Rags to Romance

by Killarney Sheffield

  He shook his head and looked heavenward. “You have the last chuckle, father. I have made a royal mess of things this time.”

  A man walking down the street looked up and then behind himself to see to whom Devon was speaking. With a puzzled look he crossed the street between dog carts and handsome cabs, as if Devon were a lecher to be avoided. Devon groaned and carried on around the corner to White’s club.

  The doorman smiled. “Good morning, Lord Dowell, lovely to see you again. Off abroad were you?”

  Devon frowned trying to recall the man’s name. “Yes … Rodney, I have just returned home from a trip to the Orient.”

  “Ah,” the young man’s eyes lit up, “I bet you brought back all manner of interesting things, eh?”

  “Yes, yes, some very fine silks, furnishings and spices, among other items.”

  The man nodded. “And I hear congratulations is in order, my lord. Rumor has it you married right before you left. Poor little bride must have been very happy to see you return.”

  Smothering a groan Devon entered the establishment. “Quite.” He nodded to the servant stationed inside the main doors. The man opened the inner set to admit him to the dining area, which one passed through to get to the gaming rooms in back. A number of gentlemen he knew in passing lifted a hand in greeting as he stalked to the back.

  “Lord Dowell, it has been a long while.” Lord Renolds matched pace with him when he entered the gaming room.

  Normally Devon enjoyed the man’s company, but today he found it irritating due to his already foul mood. “I have just returned from the very profitable trip to the Orient.”

  “Do tell?” Lord Renolds nudged him with an elbow. “Everyone was most surprised to hear you went to sea a day after marrying this mysterious woman no one has seen beyond a passing glace so far. Why I hear she is quite the beauty and uncommon. Where did you find such a treasure? Hidden away on some country estate, I heard.”

  Devon groaned. Good God, is nothing a secret? “Yes, I found her hidden away, in the country.” He stepped to the faro table and placed his wager.

  “Well, I do hope you will be attending Fellowgoods’ ball tonight so we will all finally get a look at the delectable creature who snared the most infamous bachelor in London.”

  Devon grimaced as Lord Renolds walked away. He spied two more of his acquaintances making their way toward him with purposeful looks. Perhaps he should just parade his … wife at the ball tonight and get all the questions and prying dealt with in one, quick and painful session. After all, one punch was better than one hundred jabs….

  Chapter Seventeen

  Finny came down for dinner that evening, grateful Kat and her husband decided to join them. She’d been dreading dining alone with the earl and his stepmother all day, though shopping for baby items for Kat’s nursery had taken her mind off it for a while. After smoothing her pink muslin she took a deep breath and entered the parlor with as regal a composure as she could muster. Her husband was leaning against the mantle talking to a man about his age with cooper-colored hair and mustache. He glanced at her, his gaze hardening and then looked away. Despite his subtle cut she pasted a smile on her face and greeted Kat.

  “Good evening, Kat, I am so pleased you and your husband could join us tonight.”

  Kat smiled and gave her a gentle hug. “Thank you for inviting us, Finny. It is so thoughtful of you to include us in Devon’s homecoming dinner. My husband thought we could get ready for the ball together and travel to the Fellowgoods’ afterward.”

  Finny had no doubt Kat had persuaded her husband to travel with them in order to ease the tension between her and Devon and she was grateful for it. “What a goo—what a lovely idea.” She closed her eyes a moment to collect herself and keep her speech schooled and formal.

  “Darling, come and meet Finny.” Kat turned to her husband and he broke off his conversation to cross and kiss the back of Finny’s hand.

  “I am pleased to meet you, Lady Dowell. Kat has told me so much about you.”

  Finny’s face heated as he let go of her hand and smiled. Of course he had, and most of it awful she supposed. “You are most kind, my lord. I would like to thank you for permitting me to take up so much of Kat’s time. She has been a wonderful friend and a great comfort to me whilst my husband has been away.”

  Lord Swanson cast an affectionate look at his wife and wrapped an arm around her swelling middle. “Ah, my Kat is a treasure isn’t she?”

  Lord Dowell stepped forward. “My sister is indeed a saint with a heart of gold.”

  The dowager duchess entered the room and put her quizzing glass to her eye. “Well, Rodney, it is a pleasure to see you again. It has been a while, has it not?”

  Lord Swanson crossed the room and kissed her hand. “Too long I am afraid and for that I do apologize profusely, my lady.”

  “Apology accepted. Now shall we retire to the dining room?” The dowager took Lord Swanson’s offered arm and they exited the room.

  Finny turned to her husband, but he offered Lady Swanson his arm, leaving her to trail behind. Lips pressed in disapproval, she followed. It seemed she was destined to be the odd one out tonight. She supposed she shouldn’t be surprised at her husband’s direct cut. He was still angry with her and it appeared he wasn’t yet ready to accept their marriage. Placing a serene smile on her lips she took her seat at the dining table and laid her napkin on her lap.

  Lord Swanson settled across the table from her. “So, Lady Dowell, I am sure you are excited to attend your first ball tonight on your husband’s arm.”

  She smiled and glanced out of the corner of her eye at her husband. His expression was tight and guarded. “Yes, I am as a matter of fact. Lady Swanson and I have been preparing for this night for a long while.”

  Lord Dowell cast his sister a venomous look and then dropped his gaze to his soup as it was placed before him by a servant.

  “I remember my first ball.” Lady Swanson sighed with a dreamy look. “Of course that is where I met Rodney.”

  “Um … and a magical night it was, my love,” Lord Swanson returned squeezing her hand.

  The dowager grunted. “One does not marry for romance. One marries for title, position and financial gain.”

  “Among other things,” Lord Dowell mumbled and then took a deep drink from his wine glass.

  The uncomfortable silence stretched between them as the next course was served. Finny toyed with her clams in garlic sauce. This was definitely not the homecoming she envisioned. When Lord Swanson struck up a conversation on trade and the items Lord Dowell brought back from his trip she relaxed a little and picked at her meal. At least she was no longer center of attention. Though attention had always been her goal back in Whitechapel, now however it was much more desirable to be part of the furnishings, it seemed. From time to time Lady Swanson sought to turn the conversation Finny’s way, but she mumbled a polite reply and concentrated on her meal.

  * * *

  Finny fused with the skirt of her deep blue water silk overlaid with lace studded with shiny pearls. “I feel like a fairy princess.”

  “Oh, Finny darling, you look beautiful,” Lady Swanson gushed and came to stand behind her.

  Studying the two of them together in the full length mirror Finny couldn’t tell who was the fine lady and who was the guttersnipe. Her once sawed-off hair was now deep mahogany falling to her shoulders. Strand by stand it had been curled by the dressing maid and was now piled in delicate ringlets atop her head, secured with tiny pearl encrusted combs and a deep blue ribbon matching her gown. A little lip color and a touch of pink on her cheeks and she looked every inch the fine lady she was supposed to be. “Do you really think I can get his lordship, I mean my husband, to fall in love with me?” she whispered, almost afraid to ask the question out loud.

  Lady Swanson gave her shoulders a light squeeze. “I know you can, Finny. Hold your head high and remember all the things I’ve taught you, and I swear he will be a smitten kitten at y
our feet in no time.”

  With a smile Finny turned, resting a hand against her churning insides. “Thank you, I owe you a debt I hope to repay one day for your kindness.”

  “There are no thanks needed. The happiness of you and my brother will be thanks enough.” She glanced over her shoulder at the closed door and added in conspiratorial whisper, “Besides, it is devilish fun to see my stepmother put in her place for once.” With a wink and a grin she hurried to the bedchamber door. “Come along now, it is not fashionable to make the men wait too long.”

  After one last look in the mirror Finny raised her chin and followed. She stepped with care down the staircase, afraid to topple her hair or that she might trip on the trailing dress. By the time she reached the bottom of the stairs Lady Swanson had entered the parlor. Finny paused a moment, took a deep breath and sailed across the foyer. At the same moment Lord Dowell rounded the corner from the direction of his study. He stopped short when he spied her, his jaw dropping.

  He closed his mouth with a snap. “Ah, I mean … um … you look … lovely.”

  “Do ye think so?” She bit her lip when she remembered she was to accept the compliment gracefully. “Th—thank you, my lord—husband.” Dropping her gaze to the floor she bit her lip. Leave it to her to mess everything up without Lady Swanson there to help her.

  Lord Dowel cleared his throat. “Yes, well, I suppose we should join the others … in the parlor.”

  When she glanced up he offered a stiff arm to her. Remembering her lessons, she placed her hand lightly atop his sleeve and allowed him to escort her inside.

  “And of course I said….” the dowager trailed off with a gasp.

  “My dear ladies, you look stunning,” Lord Swanson exclaimed.

  The heat in her cheeks made her bow her head and for a moment she regretted letting the maid add a spot of color to them. Surely now her face was as red as the pickled beets they had at dinner. “Thank you.”

  “Just because you dress up a mule doesn’t make it more than a barn animal,” the dowager mumbled.

  Finny shot her a dirty look and then glanced at Lord Dowell. His jaw was clenched in a tight line but a frozen smile lingered on his lips. He looked down and met her gaze for the briefest moment and she thought she detected a trace of pity there before he looked away.

  Lord Swanson cleared his throat. “Well, shall we be on our way? We don’t want to be too fashionably late now do we?”

  “Yes, dear.” Lady Swanson placed her hand on his offered arm and they headed for the carriage brought around front.

  Lord Dowell escorted Finny to the carriage and helped her aboard. When he sat beside her she pretended to fuss with her skirts to hide her nervousness at his closeness. His warm leg settled against hers made her tingle. She dared sneak a peek at him from beneath her lashes as they pulled away. His wavy sun-kissed hair was parted just so, brushing his collar in a way that made her want to run her fingers through it. Her fingers curled of their own accord in her gloves and she smoothed her skirt to keep them from shaking. Sea-bronzed skin made a healthy contrast to his starched white shirt and black jacket. With a tiny smile she realized his deep blue waistcoat matched perfectly with her dress. Was it just a coincidence or had he or his manservant planned it that way? Either way, the effect pleased her. They belonged together as a pair.

  He glanced down at her and their eyes met. For a minute she was mesmerized by his deep blue eyes, almost the color of his waistcoat. No knight in shining armor could possibly be as handsome, she decided, as he. In a moment of reckless vulnerability she slipped the delicate scented handkerchief Lady Swanson insisted she carry from her reticule and pressed it into his hand. Would he accept her token like the knights did in the tales she heard as a child?

  He looked startled for a second and then stuffed it in his pocket. “So, dear sister, is this to be your last dancing affair before your lying-in period?”

  Lady Swanson sighed. “Yes, I am afraid so. I am starting to show and it is getting impossible to hide it anymore. It shall be a long summer cooped up in the country.”

  “Never fear, I shall endeavor to call upon you as often as I can. I will be leaving London for Candlewick in a few days to supervise the rest of the renovations. Perhaps by late fall you will be able to help me plan a lavish ball to celebrate the estate’s grand opening.”

  “Oh, that sounds lovely, doesn’t it Finny?” Lady Swanson gushed. “I will be sure to help Finny with all the plans. It will give me something to look forward to while Rodney is handling his business in London.”

  The coach was silent as it rumbled along the cobblestone streets to the home of their hosts. Thankfully before long it pulled up in front of a brightly lit mansion. Footmen lined the steps to help guests from their conveyances. When it was their turn Lord Dowell opened the door and stepped down. He turned back, helped his mother out and then offered his hand to Finny. Pressing a smile to her lips she placed her hand in his, suddenly wishing she had left off her gloves, and stepped down. When her heel tangled in the hem of her gown she stumbled and he steadied her.

  “Let me help you.” He bent down and freed the lace before straightening and placing his hand over hers on his sleeve.

  “Thank you,” she breathed, both embarrassed at her near disaster and pleased he sought to help her.

  A tip of his head was his acknowledgment before he led her up the steps into a crowded foyer. People turned to greet him and Finny found herself the subject of many open stares. Women whispered behind their fans and she held her head high. Let them gossip. She would show them the great lady who won the most sought-after bachelor in all of London. Let all the jealous women whisper and stare. With a smug smile she stared each one down. Red-faced, they looked away. Her glee tempted her to stick out her tongue but one look at Lady Swanson’s slight shake of head made her reconsider. No doubt she would be appalled at Finny’s gesture. Despite it she stuck her tongue out at the back of one especially rude woman whose whispered comment, “I hear she’s some country mouse,” was overheard.

  At the sudden hitch in Lord Dowell’s breath she glanced up. He covered a slight grin behind a phony cough and she realized he was attempting to smother his laughter. Was he reveling in her discomfort? Biting her lip, she scowled at him and then directed her attention to the double doors as they were ushered forward by a footman.

  “Introducing his lordship and his new bride, Lord and Lady Dowell.”

  The room hushed as they entered and every eye settled on them. Finny’s hands and knees shook and for a moment she thought she would be ill. The bile rose to the back of her throat and she held her breath to force it back down. The crowd parted for them as they made their way to the chairs lining the far wall. Finny began to feel faint and clutched Lord Dowel’s arm.

  He dipped his head toward her. “For God’s sake, you’re turning blue. You better breathe before you pass out,” he muttered.

  She let out her breath in a loud whoosh. A couple of the nearest ladies tittered and she glared at them. “Thanks.”

  “Don’t mention it.”

  “Why? Isn’t it proper?” she returned eying the chairs.

  “Isn’t what proper?”

  Fearing she already blundered she mumbled, “Never mind.” And then took her seat.

  “Would you like some punch?”

  She smiled and then leaned closer to him. “No thank you. If I drink too much I’ll never manage in the privy with all these layers of petticoats under here.”

  He turned away in a hurry and Finny swore she detected him snicker. Oh dear. I’ve messed up again. When Lady Swanson sat beside her she whispered. “I can’t do this.”

  Lady Swanson smiled and patted her hand. “Yes you can. You are doing wonderfully, Finny.”

  Finny bit her lip to smother a sigh and focused on the other couples in the room. Gowns of every imaginable shade and style swirled along the dance floor to a soft tune. Searching for the source of the music Finny discovered a quartet seated on
a small raised stage just beyond the refreshment table. She swallowed the saliva pooling in her mouth at the sight of the table laden with pastries, bottles and punch bowls. Footmen dressed in red and gold filled glasses upon request and passed them to men and women seeking a drink. Delicate pastel-colored vases decorated every available surface, containing tiny pale pink rose buds garnished with white and green ivy. Finny wondered if they smelled as pretty as they looked, but when she took a deep breath all she detected was a kaleidoscope of women’s perfume, men’s cologne and body sweat.

  Wrinkling her nose, she looked up at the ceiling. She gasped when she spied herself in the mirrors above. It was strange to be looking at herself from afar, but she took advantage of it to gauge how well she fit in. She looked like every other lady in attendance, slightly flushed and dressed to impress. Pasting a smile on her lips she checked out the other women as discreetly as possible. Most were laughing and engaging in animated conversations. A few like her sat quietly watching the festivities, either waiting to be asked to dance or for a partner to bring them refreshments. Aye, I look just like them dandified women. Only I’m on a very important quest. She caught sight of Lord Dowell conversing at the refreshment table with an older gentleman. He seemed very interested in whatever it was they were talking about as he nodded and replied. Without warning he looked up, swung his gaze across the ceiling and he locked eyes with her in the mirror.

  I will make you fall in love with me. His eyes widened as if he heard her internal thoughts. A small smile curved his lips before he returned his attention to the man beside him. Time for the next part of her plan. Papa always said you plan your card moves in advance and always keep an ace up your sleeve. Well, Finny Donnelly has more than one ace hidden. Finny stood, smoothed her dress, looped her reticule around her wrist and prepared to dazzle her husband. Pasting what she hoped was a brilliant smile to her lips she put all her effort into gliding across the floor. Lord Dowell looked up as she came to a halt before him.