by Joan Wolf
The music stopped and everyone on the floor applauded.
“Come,” Alex said. “I’ll take you back to your mother.”
As Sally had stood in the receiving line, she’d kept looking for one particular face, but it never came.
Stop being such an idiot, she told herself, as she danced with a variety of admiring young men and made superficial conversation. Halfway through the evening, she was sitting on one of the chairs along the wall with Lord Dorset, sipping punch during a break in the dancing, when Henrys appeared in the door of the ballroom and announced with impressive dignity, “His Grace, the Duke of Sinclair.”
Sally’s head jerked around, and there he was, standing in the doorway, his dark blond hair illuminated by the great chandelier. Her heart began to beat faster.
“Now there’s a surprise,” Lord Dorset said. “One doesn’t usually see Sinclair at an affair like this.”
Apparently Lord Dorset was not the only one to be surprised. It seemed to Sally as if half the people in the ballroom had turned to stare at the duke.
He appeared superbly unconscious of the attention he was attracting, and moved with smooth grace to greet his hostess, Lady Standish. If she was surprised to see him, she hid it well. She smiled at him and they stood talking for a few moments. Then the music started up again, dancers began to move onto the floor, and the focus of the ballroom shifted away from the notorious duke.
“I wonder what he’s up to,” Lord Dorset said.
“Perhaps he just came to be sociable,” Sally returned a little breathlessly.
Lord Dorset made a sound indicative of disbelief.
Sally knew the exact second that Sinclair saw her. She watched him crossing the room until he was standing in front of her. “Lady Sarah,” he said. “How nice to see you again.”
Sally hoped she did not look as overwhelmed as she was feeling. “Your Grace. It was good of you to come to our ball.”
The duke glanced at Lord Dorset. “You won’t mind if Lady Sarah and I have a dance, will you, Dorset?”
Lord Dorset obviously did mind, but there was nothing he could do about it. Sinclair was, after all, a duke. “Or course not,” he said tightly.
The dance was a country one, so there was no chance for Sally and the duke to have a conversation. When it had finished, the duke said, “I took you away from your punch, Lady Sarah. Would you like to have another glass?”
“Yes, thank you,” Sally replied.
So it was that she found herself sitting along the ballroom wall, with the Duke of Sinclair beside her, each of them sipping champagne punch.
“I am glad to see you, Your Grace,” she said. “I wanted to tell you that the climbing boy we rescued is happily settled at Standish Court. Our head groom and his wife, who have no children, have taken him to be their adopted son. I have wanted to thank you for your help that day, Your Grace. If you hadn’t come along, I don’t know what I would have done.”
His green eyes regarded her enigmatically over the rim of his punch glass. “I’m sure you would have prevailed somehow, Lady Sarah. You were very determined to rescue that child.”
“Yes, I was. I have done some research on climbing boys since then, and I feel very strongly that it is a practice that must be stopped. In fact, I have joined a society whose purpose is to get Parliament to pass a bill outlawing the use of children to clean chimneys.”
“It is certainly a deplorable practice,” he said.
“There are no words to describe how hateful it is,” Sally said forcefully. Her large blue eyes flashed. “If people would only refuse to employ chimney sweeps who use climbing boys, the practice would stop on its own. It is perfectly feasible to clean a chimney by using a long-handled broom. That is how we always had our chimneys cleaned at Standish Court. I never knew about climbing boys until I found Jem.”
“There are a lot of ugly things that happen in London that you didn’t see in the country, Lady Sarah,” the duke said.
She searched his eyes, but she could not read him. “Yes,” she said. “I know. At home, if people are poor, there is always someone to help them…family, neighbors, us. In London, no one seems to be responsible for the poor.”
“And does that bother you?”
“Yes. It does.”
He put his glass down on the chair next to him. “Let me give you a warning, Lady Sarah. Life is hard for those who care too much. Now, if you have finished your punch, I will take you to your mother.”
Alex did his duty, dancing with as many unmarried young ladies as he could and being charming to their mothers. He didn’t try to dance again with Diana, but he kept track of her and whom she was dancing with, and he was surprised to see her go out to the floor a second time with the Earl of Rumford. And the second dance was a waltz.
One dance by Rumford with a beautiful girl was not noteworthy, two dances were.
Alex happened to be dancing with Lady Caroline Wrentham. He looked into her cool blue eyes and said, “I thought Rumford was supposed to be engaged to the Longford girl, and there he is, dancing for the second time with my cousin.”
“The engagement is not official yet,” Lady Caroline said.
“They aren’t even betting on it in the clubs, it’s considered such a sure thing,” Alex said.
Lady Caroline raised two perfectly arched eyebrows. “You men are so disgusting,” she said. “You bet on anything.”
Alex smiled. “I would never bet on a lady’s possible marriage, Lady Caroline, I promise you.”
“But you know about the bets.”
“In this case, it’s the lack of bets. And I know everything about all the eligible bachelors in the ton. My mother hounded me to get the information. She doesn’t want my sister to waste her time on someone who isn’t suitable.”
Lady Caroline nodded her golden head in agreement. She was a very elegant-looking girl, tall and reed slim. She and Alex made a striking couple.
“I was at the house party last fall where Miss Longwood and Lord Rumford met,” she said. “It was his first social outing after his mourning period was finished. She was very nice to him and apparently the relationship flourished. But as far as I know, he hasn’t come up to scratch, yet. At least nothing has been published in the papers.”
Alex looked at Diana circling in the arms of Lord Rumford, who was gazing at her as if she were a goddess.
Alex scowled. “Miss Longwood isn’t here tonight, is she?”
“No, I don’t believe she is.”
There was a noise at the door and a streak of brown-and-white came racing into the room, followed by a footman in hot pursuit.
“Oh my God,” Alex groaned, “it’s Freddie.” He stopped dancing.
Lady Caroline looked at the spaniel who was running wild among the dancers, trailing his leash. “Is that your dog, my lord?”
“No.”
Everyone stopped dancing and the music came to a halt.
“Freddie!” Diana’s voice was clear above the murmur of many voices. “Here I am, boy! How did you get in here?”
The frightened dog spotted her and raced in her direction. Diana dropped down to pet him reassuringly. His tail began to beat back and forth and he barked twice.
Alex took Lady Caroline’s hand and towed her along until they reached Diana’s side. The footman reached her at the same time.
“Thomas,” Alex said sternly. “How did the dog get in here?”
“I’m that sorry, my lord,” the young man replied miserably. “I was taking him up the stairs to Miss Sherwood’s room after his nightly outing, and when we reached this landing he just pulled the leash out of my hand and ran in here.”
“He heard the music,” Diana said. “Freddie loves music.”
Sally arrived at their side. She was laughing as she bent to pet Freddie. “Now everyone will remember our ball, Diana,” she said. “It will be ‘the ball where the dog got loose.’”
The two girls smiled at each other.
“Get him
out of here,” Alex said to the footman.
“Yes, my lord,” the footman said. He bent and picked up Freddie’s leash. “I’m sorry,” he said again.
“He seems to be a very sweet dog,” Lady Caroline said to Diana as Freddie was led away.
“He is,” Diana returned. She looked at Lady Caroline’s hand and for the first time Alex realized that he was still holding it. He dropped it hastily.
Lord Rumford said, “You appear to love animals, Miss Sherwood.” He looked as if he thought that this was a miraculous trait.
“Oh, Diana is a regular Saint Francis,” Sally said cheerfully. “You should see her with horses. She’s magic.”
Her dancing partner, one of the many young men who had been squiring her around over the past few weeks, said, “I don’t believe I’ve ever seen that happen before, a dog getting loose in a ballroom.”
Alex raised his voice and said to the people who were watching them, “Hopefully Freddie has been put to bed.” He looked at the orchestra. “You can resume playing, thank you.”
The orchestra picked up the music smoothly and the couples on the floor turned to each other once again and began to dance.
A few days prior to the ball, as they were sitting at dinner, Diana had asked Lady Standish that a last-minute invitation be dispatched to Miss Charlotte Merton, her father and her aunt, Lady Mary Barlow. She and Mrs. Sherwood had twice more met Sir Gilbert walking his dog in the park, and Diana heartily approved of a man who took care of his own animal and did not hand off the job to servants. She had also met his daughter at Almack’s and Miss Merton had seemed to be a very nice young lady. Diana thought that the Mertons would appreciate an invitation to one of the premiere social events of the Season, and so she had suggested the invitation.
Lady Standish did not know either the Mertons or Lady Mary Barlow, however, and she had demurred. “We haven’t seen them at any of the affairs that we have attended,” she said. “They can’t be among the best people.”
“They have just arrived from the country and they were at Almack’s this week,” Diana had said. “If they have the entrée into Almack’s, surely they are socially acceptable.”
Lady Standish had looked a little exasperated, which was unusual for her. She had been finding the preparations for the ball rather stressful. “We have a huge crowd coming as it is, Diana. I don’t want to send out any more invitations.”
Diana had flushed. “I’m sorry, Cousin Amelia. I didn’t mean to annoy you. I am fully cognizant of how kind you have been to me. Forget I mentioned the Mertons.”
“I knew a Lieutenant Albert Merton in the army,” Alex said quietly. “He was in my unit when I first arrived in the Peninsula. He was killed at Salamanca. Before the battle he asked me to write a letter to his family in Sussex if he should die.”
Mrs. Sherwood said softly, “Sir Gilbert is from Sussex.”
There was no expression on Alex’s face. “That was the name of Albert’s father,” he said. “Sir Gilbert Merton.”
A little silence fell on the room. Alex looked at the tablecloth, his face still unreadable.
“Did you write the letter?” Lady Standish asked.
“Yes,” Alex said, his voice barely audible.
Lady Standish signaled for the next course to be served. “Well then,” she had said briskly, “we shall certainly invite the Mertons. If you will give me their direction, Diana, I will send a card off tomorrow morning.”
Diana dragged her eyes away from Alex’s face. “Thank you, Cousin Amelia,” she had said.
So it was that Sir Gilbert Merton was present at the ball and came up to greet Mrs. Sherwood after Freddie had been dragged out of the room. “Freddie certainly made his presence felt tonight, didn’t he ma’am?” he asked with a chuckle.
Mrs. Sherwood smiled back. “It’s a good thing he didn’t knock anybody over. Then we would have been in real trouble.”
Diana’s mother had been standing by herself, watching her daughter dance with Lord Rumford. She was dressed in a gold silk gown and her unfashionably long brown hair was caught in a chignon on the nape of her neck. Sir Gilbert said, “Would you care for a glass of punch, ma’am? Hanging around these balls watching the young ones dance is thirsty work.”
“Why, thank you,” Mrs. Sherwood replied. “I would like a glass of punch very much.”
Once the punch had been fetched, the two of them went to sit on the uncomfortable, straight-backed chairs that lined the ballroom walls.
“Is your husband here, ma’am?” he asked, scanning the floor as if he could conjure the man up.
Mrs. Sherwood shook her head. “My husband was killed at the Battle of Coruña, Sir Gilbert.” She took a sip of her punch. The wedding ring she still wore glinted a little as her hand moved.
There was a short silence. Then Sir Gilbert said gruffly, “I lost a son at Salamanca.”
“I know,” Mrs. Sherwood said gently. “Lord Standish mentioned him the other night. I believe your son had asked him to write you a letter.”
“He wrote me a very kind letter,” Sir Gilbert said. He stared down at the punch in his hand. “It was very good of him to do so.”
“It is a terrible thing to lose a child,” Mrs. Sherwood said.
“Yes.” Finally Sir Gilbert took a sip of punch. His gray eyes looked bleak. “If my wife hadn’t been dead already, I think the news would have killed her.”
Out on the floor the music stopped and the gentlemen who had the next dance on the girls’ dance cards moved in the direction of their new partners.
“Your daughter is very beautiful,” Sir Gilbert said, changing the subject. “I’ve been watching her. She has danced every single dance.”
“I’ve noticed that your daughter has been busy, as well,” Mrs. Sherwood said.
“Lord Standish has seen to that,” Sir Gilbert said. “He must have introduced a dozen young men to Charlotte. My sister is in heaven.”
They both looked toward Lady Mary Barlow, who was sitting among the chaperones beaming like the sun.
“Your daughter is a pretty girl,” Mrs. Sherwood said. “I’m sure most young men are happy to dance with her.”
“Frankly, I wasn’t much in favor of this London come-out business,” Sir Gilbert said. “But Charlotte wanted it, and my sister offered to sponsor her if I would pay the bills. The money is not the issue. I have more than enough of that to pay for a Season. But Charlotte’s the only child I have left, and I don’t want to lose her to some man who will take her to live far away from me. I’d much rather her marry one of the men from home.”
“There’s only so much influence a parent can have, Sir Gilbert,” Mrs. Sherwood said resignedly. “In the end, the young will go their own way. We don’t live in the eighteenth century any more, when parents could dictate whom their children would marry.”
He looked into her face. “You have the same fears about your daughter, eh?”
She smiled slightly and nodded.
They sat in silence for a few moments, then Mrs. Sherwood said, “How long do you plan to remain in London, Sir Gilbert?”
“I was only planning to stay for a few weeks,” he replied. “Charlotte and Mary really don’t need me, but Charlotte wanted me to come. So here I am, but I’d really much rather be at home.”
“Tell me about your home,” Mrs. Sherwood said.
Sir Gilbert obliged, and talked comfortably for two more dances. Then Charlotte came over and he and Mrs. Sherwood went their separate ways.
Thirteen
The day after the ball, the Earl of Rumford came to call on Diana and asked her to go driving in the park with him that afternoon. Diana, who had been amazed to see him, accepted.
“I thought he was supposed to be engaged to Viscount Longwood’s daughter,” Mrs. Sherwood said when the earl had left.
“It isn’t official until it’s in the papers,” Lady Standish pointed out. “And it hasn’t been in the papers.”
“I think he saw you last n
ight and was smitten,” Sally said to Diana. “He danced with you twice, didn’t he?”
Diana nodded.
Lady Standish smiled triumphantly. “Wouldn’t it be something if Diana took him right out from under Miss Longwood’s nose?”
“She isn’t in London,” Diana said. “Perhaps he is merely amusing himself until she arrives.”
Lady Standish shook her head. “I think Sally is right. He’s smitten.”
“He’s old, though,” Sally said.
“If he’s not too old for Jessica Longwood, then he shouldn’t be too old for Diana,” Lady Standish said. She clapped her hands. “He has a great estate in Oxfordshire as well as other properties all over the country. He’s a huge catch, Diana. Oh, this is almost too good to be true!”
Diana clasped her hands very tightly in her lap. “He seems very nice,” she offered.
“I have never heard anything against him,” Lady Standish said. “Actually, I’ve never heard very much about him at all. He didn’t go about much in society—he was apparently devoted to his sickly wife.”
Mrs. Sherwood spoke for the first time. “Well, I suppose it won’t hurt for you to go driving with him this afternoon, darling.”
“It certainly won’t,” Lady Standish shot back. “Take advantage of your opportunity, my dear. It’s not too often that a tremendously wealthy earl comes onto the marketplace.”
Diana felt a little breathless. She twisted her hands in her lap. This is what I wanted isn’t it? she demanded of her quickly beating heart. It’s stupid to become all flustered because a possible suitor has come along. She drew a deep, steadying breath, looked at Lady Standish and said, “What shall I wear?”
“Let’s go and look at your clothes,” Lady Standish returned, and all the women went upstairs to help pick out Diana’s wardrobe.
Lord Rumford arrived promptly at five where Diana awaited him garbed in a light velvet tan pelisse with a small Spanish hat of the same color. She accompanied him to his slightly old-fashioned phaeton, which was parked in front of the house. He helped her up into the seat and then went around to the driver’s side. They started off toward the park.
