by Ella Quinn
“There is no need for that.” She waved her hand. “I have a lovely town house on Half Moon Street I shall move into once your betrothal in announced.”
Of course she did. She was his mother. She never did anything he expected her to do. “Very well, then. I shall inform you as soon as I have become affianced. Thank you for tea.”
He rose, bowed, and left the parlor as quickly as he could. Gerald damn sure did not want to listen to any more nonsense about Lucinda’s father. Whatever made Mother think he was going to court Lucinda, he couldn’t guess. Not that he would, but if he decided to turn his attentions to her, it was none of his mother’s business. He was an adult, a peer, and he would make his own decisions as to whom he’d marry.
Lucinda was beautiful, intelligent, graceful—and his best friend’s little sister. Which reminded him. He really should see Rothwell about dancing with Lucinda at Almack’s. The sooner Gerald spoke with her friend, the sooner he could mark it off his list of errands.
Gerald turned left on Carlos Place, and a minute or so later saw the man he was looking for headed in his direction. “Rothwell, well met.”
“Elliott, I wanted to speak with you. I was going to go to Brooks, but if you’ll agree to help me, or, rather, my sister, I can return home.”
He didn’t know what helping his sister had to do with Brooks, but…“I wished to speak with you as well. You first.”
“Well, you see, my wife explained how agonizing it was not knowing if a gentleman would be introduced to her for the waltz the first time she attended Almack’s, and I thought you would be amenable to finding a way to be recommended to Lucinda.”
That was easier than Gerald had thought it would be. “Of course. I’ll speak with Lady Jersey. I believe she’ll agree.” He still didn’t understand why Rothwell was headed to Brooks, unless he was going to ask someone else. For some reason Gerald couldn’t put his finger on, he didn’t like that idea. “Why Brooks?”
“If I didn’t find you, I thought I’d find Kit Featherton there. He is always willing to help a lady.”
Like hell Featherton would. Gerald had to stop himself from clenching his jaw. “Well, you found me, and I shall be happy to dance with Lady Lucinda.”
“Thank you.” Rothwell took Gerald’s hand and shook it as if he was relieved. “I want to make sure she has a good Season. But this is a lot more work than I thought it would be. To be honest, I would’ve been happy to have remained in the country until the baby was older.”
“I take it you’re not letting the nurse tend to her?” One of his own sisters insisted on spending a great deal of time with her children.
“She does, as do the nursemaids, all three of them, but Louisa insists on nursing Alexandria herself, and it’s interrupting our sleep. Not that she is alone in her decision. Her sister and Lady Merton nurse their children as well. It has become fairly common, from what I’ve been led to understand.”
“I believe that is correct.” Gerald wondered if the lady he chose for his wife would wish to eschew a wet nurse. If so, they’d definitely remain in the country. “I look forward to tomorrow evening.”
“I as well. Thank God there’s nothing tonight other than dinner at Worthington House. It’s good to be able to talk to men going through the same thing.”
He’d almost forgotten that not only had Lady Merton and Lady Kenilworth given birth not long ago, but Lady Worthington and Lady Wolverton, the mother of Worthington’s sisters, had as well. What would it be like to be part of a large family? “Have a good evening.”
“Thank you, you as well.” Rothwell headed home, and Gerald turned toward Brooks.
CHAPTER NINE
Gerald entered the morning room off to one side of the main corridor in Brooks. Once again, he found Quorndon sitting in the same leather chair he had been before, holding a glass of wine between two fingers and staring into the fire. An empty decanter of claret sat on the table.
“Good afternoon,” Gerald greeted him.
“Good afternoon, Elliott.” Quorndon took a sip of wine. “Have a seat if you wish.”
He motioned for the servant to bring another bottle before sitting in the chair next to Quorndon. “You look to be in a brown study.”
He glanced at Gerald, and seemed to be having a hard time focusing. “I think I may have to disappoint my mother, and I dislike doing that in the extreme.”
“I’m afraid I can’t help you there. I am a constant disappointment to my mother.”
“Pity. She is usually my closest confidante.” The man switched his gaze back to the fire.
Gerald had never seen Quorndon so blue-deviled. “And you cannot speak to her about this…problem?”
“No. It seems we may want different results.” He drained his glass just as the waiter brought a fresh decanter.
Was he speaking of marriage with Lucinda? He’d been so sure of her before. Or was her matchmaking bearing fruit? And how was Gerald to find out? “I am held to be a fairly good listener.”
“I fear I am becoming quite attached to Miss Marlow.” The man actually sighed.
“Correct me if I’m wrong, but did you not meet her only last evening?” Gerald wished Lady Lucinda could be here to hear his lordship. On second thought, no he didn’t. She’d take great joy in pointing out that she was right.
“Indeed.” The man lifted his head. “Yet it feels as if I have known her forever.”
Despite the drubbing Gerald would receive from her, this was good news for Lucinda. “But your mother still wishes you to marry Lady Lucinda?”
“It is her fondest desire.” He’d never heard Quorndon sound so low, nor seen him becoming quite so foxed.
“Yes. Still, you are the one who will have to live with the lady.” Gerald could absolutely not envision Lucinda and Quorndon being anything close to happy. “You do require children. One must want to take ones wife to bed to do that.”
Quorndon’s slightly blurred gaze focused on Gerald. “By God, you’re right.” The man stood. “Thank you, Elliott.”
With overly precise steps, his lordship made his way out of the room. He signaled to the footman. “Call his lordship a hackney.”
“Yes, my lord.”
Gerald was reaching for a discarded newssheet when Ned Carver, grandson of Viscount Carver, dropped into the seat Quorndon had vacated. “Mind if I join you?”
“Not at all.” Gerald set the paper back down. “When did you get to Town?”
“A few days ago.” His friend took the glass a servant handed him, and Gerald filled it with claret. “Thank you. One of my sisters is coming out, and we had to be here for Lady Bellamny’s party.”
“I didn’t see you when the gentlemen were allowed in.”
Carver coughed, then doubled over, holding a handkerchief to his nose. “For God’s sake. Don’t say things like that when a fellow has just taken a sip of wine.” He wiped his nose, straightened, and took a breath. “I’m not getting any closer to her ladyship than I have to.” Folding the linen, he put it back in his pocket. “Do you have plans for the Season?”
Gerald waited until his friend swallowed before speaking. “I am looking for a wife.” A groan greeted this declaration. “Now what?”
“M’father is after me to marry. It did not help that my sister met a number of young ladies and offered to introduce me to them.” Carver took another drink of wine. “It seems all of my friends are wearing a leg-shackle. Now you’re going to join them. It’s the love matches that are the problem. Makes a man want to stay home with his wife. It’s getting to the point that a gentleman won’t have anyone left with whom to drink.”
Or go whoring or gambling with. “Featherton’s still holding out.”
Carver brightened. “As long as he’s not married, I can convince Father that putting a Parson’s noose around my neck is not that urgent.” He downed the rest of
his glass. “I always say talking with a friend can put things into perspective. Thank you.”
It occurred to Gerald that Lady Lucida was correct. They were all of an age where they should be thinking about setting up their nurseries.
“On the other hand,”—Carver refilled his glass—“if I were to meet a lady with whom I became enamored, I might consider marriage.”
He made less than no sense. “I thought you just said you did not want a love-match.”
“I don’t. But even Merton fell in love. If it happens, there’s no point fighting it. I have been told Lady St. Eth is sponsoring her niece, and Rothwell’s sister is coming out as well.”
A sudden pain stabbed Gerald’s jaw, and he had to force himself to loosen it. Damn the man! How the hell am I going to protect Lucinda if everyone and their brother goes after her?
There was only one thing to do. “A shame that Rothwell’s mother already has a match planned for Lady Louisa.”
“Her mother?” Carter took a long draw from his glass. “I suppose she’ll be looking higher than a mere mister.”
It was all Gerald could do to hide his grin. “So I have been told.”
* * * *
“Almack’s,” Lucinda said yet again. She could not believe she was finally attending one of the famous assemblies. Closing her eyes, she said a short prayer that Lord Elliott would be allowed to waltz with her.
“You won’t be going anywhere if you don’t sit still so I can finish your hair.” Greene’s nonsensical tone broke through Lucinda’s thoughts. She held her head still as her maid threaded a pink ribbon with seed pearls through her hair. She wished she had curls, but her hair just waved.
Her maid stepped back. “There.”
She stared at her reflection. Lucida had never had her hair so elaborately dressed. A braid looping from one side of her head around to the top was held in place by a pearl-tipped hair pin and the ribbon. Small curls framed her face. “My hair did that?”
“Yes, my lady. All we needed was the right cut.”
What would Lord Elliott think? “And your skill. Thank you.”
Greene added a pearl necklace and earrings before putting a spangled shawl around Lucinda’s shoulders and giving her a silk reticule that matched her gown. “All ready.”
“Thank you again. I have never felt so beautiful.” Would Lord Elliott think she was the most beautiful woman he had ever seen?
Was she asking too much?
Lucinda, her sister-in-law, and brother arrived at Almack’s at nine-thirty. She was amazed at how plain the outside of the building looked. Built of plain white stone, it, and had large windows with little in the way of ornamentation. “Is it grander inside?”
“No,” Louisa answered as they waited for the carriage to reach the front door. “It is large, but as plain as the outside. Supper consists of stale bread and butter, weak tea, lemonade, and ratafia. It is not the elegance of the place that makes it important; it is the elegance of those allowed to enter.”
There had been so much to do to prepare for her first real public event that Lucinda forgot to be nervous. Until, that was, she, accompanied by her sister-in-law and brother, was just about to enter the hallowed assembly room of Almack’s.
Suddenly, her stomach lurched into her throat. She clutched Louisa’s hand. “I think I’m going to be ill.”
“You and every other young lady here. Charlotte and I felt the same way. Only Dotty did not suffer from nervousness.”
That was a relief. Lucinda concentrated on looking around until her stomach calmed.
They passed the massive supper room on the ground floor and made their way to the ballroom. It was huge, with chairs and small sofas lining the walls—many of them already occupied. An orchestra played from a small balcony that jutted out over the dance floor halfway down the room. Blue curtains adorned the windows.
Rothwell led them to three chairs not far from the middle of the room. “This gives me a good view.”
“When will the waltz be played?” Lucinda asked.
“Not until after a country dance and the quadrille.” Louisa sank into a chair.
A tall gentleman with brown hair strode up to them and bowed. “Rothwell, your grace.”
“Featherton.” Rothwell grinned. “Good evening.” Her brother turned to her. “Lucinda, allow me to introduce a friend of mine, Mr. Featherton. Featherton, my sister, Lady Lucinda Hughlot. Lucinda
“A pleasure, my lady. May I be the first to ask you to dance?”
That was very kind of him. Other than Lord Elliott and Lord Quorndon, she had not met any gentlemen. “Thank you, sir. I would be delighted.”
“Your servant.” Mr. Featherton bowed again. “I shall return to claim my set.”
“I’ll look forward to it.” Where was Lord Elliott?
She glanced toward the entrance and saw Lord Quorndon and his mother enter, followed by Miss Marlow, her aunt, and a gentleman who, by the silver in his dark hair, was around forty. He must have been Lord St. Claire. Had Miss Marlow and Quorndon come together, or was it serendipity that they had arrived at the same time?
There was a stir as a group of two gentlemen and several ladies, one an extremely beautiful woman with auburn hair, entered. As Lucinda turned to ask who they were, she spotted Lord Elliott headed toward them from across the room. He must have already been present.
“Rothwell, duchess, Lady Lucinda.” Lord Elliott bowed to Louisa before taking Lucinda’s fingers in his large hand. His dimple peeped out, and even through their gloves she began to tingle.
It was a good thing her mother had remained at home—Lucinda could not seem to hide her reaction to him. “My lord. How nice it is to see you.”
“I’ll wager you’ll think it’s even nicer in an hour or so,” he murmured as he straightened. “In the meantime, do you have a partner for the quadrille?”
“No. So far, only Mr. Featherton has requested a set.” That should have made her sad, but the only gentleman she really wished to dance with was Lord Elliott.
“I would be happy to stand up with you.” Did he realize he was asking for two sets? She glanced at her brother, but he was busy returning the salute from one of the men who had just arrived. “Thank you.”
“Never thank a gentleman for the honor of dancing with you.” He grinned at her before strolling away.
For the next hour, one of the Patronesses or another brought gentlemen to be introduced—and that was in addition to the men who already knew her brother or sister-in-law. It was not long before the only set left was the waltz.
“I didn’t realize there were so many men I didn’t know,” her brother grumbled.
“You were gone for three years.” Louisa patted his arm reassuringly. “I promise you will make it through this evening.”
Rothwell scanned the ballroom. “We leave after supper.” He sounded so distraught that Lucinda’s lips began to twitch. She covered her mouth when he glanced toward her. “I want no arguments.”
“None at all. I made sure I did not accept any requests to dance after supper.” By then she would have had two dances with Lord Elliott, and thus far, none of the other men had stirred her at all.
The music began as Mr. Featherton came to collect her. He was an excellent dancer, and he set about attempting to calm her nerves. Not that she had any after her initial reaction. Louisa had done an excellent job of preparing Lucinda. Still, she made all the appropriate responses. She did not want him to think he was wasting his time.
Finally, Lord Elliott approached them with Lady Jersey on his arm. She greeted Rothwell and Louisa before saying, “Lady Lucinda, may I recommend Lord Elliott to you as a suitable partner for the waltz?”
Her heart took flight. She had been expecting it. Hoping, praying would be more accurate. Still, he had done what he’d promised to do.
Lucind
a almost forgot to curtsey. “Thank you, my lady.”
A few minutes later, she was in his arms, twirling around the floor. His hand engulfed her smaller one, and his palm seemed to burn through her silk evening gown. She could not help but notice how firm his waist was. Yet it was not just that. She felt as if she were floating. Surely no one danced as well as he did.
Lucinda hoped he had not wished to stand up with a different lady. “Was it very hard to get Lady Jersey to agree to recommend you?”
“Not at all.” He smiled. “I think she was relieved that I wasn’t asking to dance with Lady Serena.”
Not understanding, Lucinda asked, “The lady with the auburn hair?”
“Indeed.” They’d changed positions and were skipping around.
“I saw her come in. She is very lovely.” She waited to see if he would agree. Had he wanted to dance with the other lady?
“I suppose she is.” He did not sound as if he had wanted to waltz with her. “How are you enjoying Almack’s?”
“Very much, indeed.” She lost her breath when he twirled her around.
Not that Lucinda had much experience, but Lord Elliott was definitely the best dance partner she had ever had. Her opinion was confirmed when they stood up for the quadrille. She had never seen a man so light on his feet, not even her brother.
“You dance very well,” he said as he made his final bow. “These steps are not easy to master.”
“Louisa taught me over Christmas.” Lucinda placed her hand on his arm. “She and Rothwell had a small ball, and before that we had a dancing party so that those of us in the country could practice.”
“That sounds like something the duchess would do.”
“Now that I know her better, it does.” Her sister-in-law was not only kind, but intelligent enough to know that having experience dancing could only help those who had previously lacked it.
