Page 1 of Regency Whispers: Scandalous Matches

A Match to Fool Society

Laura Martin

To the many inspirational female mentors I’ve been lucky enough to have in life. Your time and encouragement have always made a difference.

Chapter One

‘I do declare, it has been a thoroughly successful year,’ Lady Mountjoy said to the group of women gathered round her. ‘And we have still got the main round of balls and events ahead of us.’

‘How many matches have you secured?’

‘Four. Four out of five of the debutantes I brought from Somerset are now married.’

Jane took a step back, wondering if there was any way she could fade into the background. Never was there a time she liked to be the centre of attention in a ballroom, but right at this moment she would have been happy to blend into the wallpaper. If any of the women in Lady Mountjoy’s circle turned and saw her, there would be exclamations of pity and reassurances that she too would find her match. Even though that would be painful, it wouldn’t be as bad as Lady Mountjoy’s eyes turning to her in that affectionate but calculating way.

‘What about number five?’ one of the companions asked.

Number Five took a step to the left, wondering if she might make it to the door without attracting any attention.

‘Miss Ashworth is a fine young lady and I have no doubt that we will see her happily married before the Season is out.’

Shuffling her feet, Jane inched towards the door and freedom from the inquisitive stares. None of this had seemed so bad when her friends had been there to experience everything with her, but now she was alone and exposed to the glare of curiosity without anyone to shield her.

Jane continued to shuffle, all the time wondering if she would be better to stride away, then all the group of matriarchs would see would be her squared shoulders and head held high.

Nearly at the door, she risked a look back, catching a snippet of the conversation.

‘The quiet, mousy ones...’

For a moment she stiffened, allowing the frustration to course through her, revelling in the fire it stoked deep inside her, before she took a deep breath and banished the defiance that burned bright. Turning, she made the last two steps to the door quickly, already rejoicing in her smooth escape as she rushed through, looking over her shoulder to see if anyone had noted her exit from the ballroom.

Her body collided with something solid and, before Jane could even look round, she flew back through the ballroom doors, her arms spread wide, trying to grasp on to anything she could. There was a moment when she thought she might regain her equilibrium and keep her feet, but it was short lived, and instead she slipped anew on the shiny floor and landed with a hard bump on her bottom.

Every pair of eyes in the ballroom turned to her. Hands raised to mouths and smiles were suppressed. No doubt there were even a few genuine gasps of sympathy.

Quickly Jane leaned to tug down her dress. It had puffed up as she had tumbled backwards and the hem now sat just below her knees, giving everyone a glimpse of her practical white stockings.

Hating the way the blood rushed to her cheeks and the tears pooled in her eyes, threatening to spill out onto her lashes, Jane pressed her lips together in an attempt to maintain her composure.

‘My apologies,’ a deep voice said, stepping into her line of vision and offering her his hand.

Jane regarded the man for a moment, realising this was the solid form she’d so disastrously bounced off. He was smiling, although she didn’t get the impression he was laughing at her, as many of the other guests were.

There wasn’t anything to do but take his hand and allow him to pull her to her feet. She stood quickly, a little too quickly, and her body bumped against his before she could take a step back and put some distance between them.

‘Are you hurt?’ His concern seemed genuine, although the hint of a smile was still tugging at the corner of his lips.

‘No,’ Jane said abruptly. She turned to move away, surprised when the man caught her hand, stopping her from fleeing.

‘You’re in a hurry, Miss...?’

‘Ashworth. Yes, I am.’

‘Miss Ashworth,’ he said, looking her over appraisingly. ‘So, where is the guest of honour of tonight’s ball running off to so fast?’

Closing her eyes for a moment, Jane tried to ignore the sideways looks they were getting from a group of young ladies Jane vaguely knew. Silently she dug her fingernails into her palms and summoned a tight smile. It was no use trying to flee now anyway. All eyes were on her. She had missed her opportunity to slip away unnoticed.

‘Ah, Miss Ashworth, I wondered where you had got to. Did you injure yourself in your fall?’ Lady Mountjoy hurried over and Jane turned to the older woman. Despite her penchant for match-making the countess was kind, warm and motherly and Jane knew her concern was real. ‘Whatever happened?’