A Gentleman's Revenge (The Spinsters Guild, #3)

by Pearson, Rose

  “Forgive me,” he stammered, reaching for it and hurriedly finding another space on the dance card so he might have two dances with the lovely Miss Marks. “I was distracted.”

  Miss Marks smiled tightly. “As am I,” she replied with an ease of manner that behooved her. She took a small step closer to him as the first strains of the next dance began to wind over them both. “That is Lady Smithton, is it not?” Her voice was low, her eyes a little wide with surprise—the same surprise he felt that Miss Crosby was the one greeting Lady Smithton so warmly.

  “Indeed it is,” he murmured, seeing how Miss Marks’ brows rose. “I did not know your cousin was acquainted with her.”

  “Nor did I,” Miss Marks answered with a small shrug. “I simply must be introduced to her.” Smiling at him, she tipped her head and allowed a coy smile to cross her face. “Would you wish an introduction also? I would not mind in the least being introduced at the same time as you.”

  He nodded, trying to smile but feeling a sense of unease at the situation he now found himself in. Miss Marks was clearly quite at ease within his company already, even though they had only just been introduced. It could not be this easy,... could it?

  However, within a few minutes, Daniel found himself being pulled from his thoughts and, thereafter, being introduced to Lady Smithton, who accepted his greeting with a small smile and a quick curtsy. Her eyes were shrewd as she studied him openly, leaving Daniel feeling rather ill at ease. He did not want anyone to look at him in such a way for fear they would see within his heart and know precisely what his intentions were. Clearing his throat, he made to excuse himself from their company, only for Lady Smithton to stop him.

  “You have only just been introduced to Miss Marks, I hear,” she said brightly as Daniel began to nod slowly. “How wonderful. And are you to dance with her this evening?”

  Miss Marks giggled and held out her dance card as though Lady Smithton could read it from where she stood.

  “Of course,” she answered as if Lady Smithton should have expected such a thing. “Two, in fact!”

  “Two!” Lady Smithton turned back to Daniel, a wide smile on her face. “How very lovely. And what of you, Miss Crosby?”

  For a moment, the room seemed to fall silent. Miss Crosby said nothing, her mouth opening and closing like a fish whilst her eyes stared fixedly at a point on the wall just to the left of Daniel’s head.

  “I—I had not yet spoken to Miss Crosby,” Daniel found himself saying as though he had, of course, had every intention of seeking out Miss Crosby’s dance card thereafter but had been interrupted by the arrival of Lady Smithton. In truth, he had not even thought of Miss Crosby, presuming she did not have a dance card given she was a mere companion to her cousin.

  Lady Smithton’s smile remained on her face. “Oh, I am truly sorry if my arrival interrupted your intentions,” she replied, gesturing towards Miss Crosby. “Do carry on now. I shall be glad to wait.” Lifting her chin just a little and fixing her piercing blue eyes upon his gray ones, Lady Smithton set her hands together in front of her and waited. Miss Crosby, on the other hand, was quite pale with a single spot of red on each cheek, and she appeared to be trying to look in any place other than his face.

  Daniel knew he did not have any other choice but to now dance with Miss Crosby, even if he did not wish to.

  “Yes, Miss Crosby, if you would permit me, I should like to look at your dance card also.”

  Miss Crosby closed her eyes tightly, her hands trembling as she tugged a dance card out from a small pocket hidden in the swathes of her gown. Opening her eyes and daring a small, apologetic glance in his direction, she handed it to him and then stepped back as if wanting to put as much distance between them as she could.

  “Ah, yes, the cotillion should suit very well,” Daniel said as warmly as he could. “What say you to that, Miss Crosby?”

  Miss Crosby nodded and murmured something unintelligible.

  “I see you appear to favor Miss Marks, Lord Ruddington,” Lady Smithton said as he made to hand back the card to Miss Crosby. “Two dances for her and one for Miss Crosby. My, my.” She tipped her head, her smile no longer holding any warmth. “A good piece of gossip to chew over there, I think.”

  Daniel frowned hard, not entirely sure what Lady Smithton meant by such a remark but fearing it would bring a good many consequences for him. He could not be seen to be hurrying Miss Marks forward, not when his plan would take him some time to bring to its fulfillment. There could be no gossip, no whispers, and no doubting of his character. Lord Britton, Miss Marks’ father, could not have reason to doubt him and to forbid his daughter from associating with Daniel. That would bring everything to a sudden and sharp end.

  “The second waltz, mayhap?” Lady Smithton murmured, her voice just reaching him and no more. “Given it appears Miss Crosby has it free.”

  Daniel’s frown darkened all the more, although he did as Lady Smithton had asked and wrote his name down on the second waltz for Miss Crosby, before practically throwing it back at her. Miss Crosby’s pallor was gray but Lady Smithton merely smiled, her chin lifted, and her eyes narrowed and sharp.

  “Until later this evening, Miss Crosby, Miss Marks.” Bowing low and wondering why Lady Smithton was being so forcible in her manner, Daniel turned on his heel and began to move through the crowd, wanting to get as far away from Lady Smithton as he could. He did not much like her, he considered, and certainly did not appreciate her interference with Miss Crosby! He had not wanted to dance with Miss Crosby and still had no inclination to do so—but it seemed he was to have no choice. Sighing heavily, Daniel resisted the urge to groan aloud, knowing he had to keep up a contented and happy appearance. At the very least, he had managed to secure an introduction to Miss Marks, and that, he told himself, was all that mattered. From now on, his attention had to be entirely focused on unfolding his plan, step by step, until it reached its final, devastating conclusion. A grim smile crossed his face as he thought of it. He would have satisfaction in his way, given that society had ripped the opportunity from him. All would be made right, one way or the other. Daniel was going to make sure of it.

  Chapter Three

  Sarah was not at all pleased.

  In fact, she was highly embarrassed even though it was the day after the ball and she was now being introduced to one Lord Havisham, who was looking about the now four young ladies who were seated in Lady Smithton’s drawing-room with surprise etching itself across his features.

  “‘The Spinsters Guild!’” Lady Smithton cried as though this was the most excellent of names a group could ever wish for. “Lord Havisham, these four young ladies have all come to seek my help in finding them a suitable husband—although society need not know this is our true intention!” She looked at him triumphantly, whilst Lord Havisham, Sarah noted, appeared a little stunned. “And you shall help us!”

  “Of—of course,” Lord Havisham stammered, bowing to each lady in turn in clear confusion. “Although what it is I can do to aid you, I cannot quite understand.”

  Lady Smithton smiled knowingly and sent a questioning glance towards Sarah, who did not return her smile. “I am certain I will find you many things to do, Lord Havisham,” she told him, her smile fading as she held Sarah’s gaze. “In fact, you might first attend with Miss Crosby and me when we go to the dressmaker’s in an hour’s time.”

  Lord Havisham nodded but said nothing, although Sarah suspected the last thing he wanted to do was attend at a dressmaker’s and help Lady Smithton pick out the best gowns for her four charges. She looked about her, seeing Miss Bavidge flushed with evident excitement, followed by Lady Amelia and Lady Beatrice, who were two new additions to the group. She did not know them particularly well as yet, but Sarah felt a sense of kinship rise up within her, knowing they all understood the particular predicament they were in.

  “Tea, I think,” Lady Smithton said, clapping her hands together and appearing quite delighted with how things were progressing.
“And then onto the dressmakers with you, Miss Crosby!”

  Sarah tried to smile but did not quite manage to do so. The embarrassment of last evening still lingered, for the way Lord Ruddington had treated her with first not even acknowledging she might have a dance card, and then being practically forced to write down his name for not one but two dances, had left her utterly mortified. What had made it all the worse was that he had not appeared for their second dance—the waltz—and she had been left standing to one side whilst her cousin had danced with yet another gentleman, enjoying every moment.

  It had not been so for her. Lord Ruddington, when he had first knocked into her, had been both apologetic and considerate. She had managed to speak to him calmly, collecting herself as best she could, and had found, for some inexplicable reason, her heart fluttering when he had taken her hand to help her up. Even now, she could still feel that same sense of awareness of his presence, recalling how she had looked up into his gray eyes and found her mouth going dry. He was a handsome gentleman, to be sure, but the fact that he had deigned himself to converse with her thereafter had made her think him quite wonderful.

  That had evaporated the moment he had asked her for an introduction to her cousin. She had berated herself as she led him towards Miss Marks, reminding herself repeatedly that she was nothing more than a plain, dull companion who did not get a second glance from any gentleman. Lord Ruddington had been kind and friendly, but it soon became clear he was simply being polite. He had wanted to be introduced to, speak to and dance with, Miss Marks, and that was precisely what he had done.

  And yet, her mind still fixed itself upon him. Tall, with broad shoulders, a long straight nose, and a square jaw, she had found herself breathless in his arms as they had danced the cotillion. Even though he had not smiled, even though his eyes had remained fixed and steely, she had found herself caught up in a whirlwind of sensation whenever their gloved hands had met.

  Foolishness. Nothing more than foolishness.

  “Miss Crosby?”

  Lady Smithton came and plopped herself down in the chair next to Sarah, her eyes holding a good deal of curiosity. That was one thing Sarah was swiftly coming to learn about Lady Smithton. She did not hold her true emotions back from the world, did not hide them away. They were there, plain, for all to see and to understand. And at the present moment, it was plain that Lady Smithton wanted to understand why Sarah appeared so dejected.

  “Good afternoon, Lady Smithton.”

  “Good afternoon.” Lady Smithton said nothing more but simply sat in her chair, her hands folded gently in her lap. Sarah could feel the tension in her shoulders, knowing Lady Smithton wanted her to say something about the obvious difficulties of the prior evening, but Sarah did not know how to begin.

  “I—I found last evening to be rather trying,” Sarah began, cautiously. “I—I feel as though I—”

  “I thought you did very well,” Lady Smithton interrupted, one eyebrow lifting slowly. “You do not feel as though you accomplished anything, mayhap?”

  Again, Sarah hesitated. “If I am to speak bluntly, Lady Smithton, I found my interaction with Lord Ruddington to be more than a little humiliating.”

  Lady Smithton blinked slowly but did not seem surprised.

  “He—he spoke to me, yes, I grant you, but he showed no interest in me once he discovered I was cousins with Miss Marks and was accompanying her through London,” Sarah continued, not holding back the truth from Lady Smithton but deciding to be quite honest with her. “To then have him forced to dance with me was more than I could stand, Lady Smithton. I felt as though I were caught in between two steadfastly unmoving objects, being squashed from either side.”

  “You mean, you believed Lord Ruddington did not want to dance with you a second time,” Lady Smithton said plainly. “Although if it had not been for me, you would not have enjoyed a single dance with the gentleman.” She looked at Miss Crosby, a little confused. “I thought you wished to improve your standing within society, to try to seek out a husband.”

  “It is my desire,” Sarah insisted, “but I do not wish for a gentleman to be forced into conversing or dancing with me when it is clear he does not have any interest in me but rather is solely interested in my cousin!” She shook her head, feeling her cheeks burning with embarrassment all over again. “He did not even come near me for the second dance, Lady Smithton.”

  The look on Lady Smithton’s face immediately began to change. Instead of the calm, understanding expression, there then came a dark frown and a steely glint in Lady Smithton’s eye.

  “Do you mean to say Lord Ruddington did not attend you for your second dance of the evening?” Lady Smithton asked, sounding utterly horrified. “You were left to stand alone and wait for him?”

  Sarah swallowed hard, wishing she had not said anything at all. Now it appeared Lady Smithton considered Lord Ruddington’s behavior to be entirely unacceptable and Sarah had the uncomfortable feeling that she would insist such a slight was apologized for.

  “I did not mind,” she said hastily as Lady Smithton shook her head to herself. “Truly, I did not. It is something I am well used to, for no gentleman has ever really looked at me before.” A small shrug lifted one shoulder as the dull ache came back into her heart. “It is not something that need concern you, Lady Smithton, for it does not bring any sorrow to my own heart.”

  Lady Smithton leaned forward in her seat, her expression fixed. “That is not the truth, now is it, Miss Crosby?”

  Sarah opened her mouth to protest, only for Lady Smithton to hold up one hand to silence her.

  “Do not tell me you feel no sadness nor shame over Lord Ruddington’s behavior, for whilst you may tell me you are well used to it and the like, I do not believe you feel nothing whatsoever.” A knowing look came into her eyes as Sarah tried to hold Lady Smithton’s gaze, aware of the heat growing within her chest as she tried to hide her true feelings from the lady. “You must no longer pretend such things, Miss Crosby. I will not have it.”

  Sarah swallowed hard, turning her head away.

  “Things are to be different now, my dear.” Lady Smithton’s voice had softened, her words kind. “You cannot allow your prior expectations to shape your future. You should not simply accept Lord Ruddington’s slight, believing that is it all you should expect, all you deserve. Instead, you should permit yourself to feel anger, or upset, or sorrow over his actions. And I shall ensure, whether you wish it or not, Miss Crosby, that such an action is remedied.”

  Sarah’s heart burst to life. “Oh, please, do not!” she exclaimed, turning back to Lady Smithton at once. “There is no need to do so.”

  “There is every need,” Lady Smithton replied evenly. “Do you think others would not have noticed your slight? Do you believe you are the only one who has noticed it?” She shook her head. “Such a thing cannot be allowed to stand, else other gentlemen of the ton might consider you to be as easily dismissed as Lord Ruddington has thought you to be. No, Miss Crosby, you are to be treated with the respect you deserve. You are my friend, and therefore, I shall ensure you receive the appropriate apology.”

  Sarah did not know what to say. The thought of having to face Lord Ruddington again, of having Lady Smithton force him to apologize for what she was certain had been simply an oversight since she was neither important nor memorable, brought a fresh wave of embarrassment crashing over her. What made it worse was there was something about Lord Ruddington that drew her towards him, even though he had treated her ill. It was quite inexplicable and not something she wished to discuss with anyone.

  “Now, shall we go to the dressmakers as planned?” Lady Smithton asked with the very same gentleness in her voice that had been there only a few minutes before. “You must look your best for Lord Taylor’s soiree tomorrow evening. I am quite certain Lord Ruddington will be present also.”

  Sarah let out a long breath, seeing Lord Havisham rise, and Miss Bavidge with him. They were to go to the dressmaker, to have new g
owns in the hope that this might, in itself, encourage gentlemen to look twice at her, but given how Lord Ruddington had treated her, Sarah feared it would do nothing at all. She would still be unremarkable, staid, dull, and entirely forgettable. A gown would change nothing.

  “Yes, I am quite ready.” Sarah got to her feet, knowing there was nothing else to do but agree, despite her feelings on the matter. Miss Bavidge was quite excited about moving things forward whilst she felt no such delight. Pasting a smile on her face, trying to show a happiness she did not feel, Sarah set her shoulders and tried to put every thought of Lord Ruddington out of her mind.

  ***

  “What do you think of this?”

  Lord Havisham let out a long sigh and ran one hand over his face, clearly both weary and exasperated.

  “Come now, Lord Havisham,” Lady Smithton cajoled, a teasing expression on her face. “You are meant to be giving us a gentleman’s opinion. After all, these gowns are meant to be of the highest fashion, and you know very well I want Miss Crosby to shine.”

  Sarah, who was clad in the most beautiful, softest gown she had ever had the chance to wear, glanced at herself in the full-length mirror and caught her breath. She did not look like herself. She barely recognized her reflection. Instead of wearing a high necked, gray gown, she was wearing one of a most fashionable cut, which showed a good deal more décolletage than she was used to but seemed to cling to her curves in what Sarah considered an inappropriate manner. It was also an emerald green shade, which Lady Smithton had insisted would bring out some of the reddish shades in her otherwise brown hair.

  Sarah had, of course, protested a little when the dressmaker had first put her into this gown, but Lady Smithton had waved the protests away. The gown was the perfect fit, she had said, and certainly a good deal more improved than the ones Sarah was used to wearing.

  Although, given Lord Havisham’s reaction, Sarah did not feel a good deal of confidence.