191The evening party was not going to be a society squeeze, but a rather more select affair, limited to no more than fifty persons, with supper, and, since Elizabeth enjoyed dancing so much, a few impromptu sets after supper. Those invited were closer acquaintances and friends. Lady Rendlesham was most certainly not invited, nor had Lady Chalford sent a card to Lord Easby. Lord Nuneaton had been favoured, however, and, at Elizabeth’s request, Lord Carbrooke and Mr Southram, because, she said, they made her laugh. Most of the guest list had been of her aunt’s devising, and she did not know of the addition of Sir Lucius. Without any anticipation of awkwardness for the evening, Elizabeth dressed in a happy mood.
The lemon silk was new for the Season, her mother’s diamond set sparkled about neck and wrist, and in her dark hair, and she knew herself to be looking her best. Ditcham was patting the single curled lock of hair before each ear when Elizabeth, upon a whim, reached for the little blue box upon the dressing chest.
‘What on earth do you be wanting to wear that for, miss? It will scarcely show on this gown and with you glittering with diamonds …’
‘An indulgence, Ditcham. I simply feel like wearing it tonight, and placed so’ – she pinned it centrally at the neckline of the bodice – ‘if any remark upon it, it may be taken as part of the dress, since there are seed pearls among the silver embroidery on the sleeves.’
Ditcham sniffed, but said no more. At least her mistress looked better tonight than she had for several days.
192Elizabeth stood to receive the guests, secure in the knowledge that she could be at ease. There were none of her unwanted admirers, nor the ladies of Lady Rendlesham’s circle who clearly despised her. She was more than a little taken aback when Sir Lucius Radstock was announced, and felt slightly breathless as she watched him climb the stairs towards them. He bowed over Lady Chalford’s hand, and then Elizabeth’s, and as he straightened, his eye caught sight of the pearl brooch. He looked up, clearly surprised, and their eyes met, his questioning, hers full of confusion. Belatedly, he let go of her gloved fingers. Lady Chalford watched indulgently. Rumour must surely be true.
‘Sir Lucius,’ Elizabeth murmured, blushing. ‘I have to thank you for your generous gift.’
He wanted to tell her that she need not thank him, that the sight of her wearing it was greater thanks than he would have dared to imagine, but he was not a man used to pretty words.
‘It is but a trifle, ma’am. I am only delighted if it was received in the spirit with which it was sent.’
The blush deepened, and Elizabeth murmured something indistinct before she had to move on to another arrival. That might keep her from him for a while, but she knew that in a gathering of this size it would be impossible to avoid him all evening.
In fact, Sir Lucius was being very circumspect. He wanted nothing more than to have the chance of conversation alone with her, but gauged that to appear over-keen would ruin all. He therefore watched her, covertly, as she stopped here and there, received compliments and congratulations,193laughed softly at some witticism of young Southram’s. He felt as if only she remained in focus, and everyone else was vaguely blurred. With planning worthy of Lord Easby, he positioned himself so that he might approach her in time to lead her in to supper, although their conversation would have to be superficial under the eyes of many. However, he was beaten to this pleasure by the unexpected presence of Lord Nuneaton, who, having just failed to secure Miss Amelia Ashling, descended upon her cousin. That she would far rather have declined his arm was clear, and for a brief moment her eyes met Sir Lucius’s, and he saw the embarrassment and, yes, disappointment within them. Was it disappointment because she did not like Nuneaton, or that it had not been himself leading her in to supper? He told himself not to read so much into it, and went to ask a slightly shy-looking young lady to take his arm.
It could not be said that Elizabeth enjoyed supper as much as she had hoped, despite the well-chosen repast. Lord Nuneaton chose to treat her to his uninhibited manner, secure in the knowledge that in such a public place she might not do anything about it. It was an appropriate revenge, so he thought. She found him offensive more from the intimate tone he adopted than his actual words, but itched to slap the self-satisfied pink cheeks. By the end of supper she could feel her own anger marring her visage. It was not, perhaps, the most propitious time for Sir Lucius to approach her, and her eyes flashed as brilliantly as the diamonds at her bosom.
‘I must apologise, Miss Ashling.’
‘Apologise, Sir Lucius? For what?’
194‘For failing you in your hour of need. Had I not been distracted by Lady Micheldever, I would have pre-empted Nuneaton’s request to lead you in to supper.’
She looked at him, the angry fire glowing. He understood so much, and yet he understood so little if he thought her his for the mere asking.
‘You feel you had the right, sir?’
‘No. Not the right, but every chivalrous instinct.’ He looked very serious, and his voice was calm. If she expected him to fan the flames of her wrath for her, she was mistaken.
‘Oh.’
‘Miss Ashling, might I beg a few minutes’ conversation with you, somewhere a little more private?’
‘No. I mean, it would be remarked upon, Sir Lucius.’ She looked flustered, nervous.
‘I think we are at cross-purposes, Miss Ashling. I wish to speak to you in order to correct a misapprehension that owes everything to malicious rumour. If you would but indicate a chamber where we might be private, you might slip away first and I would follow some minutes later, if you are concerned about gossip.’
She frowned. He sounded very reasonable, and very dispassionate.
‘I am not sure …’ she faltered.
‘Be sure.’
She looked at him, and trusted. ‘There is a small withdrawing room on this floor, at the back of the house, adjacent to the room where supper was laid out. I will meet you there.’
He bowed and walked away to exchange pleasantries with195an acquaintance, and Elizabeth, feeling very clandestine, slipped out, unaware that Lady Chalford had watched the interchange and was smiling benignly at her.
The withdrawing room was a peaceful haven, but Elizabeth felt more as though she was entering a lion’s den. She sat, then stood, then walked up and down in agitation, and when the door opened, and Sir Lucius entered, she was gripping the back of a chair as if it were her only support. He noted it.
‘Thank you for seeing me, Miss Ashling. I shall not insult you by beating about the bush. I fear that you have been made aware of a rumour that’ – he paused for a moment – ‘that I had the temerity to be about to propose marriage to you in arrogant confidence that you would accept me on the spot. This is so?’
She nodded.
