A Night in Grosvenor Square

by Sarah M. Eden

  “I did,” she said, still a bit shocked that the excruciatingly quiet Miss Summerfield had initiated a conversation. Terrance Lexington was a friend of Jack’s. He was a flirt and a bit ridiculous at times, but he was harmless and entertaining.

  “Mr. Lexington stood up with me later in the evening,” Miss Summerfield said. “He makes me nervous.”

  Odette’s heart went out to her. “Mr. Lexington is a gentleman through and through. You need not be ill at ease in his company.”

  “Oh, I am not nervous on that account. He is simply so witty.” Color touched Miss Summerfield’s cheeks. “I very much fear he finds me unbearably boring.”

  Odette shook her head. “He does not seem to me to be someone who requires endless repartee. He appears perfectly content to be the one doing the entertaining.”

  Miss Summerfield smiled a little. Her hands, clasped on her lap, untensed a bit. “He is very entertaining.”

  “As he well knows,” Odette added drily, but with enough of a smile to take any true criticism from the words.

  “Mr. Hewitt stood up with me during the quadrille,” Miss Summerfield said. “I was so very grateful. I am not very confident in the quadrille, but I knew he would not scold me for it.”

  “He is all that is good and kind.” Odette felt she could safely acknowledge that much.

  Before Miss Summerfield could offer any kind of response, her mother drew her attention, pulling her into the conversation with Mrs. Hewitt, though Miss Summerfield said nothing. Odette let her gaze wander. The guests were all either talking with one another or listening raptly to the conversation being undertaken by their hostess. All the guests, except Mrs. Northrop, who was, in fact, watching Odette far too closely for comfort.

  Wrapping her facade around her once more, Odette raised an eyebrow. “Is something amiss?”

  Mrs. Northrop simply hmm’d. She did that a lot. It was, in all actuality, rather frustrating. The sound was clearly one of pondering but beyond that was indiscernible. Odette suspected she was constantly being evaluated by the matchmaker, and she did not like it at all. Too much was being kept hidden for such scrutiny to be anything but worrisome.

  The butler appeared once more in the drawing room doorway to usher in more arrivals. Terrance Lexington, whom Odette was happy to see, stepped in. On his heels came Jack. How Odette hoped she’d maintained an even expression. Heaven knew she’d had ample practice the last months. Still, the role she played was growing more difficult.

  The room was greeted in gentlemanly fashion. The guests expressed universal delight at their arrival. The gentlemen were invited to join the gathering, which they accepted with no hint of displeasure.

  Jack chose a seat a bit apart from his mother and her preferred guests, placing himself at a disinterested distance from Miss Summerfield. Mr. Lexington sat a touch closer, wearing his usual expression of enthusiasm.

  “We were just discussing what a crush the ball was last evening,” Mrs. Hewitt said. “Did you not think it a crush?”

  “It certainly was.” Jack smiled at them all at once. “I believe I saw every last one of you there.”

  “Indeed,” Mr. Lexington agreed. “And we had the pleasure of dancing with any number of lovely young ladies, including Miss Armistead”—he dipped his head toward her—“and Miss Summerfield.” He offered the same acknowledgment to her. “A joy.”

  Odette doubted that on her part. She had enjoyed his company, but the Pompous Princess was high on no one’s list of enjoyable companions, more was the pity.

  On and on the conversations went. Jack offered a reply when required but kept mostly quiet. Mr. Lexington was his usual talkative self, even managing a few responses from Miss Summerfield. Odette felt more than a little relieved when Mother arose and announced that they needed to be going.

  As curtsies were exchanged between Mother and Mrs. Hewitt, Odette caught Jack’s eye. For the briefest of moments, he allowed an expression of fond regret to pass over his features. She offered a fleeting smile of sad understanding. His parents had made their choice, and hers would do nothing to earn even a hint of their disapproval.

  * * *

  The carriage ride back to Barrington House was not a long one, but Adelaide knew how to take advantage of even snippets of time.

  “I was impressed with Mr. Lexington,” she said to Lady Barrington. “What is his situation?”

  “His father is a gentleman,” Mother answered. “A good family. Well-heeled. Excellent connections.”

  “Is he prone to debauchery?”

  “Certainly not,” Mother answered. “I hear only good things of him.”

  Adelaide nodded. “Excellent. I believe I shall make certain of that, but he is a promising prospect.”

  Though Odette’s expression remained passive, her eyes told a different story. Too few people realized how readily their eyes betrayed them. Mr. Lexington, it seemed, was not Odette’s mystery gentleman. She would let the young lady think she was focused on him, though.

  She would watch, and she would solve this mystery.

  She always did.

  Chapter Four

  Jack walked toward the Summerfields’ London home wondering how he’d managed to land himself in such a predicament. Somehow, before the Summerfields had left Mother’s at-home the day before, he had been wrangled into taking Miss Summerfield for a drive in Hyde Park. Terrance, who knew perfectly well Jack didn’t wish to be strong-armed into that particular match, had saved the day with a bit of quick thinking.

  “Do join us,” he’d said to Jack with every appearance of enthusiasm. “The young lady I am driving out with tomorrow will, I am certain, appreciate the added opportunity to socialize.”

  Jack had agreed before any objections could be lodged. A time was chosen. Terrance insisted he would meet them at the Summerfield home, his chosen young lady already fetched, and they would drive out together. He’d managed the entire thing without ever identifying his companion, something he’d admitted, upon quitting the drawing room, had been necessary.

  “I suppose I’d best secure myself a driving companion, hadn’t I?” It had been entirely fabricated.

  “Thank you for that,” Jack had said.

  Terrance had thumped a hand on his shoulder. “A friend worth his salt will always save another friend from a forced courtship.”

  “That is the standard definition, is it?”

  “It is my definition.”

  Jack turned up the short walk to the Summerfields’ home, increasingly grateful for Terrance, yet also feeling increasingly guilty. He hadn’t confided in his friend the full situation. He had full confidence in Terrance’s willingness to keep mum, but he wouldn’t reveal the situation to anyone without first making certain Odette was comfortable with the revelation. She didn’t know Terrance as well as he did.

  The Summerfields’ butler answered Jack’s knock and ushered him inside. Jack took his hat in his hands. The butler did not offer to take his hat, which indicated he would not be left waiting long. Mrs. Summerfield stepped into the entryway.

  He bowed and received a curtsy in return.

  “Tabitha is delighted at the prospect of your company this afternoon. She has spoken of nothing else.”

  That was surprisingly easy to believe. Miss Summerfield never spoke, so he struggled to imagine her waxing long about their drive. But, then, if she’d spoken even a single sentence about their afternoon together, it might very well have been the only thing she’d said all day. Still, he was likely supposed to be flattered.

  “I am pleased she is joining us. I believe it will be a pleasant excursion.”

  Miss Summerfield appeared on the landing above and quickly and silently descended the stairs. Her mother had insisted she was “delighted” to be taking an afternoon drive with him, but she looked far closer to terrified.

  Another bow and curtsy exchange followed her arrival in the entryway. She offered what was likely a commonplace greeting but in a voice so quiet he could not
be certain. If only his parents’ choice for his bride had been a brashly confident young lady, he could simply express his disinterest, and she would have dismissed him and saved her effort and attention for someone else. A quiet, uncertain young lady whose parents were as forceful as Miss Summerfield’s would be made to suffer from the loss of a suitor.

  What a fragile dance they were all enacting.

  The butler opened the front door once more. Jack offered Miss Summerfield a quick smile of reassurance and motioned toward the door.

  “I believe our companions for the afternoon have arrived.”

  She looked to her mother, who nodded earnestly and motioned her to go.

  Jack knew his role in this exchange. “Your daughter will be returned safely and in good time.”

  “You have my full confidence, Mr. Hewitt.” Her tone was a bit too vehement, too earnest for such an ordinary declaration. So much about his interactions with the Summerfields felt forced.

  What were Mr. and Mrs. Summerfield like when they weren’t in pursuit? He hadn’t been home enough in the brief weeks before this match was settled upon by their parents to truly know.

  Terrance was coming up the walk with his partner on his arm. Jack could not, for a moment, move toward them. Terrance had invited Odette. Odette. On Terrance’s arm. Preparing to take a drive around Hyde Park.

  Jack didn’t know whether to be grateful or frustrated. An hour or so in her company was an unforeseen boon. But spending that time pretending to be indifferent to her would be torturous. They had so little opportunity to see each other. This felt like a waste.

  Terrance grinned at them both. “If I’d known you would be stepping out so quickly, we would have simply sat in the carriage like a couple of sluggards.”

  Odette rolled her eyes. Anyone who did not know her well would miss the laughter underlying the expression. She really had a wonderful sense of humor. He seldom smiled as much as he did during their walks around the neighborhood at home. He certainly never laughed as much.

  The four of them returned directly to the carriage. Jack handed Miss Summerfield up, and she sat forward facing, scooting to the far side of the carriage.

  “I far prefer being forward facing.” Odette spoke with the self-assured air that had earned her that hateful moniker. “I would like to sit beside Miss Summerfield.” She did not wait for an answer but stepped up beside Jack. She held a hand out to him. “If you would be so good, Mr. Hewitt.”

  “Of course.” He took her hand.

  The touch, which ought to have been utterly commonplace, sent a rush of warmth up his arm directly to his heart. Oh, how he missed her. How he longed for the right to simply hold her hand, to offer her his support for something as ordinary as stepping into a carriage. To be able to talk with her again. Laugh with her.

  Her eyes held his for what felt like ages, though it could not have been more than a fraction of a moment. What he saw there broke his heart. She was hurting, deeply, and he could do nothing about it.

  “I am sorry,” he mouthed silently.

  She stepped up into the carriage, pulling her hand free of his, and sat beside Miss Summerfield. He understood the necessity, but he missed the feel of her hand in his.

  Terrance grinned at him as he stepped up into the carriage himself. “Looks like we’re to be seatmates. Can’t say I’m overly pleased by the trade.”

  Jack managed to find some amusement in the situation. He felt certain Odette had asked for the change in seats to help him avoid being seen in public sitting beside Miss Summerfield and to make certain she was not connected by the gossips to Terrance.

  The coachman set the carriage rolling toward Hyde Park. Odette sat with hands primly folded in her lap, her expression unwaveringly neutral. The disguise of apathy had grown more convincing of late. Was she growing more adept at pretending, or was she every bit as miserable as she appeared?

  How much longer could she endure this charade?

  Terrance, grinning and enthusiastic as ever, dove into the silence. “I believe ours will be the most popular carriage in the park today. I fully intend to tell everyone who asks that Hewitt, here, is the hanger-on, while the three of us are quite the social set.”

  “Well, two of us.” Odette indicated herself and Miss Summerfield even as she tossed Terrance a look of amused taunting.

  Terrance laughed good-naturedly. “A challenge?

  “A simple statement of fact.”

  Terrance turned to Jack. “I believe our reputations are being called into question. We cannot allow the ladies to outshine us.”

  “I don’t think it is avoidable,” Jack said.

  Miss Summerfield’s cheeks reddened, but she appeared pleased. Jack did not wish her to be unhappy, yet he also dared not risk encouraging hopes he had no intention of fulfilling.

  Odette leaned toward Miss Summerfield. “Shall we take up their challenge? See whether we receive more compliments during this drive than they do?”

  “That is unfair,” Terrance said. “One glance around this carriage tells me Jack and I will emerge the losers in that competition.”

  “Shall we center our competition on something more suited to your particular strengths?” Odette very nearly smiled. How Jack had missed the sight of her smile. “I’m not certain I care to let Society determine who among us smells the worst.”

  Terrance laughed long and loud. Miss Summerfield even laughed, something Jack didn’t think he’d ever heard.

  Odette slipped her arm through Miss Summerfield’s. “The gentlemen are afraid of us. They know there is no chance of besting us in a ‘who is more popular’ contest.”

  “Cowards,” Miss Summerfield said.

  Again, Terrance laughed. Jack couldn’t help joining in.

  “We accept your challenge,” Jack said.

  “We do?” Terrance quickly changed his tone to one of confidence. “We do! We’ll count the number of people who express pleasure at seeing you ladies or the two of us. The team with the greatest number by the time we leave the park will be declared the winner.”

  Miss Summerfield, quite to Jack’s shock, spoke again. “What prize do the winners receive?”

  “Supper dance with the losers at the Salsteads’ ball on Saturday?” Terrance suggested.

  Odette managed a look of theatrical disapproval. “Dancing with unpopular gentlemen hardly seems like a prize.”

  They made their way through a few other suggestions, everything from ices at Gunter’s to another ride in the park, but in the end settled upon the supper dance.

  “It is only fair, though, that we switch partners,” Terrance insisted. “Then each winner will not be required to spend more time with the exact gentleman she bested.”

  Odette raised an eyebrow. “You expect to lose?”

  “Fully,” Terrance said.

  Odette turned to her teammate. “What do you think? Shall we agree to the proposed switch?”

  Miss Summerfield blushed ever deeper but agreed without hesitation.

  Odette met Jack’s eye. “That would leave us partners for supper on Saturday. Can you endure being partnered with a childhood friend?”

  Hope, anticipation, eagerness all swelled inside. “More than endure, Miss Armistead. I will enjoy it immensely.”

  She shook her head. “You will be the first this Season to do so.”

  “Nonsense,” Terrance immediately answered.

  Doubt filled her expression. “Princess Pompous does not exactly inspire odes.”

  “But you do inspire gentlemen to acts of derring-do.”

  “Like knights of old?” Odette pressed.

  Terrance hesitated. “I would answer in the affirmative, but that would make you the dragon, and I know better than to insult a lady.”

  “You do not think I am the dragon?”

  Jack answered aloud without meaning to. “You are certainly not the dragon.”

  All eyes were on him. Worrying he’d revealed too much, he quickly added, “If anything, you
are the knight, not Lexington here.”

  “Mr. Lexington is the damsel in distress, then.” Odette nodded as if the idea were perfectly logical.

  Miss Summerfield grinned broadly. This drive was proving far more diverting than Jack had anticipated.

  The carriage slowed as it entered the press of Hyde Park. They greeted and were greeted. Miss Summerfield received any number of expressions of delight. Odette was also acknowledged with pleasantries, but there was something in the tone and expression that spoke far more of curiosity. Jack and Terrance proved far less popular, just as they had all predicted.

  At the end of each encounter, Odette updated the score. By the time they’d completed half a circuit of the park, Miss Summerfield was joining in the accounting. Odette was more herself during the drive than Jack had seen in months. She laughed and teased. She smiled. Excitement and enthusiasm touched her words and posture. Her attentions to Miss Summerfield had pulled the timid young lady out of her shell.

  Jack had always known this part of Odette’s character. Terrance was discovering it for the first time. He looked impressed. Touched.

  Intrigued.

  Perhaps this arrangement had been a mistake after all.

  * * *

  Adelaide watched Mr. Lexington’s carriage roll past among the crush of vehicles in the park. She had placed herself on a bench facing the carriage path with the precise purpose of watching for the young people. What she saw was both encouraging and surprising.

  Odette looked genuinely happy, something Adelaide had not yet seen. The smile and sparkling eyes fit her far better than the expression of annoyed ennui she usually wore. But what had inspired it?

  Mr. Lexington was a jovial companion, but Adelaide knew he had not captured the young lady’s heart. Mr. Hewitt and Miss Summerfield were joining in the apparently entertaining conversation. Perhaps it was simply the combination of companions that brought light back into Odette’s eyes. Perhaps it was the effect of fresh air. Or time away from her parents.