A Season of Ruin

by Anna Bradley

  Robyn turned to Lily then, his dark eyes alight with amusement. “Good evening, Miss Somerset. Aren’t you pleased to see me, as well?”

  He found this humorous, did he? Lily didn’t approve of violence of any sort, yet at that moment she had the most intense fantasy of kicking Robyn in the shin.

  She didn’t deign to reply, but only nodded at him and turned her attention back to Archie. If Robyn tried to kiss her cheek, she would do him an injury. She’d hit him over the head with her fan.

  He wasn’t so easily discouraged, however. He took her hand and leaned toward her in an attempt to catch her eyes. “I’d be honored if you’d join me in a dance, Miss Somerset.”

  He addressed her with all propriety, but Lily began to fume nonetheless. Why had he bothered to come to Almack’s at all? And how dare he look at her like a cat looks at a bowl of cream? He seemed not to have the slightest doubt she’d dance with him, which made Lily more determined than ever not to.

  She withdrew her hand. “No, thank you, Mr. Sutherland. I don’t intend to dance this evening.”

  Lady Catherine gave her a puzzled glance. “Oh, but Lily, I thought you wanted—”

  “Of course you’ll dance,” Robyn interrupted. “That’s why you’re here, isn’t it? To dance with eligible gentlemen?”

  Miss Thurston hissed softly at this uncouth reply.

  Lily’s jaws ground together. Why, the gall of him! Oh, how she’d love to put Robyn in his place. A few well-chosen words . . .

  No. She mustn’t let him goad her into any behavior unworthy of her. A proper young lady never caused a scene in public, especially when the company near her was scrutinizing her every move with the avidity of a pack of hunting dogs waiting for a dead bird to drop out of the sky.

  If there was ever a time to hold her tongue, it was now.

  But Robyn Sutherland could drive a saint to sin. She was no saint, and despite her best intentions . . .

  “It’s so very late in the evening, and I’m so fatigued,” she heard herself say. “I’d much rather talk than dance. Miss Thurston, Miss Darlington, and I were just discussing how pleasant Almack’s is. Weren’t we?” She beamed at them.

  The two young ladies exchanged glances, but Lily knew they’d never walk away now—not when their mouths watered for scandal. They’d agree to whatever she said if only they could linger long enough to savor the choicest tidbits. “Er, yes,” Miss Thurston agreed. “We were.”

  “Mr. Sutherland confided to me just the other morning how much he enjoys the balls here,” Lily said. “I’m certain he’d be interested in sharing his thoughts about Almack’s. Do share, Mr. Sutherland.”

  Lily turned wide, innocent blue eyes on Robyn. She didn’t know quite what to expect of him, but she hadn’t thought to find him gazing right back at her with the look of a man who’s just awoken from a nap. He did not look properly chastened. Instead his eyes lit with humor, and a hint of a mischievous smile twitched at the corner of his lips.

  “Oh, we’d be delighted to hear Mr. Sutherland’s thoughts,” Miss Thurston breathed. “Wouldn’t we, Beatrice?”

  “Oh, yes,” Miss Darlington cooed. “On any topic whatsoever.”

  Archie, who appeared far less interested in listening to Robyn hold forth on any topic whatsoever, held out his hand to Lady Catherine. “Will you dance, my lady?”

  Lady Catherine gave her assent and they left to join the set.

  Robyn favored Miss Thurston and Miss Darlington with his most charming smile. “Ladies, how amiable you are. You flatter me.”

  Miss Thurston was rendered momentarily mute by the smile, and Miss Darlington looked ready to swoon. They appeared to have quite forgotten Lily, but she was quite satisfied with them, for they didn’t have a fine feature between them, and each was so dim-witted, Robyn couldn’t possibly enjoy their conversation.

  It was the perfect punishment, yet he didn’t look in the least as though he were suffering. “Of course, any discussion about Almack’s must begin with an observation on the fineness of the company,” he began, with the air of a gentleman delivering a dissertation.

  Miss Darlington clasped her hands together worshipfully, as if Robyn had solved the riddle of the Sphinx. “Oh, yes. Only the very best society is welcome.”

  Miss Thurston gave Lily a sidelong glance. “That’s true, for the most part.”

  Robyn took no direct notice of this comment, but Lily thought she saw his jaw clench. “When you say the best company, Miss Darlington, of course you mean only the most intelligent, the most accomplished, and the kindest members of society are welcome at Almack’s.”

  Miss Darlington didn’t reply right away, but looked blankly at Robyn. “Kindest?” she repeated after a moment, as if she weren’t quite sure of the definition of the word.

  “Oh, yes. That’s how I describe the ton. Kind. This room fairly overflows with kindness, generosity of spirit, and goodwill. Don’t you agree?”

  Robyn raised an eyebrow at her.

  Oh, dear. Lily bit her lip to hold in either a grimace or a laugh. She hardly knew which. Robyn was like a fox with two dull-witted hens. She should never have set him loose on these ladies, and yet she couldn’t deny it amused her to watch Miss Darlington struggle with a concept so utterly foreign to her.

  “I, ah—that is, of course I do,” Miss Darlington squeaked at last.

  Robyn nodded as if he were satisfied with this tepid reply. “And the fashions! If I didn’t know otherwise, I’d think we were in France rather than England, for the ladies here this evening rival even the most elegant of Parisian society. In fact, I’d venture to say I’ve never seen such fashions in my life.”

  He darted a droll look at Lily, which she pretended not to see.

  “Oh, yes, I couldn’t agree more, Mr. Sutherland. The English ladies are always at the forefront of the fashions,” blurted Miss Thurston, as if determined to leap into the conversation at all costs.

  Lily hid a grin. Best to leap now, for Miss Thurston was better qualified to discuss fashion than kindness.

  Marginally better qualified.

  “Just so,” Robyn agreed. “And who exemplifies a more remarkable taste in fashion than you, Miss Thurston? Your gown . . .” Robyn gestured with his hands, as though words failed him. “It’s a very, ah, unusual shade of green. Most flattering.”

  Miss Thurston shot Lily a triumphant glance and fluffed the skirts of her gown.

  “And Miss Darlington! What an astonishing plume that is. I noticed it even before I crossed the threshold.”

  Miss Darlington nodded graciously in acknowledgment of this compliment and the plume waved wildly atop her head. Robyn shot Lily another look, eyes wide, as if he were terrified to find the enormous plume bearing down on him.

  Lily stared back at him, torn between horror at his behavior and hysterical laughter. What had come over her, to stand by while he teased them so mercilessly? But amazingly, neither of the ladies seemed to have the least idea he was mocking them. Ashamed as she was of her behavior, however, Lily was wild to hear what he’d say next.

  “Of course, it goes without saying the company at Almack’s is distinguished by superior manners,” Robyn went on. “I’m sure I don’t have to tell you, ladies, that by manners, I don’t only refer to the exquisite art of conversation, but also to elegant dancing—”

  Here Robyn broke off, as if a thought had just occurred to him. “Do you dance this evening, Miss Thurston?”

  “Yes!” she shouted. “That is,” she continued in more moderate tones, “I do intend to dance this evening, Mr. Sutherland.” She batted stubby eyelashes eagerly at him.

  But instead of asking her to dance, Robyn paused, and the pause went on just a shade past the moment when he should have extended the invitation. When he did speak again, he addressed Miss Darlington. “And you, Miss Darlington? Do you intend to dance this
evening?”

  “I long for a dance,” Miss Darlington said, but just when Lily thought she’d grab Robyn and drag him forcibly to the dance floor, Miss Thurston interrupted her.

  “Didn’t you say, Beatrice, you never intended to dance tonight? I’m sure you said your new slippers pinched dreadfully and you couldn’t dance in them.”

  “I said no such thing, Alice,” Miss Darlington exclaimed. “It was you who said you didn’t care to dance tonight. Why, not ten minutes ago you said it hardly mattered no one had invited you to dance, for you didn’t wish to anyway.”

  The two ladies glared at each other, but just as Lily began to fear a brawl would erupt, Robyn interceded. “Just as I said,” he drawled. “Superior manners. Delightful.”

  Lily stared at him, appalled.

  Oh, no. He’d gone too far now, just as he always did. The two young ladies flushed angrily, and just like that, Robyn’s spell dissolved like a puff of smoke in the air.

  Lily felt a guilty wash of color surge into her face, for she was just as much at fault as he was. “Mr. Sutherland,” she said, determined to put a stop to the conversation, if belatedly. “Perhaps you could fetch us some lemonade—”

  But trying to contain Robyn now was like trying to hold cupped water in her hands. Once the water flowed through her fingers, there was no putting it back again. “But really,” Robyn said as if Lily hadn’t spoken. “The best thing about Almack’s is the convenience of it.”

  Miss Darlington scowled at him. Even her plume quivered with indignation. “Convenience? Whatever do you mean?”

  “Well, I suppose as you are young ladies, you wouldn’t understand, as the convenience is more of an advantage for the gentlemen. For us, Almack’s is rather like a shop.”

  Miss Thurston gave a haughty sniff. “I confess I don’t see your point, Mr. Sutherland. Almack’s is nothing like a shop.”

  Robyn shook his head. “I beg your pardon, Miss Thurston, but indeed it is. London during the season is a marriage mart, and gentlemen who wish to secure a wife shop for her at Almack’s. The Wednesday ball provides a perfect opportunity to inspect the season’s wares.”

  Miss Darlington and Miss Thurston both gasped in outrage, and Lily began to feel quite desperate. She laid a hand on his arm. “I don’t think—”

  Robyn took no notice of her. “I’ve often wondered, in fact, why the patronesses don’t provide the debutantes with placards listing their attractions. You know, this young lady has a fine complexion but only a moderate fortune, or that young lady is an heiress, but she’s dim-witted and a malicious gossip.”

  Placards? Oh, dear God. Why wouldn’t he stop? Lily considered hitting him with her fan after all. It might startle him into silence, and it couldn’t get any worse at this point, could it?

  She was wrong. It did get worse. Much worse.

  “That way a gentleman would know beforehand what he’s getting,” Robyn went on. “It would certainly be helpful, and then perhaps more gentlemen would turn up at these balls. For we won’t come just for the lemonade, you know.” He winked at Miss Darlington.

  The color receded from her face. “Scandalous!”

  “What, the lemonade? I quite agree. The cake, too. Stale, you know. I suppose the patronesses don’t offer spirits in an effort to civilize the gentlemen, but savages that we are, we only get drunk before we arrive.”

  Lily closed her eyes in despair. It was too late. Even the fan couldn’t help her. Nothing short of unconsciousness would stop Robyn now.

  “I can well believe that of you,” Miss Thurston spat. She took a deep breath and drew herself up like a headmistress about to deliver an ear boxing. “I vow you must be in your cups right now to speak to gently bred ladies in such a disgusting manner.”

  Miss Darlington’s face had gone purple. “I do hope you don’t imagine drunkenness excuses your behavior this evening, Mr. Sutherland. Arriving late, refusing to dance, talking about placards and drinking! And Lord Pelkey isn’t wearing a cravat!”

  This last point had nothing to do with Robyn, but the missing cravat seemed to have deeply offended Miss Darlington.

  Robyn lifted an eyebrow at this outburst. “Pelkey’s cravat? He lost it at an inn in Covent Garden. The Pirate’s Peg Leg, I believe it was. We were playing a game, you see.”

  Lily could well imagine what kind of game they’d been playing. “Don’t, Robyn.”

  But it was no use. “It’s a splendid game. One gentleman holds a barmaid on his lap. She hikes her skirts to her knees and extends her leg and the other gentlemen take turns trying to wrap the cravat around her leg.”

  Miss Thurston swayed, as if she were about to faint.

  Robyn gave her an encouraging smile. “The gentleman may only use his teeth at this point in the game, of course, for it wouldn’t be challenging otherwise, and what fun is there in that?”

  He addressed this question to Miss Darlington and paused, as if he expected her to answer, but only a choked whimper escaped her lips.

  Robyn smiled brightly at them. “We left the Pirate in rather a hurry tonight, and Pelkey left his cravat wrapped around Molly’s leg. Or was her name Mary? I can’t remember, but no matter. That explains the cravat. Does that make you feel any better?”

  Miss Thurston and Miss Darlington stared at him, both of them white-faced and speechless. They were still gaping when Archie and Lady Catherine returned from the dance.

  Archie took one look at the ladies’ stunned expressions and turned to Robyn. His face darkened with suspicion at Robyn’s angelic smile. “Sutherland! What—”

  Then Lily did something she never imagined she’d do. “The orchestra has just struck up a reel. Lord Archibald, will you be kind enough to partner me in a dance?”

  Chapter Nine

  “She told me she didn’t intend to dance tonight,” Robyn said to no one in particular.

  Silence greeted this statement. He looked around in surprise to find he stood alone. His mother had drifted off in the direction of the card room with Lady Sutton. Miss Darlington and Miss Thurston, both stiff with outrage, had retreated to the opposite side of the ballroom, as far away from Robyn as they could get.

  That was another thing he despised about Almack’s. Once a man had terrified all the virgins away, there wasn’t a thing left to do.

  He watched as Lily moved through the figures of the dance on Archie’s arm. She didn’t look fatigued to him. On the contrary, she looked quite lively, and Archie looked bloody pleased with himself, like a man who’d just won a fortune at a gaming hell.

  Smug bastard.

  It hadn’t occurred to Robyn that Lily might not forgive him. Everyone always forgave him, for everything.

  “She told me she didn’t intend to dance tonight,” Robyn repeated to no one at all.

  “It’s not a question of intent. It’s one of opportunity. Or at least it was until Archie arrived. Whatever would we do without Archie, Robyn?”

  Robyn whirled around to find Eleanor standing behind him. “I was just thinking the same thing. What if Archie weren’t here at all?”

  He expected Eleanor to scold him, but to his surprise, she laughed. “Ah, well, then I suppose you’d have to dance with Lily, and as you don’t seem keen to do so, you owe Archie a debt of gratitude.”

  “Who says I don’t want to dance with Lily? For God’s sake, I asked her to dance as soon as I arrived and she refused me. She said she didn’t intend to dance tonight.”

  He felt foolish repeating himself a third time, but it seemed imperative someone understand he was the wronged party here. Lily had lied to him. Surely Ellie could see none of this was his fault?

  His sister didn’t look at all sympathetic, however. “Perhaps she meant she didn’t think she’d be invited to dance. She had good reason to think so. This is her first dance this evening, you know.”

  Impossible
. Not tonight. Not in that gown. Not on any night in any gown, but especially not tonight. Not unless every gentleman in the ballroom was blind.

  “What’s happened to her convent garb?”

  Lily had shed yesterday’s dark lacy monstrosity in favor of a pale blue silk gown that waved and undulated around her curves. Her creamy bosom rose in perfect swells over the low-cut neckline. Her maid had gathered her hair into sleek waves at the back of her head, leaving her white neck exposed.

  Ellie looked puzzled. “Her what?”

  “Her convent garb.” Robyn clutched at his neck with both hands. “The high-necked gowns. Look rather like lace-encrusted nooses? You know the ones.”

  “Oh, that. Charlotte refused to help Lily with Lord Atherton unless Lily left off wearing them in public, and you know what Charlotte’s like when she puts her foot down.”

  Robyn moistened his lips with a dart of his tongue, his eyes fixed on Lily as she glided through the dance. His throat had gone dry, but he doubted Almack’s weak lemonade would quench this particular thirst.

  She looked delicious, like a body of cool, refreshing water on a sweltering day. He wanted to sip at her, dive into her, and he’d wager he wasn’t the only one. “I don’t believe this is her first dance this evening.”

  Ellie raised an eyebrow. “Oh, I assure you it is. You know how the ton loves their gossip, especially malicious gossip. The young ladies are jealous of Lily and only too thrilled to have a reason to snub her. Mrs. Tittleton gives them the perfect excuse to do so.”

  “But the gentlemen—”

  Ellie cut him off. “The gentlemen are far worse than the ladies. Not one of them has even glanced at Lily this evening, unless you count Lord Atherton. When he asked Charlotte to dance, he looked at Lily as if she were an insect he’d flicked off his coat sleeve.”

  Robyn rolled his eyes. Of course Atherton had snubbed Lily. Eleanor should have known that would happen. Millicent Chase’s offenses against the ton were legendary, and now Lily had been caught in a scandal herself. Atherton wasn’t the type of man who forgave social offenses.