Chapter Six
That evening, Gavin escorted Lady Littleton into Lady Matthews’s house and immediately regretted coming. They had not gone two steps beyond the receiving line when the first matron with a daughter to marry off approached them, daughter in tow. The lady could not have been older than forty as her dark blond hair showed not a glint of silver. The girl next to her was pretty enough, but somehow seemed not quite up to snuff. Nothing like Georgie, who could not be more than a year the young lady’s senior.
“Lady Littleton, I vow I have not seen you in years,” the woman simpered.
Her ladyship raised one eyebrow. “Are you certain, Mrs. Barton? I am positive that I saw you last Season with”—she tapped her cheek with her fan—“oh, I remember now. Your third daughter.” Lady Littleton smiled politely. “You were in anticipation of an offer for her hand. Did you receive it?”
Interestingly, the other lady seemed to forget the girl at her side as she beamed at her ladyship. “How good of you to remember, my lady. We did indeed receive a very eligible offer for her, and she is now happily married. I trust your son is doing well?”
“Indeed he is.” Lady Littleton’s smile widened. “I shall be made a grandmother again this winter.” She inclined her head. “I am dreadfully sorry, but you must excuse us. Lady Bellamny wishes to speak to me.”
“Oh, of course, my lady.” The other woman gave a slight curtsey. “Come along, Tabitha. We must find our seats.”
Gavin stared after the woman and her daughter. “I believe I have been taken down a peg. I would have sworn she was attempting to have me introduced to her.”
“I have no doubt she was.” Lady Littleton’s eyes twinkled with mirth. “But mentioning her success with her other daughter distracted her sufficiently for her to forget her purpose in approaching us.”
“Very well done.” Gavin glanced around. “Did you really see Lady Bellamny? I never look forward to meeting her.”
“Naturally, you would not. No unmarried gentleman does.” Lady Littleton began to steer him farther into the room. “But to answer your question, I did. She is speaking with two of my friends.” She gave him a chiding look. “If you wish, I can leave you to your own devices—”
“No.” He placed his hand over hers to keep it there. “I do not have your talent to distract.”
“Very well. Stay by my side. I see Lady Matthews has left her post in the receiving line. She would be pleased to make you known to several young ladies.”
Gavin couldn’t suppress a shudder. “I’ll stick to you like a leech.”
Her ladyship frowned at him. “What a singularly disgusting analogy.”
“It was, rather.” He found himself grinning. “You must bring out my younger self.”
“In that event, do try to control yourself. Behaving like a schoolboy will not help you at all.”
“I wish I’d appreciated how simple my life was then.” Before his mother had died. Before his father had lost his mind. “After you greet the other ladies might we discuss what I am going to do about Miss Featherton?”
“Of course.” She patted his hand that was still covering hers. “I have a few ideas of what you could do to return to her good graces.”
They reached the older ladies in question, and Lady Bellamny was the first to speak. “Cristabel, I’m glad to see you in Town.”
“It is a short stay, but it has given me time to visit a few shops. As well stocked as Littleton is, it cannot compare with London.”
“Lord Turley.” Gavin felt his spine stiffening as if he was about to be scolded. “I would have thought you would be seeking to be presented to the young ladies instead of hiding behind Lady Littleton’s skirts.”
At least his instincts were correct. He bowed stiffly. “Good evening, my lady. I have already found the lady I wish to marry.”
Lady Bellamny’s black eyes narrowed at him. “Then why are you not with her?”
“She is out of Town at the moment,” Lady Littleton said. “Really, Almeria, you are being too hard on the boy.”
The tallest of the older ladies snorted.
“Duchess”—Lady Littleton brought Gavin forward a step—“allow me to present Lord Turley. Turley, this is the Duchess of Bridgewater.”
Bowing, he took the hand she’d held out. “A pleasure, your grace.”
“We’ll see about that,” the duchess retorted, giving him a hard look.
As he rose, the other lady, who reminded him of Georgie, raised both brows as if challenging him somehow.
