by Rose Pearson
Rebecca’s flush only deepened, but Lady Hayward laughed and pressed her to speak openly.
“I have given it some consideration,” Rebecca replied eventually, hating that her cheeks were so colored. “He would have to have an excellent title. I believe a marquess would be the most acceptable to my father. In addition, he must be solvent, of course, with no penchant for wasting it away on something such as gambling or horseflesh. I believe my father would be expecting that he would have a large estate, with evidence of profit from each year, as well as a plan for how the estate might continue to grow and flourish.” She lifted one shoulder, allowing herself to look out at the various gentlemen who were moving past them, wondering which one might have such qualities. “He would have to be sensible, not prone to drunkenness, and be eager to produce an heir. That is all I believe that my father would expect.”
Relieved that she had spoken as Lady Hayward had wished, Rebecca turned her head to her chaperone, wondering what the lady would make of it, only to see her gazing back at Rebecca with utter astonishment. Her blue eyes were wide, her mouth a little ajar, and had come to a complete halt, staring at Rebecca as though she had gone quite mad.
“Did I say something upsetting?” Rebecca asked, now all the more embarrassed at such a reaction from the lady. “I apologize if I—”
“My dear Lady Rebecca!” Lady Hayward exclaimed, grasping Rebecca’s hand suddenly and shaking her head with such fervor that, for a moment, Rebecca feared that the lady was unwell. “What can you be thinking of?”
“I—I do not understand what you mean,” Rebecca replied, stammering just a little. “I have only spoken as you asked me.”
“No, no!” Lady Hayward exclaimed, a now considerate smile spreading across her face. “There must be more to your expectations of a husband than that, Lady Rebecca!” Lowering her voice and still holding Rebecca’s hand, she took a small step closer. “When I ask you about what you are considering in terms of suitable gentlemen, I do not mean what requirements fulfill your father’s satisfaction, Lady Rebecca, but what you consider!”
Rebecca shook her head. “I do not know what you mean, Lady Hayward.”
Lady Hayward pressed her fingers gently and then removed her hand. “Should you like him to be kind? Considerate? Would you like a husband who would make you smile? Shall he enjoy horse riding, for example, if that is something you enjoy? What shared interests might you have? Should you prefer a gentleman bold and loud or quiet and a little more studious?” Her eyes sparkled. “And there is always the consideration as to whether or not the gentleman’s features are appealing to you, Lady Rebecca. That is not something that ought to be ignored. One should not marry a gentleman that does not have a handsome quality about him, although that particular preference changes from person to person.”
Rebecca, who had never heard anyone speak in such a frank way before nor had ever even thought of such a thing before, did not know what to say. She swallowed hard, her cheeks burning hot, and her mind whirling with all manner of thoughts.
“I can see that we will have to have many discussions before we can settle on a particular sort of gentleman,” Lady Hayward said, no mockery in her voice but with a gentleness in her manner that took away some of Rebecca’s embarrassment. “It is not something you have considered, then?”
“No,” Rebecca replied, hoarsely. “I have never once permitted myself to think of anything other than what my father will require.”
“Well, you shall do so now,” Lady Hayward answered decisively. “I shall introduce you to various gentlemen this evening, Lady Rebecca, and perhaps tomorrow, you and I shall discuss their merits and whether or not you had any particular interest in any one of them.”
This sounded quite a horrifying prospect to Rebecca, who had never even thought that such a thing would take place. When thinking of the coming Season, she had supposed that she would meet a gentleman who seemed to be suitable, would mention his name to her father, and that, thereafter, a match would be made. And, if the gentleman was not found to be all that her father required, then she would consider another. Never once had she thought about what she herself would seek! But now Lady Hayward was quite convinced that she ought to do so, and Rebecca did not know what to think.
“Let us begin with the Marquess of Lancaster,” Lady Hayward said practically, looping her hand through Rebecca’s arm. “And thereafter, perhaps the Earl of Bridgewater?” A laugh escaped her as she looked up into Rebecca’s startled face. “Have no fear, Lady Rebecca. All will be well, although perhaps a little altered from what you had anticipated.”
“Yes, very different indeed,” Rebecca replied, lifting her chin and forcing air into her tight lungs. She would allow Lady Hayward to be her guide and, in doing so, would make herself consider things she had not before. Rebecca could only pray, however, that she would not make a fool of herself but would instead make an excellent impression upon society that her father expected. She could do nothing less than that.
Chapter Three
With a small sigh, Jeffery stepped into the ballroom and looked all about him. He was not particularly enamored with society, but with very little else to entertain him back at his estate, he had decided to return to London to partake of London’s diversions.
“Good evening, Lord Richmond.”
“Good evening,” he murmured, bowing low towards Lady Kensington, who had floated towards him almost the moment he had entered the drawing-room. “I thank you for your invitation this evening, Lady Kensington. I do apologize for my tardiness.” Looking about him, he tried to find Lord Kensington but could not see him anywhere. “I should like to greet your husband also.”
Lady Kensington trilled a laugh and, much to Jeffery’s discomfort, trailed one hand down his arm. He did not remove himself from her presence, however, knowing that to do so would appear very rude indeed, even though he did not appreciate her gesture. Her dress seemed to be the latest stare of fashion, and the neckline was quite low to show off her charms. Jeffery, however, avoided looking at her bosom as he did not want to encourage her attentions.
“He is already deep in conversation about some matter of importance, Lord Richmond,” Lady Kensington told him, her eyes now practically fixed to his own, her fingers brushing down his hand. “A very dull matter, however.” She sighed plaintively, then snapped her fingers towards one of the footmen, who brought over his tray at once, allowing Jeffery to pick up a glass of brandy as Lady Kensington continued to watch him. The urge to remove himself from her company grew within him, but Jeffery knew he could not do so, not without making himself appear very rude indeed. For whatever reason, Lady Kensington had been overfamiliar during last year’s Season, and she now appeared to be behaving in much the same way—much to Jeffery’s frustration.
“Again, forgive my tardiness,” he said, struggling to find what else to say. “I was, I am afraid, caught up in a matter that could not be set aside.”
“But it is resolved now, I hope?” she asked, her eyes a little wider than before as she looked up at him. “You will not have to depart early?”
“No, no, indeed not,” he replied as a bright smile broke out across her face. “I shall be very happy to remain here this evening, Lady Kensington. Now,” he cleared his throat and inclined his head. “If you will excuse me, I should greet your husband, even if he is caught up in an important discussion. I must beg pardon for my late arrival.”
Lady Kensington let out a murmur of protest, but Jeffery quickly took his leave of her, a slight shiver running down his spine as he glanced back over his shoulder to see Lady Kensington still watching him, her eyes glittering darkly. She was, of course, a very beautiful lady, but Jeffery was not the sort of gentleman to chase after another man’s wife, no matter how much she batted her lashes at him.
“It seems Lady Kensington is just as eager as before, then.”
Jeffery gave his friend a tight smile, a deeply unsettling feeling in his stomach. “Indeed,” he muttered as Lor
d Swinton shook his head in a manner that spoke of his dislike of Lady Kensington’s behavior. “You behave in a most admirable fashion, Richmond. Many gentlemen would have given in to her. In fact, I am quite certain that many have done so.”
Taking a sip of his brandy, Jeffery drew in a long breath. “I am not one of them,” he muttered as Lord Swinton grinned. “As much as she might wish it, I am not at all inclined towards her.”
“And we are all aware of it,” Lord Swinton replied, slapping Jeffery on the shoulder. “Now that I consider it, you have not shown any interest in any lady whatsoever, save for that one debutante some two Seasons ago!”
It was something of a painful memory and not one that Jeffery relished being brought back to his attention. “If you are speaking of Miss St. Claire, then I can assure you that there was no real interest there,” he lied. “And when she chose another, I was quite happy.”
Lord Swinton laughed and shook his head. “I will not believe that, no matter how often you try to convince me of it,” he said with a grin. “You had your heart quite broken and since then have been unable to find another young lady that can in any way compare to Miss St. Claire.”
“Enough,” Jeffery growled, having had his fill of Lord Swinton’s jibes. “If you recall, we were discussing Lady Kensington.” He kept his voice low, not wanting anyone to overhear him. “Is there any advice you wish to give me, Swinton? Or will you merely continue to mock me?”
Lord Swinton did not immediately answer, his expression becoming a little more serious as he tilted his head and let his gaze flick back towards Lady Kensington, who was, Jeffery presumed, still standing somewhere behind him.
“I have no advice to give you,” Lord Swinton said eventually as Jeffery let out a heavy sigh of frustration. “You can continue to push aside her attentions as you have been doing, but other than that, I cannot see what you can do.”
“Do you think Lord Kensington is aware of her…eagerness?” Jeffery asked, a little anxious that he might find himself in a little difficulty should Lord Kensington notice his wife’s behavior. “If he is, then I am not at all sure what I ought to do.”
Lord Swinton shook his head. “The man either is fully aware of her and chooses to ignore it, or he is a simpleton,” he said bluntly. “I am more inclined to lean towards the first suggestion, however. I am sure that is why he is so often absent at events such as this or, at the very least, standing separately from his wife.”
Jeffery winced. “That must be most unfortunate for him.”
“That,” Lord Swinton replied sharply, “is because he was foolish enough to marry a young lady that was both much too young for his older years and much too silly for his sensible nature. He ought to have made a match with more consideration than he did. Little wonder that his wife now seeks out better company than he, for they are so mismatched that she must be very bored indeed!”
A murmur of protest in Jeffery’s heart brought a quick response. “I do not think that either a difference in years nor in nature is enough of an excuse to behave in such a way,” he replied as Lord Swinton shrugged. “I should expect a lady such as she to be flirtatious, yes, but to be so overt and intentional that everyone within the ton sees it is quite another thing.”
“Again,” Lord Swinton replied, “it is to be expected with such a silly creature as she.” He laughed and slapped Jeffery on the shoulder again. “You are much too proper, Richmond: that is your only foible,” he chuckled as Jeffery shrugged him off. “Most other gentlemen would accept Lady Kensington’s attentions without hesitation, whereas you are quite determined not to do so.”
“Because it would not be right,” Jeffery replied, now a little irritated by his friend’s remark as well as his broad smile. “Now, where is Lord Kensington? I must go and greet him at once.”
Lord Swinton looked all about him and then shrugged. “I could not say,” he remarked. “You know how the gentleman is. Most likely, he will have dragged one of his guests to his study to review some dull papers of some sort. He loves his investments more than he loves these balls.”
“Perhaps,” Jeffery replied with a sigh before finishing off the rest of his brandy. “Well, if he is not here at present, then I should greet a few others before, as I presume it shall be, we are requested to listen to a few of the young ladies perform for our listening pleasure.” He chuckled at the grimace that appeared in an instant upon Lord Swinton’s face. “A favorite of yours, I think.”
“Mayhap I shall have to suggest a game of cards or the like, so that I will be excused from having to give them the entirety of my concentration,” Lord Swinton muttered, no longer grinning as he had done. “But yes, be off with you. There are bound to be a few young ladies eager to make your acquaintance!”
Jeffery laughed and then walked away, quickly spying another group of gentlemen—with one or two ladies present also—where he might make conversation. Thus, the evening went pleasantly enough and, when it grew near to the time for the music to begin and the entertainment to start, Jeffery found himself enjoying the spirit of the evening. He had forgotten entirely about Lady Kensington’s advances and had been enjoying an excellent conversation with another gentleman, as well as being introduced to a few lovely young ladies. All in all, it had been an excellent evening thus far, and he was looking forward to what came thereafter, even if Lord Swinton was not!
“Lord Richmond! I have only just discovered the whereabouts of my husband.” Lady Kensington came to stand directly in front of him, preventing him from taking a step further, and Jeffery was forced to stand before her as though he were the subject and she the ruler. “I know that you have not greeted him as yet and that you do very much wish to do so, and thus, I have made every effort to satisfy such a whim.” She laughed brightly and settled a hand on his arm. “He is in the study at present, with Lord Millerton, whom, I am sure, would be glad for a little relief.”
Jeffery hesitated. “I see. I should not like to step away from this evening’s entertainment, however,” he said. “Will your husband be joining us for that?”
Lady Kensington shrugged and looked away. “Who can tell?” she replied somewhat morosely. “I had thought he would attempt to be the host the beau monde expects, but it seems that, yet again, I am mistaken.”
Something tugged in Jeffery’s heart as he watched Lady Kensington. Despite her marked flirtations, there was, he considered, a small flicker of genuine frustration in her voice and her demeanor at present. It was clear that she did, in fact, find Lord Kensington’s absence to be something of an embarrassment, clearly aware that the ton considered him a less-than-suitable host who very often neglected his duties towards his guests. Even Jeffery knew of it, but it had never once stopped him from attending.
“Might you not send a footman to fetch him?” he asked doubtfully, but Lady Kensington quickly shook her head, a false brightness about her now as she suddenly took hold of the situation in place of her husband.
“Ladies and gentlemen,” she said, her voice filling the room. “Please, if you would come through, we might sit together for a short while as we are entertained by some of the most wonderfully talented young ladies in London!” A few murmurs of excitement and interest chased after her announcement. “Please, do come and join me.”
“Lord Kensington is not to appear, then,” said a voice in his ear, and Jeffery turned to see Lord Swinton chuckling as he moved past Jeffery slowly, a lady on his arm. “How very unsurprising.”
“Lady Kensington states that he is in his study,” Jeffery replied, joining his friend. “Mayhap I should go to speak with him and—”
“Do not be so foolish!” Lord Swinton exclaimed, suddenly rounding on Jeffery and letting go of the lady on his arm. “You cannot do such a thing, for it is not your duty. Lady Kensington will take his place, just as she has done before, and all will be well.”
“It was Lady Kensington herself who suggested I do so,” Jeffery replied, only for Lord Swinton to throw up his hands and
roll his eyes in apparent frustration.
“You are much too compassionate, old boy,” came the firm reply. “Can you not see that she fully intends to make use of your willingness to, perhaps, force her attentions on you?” He shook his head and pointed to the door. “That is the only place you ought to go at present. Do not allow your kind heart to be misled.”
Jeffery nodded slowly, fully aware that perhaps his heart was a little too sympathetic given the circumstances. He made to follow Lord Swinton through into the adjoining room, only to hesitate. Lady Kensington would not be able to follow him and certainly could have no intention of ‘forcing’ her attentions upon him given that she would be caught up with the responsibilities of ensuring her guests were comfortable and contented. Was he being much too harsh in his judgment of her?
“And I have not yet even greeted Lord Kensington,” Jeffery muttered, still feeling a nudge of guilt over the fact that he had been so very late in the first place. Seeing how Lord Swinton hurried to catch the lady he had been walking with and knowing full well that his friend would be all the more distracted by her, Jeffery took in a deep breath and made his decision.
“Lord Kensington?”
Rapping on the door lightly, Jeffery looked up and down the hallway but saw no staff. Was Lord Kensington within? Or had he gone elsewhere? A flurry of doubt ran through him as he knocked again, telling himself that he needed to return quickly to the drawing-room rather than remain here. Perhaps Lady Kensington had been mistaken. Her husband clearly was not where she believed him to be, and now he felt very foolish indeed for even attempting to do what she had suggested. Lord Swinton had been correct, it seemed. Jeffery’s heart was much too compassionate.
Sighing, he turned away and began to retrace his steps back to the drawing-room. He would have to slip back inside quietly so as not to draw attention to himself, but, given that most of the guests would be listening to whichever young lady was either singing or playing the pianoforte, that would not be too difficult.