“I know, but this is definitely not the life I thought I’d be living. I was perfectly content being Lord Spenser and leaving the estate management to my father and brother.”
Richard slapped George on the back. “I know, Hutchinson. You mustn’t give up hope yet. Sometimes things have a way of working out.”
Even though George wanted to believe his friend, he knew his situation was impossible. He couldn’t propose to the woman he loved because of the disparity in their stations, and he couldn’t think of any way around the problem. Miss Weston was a merchant’s daughter and wouldn’t be welcomed by Society—and especially not by his mother—as a suitable wife. He wanted to please his mother, especially after everything she’d endured the last eight months, but how could he live the rest of his life with a broken heart?
“Want a lift back home?”
George shook his head. “No. I think a good brisk walk is just what I need.”
“Of course. I’ll send a note around, letting you know what events we’ll be attending. Perhaps, that will help you decide?” Richard asked.
“Yes, I’d appreciate that. See you soon,” George said, striding off down the street.
When he made it back to his townhouse, he was relieved to discover that his mother had gone upstairs to rest before dinner. He walked down the hall to his study and poured himself a generous portion of brandy before settling in the chair beside the fireplace. Perhaps Richard was right and he should rejoin Society—anything to distract him from the utter despair he was feeling.
He looked at the stack of invitations sitting on his desk. Perhaps he would attend a few events. Once he got Richard’s list of the events they were attending, he could at least ensure he wouldn’t have to endure the evening alone. It was the best he could hope for, although he didn’t relish enduring theton’spity at what had happened to his family.
Chapter 6
True to her word, Helenahad secured an invitation for Lydia to accompany them to the Dresdan ball. Last Season Lydia had received a few invitations to attend a few activities and she hoped she would continue to receive them this Season as well. She had no delusions that she was being invited to select events because of her large dowry. Hostesses with third sons were more than eager for Lydia to attend.
The Season was already a month old, and she was no closer to finding another suitor. Her nerves were on edge. Perhaps this ball would be different, especially as she’d be in the company of Lord and Lady Evans. At the very least, she’d have someone to talk with. As they reached their hosts, Lord and Lady Dresdan, Lydia saw Lady Dresdan’s eyes widen when she spotted her.
The marquis was the first to greet them. “Lord and Lady Dresdan, thank you for the invitation to your lovely home,” Lord Evans said. “I believe you’re acquainted with Lady Evans. May I introduce to you our dear friend, Miss Weston?”
“Good evening, Lord and Lady Dresdan,” Lydia said with a curtsey.
Lord Dresdan nodded. “Good evening, all. I hope you enjoy the ball.”
Lady Dresdan didn’t acknowledge Lydia but didn’t insult her either, as she was attending with the marchioness. Lydia was used to being ignored at Society events, and Lady Dresdan’s failure to acknowledge her was nothing new.
Lady Dresdan turned her attention to Helena. “Lady Evans, I do hope we’ll see you at our next meeting to discuss how to raise money for the orphanage,” she said.
“Of course, Lady Dresdan. I’m happy to support a worthy cause,” Helena said with a nod. “I’m sure Miss Weston would love to attend as well. After all, the children need as much support as we can muster. Please send a note around with the details.”
Lydia wondered whether Helena was already a patron of the orphanage or was merely agreeing to soothe the hostess’s discomfort about her presence.
“Of course. We welcome all patrons,” Lady Dresdan said. “Enjoy the ball.”
When they were announced, she could hear the whispers that she should not be here race through the room, but she held her head high and walked into the ballroom with her friends.
“Pay them no mind,” Helena whispered to her. “You’re my guest.”
She was so grateful when Lord Evans asked her to dance. He was a skilled dancer, and she enjoyed it very much. Perhaps his attentions would help break the ice, encouraging other gentlemen to sign her dance card.
“It’s very kind of you to ask me to dance, Lord Evans,” she said when they came together for the country reel.
“It’s my pleasure, Miss Weston. You dance very well.”
“Thank you.”
When the dance ended, he led her back to Helena. “Thank you for the lovely dance, Lord Evans,” Lydia said with a curtsey.
“Shall I fetch you ladies a lemonade?” he asked.
Both Lydia and Helena nodded, and Lydia watched him thread his way through the crowd. “Your husband is a skilled dancer. I so appreciate him partnering with me,” she said. “Do you think I’ll be asked again?”
Before Helena had a chance to answer, Lydia noticed Baron Oakley threading his way through the crowd and cringed as she realized why he was coming her way. The last thing she wanted was to dance with the old lech. He made her skin crawl, and she could never imagine marrying him. What was her father thinking, threatening to accept the baron’s proposal? She’d rather be disowned than ever marry him.
