?”
“Why? Do I take it that some sort of crime has been committed?” Ursula asked instead of answering him.
“No, it is just uncharacteristic behaviour for Brampton. If someone sends flowers for over a week and doesn’t make their acquaintance, something is wrong somewhere,” he warned. He wondered if he would be better off carting Brampton around the back and punching him until he admitted sending them.
“What could be wrong with someone sending me flowers?”
“Just be careful about receiving gifts from strangers, Ursula. This is London after all. It is full of disreputable types who shouldn’t be trusted.”
“Does that include you?” she asked before she realised how offensive that sounded.
Rather than reply, he studied her thoughtfully a moment. He was spared having to speak past his temper by the arrival of a rather buxom blonde. As she pressed herself wantonly against Trenton’s side, she speared Ursula with a look that could have frozen her on the spot and then turned her rather sultry attention back to Trenton.
“Trenton, I have been looking for you everywhere,” she breathed into his ear without bothering to acknowledge Ursula. “It’s been too long darling.”
Trenton mentally cursed at the avid curiosity written on Barbarella’s face. The last thing he needed was to have to contend with Barbarella’s scheming. From the way her hand was sliding suggestively down his arm, she was still determined to try to lure him into matrimony. Last year, he had been drunk and had barely escaped her plot to entrap him. This year, he had no intention of succumbing to her continued dramatic machinations now that matters had been worked out with her father.
“Miss Somersby,” he growled with a glare. He peeled Barbarella’s questing fingers off his arm and took a step backward as he dropped her hand. “I didn’t realise you were here.”
Ursula studied the way the newcomer had plastered herself against Trenton and felt something deep within her crumble. This beautiful young woman was Trenton’s fiancée.
She studied the woman’s perfect, porcelain features and slender curves and felt a pang of jealousy that temporarily robbed her of breath. The woman was stunning, and right now was plastered against Trenton’s side as though she was made to be there. In contrast to the delightful creature, Ursula felt dowdy, plain and completely out of place.
She didn’t dare look too closely at what drove the emotion, but Ursula suddenly hated Barbarella Somersby with all of her heart. It was such an uncharacteristic feeling for her: to hate someone on sight, that she was a little shaken by it. However, there was something cold and calculating in the blonde woman’s eyes that just didn’t seem right, and brought about a fresh wave of discomfort over her engagement to Trenton. A part of her wanted to tear Trenton away from the woman, but she couldn’t without making herself look like a fool. They were engaged after all, and it really was none of her business.
Unsure what to do, Ursula looked at Adelaide but to her astonishment, before she could move to her aunt’s side, Trenton blocked her path.
“I think it is our dance, Ursula,” he murmured in a husky voice that Ursula had never heard before.
The contrast in his voice between the way he spoke to Barbarella, and the way he had just spoken to her was shocking. Ursula glanced at Trenton and then looked at Barbarella. For an engaged couple they didn’t appear to be very affectionate. Unless her eyes were deceiving her, Trenton almost appeared as though he hated his fiancé.
“Ready?” He drawled and held his elbow out when she didn’t move. “It’s our dance.”
A shiver swept down her spine at the blatantly intimate way he was looking at her. It hinted at a much more personal relationship between them than they had.
“Is it?” she cro
aked, wishing she hadn’t agreed to come to the ball at all now. She looked up when the blonde stepped in front of them, and went cold at the venomous hatred in the woman’s green eyes.
“Are you not going to introduce us, Trenton?” Barbarella asked without taking her spiteful gaze off Ursula.
Trenton frowned at Barbarella. The last thing he wanted was for the two women to become acquainted. Unfortunately, he knew Barbarella well enough to know that if he snubbed her she would make sure she found out as much about Ursula as she could. Not only that, but she would undoubtedly turn her malice on Ursula just to annoy him, and that was something he wasn’t prepared to allow to happen.
“Miss Proctor, this is Miss Somersby. Miss Somersby, this is Lady Enderby’s niece.” He hoped the mention of Lady Enderby would be more than enough to warn Barbarella that Ursula was connected. To his disgust, Barbarella either wasn’t bothered, or was too ignorant to understand Lady Enderby’s social status.
“I take it you are new to London?” Barbarella asked, eyeing Ursula’s gown spitefully.
Ursula’s chin went up, and she lifted a condescending brow.
Sensing trouble, Trenton held his arm out to Ursula. “Time to dance,” he murmured, grateful that the orchestra had just given the signal they were about to play.
As soon as Ursula had taken his arm, he turned toward Barbarella. “I suggest you find your father. Tell him that I wish to speak with him,” he declared in a voice that was as cold and hard as the look in his eyes. “There are several things I need to remind him of.”
They both knew that Barbarella treated her father very differently to the rest of society. He believed his darling daughter to be mild-mannered, well-spoken, with impeccable behaviour acceptable within all social occasions. Everyone else knew she was a spiteful wanton desperate to ensnare herself a husband; someone who could be merciless if thwarted. Her reputation amongst the gossips put her very much in league with Brampton, and it wasn’t undeserved.
He turned to Ursula. “Allow me.” He led her toward the dance floor without a backward look.
Ursula followed him but before she could ask him what that had been all about, the cotillion began and prevented any conversation between them.
“Please be careful this evening, Ursula,” Trenton murmured once he had returned her to her aunt’s side.
“I have no intention of doing anything rash,” Ursula asked. She wondered if he was going to follow her all evening to make sure she didn’t get into trouble. While a part of her was inwardly thrilled at being the focus of his attention, another part of her was starting to wonder whether he thought her completely incapable of taking care of herself.
“I will see you later,” he murmured with a bow.
Ursula watched him disappear into the crowd and then dropped into the seat beside her aunt.
“That should set tongues wagging,” Adelaide declared ruefully.
“What?”
“Nothing.”
“Miss?” A footman’s voice beside her suddenly snapped her out of her revere. “I was instructed to give this to you.”
Ursula hesitantly took the small piece of parchment he held out to her. “Who by?” she asked as she glanced about them, but couldn’t see anybody familiar.
“The gentleman over there, miss.” The footman nodded to the far corner of the room but, before she could ask him to point to the sender, he disappeared.
She studied the note in her hand for a moment and wondered whether to ignore it. However, curiosity forced her to put her drink on the table beside her and open it.
Meet me in the conservatory in half an hour. I need to speak with you. I will be waiting.
She glanced up and scanned the crowd but still couldn’t see anybody she knew. Her heart raced wildly as she considered Trenton’s last words to her. He said he would see her later. Was this what he had meant? Why hadn’t he signed the note though?
Her thoughts immediately turned toward the flowers. Was the note from her secret admirer? She studied the handwriting but was fairly certain it was not the same as the writing on the cards.
What should she do? Should she go? She glanced at Adelaide. Would she be able to get away from her aunt long enough to at least go and see who it was? She didn’t have to talk to them, just take a look. That led her to think about what she would do if the note wasn’t from Trenton? It would be far safer for her to remain where she was but, if she did that she might never know who had sent her the flowers.
As the minutes ticked by her curiosity grew. Twenty minutes later she just knew she couldn’t ignore it. She had to find out who had sent her the note and the flowers, and wouldn’t settle until she did. If it wasn’t Trenton then she would have to let the secret admirer know that their attentions weren’t welcome.
If it was Trenton – well, she would just have to deal with that situation when it arose.
“We are going to the ladies’ retiring room, Ursula,” Adelaide declared as she stood. “Come along.”
Unsure what to do, Ursula followed. As they crossed the hallway, she glanced at the corridor that led to the back of the house and the conservatory. Trenton’s words of caution rang in her ears. He was right to advise her to be careful. She would be a fool to answer the summons. She could get into all sorts of trouble that could embarrass not only herself, but Adelaide as well. After all, her admirer could be that Sinnerton fellow. Just the thought of being caught alone with him left her feeling nauseous. Not even her connections to Trenton, or Adelaide could save her from a scandal of that magnitude. She would be forced to return to Yorkshire, with shame as her new best friend.
Decision made, she scrunched the note up and tucked it into her reticule to be forgotten for the time being. She was confident she had made the right decision too. Right up until the moment she saw Trenton talking to a luscious, dark haired woman, who was smiling up at him in a rather intimate manner that reminded her of Barbarella. A flurry of hurt swept through her at the way he smiled down at the woman in his arms. Did the man have a mistress as well as a fiancé? The woman in his arms was all too familiar with him as well.
That thought brought a sharp sting of tears to her eyes that she hurriedly blinked away. Engaged or not, he was relishing having such a delectable beauty to himself. Even in the middle of the main hallway, their connection was familiar enough to assure her that they were close friends; very close friends.
Her fingers clenched around the piece of parchment in her hand as her disappointment grew. The note hadn’t come from Trenton. Not if the way he was looking at the woman leaning against his chest was anything to go by. She studied them for a moment and then turned her attention to the people lingering in the hallway. Trenton and the woman’s scandalous behaviour had drawn only a few interested glances, but no outrage or condemnation. It was as though people were used to seeing them together.
Again, another flurry of hurt swept through her and she resolved, right there and then, never to think about Trenton as anything other than a mere acquaintance ever again. Now that she came to think about it, it was ridiculous to consider, even for one moment, that Trenton had been the one to send her the flowers. What she had said to Adelaide the other day was right. He had lived on her doorstep all of her life and had never given her a second glance. It made no sense that he should do so now, especially now he was engaged, and apparently had a mistress too. Ursula eyed the delectable beauty whispering so beguilingly at him, and felt another pang of jealousy sweep through her as she quite pointedly turned away, and resolved not to look at them again.
“I will be with you in a moment,” Ursula declared suddenly as they approached the ladies’ powder room. She ducked inside before her aunt could reply, and took a moment to tuck a few strands of hair back into place while she waited for Adelaide to find her way to the retiring room.
Minutes later, assured that enough time had passed for her aunt to be out of the way, she hurried out of the room. Once out in the corridor, rather than make her way to the
ladies’ retiring room too, Ursula headed toward the back of the house where the conservatory was located.
Trenton tried to prise Serena’s questing hands off his chest and shook his head in disgust. The smell of alcohol on her breath warned him she was already in her cups even though the evening was still young. He glanced up in search of his friend Hugo. He needed to get Hugo to take his sister home.
A dark scowl settled on his face when he spied Ursula disappearing into a darkened side corridor that led to the back of the house. The furtive way she glanced around the hall before she headed away from the guests brought forth a blistering curse that made the woman in his arms snigger.
“I say, Trenton, should you be using language like that here?” Serena slurred.
Trenton caught the hostess’ eye, and heaved a sigh of relief when she immediately beckoned to a footman. Once Serena had been taken away to sleep off her stupor, Trenton turned his attention to finding the most important woman in attendance: Ursula.
His anger grew as he followed her toward the private quarters at the rear of the house. Unless his imagination as running away with him, she appeared to be going to meet someone. Determined to thwart whatever was plans she had, he marched forward and slipped into the darkness of the conservatory behind her before the door closed.
“What do you think you are doing?” he growled as he closed the door behind him and leaned against it, effectively blocking her exit.
Ursula squealed and spun around so quickly that she became unbalanced. Trenton hauled her against his chest before she could fall, and pinned her there with a vice-like grip that warned her she was going nowhere until he had some answers. Their eyes met and held. Before she could push him away, his head began to lower toward hers. Her breath hitched when he paused for a moment. His eyes searched hers as though he was looking for something. There was nothing she could do except wait to see what he was going to do. Her heart hammered in her throat as, after that brief moment of hesitation, his head began to lower again.