The Deserted Heart: Unmarriageable Series (Unmarriagable Series Book 1)

by Mary Lancaster

  And she, the unmarriageable, sensible, designated helper, was selfishly hindering her sister and therefore her family. Or was seen by Thomasina to be. Either way, she wanted to slink back to her bedchamber and hide.

  Instead, she went down to dinner with her family, and made sure to stay in the background, saying little and avoiding as much direct contact with the duke as possible.

  *

  The following evening was the Laceys’ party. Charlotte did her best to cry off, but her mother said it was too late now as she was already promised.

  It had not been difficult to avoid the duke during the day, for it seemed he had gone off to Finsborough alone. Charlotte had trouble squashing her curiosity in case his trip was to do with the missing Mr. Cornell and the elusive den of thieves. But since he came back to Audley Park only just in time to change for an early dinner before setting off for Seldon Manor, she had little chance to ask.

  They travelled in two coaches, the first containing Lady Overton, Thomasina, and the duke. The second carried Lord Overton, Henrietta, and Charlotte.

  “What is the matter, Papa?” Charlotte asked after ten minutes of watching her father’s distant eyes and anxious frown.

  His frown cleared at once. “Why, nothing, nothing at all,” he assured her. “I was just beginning to wonder if your mother and I misunderstood. Now I’m not so sure Alvan ever had any intention of offering for your sister.”

  “Of course he has,” Henrietta said bracingly. “Why else would he have come?”

  “Henrie’s right, Papa,” Charlotte agreed, although her stomach was churning. “It’s not as if he was ever your close friend, was he? He must have come because of Thomasina.”

  “Yes, and if he’s looked her over and found her wanting, I shall be annoyed! To put it no more strongly.”

  Charlotte was about to deny Alvan was so arrogant or so crass, but in fact, she did not know that. The whole thing was so much of a business transaction that she could acquit neither the duke nor her father. But it was Thomasina who was being hurt.

  “I had begun to think our troubles were over,” Papa said gloomily. He stared out of the window and grimaced. “But you know, I could swear he is comfortable with us.”

  “I suspect he is,” Charlotte said after a moment. “And I’m sure he’ll speak before he leaves us…”

  Despite Mrs. Lacey’s description of the event as an impromptu little party, she was clearly doing all she could to make it the neighborhood’s most famous social gathering of the year. The drive and the front of the house were lit up most extravagantly for the array of vehicles depositing the Laceys’ guests.

  “They must have people staying,” Henrietta observed in great excitement as she peered out of the window. “Perhaps even from London! This is wonderful!”

  In contrast, Charlotte, who much preferred smaller parties where she knew everyone, felt her heart sink. She suspected Mrs. Lacey had not been frank with them, and there was nothing impromptu about this party at all. It had been deliberately designed to secure the presence of the Duke of Alvan who rarely attended London parties and was therefore a great feather in her cap. So, if Dunstan didn’t offer for Almeria, no doubt someone just as good in the standing of the world would.

  Of course, she said nothing so ill-natured to Papa, who perked up considerably at the possibility of running into old and powerful friends.

  Although there was no ballroom attached to the manor house, Mrs. Lacey had created the atmosphere of a ball by clearing her drawing room and the dining room which was normally partitioned from it. This made a large enough dancefloor with space for the trio of musicians she had hired. The large, square hallway outside it was brimming with people, only a few of whom were local families Charlotte knew.

  On the other side of the hall, she glimpsed her mother and Thomasina, already surrounded by a little court of admirers, clearly in their element greeting old friends from London. Beside them loomed the large, haughty figure of the duke. She suspected he hated this as much as she did. He probably wished he’d offered for Thomasina days ago and left the neighborhood. And he probably understood perfectly that he’d been the draw employed by Mrs. Lacey to achieve such a large party.

  “So glad to see you here, my lord,” Mrs. Lacey gushed. “I never expected quite so many people—I’m sure they did not all accept!—but an old friend is particularly welcome. Her ladyship is just over there, with his grace…”

  “So I see,” Overton said. “Quite the event, Mrs. L., quite the event!”

  Their hostess greeted Henrietta and Charlotte with slightly more muted enthusiasm, realizing no doubt that Henrietta was competition for her own daughter. Her gaze flickered over Charlotte’s gown in a way that made her only too conscious that it was old, unfashionable, and had been worn to every evening party since she had come home to England. Before that, it had been Thomasina’s.

  Charlotte had never cared much about dress, particularly her own, but she was human enough not to wish to be sniggered at or pitied by strangers. She wished she had stayed at home. However, keeping a faint smile plastered to her face, she walked behind her father and Henrietta and was glad to see Matthew making his way toward them from the drawing room. Ahead, Lady Overton waved her fan at her husband to attract his attention, and the duke followed her gaze, Charlotte imagined a faint, rueful curl to his lips, as though he sympathized and shared her ordeal. Which was suddenly more unbearable than anything.

  Hastily, she turned to greet Matthew. “An impromptu little party?” she teased.

  “Oh well.” Matthew gave his cravat a quick tug before anxiously patting it back into shape. “Seems to have been my mother’s little joke.”

  The orchestra was striking up for a country dance. Thomasina passed regally into the drawing room on the arm of the Duke of Alvan. And for the first time in her life, Charlotte knew a stab of jealousy over a man’s attentions. Shocked, she wanted to run away and hide.

  “I don’t suppose you’d care to dance with me?” Matthew said beside her, his voice unusually diffident.

  She glanced at him, forcing herself to make sense of the words while squashing the surge of unpleasant emotion inside her. But of course, dancing with Matthew was the perfect distraction.

  “Of course I would,” she said brightly, and turned to tell her father.

  Henrietta was looking outraged that her dowdy elder sister should be asked to dance before her, but for once, Charlotte did not care. If she did not do something, exert herself thoroughly, she felt as if she would explode.

  “Shall we join Thomasina’s set?” Matthew suggested.

  This was the last thing Charlotte wanted, but fortunately, she spotted Almeria and Lord Dunstan forming a set on the other side of the room. “Let’s join Almeria’s instead,” she said, tugging him in that direction.

  The dance was a massive relief to her tense muscles and her anxious mind. The combination of physical exercise and concentrating on steps she was not completely familiar with, was just what she needed to pull herself together.

  Besides which, dancing was fun. Because of her illness, she had not taken part in her sisters’ dancing lessons, but she had watched and learned and as she’d recovered, she had practiced in small groups of friends where no one cared if she missed a step or turned the wrong way. Dancing with Matthew, she remembered the exhilaration all over again.

  After the dance, she returned to her parents, breathless and much more contented. Matthew left them to “go and do the pretty” as he phrased it gloomily. Thomasina and Henrietta were both claimed immediately by other partners Charlotte did not know. And although she tried not to look, she could not help seeing that the duke was dancing with Almeria. Of course, he was more or less obliged to, but it would make Mrs. Lacey’s evening.

  “It’s good to see you having fun,” her mother said, patting her hand.

  After a time, Charlotte remembered her manners and went and fetched drinks for her parents and herself. Returning, she knew she could no
w happily remain a wallflower for the rest of the evening.

  “Guess what, Mama?” Henrietta said breathlessly when her partner had returned her to the parental fold. “The next dance is to be a waltz! You will allow me, won’t you? I know Tommie has waltzed in London and—”

  “Of course,” their mother said indulgently.

  In fact, there seemed to be something of a tidal wave of young men rushing toward them. Henrietta happily went off with the first hopeful who asked her, though Thomasina, an older hand, made her court work for her favor before she chose one.

  Amused, Charlotte watched the rejected retreat to find other partners, while Thomasina sailed onto the dance floor with a very dashing and elegant man. Then the crowd cleared, and the Duke of Alvan walked across the floor toward them.

  Charlotte’s heart gave a silly lurch, reminding her of her earlier agitation. But of course, he was much too civil to neglect her parents. He inclined his head amiably, including them all.

  “Miss Charlotte, would you do me the honor of this dance?”

  She had a horrible feeling her jaw dropped. Certainly, it seemed an effort to close her lips and swallow. “Me? Don’t be silly,” she blurted.

  “Charlotte,” uttered her mother, fanning herself in despair.

  Alvan’s eyes danced. “Don’t be so unkind as to give me my congé in front of everyone.”

  Of course, far too many people followed the duke’s every move. Unthinkable for the favored to refuse him.

  “I don’t waltz,” she said desperately. “I never have.”

  She thought he might just sit down with them, then, or take a turn about the room with her for form’s sake. But the gleam in his eyes intensified. His lips quirked. “That will make it much more fun.”

  Laughter rose up inside her as he held out his hand compellingly. She took it before she meant to, and rose. With her hand on his sleeve, she said, “You will force me to make a fool of myself in front of all those eyes instead.”

  “I don’t believe so.”

  The dance began. With some relief, she said, “Why don’t we just walk instead?”

  “Coward,” he murmured, and taking her in his arms, he swept her onto the dance floor. “Don’t look at your feet, look at me.”

  Stunned, it took a moment for the rhythm of the music to reach her, and for her feet to follow his guidance, but she quickly found it easier to dance than not. Clearly, he was an excellent and experienced dancer.

  “I thought you did not attend balls as a rule,” she accused.

  “I avoid them when I can. Sometimes, I can’t. And of course, I was well taught. You have been avoiding me.”

  Again, he took her by surprise. But she recovered quickly. “How could I? You were away all day.”

  “Yes, but I’m sensing a distance that wasn’t there yesterday. Have I offended you?”

  “Of course not,” she exclaimed. She drew in a breath, meeting his gaze with conscious bravery. “I cannot monopolize your time.”

  His eyelids dropped and she knew he understood. He said, “That was hardly the case. But don’t you want to know where I went today?”

  “Finsborough, according to my father.”

  “I went looking for traces of our thieves, or Cornell.”

  “Ah! Did you find anything?” she asked eagerly.

  “I think I found where they were hiding out, but they seem to have flown. Which was why, I suspect, I was able to find people to lead me there.”

  She frowned. “But flown where? And what of Mr. Cornell?”

  “Well, I did find a tiny scrap of cloth on a floorboard nail—blue superfine, which could have been from his coat. Or any well-to-do gentleman’s coat, I suppose.”

  “Then they took him with them when they fled?” Charlotte said hopefully. “Or… please tell me you found no trace of… blood or dead… bodies?”

  He shook his head. “I don’t know, of course, but my feeling is, Cornell is fine. I take him to be a great survivor.”

  “I hope you are right. But where do you think they have gone? And why?”

  “I suspect they have to keep moving on before the law becomes wise to them. I think it might be time to inform your magistrates, so they can look out for areas where crime increases suddenly.”

  “Mr. Lacey is a magistrate.”

  “Hmm.” He looked thoughtful for a few moments, during which she had leisure to become only too aware of his nearness, of his arm, like warm steel, at her waist. All the feelings of yesterday’s accidental contact were magnified in an overwhelming yet delicious wave of secret pleasure. His eyes refocused on her. “And you, Charlotte? Are you unhappy to be here?”

  “I was,” she admitted, then, heat sweeping into her face, she added, “That is, I felt we had been tricked and as you know I do not care for large parties. But my sisters are in their element and my father is delighted to renew old acquaintances.” She hesitated. “Does this happen to you a lot?”

  “What? That I am paraded as a prize bull to be shown off? When I let it. It no longer disturbs me.”

  “Why did it disturb you before?” she asked curiously.

  He spun them around. Somehow, she kept her footing, though she knew he would not answer her.

  Again, he surprised her. “When one is young, it can be lowering to be valued only for one’s wealth and position, and not for the extraordinary person one is convinced one must be.”

  “And when one is a few years older?”

  His lips curved, though it wasn’t quite a smile. “It’s the way of the world. None of us will ever change that. It is, in the end, a trivial price to pay for privilege.”

  She smiled. “I suspect you are quite an extraordinary person.”

  “I never tire of hearing it,” he said flippantly, “although, it is uplifting to hear another voice raised with my own.”

  She laughed. “You will make me tread on your toes,” she warned.

  “Tread away, they are sturdy.”

  The thirty minutes of the dance seemed to pass with lightning speed, in a blur of banter and fun and the secret excitement of being so close to him. She forgot about everyone else. There was only the music and the dance and him.

  Until, finally, the music came to a close and the world intruded. As his arm fell away from her waist, she had difficulty dragging her gaze from his, but the euphoria of the dance was still with her. She did not mind the curious, even avid attention focused on them. The duke bowed with a hint of wry humor, and she curtseyed in similar vein before taking his proffered arm.

  Together, they turned and found themselves face to face with Lord Dunstan and a woman whose beauty transcended the lines of tiredness and strain around her eyes.

  Dunstan bowed. “Miss Charlotte. Allow me to present you to Lady Gordyn. Miss Charlotte Maybury, Alicia. What’s the matter, Alvan, don’t you recognize my cousin?”

  Involuntarily, before exchanging more than smiles with the lady, Charlotte glanced at Alvan. His face was white. And Lady Gordyn’s hand trembled as she offered it, almost pleadingly, to the duke. As though she were frightened.

  Charlotte’s breath caught. Had Dunstan’s story yesterday been true? Was this the lady Alvan had once tried to elope with? The lady who had been put up to the mischief by Dunstan seeking revenge? Certainly, Charlotte could not doubt that the lady’s sudden presence had shaken him.

  However, he recovered quickly, taking Lady Gordyn’s fingers and bowing over them. “Of course, I remember. How do you do, Lady Gordyn? It’s a great pleasure to meet you again.”

  “Thank you,” the lady replied faintly. “Your grace is looking well.”

  Alvan inclined his head again. “I hope we can talk later. Excuse me.”

  Charlotte didn’t know if he was sparing himself or Lady Gordyn, but he led Charlotte away without so much as glancing at Dunstan.

  “Is that…?” Charlotte began, before breaking off with a flush of mortification.

  Alvan cast a glance at her. Some incomprehensible st
orm raged in his normally cool eyes. “Who?” he asked sardonically. “Has Dunstan been spinning tales for your delectation? Or for Miss Maybury’s?”

  “Ultimately for Thomasina’s, I expect,” Charlotte replied frankly. “Are they true?”

  “I don’t know. It depends what he said. But know that the lady is blameless.”

  Another twinge of jealousy troubled Charlotte. What on earth was the matter with her? “Of course,” she murmured.

  His eyes softened. His lips quirked. “I did enjoy our dance,” he said, just a little ruefully. “Thank you.”

  “Thank you,” she murmured, for they had reached her mother once more. She slid her hand free of his arm. He bowed to Lady Overton and walked away.

  Chapter Ten

  Alvan had been following more than his own inclinations when he had asked Charlotte to dance. She had confided on their first meeting that she disliked large parties, and he had seen as soon as she entered the house how uncomfortable she was. She lacked the confidence and the experience, to say nothing of the encouragement of the right clothes, to find the evening remotely agreeable. Well, he could not take her out of the situation, so all he could do was make it more pleasurable. And that was where his rank was useful.

  He had walked up to her deliberately, choosing the earliest dance he could, and he was glad it was a waltz, for it distinguished her even more. And he had set out to put her at ease, although, as always, he had quickly got lost in her quicksilver company. He no longer tried to make her shine, but she did anyway. And he knew the avid and casual observers would see at last what he did. That while she might not have the perfect beauty and society manners of her sisters, let alone their fine clothes, her own more unusual loveliness was grounded in character and sheer vitality. That she had an originality that was worth cultivating.

  It was his good deed of the evening, and he was glad to do it, for reasons that were not entirely selfless. He liked being with her. He knew, as the dance ended, that she would not lack for partners now, and that any perceived gaucheness would now be put down to charming originality. Even the faint hesitation in her speech would be pronounced charming. Because he had so clearly found it so.