‘Bones creaking and complaining,’ Charles replied cheerfully.
‘You have become too accustomed to the heat of foreign climes and the cold is getting to you, my friend.’
‘You could well be right. Perhaps it’s time to retire and grow vegetables instead.’
Jake barked a laugh. ‘You would be bored rigid inside a month.’
Charles grinned. ‘Very likely.’
‘I can’t decide whether this damned fog will be more of a hindrance or a help to our plans,’ Jake said after a short pause.
Charles was prevented from responding by the arrival of the ladies. Olivia looked ravishing in sparkling yellow silk, edged with flamboyant lace and with a bodice cut daringly low. A soft smile of appreciation graced Jake’s lips as he watched her approach. He took her gloved hand and kissed the back of it.
‘Must we go out?’ Charles heard his friend ask in a suggestive drawl.
‘Behave yourself, Jake. I hope you don’t think I have overstepped the mark but…well, I thought that if we’re going to show ourselves as an affianced couple then we might as well make a splash.’
‘You have got it exactly right,’ he assured her. ‘There won’t be a man in the place who will be able to take his eyes off you and I shall have to spend the entire evening fighting off the competition.’
Olivia flapped a hand. ‘Hardly. None of the gentlemen there will be permitted by their ladies to speak to me.’
Charles barely heard their exchange, since his attention was all for Megan. Her attire—all black, naturally—offered a striking contract to Olivia’s. He could see from her regal bearing that she took confidence from the manner in which the expensive gown complimented her svelte form, hopefully countering the inevitable nerves. A maid had done her very best to add to that confidence by dressing her hair in a flattering style and adding colour to her pale face with the artful use of light cosmetics.
Charles took her hand and bowed over it, smiling his approval.
‘We should perhaps leave now,’ Jake suggested. ‘We have allowed sufficient time for rumours of our impending arrival to circulate. Besides, Eva and Isaac will be waiting.’
‘Ever one to make an entrance, Jake,’ Olivia said with a sparkling smile.
‘Everyone will take one look at you and I shall be cast into a shadow thicker than this evening’s fog.’
‘Prettily put, my lord, but the ladies anxious to make you come to your senses most likely have excellent vision.’
Jake took Olivia’s fur-lined evening cape from the hands of her maid and draped it around her shoulders himself before donning his own outer garments. With Megan swathed in a fetching cloak trimmed with black swansdown and Charles once again wearing his own cloak, they were ready to leave.
Parker sprang forward to open the carriage door and let down the steps while Franklin removed the rugs from the horses’ backs. Installed inside the conveyance beside Jake, their backs to the horses, Charles felt the carriage dip as Franklin and Parker got up behind. As it moved forward, Charles glanced at the house, still visible through the fog. All the lights but one had been extinguished by Green and the gap obliging left by him in the drapes gave the clear impression that no one was at home. Jake saw it too and nodded his approval.
The carriage turned a corner and stopped so that the footmen could change places. It was done quickly and without anyone speaking. If they were still being watched, Charles doubted very much if anyone would have noticed the exchange. With that hurdle out of the way, he turned his thoughts to the evening to come and the ordeal facing his brave Megan. Instinctively he reached across the short space that divided them and clasped her hand in his. She looked up at him in evident surprise, but did not pull her hand away again.
***
Megan sat in Lord Torbay’s luxurious carriage and was surprised by just how calm she felt. Surely she should be jittery with nerves as they drew ever closer to Lady Garmin’s imposing mansion. She was about to confront a ballroom full of society’s elite who would brand her as an imposter the moment they set eyes on her and would want nothing to do with her. The dowager countess would have already made sure of that. How could she ever have supposed it would be otherwise? Why had she agreed to this ridiculous scheme—one that was doomed to failure before it even began?
She had seen approval in Charles’s eyes when she entered Olivia’s drawing room, reinforcing the unlikely possibility that his appreciation transcended mere politeness. She really ought not to encourage feelings that she didn’t—couldn’t—reciprocate. Then why are you holding his hand? She was being disloyal to Luke’s memory but couldn’t think about that now. One hurdle at a time.
She was beside herself with worry about Sebastian. She had every faith in Parker and Franklin, but what if they were somehow outwitted? The desperate fiends could simply set fire to the house and poor Sebastian would be trapped on the top floor. No, don’t think about such a ridiculous possibility. She wondered instead how she would feel if she entered that ballroom and everyone deliberately subjected her to the cut direct. Then there was her father’s startling behaviour to consider. She was still unable to decide if he had told the complete truth, but was not equal to visiting him in order to find out. He could stew indefinitely as far as she was concerned. He had deserted her in her hour of need, and now the tables had been turned.
All in all, was it any wonder that she felt anxious about being ridiculed by a class of society she hadn’t consciously aspired to join? She had not properly considered all the ramifications when she had fallen so helplessly in love with Luke. Charles understood her turmoil because he had spent enough time in her company to appreciate her finer feelings. She had been suspicious at first, unable to understand why such a highly sought after gentleman was finding the time to take an interest in her affairs. With his piercing green eyes, lazy engaging smile and unruly shock of russet hair he turned heads wherever he went…especially female heads. If he noticed, he gave no sign and appeared to have all the time in the world for her and Sebastian.
It had been baffling, and still was.
He had again come to her rescue, taking her hand in an instinctive gesture of reassurance that it would be churlish to reject or take exception to.
‘We have arrived,’ Jake said.
Charles withdrew his hand and Megan immediately felt its loss.
‘What a lot of carriages,’ Megan said, peering through the window.
‘We are amongst the last,’ Olivia explained. ‘Intentionally so. That means we don’t have to freeze to death whilst we wait for our carriage to reach the head of the queue. Equally, there are limited places in which carriages can wait in this part of London, which explains why the street is so clogged.’
Their conveyance reached the space that had been left for arriving vehicles immediately outside the front door. A footman Megan didn’t recognise jumped down from behind and let the steps down. Lord Torbay alighted first and helped the ladies to negotiate the tricky business of leaving a carriage elegantly whilst wearing full crinolines. Charles emerged last and Megan was relieved when he offered his arm. She didn’t hesitate to place a violently trembling hand upon it, grateful for its support.
‘Have courage,’ he said as they ascended the steps in Lord Torbay and Olivia’s wake. ‘Just remain with me and I shall not permit anyone to be impolite to you.’
‘Thank you.’ She managed a wan smile. ‘I think.’
They divested themselves of their outer garments in the vestibule and followed the same butler that Megan had seen earlier that day up a winding staircase. She could hear a lively polka being played and the noise of dozens of well-cultured voices rising above it even before they reached the first floor.
The butler cleared his throat and, as though everyone had been anticipating their arrival, an unnatural hush fell over the ballroom. Even the musicians seemed to play more quietly, as though more interested in the new arrivals than their rendition of Chadelyn’s Cotillion.
‘My Lord Torbay. Mrs Olivia Grantley. Lord Charles Hadley.’ He paused significantly, until identical scowls from Lord Torbay and Charles made him continue. ‘Lady…Cantrell.’
Every head in the massive ballroom turned in their direction. Megan was conscious of the muscles in Charles’s forearm tightening beneath her trembling fingers, encouraging her without the need for words. Megan lifted her chin, telling herself she could do this. Charles led her towards Lady Garmin and the gentleman who stood beside her‒presumably her husband. Megan was grateful when the cacophony of noise from the ballroom resumed, even if she was conscious of still being minutely scrutinised by hundreds of pairs of inquisitive eyes.
Charles was received with great warmth. ‘My daughter is delighted that you were able to join us, Lord Charles,’ Lady Garmin gushed with a total lack of finesse. ‘As, of course, are we.’ She turned her attention to Megan and offered her a frosty smile. ‘We meet again,’ she said, Megan’s title conspicuous by her hostess’s lack of use of it. ‘Welcome.’
‘Lady Garmin.’ Megan dipped a miniscule curtsey, probably less than her hostess had a right to expect but, given her incivility, more than she deserved.
‘Oh lud! Everyone’s looking at me,’ Megan said as they moved on.
‘Of course they are, and I don’t blame them in the least.’
‘Is Lady Cantrell here?’
‘Yes, she’s beside me.’
Megan looked to left and right, then realised he was referring to her. She laughed at her reaction, just as he had most likely intended, and felt some of the tension leave her body.
‘I had no idea there would be so many people here.’
‘This is a relatively small affair. Balls in the height of the season might see six hundred guests accept their invitations.’
‘Six hundred!’ Megan widened her eyes, feeling hot and flustered amidst the press of bodies. She opened her borrowed black fan and rapidly deployed it. ‘There she is,’ she said, closing the fan again and using it to point it in the direction of the dowager duchess, who was standing at the side of the room, glaring daggers at Megan.
‘Shall we take the initiative?’ Charles asked, steering her in that direction.
‘I would prefer to avoid her, if it’s all the same to you. I don’t relish a public put-down.’
‘Everyone expects you to avoid her, and if you do it will add fuel to the rumours she has probably already spread about your being an impostor.’
Megan squared her shoulders. ‘Well then, in that case.’
She again felt as though every eye in the room was observing her as Charles led her around the side of the dancers, acknowledging acquaintances as he went.
‘Lady Cantrell,’ he said, reaching her side and giving her a charming smile. ‘And Lady Arabella. Cantrell,’ he added, nodding to the man at Arabella’s side whom Megan supposed must be cousin Joseph.
Megan studied Mr Joseph Cantrell, about whom she had heard so much but never before set eyes upon. He was a tall man, about as tall as Luke had been, and Megan felt a lurch in the pit of her stomach as she noticed facial similarities to her beloved husband. But there was none of the habitual sparkle in this man’s eyes, as there had always been in fun-loving Luke’s. Instead there was arrogance in his bearing and a cruel twist to his lips that marred his otherwise handsome features.
‘You are not acquainted with Luke’s widow, I think, Cantrell,’ Charles said affably. ‘Megan, this is Luke’s cousin, Mr Joseph Cantrell.’
Megan dipped a curtsey. ‘Mr Cantrell.’
‘Madam,’ he replied stiffly, inclining his head mere inches. She noticed Charles scowl at his incivility but he made no comment upon it.
The two ladies mumbled incomprehensible and insultingly short responses, looking as though they would prefer to ignore Megan all together. But Megan rose to the occasion.
‘It is a pleasure to see you again Mama-in-Law,’ she said in a voice loud enough to be heard by all the couples who had deliberately drifted closer in the hope, presumably, of overhearing a heated exchange. ‘Sister,’ she added, smiling at Arabella, whose face was pinched with rage.
‘Luke told me a great deal about you, Mr Cantrell,’ Megan said, returning her attention to Joseph and almost enjoying herself when she saw his face go from scarlet with indignation to puce with suppressed anger. She reminded herself that the loathsome man had probably already set a plan in motion to kidnap her beloved son and wanted him to be aware what he was up against. If Joseph was not already aware quite how tenaciously a mother’s protective instincts came to the fore when her young was threatened, he was overdue a lesson in that regard. ‘And I can see now that he did not exaggerate,’ she added, subjecting his person to a scathing appraisal that made it evident she was not overly impressed with what she saw.
Megan felt empowered when all three of their mouths gaped and no words escaped them. She could sense that Charles was trying very hard not to laugh.
‘Come, my dear,’ he said. ‘Your relations do not have exclusive rights to your company. There are other people I would have you meet.’
So saying, Charles executed one of his elegant bows and led Megan away.
‘You were superb,’ he told her. ‘I am incredibly proud of you.’
‘It is you who took the wind out of their sails by making the initial approach. Thank you. I would not have found the courage on my own.’
‘You have already shown that you have a great deal more courage than you realise.’
‘Perhaps where Sebastian is‒’
‘Lord Charles, there you are.’ Lady Garmin bustled up to them. ‘Emma is anxious to renew her acquaintance with you.’ She pulled forward a pretty young girl in a frothy creation of lemon lace rather as though she was a conjurer extracting a rabbit from a top hat. ‘And a new dance is about to…’
‘Good evening, Miss Garmin.’ Charles took her hand and bowed over it but kept Megan’s hand secured in the crook of his other arm. ‘I shall be delighted to solicit a dance at a later time but for now, pray excuse me. I promised to introduce Lady Cantrell to various people since she knows so few of us, is in mourning and cannot dance. You however, cannot possibly want for partners, I am absolutely sure of it.’
Miss Garmin blushed to the roots of her hair and made some inane remark that didn’t register with Megan.
‘Oh, I can introduce her more efficiently than you. After all, these are my guests and I know them all.’ She beckoned to Megan. ‘Come, my dear.’
The pressure from Charles’s arm upon Megan’s hand increased. ‘Thank you, Lady Garmin, but I promised Lady Cantrell most particularly.’ Megan smiled innocently, aware that Charles was overusing her title to compensate for Lady Garmin’s disinclination to allow it past her lips. ‘And I never go back on my word.’
Someone else attracted Lady Garmin’s attention and so mother and daughter scowled and walked away without bothering to excuse themselves.
‘You are very good at this,’ Megan said. ‘I suppose it’s all your training as a diplomat that ensures you always know precisely what to say.’
‘I am enjoying myself enormously and don’t consider myself to be on duty.’ He smiled at her. ‘All these people are probably furious because we’ve spoiled their fun by averting a public squabble.’
‘How very disobliging of you.’
‘I live to serve.’ He scanned the crowd, tall enough to see over the majority of heads. ‘There’s Eva and Isaac. Olivia is with them but I don’t see Jake. Shall we join them?’
‘With pleasure. It will be a relief to speak with people who actually want to acknowledge me for my own sake.’
‘You have been with one such all the evening,’ he said so softly that she barely caught the words above the hubbub of the conversations surrounding them.
Chapter Fifteen
Jake and Olivia were greeted with polite applause and muted congratulations. He escorted his beloved through the throng, hoping she didn’t hear some of the vitriolic comments bein
g made about her. Well aware that she did.
‘She looks like the sort of woman who would go to any extreme to get what she wants…’
‘Including getting rid of the inconvenience of her first husband, so I’m told…’
‘Lord Torbay being is being swayed by an averagely pretty face. Who would have though it…’
‘She’s a widow, my dear. I expect she got her claws into him in the bedchamber and then…well, you know how ridiculous men are in that situation…’
He bestowed a look of haughty disdain upon the woman who made that particular remark, and she had the goodness to blush and avert her gaze. Another offender, sanctimonious in her disapproval, also happened to have a granddaughter in whom she had failed to interest Jake on the few occasions when he’d been unable to avoid her society.
‘Isn’t it reassuring to know that everyone is so happy for us,’ Olivia remarked drolly.
Jake knew her sarcasm was intended as a disguise for her wounded pride. She had been expecting such criticism, but it still seemed so unjust and his heart went out to his beautiful siren. She was guilty of nothing more sinister than having been forced into matrimony with a philanderer and a brute. She had certainly not killed him.
‘Don’t let it bother you, my sweet,’ he said softly. ‘If this lot is the epitome of respectability and their only pleasure is found in gossiping about others, then we should rise above their pettiness and let them have their fun. There is nothing they can do to hurt us.’
She sent him a dazzling smile. ‘You always know exactly the right thing to say.’
His responding chuckle had a predatory edge. ‘I much prefer to let my actions speak for me, as a general rule.’
‘Given my condition, I can hardly pretend to be surprised. In fact, why do I not mention it to the old hag who thinks I tricked you with my wiles and ask for her congratulations? Now that,’ she added with a mischievous smile, ‘would really give her something to gossip about.’
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