by Quinn, Ella
Euphrosyne asked Miss Appleby if her sisters’ matches had been arranged. “No, Papa said he did not wish to marry any of us off to men we might not like.”
“Indeed,” Miss Caroline added. “My father said that he would not be responsible if we were unhappy in our marriages.”
“Laia will be marrying soon as well,” Euphrosyne said. “To Bolton.”
The other ladies looked at Laia, and she wished her sister had not mentioned her betrothal.
“The Duke of Bolton?” Miss Applebee asked.
“Yes.” Laia did not wish to discuss a man about whom she knew almost nothing.
“Is he not quite elderly?” Miss Caroline asked slowly, as if afraid to broach the topic.
“He is in his sixties.” For the first time, Laia acknowledged to herself that she wished he were not quite so old.
“Still,” Miss Applebee said, “he is a duke. How did you meet him?”
“She has not met him at all.” Euphrosyne glanced at Laia. “Our father arranged the match.” Her sister took a sip of the water and made a face. “I think it is quite medieval.”
If Laia didn’t die of embarrassment first, she was going to murder her sister. “Euphrosyne—”
“Laia, come stroll with me.” Meg rose.
I will not run away. “Not yet, if you please.” She turned to the other ladies. “I wish my father had not arranged a match with a gentleman I do not know, but it is my duty to obey him.”
“Well said, Lady Laia.” Mrs. Butterworth frowned at her daughter. “Caroline, we must be going.”
Once the ladies left, Meg took Laia’s arm while her mother spoke in a low voice to her sister.
“I do not know why she would have brought up my betrothal,” Laia said to her sister-in-law. “She has never done anything to humiliate me before.”
“Is that how you see being betrothed to Bolton?” Meg asked.
Was it? Laia had no say in the matter, and no one, even her new friends, appeared to be happy for her. Bolton had not even written to her. And she had not liked the things he had sent to her.
She gave herself a shake. “I don’t know how I feel about it. Perhaps I’m simply nervous.”
Her sister-in-law nodded. “You still have time.”
“That is what others have said, but it is not true. Whether I wish to marry Bolton or not, I am stuck with him.”
An older lady in a pink turban glanced at them, and Meg inclined her head, then gave Laia an enigmatic smile. “We shall see.”
When they arrived home, Euphrosyne hurried up to Laia. “Forgive me. I did not mean to embarrass you. I just wanted you to understand how unsuitable this marriage is.”
“That was not the way to go about it.” Laia heaved a sigh. “And what would you have me do? If I do not marry him, it would affect you and our sisters. Father would never let you out of the castle.”
“I don’t know.” Concern clouded her eyes. “Someone must be able to help. I want you to be happy.”
“What must happen is for you to cease worrying about what cannot be changed.” She took her sister’s arm. “I shall be fine.”
Yet she did not feel fine, and she could not put her finger on the reason she had become so uneasy about her coming marriage. Her father had written saying Bolton would visit her before their wedding. Yet he had not bothered to do her the courtesy of writing to her. Was he avoiding her? And if he was why would he? Laia gave herself a shake. She would refuse to allow herself to worry until there was a reason to be concerned.
Fortunately, the next time they met up with the Butterworths and Applebees, the subject was not mentioned and she and her sister were able to form friendships with the other ladies.
During the week before the assembly room ball, Laia and Euphrosyne scarcely had time to think. They were invited to dinner by both Mrs. Applebee and Mrs. Butterworth. Mr. Paulet invited their new friends as well as Lord Markham and his family to a picnic on Lansdowne. Mama, Euphrosyne, Meg, Hawksworth, and Laia drove over to visit the children. Her brothers and sisters were having a wonderful time exploring their new environs.
The evening before the ball, Sarah hosted a dinner. “It is the first time I have given an entertainment,” she confided to Laia. “I do hope it all goes well. Unfortunately, I do not know any gentleman who I can ask to make up my numbers.”
In the end, it had not mattered. The evening was a great deal of fun. Laia wondered what it would be like to host her first dinner. Unfortunately, when she thought of the gentleman standing next to her in the receiving line, it was not the Duke of Bolton, but his nephew, Mr. Paulet.
At all the events, Mr. Paulet flirted with Laia. She was learning to flirt back, and having much too much fun. In more quiet moments—when they were walking or riding—they discussed their families, carefully avoiding any mention of the duke. And despite her resolve, she found herself drawn to him more and more. It was difficult to remember she was betrothed to a man who had not even bothered to meet her while Mr. Paulet was being charming and attentive.
There was also more shopping to do, along with fittings for new ball gowns and morning visits. If this was what the end of the winter season in Bath was like, she wondered how much more there was to do in London.
By the night of the ball, Laia had still not heard from her betrothed, and the irritation that had begun the first day she’d attended the Pump Room grew. She was starting to wonder if she could be civil to a man who had so studiously ignored her.
Chapter 9
The evening of her first ball finally arrived, and Laia stared at herself in the mirror, scarcely believing it was her. Her new gown was the color of the aquamarine ring her mother had given her for her last birthday. Bands of brilliants trimmed the neck, sleeves, and hem. Henderson, her new maid, had done Laia’s hair in a complicated style of braids and soft ringlets.
Laia could not help but wonder what Mr. Paulet would think, then chastised herself for it. She should not be thinking about a gentleman other than her betrothed. Still, it would be pleasant to have a man look at her like her brother looked at her sister-in-law.
“Laia.” Euphrosyne opened the door without knocking. “Look at me! Ooooh, look at you!”
“I do think I look well, and so do you.” Laia smiled. Her sister was a vision in a pink gown and a white petticoat. Seed pearls adorned the neckline of the bodice and the sleeves. “You are lovely.”
“You’re beautiful.” Her sister carefully bussed her cheek. “All the gentleman will want to dance with you.
“You as well. Do you think you’ll be sitting along the sides of the room?”
For the first time, Euphrosyne’s eyes did not meet Laia’s gaze. Well, this was not the time to pry, but to enjoy themselves.
Then her sister did offer a comment, if not the one on her mind. “No. I think our family will make sure we have partners for every dance.”
Meg strolled into the room carrying two small posies, one with yellow flowers and the other with pale pink roses, both in filigree silver holders. “I do not know why gentlemen insist on sending flowers to be carried to an event. I suppose you can put some of them in your hair, if you like.”
Gentlemen? “Which gentlemen?” Laia eyed the flowers.
“Lord Markham”—Meg handed the pink bouquet to Euphrosyne—“and Mr. Paulet.” She gave the other one to Laia. “I must say they were either amazingly percipient, or they went out of their way to discover what you were wearing.”
Laia clutched her flowers to her breast. He had actually given her flowers and meant for her to carry them. “I could not ruin the arrangement.”
“Nor could I,” her sister agreed.
“In that case, you must carry them,” Meg said. “If you are ready, we must dine. The balls here begin much earlier than anywhere else I’ve been. Damon has ordered the chairs to arrive in an hour.”
Laia had wondered what it would be like to ride in a sedan chair. Yet, she’d felt sorry for the carriers holding the handles of th
e chair of an extremely heavy woman they had seen the other day. It was a marvel they hadn’t dropped the lady.
“Will you ride with Hawksworth?”
“No, it is the custom for gentlemen to walk alongside the chairs. If they are healthy enough to do so, that is.”
She wondered if Bolton would be able to walk.
When they reached the hall, she glanced around and finally found her mother in a day dress. “Why aren’t you dressed?”
“I have a little bit of a headache.” Mama held out her hands. “I am sure I shall feel better in the morning. I wanted to see you and Euphrosyne before I went to my room. You are both so beautiful. I wish I could be there to see your success.”
“I wish you could as well.” Laia hugged her mother, thinking she seemed sad somehow.
“I’m glad you came to see us in our finery.” Her sister kissed Mama’s cheek. “We shall tell you all about it in the morning.”
“I shall look forward to hearing all about your first ball. Now get something to eat, or you will be starving before tea.”
“With all the gentlemen sure to be present, I should bring a cane,” Hawksworth grumbled. “And use it like Lady Bellamny uses hers.”
Laia shook her head. “Who is that?”
Meg chuckled. “Lady Bellamny is an old friend of my mother’s. She uses her cane to intimidate young men.” Meg gazed lovingly at Hawksworth. “I do not think you will have any difficulty making sure the gentlemen behave.”
“I am famished.” Euphrosyne moved toward the dining room. “I was so excited I could not eat luncheon.”
Soup and a cold collation were set out for them, as well as salads. “I do not know if I can eat a thing now.” Laia took a sip of the soup and changed her mind. “On the other hand, this is excellent.”
“Is there anything we should know about the ball?” her sister asked.
“I think you already know everything you need to know,” Meg said reassuringly.
“I think this is an excellent time to review the rules,” Hawksworth said, as Meg cast her eyes to the ceiling. “Do not speak to anyone to whom you have not been introduced. Do not go anywhere on your own. If a gentleman does not behave as he should, you will tell me immediately. If you turn down some poor fellow, you may not dance again. Do not dance with any man more than twice. And if either Meg or I decide you should not be introduced to a gentleman, you will not argue.” He gave them a stern look. “These assemblies are not as exclusive as Almack’s, and some men are in Bath visiting relatives because they cannot afford to remain in Town.”
“Is that what Frank calls taking a repairing lease?” Laia asked.
“Precisely.” Her brother nodded.
“From what I understand,” Meg said, “the evening will begin with minuets, and after tea there will be country dances.”
“It is a shame there are no waltzes.” Hawksworth cast her a sultry look.
“We are acting as chaperones this evening, my love. We should not dance in any case.”
“Very true. I cannot possibly perform a minuet and watch over my sisters at the same time.”
“There is also a matter of watching over the items they cannot have with them when they are dancing.” Meg rose, signaling for the rest of them to do so as well. “Tea will be served in the drawing room in just a few minutes.” She glanced at Laia and Euphrosyne. “You should fetch your things.”
They rose from the table. Laia and Euphrosyne went upstairs to collect their gloves, fans, reticules, and posies.
“Are you nervous?” Euphrosyne asked as they ascended the stairs.
“A little. I do not want to make a mistake.” Laia hugged her sister. “There is nothing to worry about. We will both have a wonderful time.”
After tea, they walked down the front steps, and Laia marveled at the sedan chairs. They were much more beautiful than the ones she had seen around town. And tall. She was almost afraid that the men carrying the chair might tip it over.
She was so busy looking at the equipage she jumped a bit when she heard a deep voice next to her. “You will be the most exquisite lady at the assembly rooms this evening, my lady.”
Turning, she smiled. “Mr. Paulet, I did not expect to see you until we arrived at the Upper Rooms.” In fact, she had been sure he would be accompanying some other lady. But he had called her exquisite, and she had not answered. “Thank you.”
He placed his hand under her elbow. “How could I miss escorting you to your first entertainment?”
What to say to that? Instead of replying, she smiled again, and he smiled at her. Even under the streetlights, she could see his eyes warm, and a thrill of pleasure skated through her. “I am glad you are here.”
“As am I.” He placed his hand under her elbow. “Come, allow me to assist you into the chair.”
“Yes, please.” She had just gotten settled when she recognized Lord Markham’s voice. Goodness, he must be here to escort her sister.
Had Euphrosyne known he was accompanying them? And did it truly matter? Lord Markham was perfectly eligible. Father might even approve of him. After all, he had wanted Lady Sarah to marry their brother Quartus. Therefore, the family must be acceptable. Yet, if Lady Sarah was correct, and Father wanted only land adjoining his holdings, then that was how he’d pick Euphrosyne’s husband. And knowing her, there would be trouble.
“You are being quiet,” Mr. Paulet said as he strolled next to the chair.
“I was just getting used to the motion,” Laia lied. Now was not the time to worry about her sister. “It is different from anything I have experienced.”
“I would imagine it is. Much better than attempting a carriage on these hills or walking in slippers.”
“I would think keeping one’s skirts from getting dirty would be more of a problem. One can usually wear pattens to keep slippers and hems clean, but not in an evening gown.”
“Sensible lady,” he said in a tone of approval.
In what seemed to be no time at all, she was carried into a large hall, where the chair was set down, and Mr. Paulet opened the door.
He held his hand out to her. “My lady.”
Oh, my! She felt like a princess. “Thank you, sir.” Taking his hand, she stepped out of the chair. “This is extraordinary. Imagine a room just for the chairs.”
“Well, one could not expect ladies to get out on the street.” He grinned. “Not in Bath.”
“Yes. I have heard it’s considered a little stuffy, but it is the most exciting place I’ve ever visited.”
“Even in London, those who still use chairs are carried inside.” Mr. Paulet placed her hand on his arm. “Let us discover how you like your first entertainment.”
They joined her brother, sister, Meg, and Lord Markham. Stealing a look at Euphrosyne, Laia noticed her sister was looking extremely pleased with herself. “How did you like the sedan chair?”
“Very well, indeed,” Euphrosyne said. “I enjoyed the conversation even more.”
Lord Markham had what looked to be a proprietorial grasp on her arm as they made their way into the assembly room.
“What is bothering you?” Mr. Paulet’s lips were so close to Laia’s ear that a shiver ran down her neck.
She decided not to tell him. Over the past week, he had become a friend, but perhaps she was worrying over nothing. Her sister deserved to have fun. This kind of visit might not happen again for her. “Nothing. I am being silly.”
“I doubt that. You could be accused of being cautious.” He raised a ruddy brow. “For your sister, perhaps?”
“You have found me out.” Laia sighed. “I just do not want her to be hurt.”
“I sincerely doubt Markham is playing with her, if that is what concerns you.”
“I would be less concerned if he were.” She folded her lips wondering how much to tell Mr. Paulet. “We are not free to choose our own mates.”
“You are afraid she will run afoul of your father.” His deep voice and his heady scent of sha
ving soap and man enveloped her, and she found herself moving closer to him.
“Precisely.” It really was comforting being able to speak about her unease.
“It is early days, yet. Try not to worry so much until there is something to worry about.”
They had reached Mr. King, the Master of Ceremony. “Good evening, my lady, Mr. Paulet. We are glad to see you here. If there is anything I can do, please ask.”
“Thank you.” Laia inclined her head. “What lovely rooms.”
“We do try, my lady.”
Once Mr. Paulet had greeted the man, they moved on into the room. It was much taller than she had thought it would be. And all the windows were far above her head. “Why are the windows so high?”
“To keep the rabble from looking in on us.” His lips pressed together.
“You do not approve?” She and her brothers and sisters had not even been allowed to play with the local gentry.
“In a word, no.” He slanted her a curious look. “If those who do not have what we do wish to see a world they might never know, why should they not?”
Guy watched Laia’s fine, perfectly arched brows draw together. Although she and her brother had said she had studied the philosophers, she had probably never thought about putting their ideas to practice. “I do not think that merely because my ancestor or another’s ancestor did a deed for a ruler”—deep pink washed over her face and neck as if she were uncertain of stating her opinion—“in whatever fashion, that makes me better than others.” She had been looking off, but now focused on him. “I believe one who has been born to privilege has the obligation to help others, no matter their status in life.”
He hadn’t known he had been waiting for her to declare herself to be as much a Radical as he was. Now that she had, he was even more drawn to her. He wanted to discover how she tasted, not just her lips, but her breasts, and the rest of her body. Yet, she was the sister of one of his best friends. She was betrothed to his uncle. Before Guy did anything, he had to be sure of his feelings. Lust alone could take one only so far.
