Put like that, Ellen supposed it was a little odd that nobody at all approached her. There were plenty of plainer girls than she, of no greater wealth and in many cases lesser family, who regularly appeared on the dance floor on the arms of eligible young men.
“Even Miss Brightling dances more than you, and she is afflicted with eyes that cross, protruding teeth and an insatiable appetite for sweets which has given her a girth similar to that of a horse,” Marianne said, accurately if a little cruelly. “Why does Lady Havers not introduce you to some of the young men buzzing about her daughter? There would not be enough dances for Lady Louisa to give them one each if this ball lasted until tomorrow night.”
“I suppose… maybe Lady Havers does not want me distracting from Louisa’s limelight?” Ellen said uncertainly. Although she was uncertain why Louisa apparently needed suitors at all; her play for Thomas had been both obvious and apparently successful. Thomas stood glowering jealously at Louisa’s group even now. Poor Thomas; every time Louisa smiled at one of her swains he looked most distressed. Ellen wished that she might say or do something to comfort him.
“The Earl needs to stop pining after Lady Louisa and start making acquaintances of his own social circle,” Marianne said. “I’m afraid that I may not speak to him to effect introductions, but there are some ladies I might introduce you to, if you would be willing? They have relatives near to your cousin’s age who are upstanding young men.”
The slightly wistful tone in Marianne’s voice made Ellen wonder if the young men in question had been among her suitors before she was married off to Creighton. Grateful for her condescension, though, Ellen said honestly that she should be delighted to make any new acquaintances.
“Excellent. Do come with me.” Rising gracefully to her feet, Marianne led Ellen along the wall to where a group of older society matrons were gathered. “Lady Jersey, Lady Sale, Mrs Peabody. May I introduce Miss Ellen Bentley to your notice? She is a cousin of the new Earl of Havers.”
“An American?” Lady Sale said sharply. She had a long, narrow nose, and a way of looking down it that made Ellen feel very small.
“No, my lady, I was born and raised in Haverford,” Ellen dipped a curtsy. “I am quite a distant cousin,” she said with devastating honesty, “my great-grandmother was sister to the Earl’s grandfather.”
“Quite close enough,” Lady Jersey said with a hearty chuckle. “My great-grandmother was mistress to one of our former monarchs, and my family has never quite managed to live down the scandal!”
“Sally!” Lady Sale shook her head, but a smile curved her thin lips upward as Mrs Peabody let out a high, girlish giggle.
A little shocked, Ellen blushed, saw that Marianne was blushing too. Lady Jersey was examining her now with a critical eye.
“You’re here with Clarice, I suppose?”
“Lady Havers, yes, my lady,” Ellen nodded.
“Never did like her. Why isn’t she introducing you about, hm? Worried you’ll be competition for her daughter, Laura is it?”
“Lady Louisa,” Mrs Peabody corrected her.
Lady Jersey waved a plump, beringed hand carelessly in the other woman’s direction. “Yes, yes, Lady Louisa, we all know the type. Diamond of the first water and all that. Why didn’t she find a husband in her first two seasons, hm?”
“Holding out for a bigger fish,” Lady Sale said knowledgeably.
The other ladies hummed in acknowledgement before all looking back at Ellen.
“You did well to bring her to us, Lady Creighton,” Lady Jersey nodded to Marianne.
“I hoped. My situation means that I cannot be of much use, but you ladies… well, you were very kind to me at my debut.”
“You quite broke poor Tristan’s heart when you married Creighton, my dear,” Lady Sale said, “but I never blamed you. We know what kind of man your father was.”
Looking past them, Marianne paled suddenly. “Excuse me,” she said hastily, and walked briskly away to join a gentleman who had just entered the ballroom.
“Poor girl,” Lady Sale and Mrs Peabody said almost in unison while Lady Jersey was not nearly so restrained.
“Wasted!” she snapped.
“Is that Lord Creighton?” Ellen asked shyly, a little horrified. The earl, if it were he, had to be at least seventy years old if not more, almost entirely bald, his face deeply wrinkled. He was a big man, though, tall and still powerfully built despite his age, and as Marianne hastened to his side he put out a large hand and clamped it tightly around her wrist, almost dragging her from the room.
“Unfortunately, yes,” Lady Jersey said, “and if Clarice has her way, you’ll probably end up married off to someone just as awful. Let us see to thwarting her plans, my dears. Regrettably, Almack's is closed until the Season proper or I should provide you with vouchers, but Town is not entirely devoid of suitable prospects at this time of year.” She gave Ellen a warm smile, raking her from head to foot with sharp eyes. “At least Clarice has seen fit to outfit you properly, although lavender isn’t quite your colour. Why are you still in mourning, if the previous earl was such a distant cousin?”
“My parents both passed away last December,” Ellen said, once again having to swallow the painful lump in her throat. She did not think that she would ever stop missing them.
“Oh, you poor dear!” Mrs Peabody said sympathetically. “I must introduce you to my godson. Now where is that boy…”
“Edmund is far too young to be looking for a wife, Agatha,” Lady Jersey said firmly. “Nice boy, but still at Oxford,” she informed Ellen. “You need a man already set up; I take it you don’t have your heart set on a title or one of England’s great fortunes?”
“Just a simple home of my own and a man with a kind heart,” Ellen said. “I grew up in the parsonage at Haverford, my lady; my expectations are humble.”
“Humble, indeed!” Lady Sale gave her an approving look and the other two nodded. “Well, perhaps we can do a little better than that. Would you have any objections to a military man? The Wares’ second son is in the Navy and has lately received promotion to a captaincy and his own ship…” without waiting for Ellen’s reply, she waved to a sturdy young man in uniform and soon recruited him to dance the next set with her.
While Captain Ware was pleasant enough, he did not seem particularly interested in making more than polite conversation. Ellen was nevertheless pleased to dance at all, and grateful to the ladies for their condescension. Upon the conclusion of the set, Captain Ware returned her to her new benefactresses, where Ellen was surprised to find that they already had another partner awaiting her. Lord Bellmere was duly introduced, politely enquired as to whether she was engaged for the dance, and upon hearing that she was not, escorted her to the line of couples.
Beginning to enjoy herself despite the new dancing slippers still pinching her toes, Ellen smiled at Lord Bellmere when he asked how she was enjoying London.
“Oh, a good deal, my lord! Though I have not as yet had an opportunity to go to the British Museum; I am hoping that my cousin will be able to arrange a visit for us soon. I am very eager to see the famous marbles which Lord Elgin brought back from Athens.”
Lord Bellmere, a softly-spoken gentleman in his early forties who had not particularly objected when his cousin Lady Sale caught his attention and insisted he danced with a country nobody, found himself intrigued. In his experience, the Elgin Marbles and the British Museum were not generally the attractions which young ladies found of particular interest on their first visit to London.
“I have a friend who is on the board of the Museum,” he offered. “While the public opening times are a sad crush, it is possible to obtain tickets to more exclusive viewings. I could see if my friend might be able to assist…?”
Ellen’s smile was quite radiant as the dance brought them back together to clasp hands and bow. “Why, Lord Bellmere, that is a most generous offer! Thank you so much!”
Miss Bentley was very pretty when she smiled l
ike that, Lord Bellmere thought, deciding that he would pay a call on his friend on the morrow. And that he owed his cousin Lady Sale a thank-you, for bringing Miss Bentley to his attention. No dowry to speak of, Lady Sale had said, but he was comfortably off and had no need of a wealthy wife. A pretty one with a brain between her ears, someone who would not bore him to tears in conversation, would suit him very well.
“Might I call upon you, Miss Bentley?” he enquired.
A pretty colour flushed Ellen’s cheeks as the dance ended and they bowed to each other. “That would be very pleasant, Lord Bellmere.”
Chapter Eight
*
Partnering the pretty wife of another young Earl he had lately been introduced to in the dancing, Thomas was surprised to see Ellen join the set with a gentleman he did not know. Ellen looked happy, smiling and talking animatedly with her partner, and the gentleman seemed equally taken with her.
“Pardon me, Lady Hallam,” Thomas said, “but do you see the couple three down from us in the set, the beautiful dark-haired lady in the lavender dress with the green sash…”
“I see them, but I do not know her, if you are angling for an introduction,” Lady Hallam said with a cheerful laugh.
“That is my cousin Miss Bentley, ma’am. I was just wondering if you knew her partner?”
“Ah! Indeed, I do, that is Lord Bellmere. One of the Duke of Northumberland’s grandsons; there are a whole collection of them, and though he’s a long way from the ducal coronet he has a baronetcy from his mother and a very nice estate near Warwick, I believe.” She cast another look at the pair as the dance took them around to face Ellen and her partner. “Your cousin seems to have caught his fancy. He’s a very respectable gentleman, I assure you. No scandals or black sheep in that family.”
The news should have pleased Thomas, but he found himself frowning as he saw Ellen smiling widely at her partner again. What was the man saying, to make her look so pleased? He had not thought Ellen the type to fall for empty flattery. At the end of the dance, he hastily returned an amused Lady Hallam to her husband and set off in search of Ellen, finding her just as the next dance started.
“El-Miss Bentley,” he said.
“Cousin,” she offered him a pretty curtsy and a smile. “I pray you will excuse me; Major Trevithick has just engaged me for this dance.”
The very tall, very thin redheaded gentleman on whose arm Ellen’s gloved hand daintily rested, gave him a polite bow. There was little Thomas could do but smile and nod, though he found himself frowning after Ellen as she and her partner joined the forming set.
“So you’re Havers,” a voice said behind him, and he turned to find himself the focus of several pairs of beady eyes.
“At your service,” he bowed, unsure of the protocol. They had not been formally introduced, but then one of the ladies had addressed him, and from their jewels and gowns these were the kind of highly-ranked ladies who could sneer at convention all they pleased. Bellmere was standing with them, he noticed, and the baronet stepped forward.
“I’m Bellmere, my lord; I just had the pleasure of a dance with your charming cousin Miss Bentley.”
“Yes,” Thomas said, deciding quite irrationally that he did not like the shape of the other man’s eyebrows. Recognising that he was being slightly ridiculous, he forced himself to smile and be polite as Bellmere introduced Lady Jersey, Lady Sale and Mrs Peabody. Having read the newspapers diligently since his arrival in England, and not merely the political pages but the society ones as well, he recognised the names as some of the leaders of the Ton. Apparently, they had taken a liking to Ellen, because no sooner had they been introduced than they started telling him—not asking, but telling—that they intended to take her on and see her well married.
“Ellen—ah, Miss Bentley—is my ward, yes,” he answered a question from Lady Sale, “but she is in the charge of my aunt the Countess.”
“Clarice has her hands full with Lady Louisa and her army of suitors,” Lady Jersey said with a sniff, “whereas here we are, three bored dowagers with not a single girl between us to bring out this season. Lady Havers hasn’t had a minute to introduce Miss Bentley to anyone, Havers—do you mind if I call you Havers?”
“Would it matter if I did?”
“Not in the least, dear boy.” She smiled at him. “You may be American, but clearly you’re not a fool.”
There wasn’t much he could say to that, so he just bowed politely. Clearly Lady Jersey was a law unto herself.
“Thank you for your attentions to my cousin, milady. I will assume that you have her best interests at heart.”
“Don’t worry about a thing, Havers,” Lady Jersey waved a hand weighed down with gem-studded rings. “We’ll have her married off in no time.”
Thomas found that he could not feel as enthused about that idea as Lady Jersey and her friends seemed to be. “I will have to approve any serious suitors for her hand, of course,” he said stiffly, “and I trust that you will not introduce her to any gentlemen who are unsuitable.”
Lady Jersey gave him a penetrating look, but it was Mrs Peabody who asked;
“And do you have any particular criteria for suitability, my lord?”
Lord Bellmere hadn’t made himself scarce, Thomas noted, and was listening avidly to the conversation.
“No gamblers, or heavy drinkers,” Thomas said, trying to think of a good reason to exclude Bellmere apart from his detestable eyebrows. His age, that had to count against him. “A gentleman with his own property, but not too high in the instep; Miss Bentley’s father was a parson and she was raised quite simply.”
“Pshaw,” Lady Sale said sharply, “my father was a parson too, and I managed perfectly well when I married Sale.”
“The Marquess of Sale,” Mrs Peabody murmured, for Thomas’ edification.
“Your pardon, my lady, I meant no offence.” He offered the marchioness a deep bow, and she sniffed, looking slightly mollified.
From the corner of his eye, Thomas caught a glimpse of Ellen and her tall partner in the dance. The man’s red coat, clashing with his hair, gave him another idea.
“While I have the utmost respect for the courage of England’s brave soldiers, I am not sure that I should care to see Miss Bentley married to a military man, either. The necessities of military service must needs keep them apart, and happiness in a marriage is difficult to achieve in such cases.” He carefully didn’t look at Lord Bellmere as he added one final recommendation. “Finally, I should prefer Ellen to marry a man reasonably close to her own age.”
“Well, we shall take all those things into account, Havers,” Lady Jersey said, sharp eyes boring into him. “For the most part, they are not unreasonable things to want for your cousin. I note that you did not mention her preference, though. Are we to take that into account and deny her if she discovers a partiality, for example, for naval captains?”
Thomas had the uneasy feeling that she was teasing him, though he could not discern precisely how. “Miss Bentley’s happiness is my first concern,” he said.
“Of course.”
Lady Jersey was definitely laughing in her sleeve about him, and Lady Sale and Mrs Peabody looked quite unaccountably amused as well. Bellmere was eyeing him in a peculiar way, almost as though sizing him up.
Deciding that retreat, in this case, would be well-advised, Thomas politely excused himself and made his way back across the room, glimpsing Ellen and her partner again on the way. Ellen was smiling again, that happy, bright smile he had only ever glimpsed a few times, usually in the library at Haverford when she discussed a particularly interesting book with him.
Was Ellen truly enjoying the ball so much? Thomas could not say that he was; so far, the people he had met had been dull, sycophantic or both, for the most part. The three older ladies he had just met were by far the most interesting encounters of the night.
“I say, Havers,” a hand caught at his sleeve and he paused, recognising Viscount Danbury, a gentleman aroun
d his own age who he had met earlier in the week. Two other young men were with Danbury, smiling at him in welcome.
“Danbury,” Thomas acknowledged. He had the distinct suspicion that the other man’s only interest in him was because of his relationship to Lady Louisa; Danbury had been very quick to trade on their brief acquaintance to claim an introduction and a place on Louisa’s dance card.
“We’ve done our duty to the elders and are off to Boodle’s; would you care to accompany us? My younger brother Alexander, by the way, and our friend Mr Penn.”
Thomas had been in London long enough to know that Boodle’s was a gentleman’s club, popular among the younger set while the older gentlemen preferred White’s or Brooks, depending on their political leanings for the most part. At least they hadn’t said Watier’s, he mused; the infamous gamester’s club was no place he cared to visit.
“Why not,” he decided. When the alternative was to spend the evening here watching Ellen dance and smile with an apparently interminable series of partners presented by Lady Jersey and her cronies, spending an evening with some friendly young men of his own age sounded really quite interesting. “Pardon me a few moments while I let my aunt know I am leaving; I can send my carriage back for her later.”
“No need for that, I’ve my own,” Danbury said cheerfully. “We’ll await you in the foyer.”
*
“Yes, yes, off you go,” Lady Havers said when Thomas approached her to mention he was going to leave with some other young gentlemen. “You’ve done your duty to Louisa. I shall take her home when she wearies of dancing and we shall see you tomorrow.”
“And Ellen.”
“Excuse me?” Lady Havers blinked at him.
“Ellen. Miss Bentley, Aunt Clarice!”
“Oh, yes, of course… where is she? Sitting down with the other wallflowers?” Lady Havers spared a glance towards the side of the room. “No matter, I shall have a servant locate her when we are ready to depart.”
An Earl For Ellen (Blushing Brides Book 1) Page 6
