by Alec, Joyce
“I shall be certain to find someone, of course,” Louisa replied hurriedly, hardly daring to believe that she had been successful in her endeavors as regarded her father. “You need not doubt that, with help from either yourself or my new companion, I shall be entirely successful.”
Her father passed a hand over his eyes, a small groan escaping from his mouth. He did not enjoy the Season, Louisa considered, although this was mostly due to the fact that he lost a lot of money playing cards and gambling when he ought not to do anything of the sort.
“Shall you search for a suitable companion for me, Father, or should I make some enquiries?” Louisa continued, when her father said nothing. She knew very little about how one went about finding a companion, but she was not about to let her father’s lack of decisiveness prevent her from succeeding. “We should go about it as quickly as possible, should we not?”
Lord Churston muttered something under his breath but then nodded, lifting his hand and looking at Louisa directly. “I shall take care of it, of course,” he replied, seeming now to be a little sullen. “Directly. You may go now, Louisa.”
Louisa, thrilled with the success of her endeavors, curtsied quickly and turned around, hurrying out of her father’s study for fear that he might stop her with a word and state that he had made a mistake. However, no such word came and Louisa was left with the delighted feeling that she had been completely and utterly successful. Clasping her hands together, she walked with quick, short steps, feeling as though she ought to write to Miss Grey immediately, to both thank her for her aid and her advice as well as to inform her that all was not lost, as she had first feared. She was to stay in London for the rest of the Season and now, it seemed, would have the correct sort of person beside her in order to improve and further her acquaintances. Surely there would be some gentleman from within the beau monde who might take an interest in her. Pausing for a moment, Louisa caught sight of her reflection in the mirror that hung in the hallway. She regarded herself, taking in her short, straight nose, her bright blue eyes, and dark hair that, today, had been pulled back into a simple chignon. Not overly pretty, mayhap, but what made things all the worse was the smattering of freckles that appeared over her nose and cheeks. Her lips twisted as she rubbed at one vainly, knowing that nothing she could do would remove them from her face. However, the way that she had conducted herself for the first few weeks of the Season had not been to her best advantage. She had been quiet and refrained, keeping back from the majority of the beau monde and feeling entirely uninteresting and rather dull. That had changed once she had met Miss Grey and for that, Louisa would be forever grateful.
A sigh left her lips as she turned away, climbing the staircase that led to her own bedchamber and, therein, her writing desk and quill. As she hurried within and shut the door behind her, Louisa felt some of her happiness return. She was about to embark on the next part of her Season refreshed and renewed. Who knew who she might encounter now? Her excitement began to grow as she seated herself and picked up her quill. She asked for neither love nor affection, but rather a practical companionship that would allow her to pass her years with genuine contentedness and, mayhap, a small fondness for the man she was to call husband. That was all she wished for, all that she hoped for. It would be more than enough for someone such as her, for a daughter of a baron—and one with freckles, at that—could not expect anything more.
2
A Sennight Later
“Well, Miss Smallwood, might I say that you look quite delightful.”
Louisa nodded, smiled, and looked across at her companion. “Thank you, Miss Martin,” she replied, thinking that this new companion of hers was certainly very complimentary, for this was now the fourth time she had commented on Louisa’s appearance. Miss Martin had only just left London, accompanying her prior charge, a Miss McBride, back to her father’s house, where the girl was soon to be married. This in itself was an excellent commendation and upon hearing of it from the girl’s father and his acquaintance, Viscount Whitaker, Baron Churston had hurriedly ensured that Miss Martin was immediately taken into his employ. She had, therefore, had to make her way back to London, having only just left it, but made no comment about her tiredness or the difficulties of such a long journey. Instead, she had been nothing but pleasant in her manner and most complimentary of Louisa. If things continued on as they were, then Louisa had no doubt that they would all rub along well enough together for the duration of the Season, and part of her prayed that whatever Miss Martin had done to aid Miss McBride in finding a husband, she might do the same for her.
Louisa turned her attention back to the full ballroom, feeling a slight pang of sadness over the loss of her dear friend, Miss Grey. “This is to be our first social outing together, is it not?”
Miss Martin nodded, although a light smile dusted her lips. “It is, indeed,” she replied calmly. “But you need not have any concern that I shall fail in my duties. I know precisely what is required of me.”
Louisa blinked, a little taken aback. “I had not even thought of such a thing, I assure you,” she said quickly, wondering if Miss Martin believed that she had, somehow, made an unfavorable impression. “I trust you absolutely, of course, as does my father.” She smiled as warmly as she could at Miss Martin, seeing how the lady relaxed just a little. The line between the lady’s brows began to flatten, pushing itself away, and her eyes cleared just a touch. Louisa studied her companion for another moment or two, taking in the lady’s sharp, brown eyes and the way that her thick, dark hair was pulled back tightly, accentuating her angular face. Miss Martin was not at all old, but evidently old enough to be considered a spinster, although Louisa was quite certain that should the lady be given the opportunity, she could appear quite beautiful in her own way. In fact, when she had first been introduced to Miss Martin, she had been struck by just how youthful the lady was, although she had not, of course, asked any impertinent questions. The same curiosity that had been there before began to rise within her again, making her wonder if Miss Martin had been forced, by way of circumstance, to become a companion or if she had been forced to do so by another. Louisa had very little knowledge of Miss Martin’s family and her past circumstances and inwardly resolved that, as their acquaintance grew, she would do her best to discover them.
“Now,” Miss Martin began, a little briskly as though to disrupt Louisa’s thoughts, “there are many gentlemen here this evening but not all of them will be suitable. It is good that I have been present in London prior to this, Miss Smallwood, for my knowledge of the gentlemen here this evening will be of great use.” She threw a glance towards Louisa, who was surprised at the stern expression that was now upon Miss Martin’s face. “You should look to me before you accept any gentleman’s request to sign your dance card. Do I make myself clear?”
Louisa blinked in surprise, stumbling over her words as she tried to agree. In one moment, Miss Martin had turned from a sweet, soft-spoken lady to a sharp-eyed, tight-lipped woman whom Louisa did not dare question.
“Good,” Miss Martin replied, looking across the room and, with a small nod to herself, beginning to walk further into the ballroom with Louisa hurriedly keeping up beside her. “Then we should have no difficulty whatsoever. Oh, and before I forget, there is one more thing I must state.” Turning, she stopped dead and looked directly into Louisa’s eyes, her brows lowering and turning her expression almost malevolent. “You must always return to me the moment your dance is at an end, Miss Smallwood. Do you understand? You should not tarry for even a moment and never once continue the conversation with the gentleman by your side without returning to where I am waiting.”
This, however, made Louisa frown. Miss Grey would not have done such a thing, for she had been bold and determined, and was quite content to continue a conversation with a pleasing gentleman should there be the opportunity to do so.
“I shall not leave the ballroom with a gentleman, if that is what you are concerned about,” she replied slowly,
seeing how Miss Martin’s eyes flashed suddenly. “But I can see no reason why I should not continue to speak with a gentleman should he wish to do so. Surely you would be able to follow wherever I am gone, for it would only be in the confines of the ballroom and therefore, within plain sight of everyone else. I am not inclined to—”
“Miss Smallwood, I have been hired by your father to ensure that you find a suitable husband,” Miss Martin interrupted, ignoring the fact that there were gentlemen and ladies surrounding them both and instead continuing this strange conversation without even a momentary hesitation. “I intend to do just that. That means that you are required to do as I ask.”
Louisa twisted her lips to one side, her brows furrowing together. She did not much like the feeling of being kept on a rope, being hauled back to Miss Martin whenever a dance was at an end. Did Miss Martin not think her trustworthy?
“As I was about to state, Miss Martin, I am not inclined to disappear with a gentleman without consideration,” she said, trying to inject confidence into her voice and recalling how Miss Grey had shown her how to find such a strength within herself. “If a conversation is enjoyable and if the gentleman wishes to continue it, I can see no difficulty with me doing so. After all, you will have already approved of the gentleman, therefore there can be no particular difficulty if I choose to remain a little longer in his company.” She did not wait for Miss Martin to say anything more, giving her companion a quick smile and then turning away, making quick, hasty steps which managed to give the impression that she had seen someone she wished to converse with. Louisa’s gaze darted from one side of the room to the other, still inwardly astonished by the sharpness of Miss Martin’s voice and the hard expression she had worn. Had something occurred before which had made Miss Martin so wary? Surely not, for her previous charge was now engaged. There could be no earthly reason for Miss Martin to think so little of her, to have such a distrust that she expected Louisa to somehow throw herself at a gentleman without consideration, to the point that she was now insisting that Louisa return to her side immediately, like an obedient dog. It was a most unusual demand and certainly not one that Louisa would agree to. Yet again, she sent up a silent prayer of thanks for her friend Miss Grey and for the courage and the determination that she had helped blossom within Louisa’s heart. Without her, Louisa might now find herself standing quietly and in complete obedience next to Miss Martin instead of forging her own path into society.
“Ah, Miss Smallwood.”
With a grateful smile, Louisa greeted one of her acquaintances, Miss Buxton.
“Good evening, Miss Buxton,” she replied, dropping into a curtsy, which the lady returned. “It is a wonderful evening, is it not?”
“Indeed,” Miss Buxton murmured, as Louisa felt the presence of Miss Martin beside her, although the lady kept back just a little. “Now, allow me to introduce you to these gentlemen approaching, for I am certain you will enjoy their company.”
Louisa kept her head up and her eyes clear, putting a light smile on her face as not one, but three gentlemen approached Miss Buxton, bowing as one as they did so. Miss Buxton was not remarkably pretty, with rather dull brown hair that hung about her face in a less than charming manner, an overly long nose, and a lackluster smile, but she was also the daughter of a rich viscount and boasted a large dowry that would attract any number of gentlemen.
“Good evening,” Miss Buxton said, greeting each gentleman in turn. “And might I present to you Miss Louisa Smallwood, daughter of Baron Churston.” She gestured towards Louisa and, once again, spoke the three gentlemen’s names and titles to Louisa, whilst she curtsied and they bowed. There was a Viscount Broadbent, who was tall, thin, and carried himself with an air of arrogance, a Baron Manson, who hailed from Scotland and seemed to constantly have an overly large grin plastered on his face, and last came a Viscount Montague, who did not smile but merely bowed and looked away with an evident lack of interest.
Louisa sighed heavily within herself, thinking that these introductions, whilst she was most grateful for them, would not bring her the sort of delights she had hoped for.
“Might I enquire as to whether your dance card is…?” The Baron did not finish his question but continued to grin inanely at her and, with a small, quick sigh, Louisa held it out to him and tried to look grateful. Soon, her card held the names of all three gentlemen, although they each only signed their name for one dance and not two, for which, in a way, Louisa was most grateful. She was not relishing the opportunity to dance with each of the gentlemen before her, thinking that none of them exhibited any immediate interest in her.
“And are you here with your father, Miss Smallwood?”
Louisa looked up at Viscount Montague, seeing how his grey eyes flickered with what seemed to be a small amount of curiosity.
“Yes, of course,” she replied, suddenly recalling that Miss Martin was also present. “He is within the ballroom somewhere, although most likely, he has sought out the card room by now.” She tried to laugh, but given that Lord Montague did not give even the smallest of smiles in her direction, the sound cracked the moment it left her lips.
“Do you know Baron Churston, Lord Montague?” Miss Buxton asked, seemingly now rather interested in this particular conversation. “I was not aware that you knew him.”
Viscount Montague cleared his throat, his gaze seemingly drawn to something of interest just to his left. “I know of the baron, yes,” he admitted eventually. “But I have never been introduced to his daughter before this evening.” He drew his gaze back towards Louisa again, before snapping his heels together and inclining his head. “If you will excuse me, I am engaged for this next dance. Until later this evening, Miss Smallwood.”
“Lord Montague.” Louisa bobbed a quick curtsy, wondering if Lord Montague knew her father well and, therefore, was aware of just how little he cared about his daughter’s wellbeing. Or mayhap they had been involved in one of the many betting and gambling games that her father had partaken in over the last few weeks of the Season.
“Might I have a word, Miss Smallwood?”
Louisa jumped visibly, turning her head to see Miss Martin glaring at her, her eyes filled with an anger that Louisa could not quite understand.
“I am currently conversing with—”
“Now, Miss Smallwood.”
Utterly shocked at the behavior of Miss Martin, Louisa discovered that she had no other choice but to follow her companion, who began to weave in and out of the crowd, evidently expecting Louisa to follow her. Confused and embarrassed, she begged Miss Buxton to excuse her and followed after the lady, wondering what it was that had upset Miss Martin so. A stab of guilt to her heart made Louisa realize that she had failed in her promise to glance at Miss Martin before accepting any gentleman’s request to dance with her but, given that each gentleman had only offered her one dance this evening, surely there was nothing to be overly concerned about? Again, Louisa reminded herself that she had every reason to be confident in her own decisions and her own desires. Her companion was not to demand that Louisa did as she asked, for she was there to guide and encourage only. Anything more was overstepping the bounds of her employment.
“Yes, Miss Martin?” she asked, as the lady whirled about to face her, having led Louisa to a quieter part of the ballroom, where she now stood, next to the wall. “What is it? If it is to berate me for my lack of obedience when it came to accepting those gentlemen’s offer of writing their name on my dance card, I can only apologize. I quite forgot.” She offered an easy yet apologetic smile. “It is going to take a little time to become used to such a thing.”
Miss Martin’s brows furrowed, her expression dark in the shadowy light that surrounded them both.
“How dare you,” Miss Martin hissed, taking a small step closer to Louisa. “How dare you behave with such wantonness!”
Louisa stared at her companion before laughing aloud, unable to help herself. The suggestion that she had behaved with any such impropriety
was quite ridiculous. “I have not shown any such shamelessness, Miss Martin,” she replied with a shake of her head. “I have accepted three gentlemen’s offers to dance with me and that is all. They have not behaved improperly and certainly are not cads or rogues, else Miss Buxton would not have introduced them to me.”
Miss Martin shook her head, her lips thin and flat. “You have no knowledge of these gentlemen, Miss Smallwood.”
“I have knowledge of my friend, Miss Buxton,” Louisa replied quickly, even though her heart was beginning to quicken with a fright that she could not explain. “I know that she would not introduce me to any gentlemen that were unseemly for one reason or another.” Feeling a spike of anger slam hard into her chest, igniting a spark within her, Louisa drew in a long breath and tried to make sure she spoke with calm eloquence. “What is it that you fear, Miss Martin? Do you fear that I shall behave improperly?”
“Yes,” Miss Martin replied with a hiss. “That is precisely what I fear, Miss Smallwood. In your desperation, you will do whatever you can to gain a gentleman’s favor, is that not so?”
A cold hand gripped Louisa’s heart, washing ice over her completely. “Desperation?” she repeated, blinking rapidly to keep a sudden flurry of tears from her eyes. “I may be many things, Miss Martin, but I am not so eager for a husband that I should behave improperly with any of them.” She shook her head, beginning to fear that this companion of hers would bring more difficulty than good. “I have no intention of behaving with anything other than absolute propriety, Miss Martin. You may have what you believe is an understanding of my current predicament and, no doubt, have heard many things from my father, but you have made an incorrect judgment if you believe that I shall do anything other than behave as I ought. I am not so desperate as to fling myself into the arms of any gentleman I choose, in the hope that a marriage proposal, whether forced or of his choosing, comes thereafter.” Her cheeks were burning now, seeing how Miss Martin’s eyes had narrowed in evident disbelief. “I would appreciate it if you would remove such a heavy hand from my shoulders. Else I believe our acquaintance, such as it is, might have to come to an end.”