Ambersley (Lords of London)

by Amy Atwell

  ~

  Over three hundred guests replied favorably to the duke’s gracious invitation to a ball honoring his sister and his ward. Nigel Minton found himself among the select guests included for an early supper at the house on Grosvenor Square. “My lord, I’m here, but I fear there may have been a mistake, for surely you didn’t mean to include me at table. I’ll certainly understand and wait elsewhere if—”

  Derek drew the solicitor forward. “Pritchard and I made no mistake. You’re one of Lady Johanna’s guardians. Of course you’re to be included at the supper table. Fear not, Minton, it’s not as if I’ve seated you next to His Highness.”

  Minton’s eyes widened behind his spectacles.

  Knowing the situation could turn explosive as a powder keg if Rosalie recognized Johanna as the former gardener’s son, Derek had laid his strategies with as much care as any precarious battle. The invitation to Minton and the Coatworths asked them to arrive a full half hour before anyone else, allowing Johanna to prepare to meet his stepmother. Dressed in a simple cream-colored gown with aqua colored ribbons drawn under her high breasts, her chestnut hair piled atop her head with a single ringlet of curls allowed to escape over one shoulder, and the prized choker of pearls adorning her throat, Derek could hardly believe the heiress had once been a grubby boy.

  The Vaughans arrived punctually. Derek had expected no less since his stepmother was acting as hostess for the evening. He would have preferred bestowing that honor upon Aunt Bess, but saw no sense in baiting Rosalie’s ire needlessly. Derek greeted his family as they entered the drawing room and knew the moment Rosalie’s gaze lighted on Johanna. Her lips closed together in a thin line of displeasure. Derek wisely avoided all eye contact with Harry.

  Barely concealing her contempt, Rosalie’s eyes narrowed on the heiress. After all her years of toil and patience, it was galling to meet this girl whose reappearance had robbed her family of their fortune. The girl possessed an uncanny resemblance to the gardener’s son—the same coloring, the same eyes. But then, Curtis and Olivia shared many of the same features. No, Lady Johanna, nervousness reflected in her huge aqua eyes, was a princess who’d never known a day of toil. If she ever learned her dear father had sired a bastard, she’d probably faint.

  Rosalie contemplated that lovely possibility as the heiress stepped forward at Derek’s invitation to be presented. “Lady Vaughan, ’tis a pleasure to finally meet the rest of my distant cousins. Thank you for inviting the Coatsworths and I tonight. It was most gracious of you.” She smiled demurely and dipped a curtsey.

  Rosalie perused her from head to foot. “You’re wearing the Vaughan pearls. How lovely.” Forcing a smile, she motioned to her children. “This is your cousin, Olivia, and your cousin, Curtis.”

  Johanna expected a friendly welcome from Olivia, but seven months of her mother’s constant tutelage showed its effects as Olivia lifted a brow and spoke with icy courtesy. “How do you do, Cousin Johanna?”

  Curtis stepped forward to bow over her hand. “Your servant, Cousin. I hope you’ll save me a dance this evening.”

  Johanna had to acknowledge that if she’d never met Curtis before, he would have made the most favorable impression of the three. As it was, she saw past the present—his raven hair, smiling blue eyes, and handsomely curling lip—to the tormentor of her past.

  Despite her reservations, she drummed up a smile. “Of course, for you, Cousin, anything.”

  Olivia frowned, but Lady Vaughan’s satisfaction broadened at this exchange.

  Derek had no trouble foreseeing where Rosalie’s mercenary mind would lead her. She was already busy arranging a marriage between Curtis and Johanna, granting her direct access to the Vaughan fortune.

  Supper was a formal affair with sixteen at table. His Highness the Prince Regent sat at Lady Vaughan’s right while Lady Jersey earned the distinction of being seated to Derek’s right. Johanna found herself seated mid-table with Mr. Minton on one hand and Curtis on the other. She suppressed the urge to shift her chair away from her cousin and tried to engage in normal conversation. She was pleasantly surprised his manners were that of a gentleman throughout the meal. The Prince Regent smiled and waved at her from his position at the foot of the table, and Lady Vaughan looked as if she’d snapped up a canary. It was the most exhausting supper in Johanna’s memory.

  Following supper, both Johanna and Olivia and their families participated in the receiving line. Johanna silently hoped she would never hostess another ball in her life. If not for Harry’s sense of humor, she might not have survived. At the head of the line, Derek had trouble focusing his attention on Lord and Lady Sumner when Johanna’s laughter pealed through the hall.

  Not one to go unnoticed, Lady Sumner raised her voice to introduce her youngest daughter, Charis.

  Derek took the lady’s hand and bowed over it. When he raised his eyes, he was astonished to see a true beauty before him. Charis Sumner, blonde and green-eyed, had a glorious complexion of ivory and dusty rose. Her dress was a pale yellow color, and clung to her well-formed frame. Derek, foreseeing a long night with few pleasurable moments, requested Miss Sumner to save him a dance. She blushed prettily, and her mother smiled broadly.

  “There now, Your Grace, I knew you’d enjoy meeting my Charis. She’s the best of the lot, just been presented this week. This is her first ball, and I hope she’ll take.”

  Derek murmured a polite reply as he sighted the Sedgefields and Lord Worthing approach. Damn, he should have reviewed Rosalie’s guest list. He steeled himself to parry pleasantries with St. John.

  Paget and Mr. Pritchard looked on as the ballroom filled with gentlemen in knee breeches and young ladies in sheer dresses every color of a pastel rainbow. “You are to be commended, Mr. Pritchard,” Paget acknowledged. “We are well-attended tonight.”

  Pritchard gave a deprecating shake of his head. “My task was simple. With the duke’s and Lady Johanna’s names on the invitation, practically everyone accepted. You and Mrs. North had the difficult chore of preparing the house. Not an enviable undertaking, I’m certain.”

  “Yes, Mrs. North and her staff made a heroic effort. The house is fit for royalty.” The two men allowed themselves to smile. After a quick meeting of eyes, they returned to their duties.

  Derek entered the ballroom with Sally Jersey on his arm.

  “Emily Cowper has told me she’s approved your sister for admission to Almack’s,” Lady Jersey said. “I shall want to meet your ward. She looked a fetching thing at dinner. Does she know her right foot from her left?”

  “Well enough to lead the dandies on a merry chase. But she has a good heart, and a wit which may one day rival your own.”

  “Flatterer.” Lady Jersey laughed. “Her fortune’s intact?”

  “More so than mine these days,” Derek said with a rueful smile. “She comes with the largest dowry London has seen this generation. There’s no property or title, but her money is invested in the Exchange and will grow annually. Invite her to Almack’s and you’ll have the highest male attendance you’ve seen in years.”

  “As if that’s all we care about,” she replied indignantly. But they both knew it was the truth.

  Aunt Bess watched couples forming for the quadrille and experienced a pang of longing. How many years had it been since she’d stepped onto the floor?

  Nigel Minton sketched her a bow. “Might I beg this dance, Mrs. Coatsworth?”

  She pictured herself as one of the light-hearted women before her, and her pulse quickened. Despite his thinning gray hair and wrinkled brow, Mr. Minton had a wiry athletic figure, and she suspected he might prove a most able partner. “Thank you, Mr. Minton, I would enjoy that. Perhaps this one dance, and then, do you by chance play cards?” She spotted a gleam in his eyes even behind his spectacles.

  “I have a penchant for whist, madam.”

  “Then let us retire to the card room after, for I’m sure Johanna is in very capable hands.” Aunt Bess allowed Minton to squire her onto
the floor.

  Having promised to deliver the coveted Almack’s vouchers to the house on Portman Square, Lady Jersey continued her rounds, leaving Derek, Harry and Johanna to sip their champagne.

  Johanna touched Harry’s sleeve. “Tell me about Lord Worthing. Don’t you think he resembles Derek?” She tilted her glass toward the nobleman, looking equally elegant to the first time she’d seen him.

  Derek coughed up his drink.

  Harry looked from one to the other. “You’d best steer clear of Worthing, Johanna. He’s a bit of a rake.”

  “Him?” She’d heard the term, but this was the first time she’d seen such a man. “He was most courteous to me at the Sedgefield ball.”

  “Lady Sedgefield is his eldest sister. Stickler for propriety. The Trevarthans have never known scandal, publicly at least.”

  “Johanna, I’ll not countenance you associating with him,” Derek said.

  “But he said he was your friend.”

  “Did he?” Derek replied cordially. “He lied.” He set his empty glass on a table and quit their presence.

  Johanna turned wide eyes to Harry. “How am I ever to understand him?”

  “Worthing and Derek were in the same class at Eton, but Worthing’s connections were far superior then. He ostracized Derek, made his life at school pure hell.”

  “Why?”

  Harry shrugged. “Prove his power, prove his worth. Derek was only eleven when his mother was tried for murder, and his family lost many friends and supporters. No one wished to be associated with such a notorious scandal.”

  She thought upon this while she watched Derek wend his way through the crowded room. She’d known the story of his mother’s dark history since her childhood, but she’d never stopped to consider how it affected him. Derek was simply…Derek. “Why did he leave home?”

  “He and his father argued over something. Derek won’t discuss it.”

  For the first time, Johanna saw Derek as more than the handsome duke or even a friend. He was a man with a troubled past, a youth whose mother committed a heinous crime and blackened his whole family’s reputation.

  “But, Johanna,” Harry cautioned, “I wouldn’t trust Worthing. Though he and Derek have had a truce, I think he’d like to see Derek embroiled in another scandal.”

  She had no opportunity to reply before Curtis arrived with a flourishing bow. “Cousin Johanna, they’re forming up for the Roger de Coverley. Won’t you join me?”

  Johanna smiled, and handed her glass to Harry. “Most assuredly, Cousin Curtis.”

  Derek traversed the ballroom, greeting the masses with a tight smile, until he ran his quarry to ground. “Worthing.”

  “Ambersley.” St. John nodded. “So kind of you to invite me.”

  “I believe my stepmother invited you.”

  “Ah, did she? No doubt she fancies a title for your sister. Thank you for the warning.”

  “I’ll give you another,” Derek said. “Johanna is not for you.”

  St. John blinked then his mouth widened into an uncharacteristic grin. “I’ve barely met the young lady, much less declared my intentions.”

  “I’ve never had reason to trust you intentions, St. John, and I won’t see her hurt.” Derek stared into eyes as blue as his own. “Take whatever revenge you seek on me, but leave her alone.”

  His rival sobered. “Revenge is overrated.” He stepped away then turned back. “I regret I destroyed our friendship, Derek. Your duty to your ward is to be commended.”

  Derek watched St. John move among the throng, a man assured of his place in Society. He, too, was sorry their early friendship had suffered, but protecting Johanna far outweighed trusting St. John now.

  Johanna tripped by on Curtis’s arm as they danced. The way she smiled at his brother hit him like a bayonet lunge to the gut. Derek released a slow breath to control his reaction. He would have to bear watching her with numerous potential suitors for the next few months. At this rate, it was going to be an interminable Season.

  “I say, Ambersley, been wanting to ask you all night, who cuts your coats?” The Prince Regent creaked up to stand beside Derek who cooled his thoughts as he lost himself in idle prattle with royalty for the next half hour.

  Seeing Derek delayed by His Highness, Lady Vaughan left the ballroom to supervise the laying out of the midnight buffet. The evening was not going as planned. First, Derek was looking and acting every inch the duke. One day, he would sorely regret his betrayal, for she was even more determined to see Curtis take over Ambersley.

  Second, Lord Worthing had proven as elusive as a fox. Though she disliked him, she recognized that he rivaled Derek in being the marriage catch of the past five seasons, and she wanted to introduce him to Olivia. Instead, she’d watched her daughter dance off with Worthing’s young, handsome, and poor cousin, Mr. Barlow.

  Olivia was faring well tonight, despite her nerves, but she was being eclipsed by Lady Johanna and that Sumner chit. Who would credit it? The elder two Sumner girls had been drab little birds. Why did the youngest have to be a diamond of the first water? It was not to be borne. Rosalie would have her revenge—on all of them.

  Approaching the table, she checked her reflection in the silver punch bowl and touched the feathers in her hair. Her façade was unshaken—poised, polished, unflappable. She may seethe within but knew how to bide until the right moment. Tonight she must portray the successful chatelaine.

  Further down the table, Paget was deeply engaged in supervising the arrangement of chafing dishes. Finally, someone she could command without question.

  “Paget, it’s been too long. How is everything at home?”

  He gave a brief nod of acknowledgment. “Very good, my lady.”

  She eyed the table’s length. “It’s quite a spread you’re preparing. But the staff has been serving champagne since the dancing began. You must put a stop to it.”

  Paget bowed. “My apologies, my lady, but as the champagne was purchased by Lady Johanna, only she or his lordship may stop the serving of it. Believe me, we’ll not run out.” He watched her without blinking.

  Her hands clenched, fingernails biting into her palms despite her gloves. Again, that Vaughan chit denied Rosalie her due. She’d find a way to dominate the heiress. The obvious solution was for Curtis to wed her. The more she contemplated the idea, the more she approved the potential results. Curtis would become wealthier than Derek, and that little heiress could be buried at Ambersley raising a passel of babies. Indeed, the only hindrance to her plan was securing Derek’s approval to let the girl wed his brother.

  Heavens—he wouldn’t have designs of his own on the heiress, would he? Gathering her skirts, Rosalie hurried back to the ballroom to watch the heiress’s every move.

  As they sashayed through the country dance, Harry regaled Johanna with the story of his meeting Lady Charis. “A true beauty, and very elegant on her feet, but absolutely lacking in conversation. I asked if she were enjoying the evening, and she said ’yes.’ I asked if she wanted to partake of the buffet, and she said ’no.’ I was tempted to ask if she wanted to sneak away with me onto the balcony for a kiss just to see if it would shock her into more than a single word answer.”

  Johanna laughed at his foolery in a most unladylike manner. “A kiss on the balcony? How wicked of you—imagine your horror if she’d answered ’please!’”

  Harry shouted with laughter.

  “You’re disrupting the floor,” Derek whispered loudly as he danced by with none other than Charis Sumner.

  Harry and Johanna shared a look and retired to the refreshments table where they could laugh their fill.

  “Are you enjoying your evening, Lady Charis?” Derek asked the beauty.

  “Yes, Your Grace,” she managed to reply, a pretty color rising in her cheeks.

  Derek tried again. “Will you be remaining in London for the Season?”

  She nodded mutely.

  Derek sighed inwardly. It was so often the case with the non
pareils—they shone like diamonds, but there was nothing beyond the first flash. He wondered how long the dance would last, and then sighted Johanna and Harry from the corner of his eye. Harry handed her a glass of champagne with a smile. Johanna accepted it and took a long slow sip, her eyes never leaving Charis. There her smile faded.

  Derek considered the beauty in his arms in a new light. They’d told Johanna how sought after she would be, but did she understand what a prize Derek was considered on the marriage mart? Perhaps an illustration might make her look upon him more favorably.

  He spun his partner and spied Rosalie on the opposite side of the room. Her tight-lipped smile and narrow eyes revealed her displeasure. Derek’s lips twitched, but he held back from gloating. His stepmother’s resentment toward Johanna was palpable. If she ever guessed he planned to wed his distant cousin, she’d do everything in her power to destroy his plans.