His warm feeling faded into a numbness. Since when did she care about what was seemly? Still, she was smiling. He might not have another opportunity. They approached the box and he stopped her, checked to make sure no one could see, then turned to face her.
“Mary, you have to stop being so flirtatious with your admirers when I am your escort,” he said quickly.
Her brows rose in confusion. “What? Why?”
He sputtered and fumbled for a reason. “Because… because!”
She snorted and started to go past him. “Not good enough, Geoffrey.”
He grabbed her shoulders and gently turned her back to face him. “Because it looks like I’m not enough for you,” he hissed, looking around again.
She only gave him an arch look that quite plainly told him she was wondering if he was.
He took a steadying breath as his ire began to rise yet again. Really, he was going to have to do something about his control. “It reflects badly on me, Mary. People are beginning to talk.”
“Oh, and since this is all about you, we must fix that right away,” she said sarcastically, waving her hands for emphasis.
He put his hands on his hips. “That’s not what I meant!”
She shook her head. “Bother with what you meant, Geoffrey. None of the rumors will stick to you, whatever they are.”
“But there are rumors, Mary, and I don’t think you understand…”
She heaved a sigh, interrupting him and turned to go into the box. “Please, Geoffrey, the whole point of this was to have a laugh for my last season, not for you to suddenly become sensitive.”
The glare he leveled at her retreating back would have made Colin run for cover, but it had no effect this time. “Who’s laughing?” he muttered to no one in particular as he followed her into the box and sat for what was destined to be the longest evening he had ever been forced to spend in this blasted theater, and he had had several long evenings here.
So she didn’t care what they said about him.
Well, he could play her game, too. If she would be proud and insulting and take no notice of him or their past friendship, then so would he. It wasn’t all about her during this time, not anymore. If his name was being dragged into the mire, then he wouldn’t stand by and watch.
The dark and bitter feeling in his stomach returned with a vengeance. He glared down at the stage where the actors were beginning their presentation. He paid them no mind. He found Colin in the box opposite, watching him steadily. Geoff stared back at him for a long moment, his expression very plainly telling his friend exactly what he was feeling at this moment.
Colin caught it, his smile disappeared, and he nodded, then looked towards the stage.
Geoff had absolutely no interest in the performance. If he were any less of a gentleman, he would have left at this moment and gone straight home, leaving Mary to fend for herself with her admirers and find her own escort home. But Geoffrey Harris was, after all and above all else, a gentleman. And so he would remain. He focused at the railing before him, and let his eyes unfocus for the rest of the time.
Chapter Thirteen
“Good morning, Mary!” Cassandra chirped as she fairly bounded into the breakfast room.
Mary winced and held up a hand. “Please, Cassie. Temper your tone. I am not quite myself this morning.”
Cassie’s eyes widened and she grinned mischievously. “Ah ha… You attended that dinner party at Lord Viskin’s last night, didn’t you?”
“Yes,” Mary moaned, slouching in her chair, setting her head in her hands, and putting her elbows on the table, uncharacteristically poor posture for her. “And my head has been ill ever since.”
“That’s because,” her sister continued in her brightest, most amused tone as she took a seat at the table, “Lord Viskin regularly tampers with the punch he serves. It is undoubtedly more alcohol than punch.”
“You knew?” she cried, spreading her hands far enough that she could see Cassandra plainly.
Cassie snorted and reached for some toast. “Everybody knows that.”
“I didn’t.”
She shrugged and took a bite. “Then it seems that, in spite of your best efforts, you are still not everybody.” She smirked a little and filled her plate with food.
Mary glowered and rubbed at her temples. “Strike Viskin from the list. I cannot bear this.”
“Honestly, I am surprised he made the list at all,” Cassie said around a mouthful of food. “He is not only too old for you, but a complete bore.”
A sigh escaped Mary and she craned her neck to try and work the kinks out. “He is not that old.”
“Fifty if he is a day.”
“And I’m twenty-seven.”
“You are not in the ground yet, Mary. Don’t pretend to be so desperate that even the old men looking for company actually interest you.”
Mary gave that some consideration, and shrugged. “I haven’t encouraged anybody of a certain age, but perhaps you are right. I’ll stay within a decade of my own age, fair enough?”
Cassie snorted and shook her head. “I thought lessons with Marianne were going to help you to be more discerning, Mary. If age is all you require, then by all means, have at. But if you want suitors worth having…”
She cocked a brow at her sister. “I have been more discerning. I have lost multiple scholars because they bored me, rogues because their reputations preceded them, a few timid pups because they could not take a verbal lashing, and a few card players because I bested them. What else would you have me do?”
A strange light entered Cassie’s eyes, and she almost seemed to sadden. “Spoken like a true debutante. I think my work here is done.”
Mary laughed, a little uneasily. She didn’t like the expression on her sister’s face. It wasn’t sadness or jealousy, it was… finality.
“I still haven’t managed the grace to descend a flight of stairs with books on my head,” she pointed out. “Shouldn’t that be accomplished before your resign your position?”
Cassie rolled her eyes with impatience. “Yes, of course, you should. Really, I am surprised nobody has commented on your lack of grace as yet. Shall we work on that today?” she asked as she cut into her breakfast. “Or does your head need more time to recover?”
Mary groaned and gripped the back of her neck tightly. “I need the rest. But we have the Ashcombe ball on Friday, so I need to be graceful for that.”
Cassie nearly dropped her fork. “We?” she asked, her eyes going wide. “As in…”
“Well, honestly, Cassandra,” Mary said with a roll of her eyes and a mock grimace, “you can hardly expect me to go by myself. Who will remind me to be graceful if you do not?”
The smile that spread over her sister’s face would have made Mary consider more seasons of such behavior from her if she had not already decided.
“Really?” Cassie squealed, her hands going to her mouth.
Mary nodded, smiling herself. “Really.”
Cassie squealed again, which made Mary wince as the ringing in her ears recommenced. Then Cassie was silent and gave Mary an odd look. “I didn’t think the duchess would want me anywhere near an event of her hosting.”
A very mischievous grin crossed Mary’s face just then. “Well, as I happen to be good friends with the duchess’s son and daughter-in-law, not to mention I am a bit of a toast this season, she simply had to invite me, and Kate made it quite plain that it would be very rude to neglect you when they invite me.”
“I see,” Cassie said with a smug look on her face. “It certainly does pay to have important friends, doesn’t it?”
Mary nodded. “It does indeed.”
“I’ll have to thank the marchioness when I see her next,” Cassie mused. “She hasn’t been by in some time, is she well?”
A hint of a flush crept into Mary’s cheeks and she glanced down at her mostly empty plate. “She is. Her condition is not so bad as others I have heard of, and she doesn’t require much rest yet.”<
br />
“Then why haven’t we seen her?”
Mary’s gaze moved to her hands, knotting together in her lap. “I haven’t had much time for visitors other than the callers.”
Cassie had no immediate reply, so Mary ventured a look, only to find that her sister was surprised and disappointed at the same time. “Are you really too busy for your friends?”
She didn’t need to hear this from her sister, of all people, who was the one reason Mary agreed to this ridiculous scheme at all. And now she would disapprove? She would not stand for it. She frowned, her brows snapping together, and rose from her chair.
“I will be at the opera with Mr. Burlington before the ball,” she informed her, “so you will have to go to the ball alone.”
“Alone?” Cassie cried in protest. “I cannot possibly go alone. That would be…”
“Then find your own escort,” Mary barked, putting a hand to her head as it rang still. “I have neither the time nor the patience to deal with this.”
Cassie scowled and sank in her chair moodily. “I will ask Geoffrey. He, at least, doesn’t snap at me.”
“Then you would be well suited, the pair of you,” Mary sneered. “You can disparage me the entire ride there and back home again and I will not be able to have any say in the matter.”
A confused frown appeared and Cassie tilted her head with concern. “Why would Geoff want to say anything bad about you? He would never…”
“Oh,” Mary laughed without humor, “he would. He had all sorts of things to say. He has suddenly decided not to approve of my behavior. We had a miserable time at the comedy last week. We fought the whole way there, didn’t speak at all during, and he ignored me almost the entire ride back, except for a few snide comments. I haven’t seen or heard from him since, and the peace has been almost blissful.”
That was an all-out lie, but there was no need for Cassie to know that Mary was more upset by Geoffrey’s manner than she should be. It was as if he had suddenly lost his sense of humor. Oh, she knew very well that she was partially to blame, and that her behavior was less than admirable, but that was supposed to be part of the fun. And she was having so much success with callers and admirers and suitors that she might not have to give up her dreams of marriage and family after all. Why couldn’t he see that? Nobody had wanted her as she was before, and they did now! He ought to have been pleased.
“Blissful, is it?” Cassandra asked as she stared at Mary with eyes that were too clever. “Seems rather boring to me.” She shrugged and went back to her breakfast.
Mary stood there a little awkwardly for a moment, and then turned for the hall. She rubbed at her brow with some concern, and sighed. Perhaps she ought to go back to bed and sleep this awful headache away. Blasted Lord Viskin and his terrible evening! She really would need some better advice for which events to attend and which ones to avoid like the plague. Surely there was some method to be employed somewhere.
Perhaps she should write to Kate after all. And Diana, too, if she was feeling well enough. Her son was only two months or so, and she had come to Mary’s dress fittings… She needed friends to help her, now that Geoff had… Now that he…
Well, neither of them had behaved well, she was honest enough to say that.
But how could her oldest friend become her chief critic? She wouldn’t stand for it. He thought her behavior disagreeable before? He had no idea what she was capable of. She could have more airs, more pride, more calm and cool detachment than the most hardened of females. Marianne Bray would be terrified by the creature Mary Hamilton could become. Let him watch her thrive against his wishes and expectations, let him see the sheer volume of worthy admirers she could attain, let him call her flirtatious and ridiculous and false all he wanted. She would pay him absolutely no mind unless she was forced to.
Let him see how his hated London would feel for him then.
Winston suddenly appeared and bowed before her. “Miss Hamilton, you have a visitor.”
She groaned and rubbed at her temple again. “I thought I specifically said no callers today…”
“You did, Miss,” he acknowledged with another bow. “But this gentleman says he has a note from you requesting a meeting.”
That brought her head out of her hand and she stared at her butler in confusion. “A meeting? I set up no meetings.”
“I know that, Miss, as does he. He said to forgive his impertinence, but he thought urgency might be best, once he received the note you sent.”
Still confused, Mary followed the butler down the hall towards the foyer. “Who is it, Winston?”
“Mr. Bray, Miss.”
Mary stopped in her tracks. “Oh,” she said softly. She took in a deep breath, then released it slowly. This would be very unpleasant, she feared. “Right, I must see him. Where is he?”
“The drawing room, Miss. Shall I send for some tea?”
She almost laughed, but nodded. “Yes, I think so. And extra biscuits. If half of what I have heard about him is true, we will need quite a few of them.”
“Very good, Miss Hamilton,” Winston said with a low bow as he left her in front of the drawing room doors.
The footman moved to open them, but she held up a hand.
Duncan Bray was Geoff’s best friend. Would he know about their disagreements? Would it factor into his treatment of her or his opinion? Would he believe her as readily as he might have a few days ago? She shook her head. Duncan was a sensible, kind man, despite his terrifying stature, and he had always treated her with respect and generosity. He would not be so crass as to be ungentlemanly simply because Geoff was out of humor with her.
She pulled her shoulders back, adjusted a stray wisp of hair, and nodded at the footman, who opened the door for her.
Duncan turned from the window at which he had been standing and bowed with a smile. “Miss Hamilton, I apologize for not setting a time for a meeting. I assumed you would be receiving today. I’ve heard you have a bit of a crowd control problem of late.” His smile was warm, and his piercing eyes danced with restrained mirth.
She managed a comfortable smile of her own. There was no need for pretenses with him. “That I have, Mr. Bray. It seems better since speaking with your sister, however.”
His smile dimmed a bit. “I was afraid of that.”
“No, no, it’s quite lovely,” she protested, taking a seat on the divan and gesturing for him to take a seat as well. “I wasn’t used to the degree of attention I was receiving, let alone the number of willing participants, and your sister has such experience…”
“Too much, in my opinion,” he growled.
Mary could not help but smile at his response. “Perhaps, but nevertheless, she was a great help to me, and I hope I shall be able to help her in some way in the future.”
That seemed to satisfy him. “Thank you, Miss Hamilton,” he replied softly. “I should like for Marianne to be exposed to some sensible feminine influence. I fear only having an overprotective brother does not sit well with her much of the time.”
Mary let out a small sigh, and swallowed. “I fear it is for that overprotective brother part of you that I have requested to speak with you.”
He frowned sharply. “What do you mean?”
She started to bite her lip in anxiety, then remembered she shouldn’t and opted to clench her fingers together instead. “Has Marianne told you anything about our day together last week?”
He slowly shook his head. “Not a word, beyond that she enjoyed herself.”
“Yes, well, there was one part that neither she, nor I, enjoyed at all,” Mary confessed. She hesitated, just for a moment, and then said, “I think now, as I did then, that you should hear about this from me, and then you may decide how best to proceed.”
Chapter Fourteen
The ballroom at the home of the Duke and Duchess of Ashcombe was undoubtedly the finest ballroom in London, aside from perhaps the palace itself. But even then, it was unfathomable that any place could look as magica
l and elegant as the sight currently before those fortunate enough to be in attendance. Candles blazed in every chandelier and holder, the grand windows gave sight to the immaculate gardens, all glowing in the firelight of the torches along the path, and the stars winked in on the dancers and those persons who had ventured out to the terrace and gardens for a more romantic evening. The musicians were the highest quality that could be found anywhere and their instruments gleamed proudly in the light of the room. The ladies present were as beautiful and elegant and immaculately dressed as any to be found, made more enchanting by the excitement and hope in each pair of eyes. The gentlemen, more prone to groan at such events, were as eager as young lads, and such was the attendance that partners were plenty and time had ceased to exist.
Geoffrey Harris had no such illusions. He barely noticed the splendor of the location or the ladies or the night at all. His attention was entirely focused on one particular point, and had been for the whole evening.
Mary was sitting, for a change, surrounded by as many men as he had ever seen attend her. She had been dancing the entire night, each dance and each partner as equally delightful as the previous, if her expression was anything to go by. He heard her tinkling laughter above the sounds of the musicians and he cringed at the sound. It was so grating, so false, so… not Mary.
She arrived after he and Cassandra did, which effectively ruined his evening, pleasant as it had begun, as she had swept in on Mr. Burlington’s arm. They were quite the pair together; there was not an eye in the place that had not been fixed on them for their grand entrance. The smile on her face was proud and radiant, and more than one gentleman had been scolded by his lady wife for lingering too long upon her.
Cassie had not said a word about Mary during the ride over, for which he was grateful. He was pleased to escort the girl, as everything was exciting for her these days. She had chatted cheerfully about who would be in attendance, made him tell her any gossip he knew of, and then shyly asked him if she looked presentable enough for a ball hosted by a duke and duchess.
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