After having joined his friends for luncheon, he finally arrived home in the late afternoon. Once again a letter from Vivian lay on the hall table. He picked it up, popping off the seal as he strode to his study. Half-way down the corridor he came to an abrupt halt.She wants to do what?
My dear Lord Stanstead,
I had such an enjoyable time last evening that I wish to continue our acquaintance. I shall be waiting for you at Number Forty Hill Street at eleven o’clock to-morrow night.
Cleopatra
What the devil was she about and how the hell had she found that house? He raked his fingers through his hair. The only thing she could be planning was an affair, although she hadn’t struck him as the type of woman who would have relations outside of marriage. Or had he seen only what he wanted to, yet again?
No, he was right about her. This latest start must have something to do with her husband.
He glanced once more at the missive. Eleven was a deuced odd time. Why not earlier or later? Well, he’d find out soon enough, today if he could manage it. Who was this woman who intrigued him so much?
CHAPTER FIFTEEN
“Well,” Mama said, “he must not have seen me wave.”
Oh, Lord Stanstead had seen them and run, but what had he been doing at Lady Telford’s house? Cressida pasted a polite smile on her lips. “Probably not. In fact, we haven’t seen him at any of the entertainments for a week or more.”
“Your father said the Lords have been extremely busy.”
The door opened and the butler bowed. Mama handed him her card. “Come this way, my lady.”
When they entered the drawing room, the other ladies were exclaiming over a bunch of beautiful yellow and purple flowers Lady Beresford held.
“They are perfectly lovely! Who sent them?” one of the women asked.
Lady Beresford shook her head, smiling. “Barnes, please have these placed in water. I shall arrange them later.”
“Oh, pooh!” Another lady pouted. “I cannot believe you are so cruel as to keep us guessing.”
“Everyone must have their secrets.” Lady Telford did nothing more than add an inflection of scolding in her tone for the subject to change to a bonnet seen on Bruton Street, but Cressida knew.
Lord Stanstead must have brought them over himself. Yet for the life of her, she didn’t know what he saw in Lady Beresford. Her face was pretty in an older sort of way, but she was much too thin to be fashionable.
Fortunately, Mama must have made the same connection as Cressida had. As soon as they could politely excuse themselves, they did.
Once they were back in the carriage, Mama gave her sympathetic look. “I’m sorry, my dear. It appears Lord Stanstead’s interests lie elsewhere.”
“Yes, Mama.” Clearly, there was no point in discussing the matter. Her mother was ready to give up, but Cressida knew that Lord Stanstead was meant to be with her. She would simply have to find a way to show him that. “Where has Papa been in the evenings?”
“There have been political entertainments he was required to attend. However, he will be accompanying us to Lady Jersey’s ball. Everyone will be there.”
Including Lord Stanstead, Cressida hoped. If she could be found alone with him there, he’d have to marry her.
Silvia stood still as her maid laced her gown. Despite racking her brain all day, she had found no way to thwart Nick’s plan to dance with her. She might as well give in gracefully. She’d had to stand up with other men she hadn’t cared for; all the young ladies did. At least he danced well, and she would not end the set with sore toes.
“There you go, miss. Do you want the pearls?”
“Yes. They will do nicely.” Because she was the eldest, most of her mother’s jewelry had come to her. Much of it was not suitable for an unmarried young lady.
Though it did not matter, she had no desire to show off any wealth. She and Cousin Clara had agreed that there was no need to mention the amount of Silvia’s portion. It would only attract fortune hunters, and she was determined to ensure whoever she married wanted her, not her money. Mama and Papa had wed for love, as had her sisters. She would as well.
When Silvia reached the drawing room, Lady Telford and Vivian were enjoying glasses of wine. Silvia poured one for herself. Normally she didn’t drink much, but to-night she required a bit of help to face what was coming.
She took a seat on the sofa next to her ladyship, and only then noticed that Vivian had not dressed for the evening. “Are you not feeling well?”
“I have a little bit of a headache and thought to remain in. I’m sure it is nothing to be alarmed about.”
