Page 45 of An Enchanting Dare

Kilbane waved this away. “I really don’t care, sweetheart, so please do not indulge your bleeding-heart protestations of guilt on my behalf. Whether or not you did it, I am only here to satisfy my curiosity. What you do now is entirely up to you.”

He got to his feet and downed the last of his drink.

“You… You aren’t planning on blackmailing me?” she asked, rather dumbfounded.

He laughed and pulled a face. “Lord, no. How very provincial. No, no, if I indulge in blackmail, I prefer it to be more entertaining than this, and I believe I have wrung every ounce of enjoyment out of this little tête-à-tête.” He took her hand and bowed over it. “My lady sorcerer, it has been a delight, and you have my full permission to torment my brother in the afterlife to your heart’s content. Only, I beg you, do not try your hand at necromancy, for I really would have something to say about that. Au revoir, my darlings.”

He winked at them and sauntered from the room as if it had been a perfectly ordinary conversation.

“Christ,” Sylvester said, watching him go with an expression of revulsion. “Thank God that’s done.”

Aisling nodded, feeling strangely numb. Kilbane had forgiven her, had even suggested that Richard had been unhinged and her curse was not entirely responsible for his death. He was certainly not distraught by his brother’s demise, and it appeared she might have got off lightly if Richard had been as cruel and disturbed as Kilbane suggested. Remembering the cold-eyed devil who’d laughed at her distress that night, she was inclined to believe it. But then again, she wasn’t certain she believed Kilbane was entirely sane, either.

“We’d best get back to the party, love,” Sylvester said gently. “I’m sorry. I imagine it’s the last thing you want, but we must not cause talk by disappearing.”

Aisling nodded. She felt numb and rather exhausted and wanted nothing more than to be alone with her thoughts, but Sylvester was right. For now, she must put a smile on her face and pretend everything was perfectly fine. She’d had enough practise at that. So she took his arm and allowed him to escort her back to the ballroom.

Chapter 16

Dearest Torie,

I am so sorry to hear you are poorly. I shall come and visit you soon and bring some books to make you feel better.

Think of me this night, for I am attending the grand summer ball at Trevick Castle. I think Rosamund will be there too? I hope so for I will need a friendly face. I write this in haste, as I am waiting for the carriage to be brought around. It is the biggest event I have attended since I came out and I have a beautiful gown for the occasion. Mama cried when she saw me all dressed in my finery and so I must do my best to make her proud and keep my wretched mouth shut, though you know as well as I how hard that is. Especially when I must endure the snubs of all those who think me an imposter and not fit for the company of fine people. Actually, it's rather entertaining, seeing how fast people can move away from me, like they could contract a disease from the workhouse simply because I was born there.

Poor Hart suffers more than I do. He despises these events and avoids them whenever he can. Papa sympathises, I know, but even he admits Mama is right and that he must foster connections in this world, shallow and ridiculous though it is.

Oh, I how I wish I might escape this marriage mart and the sensation of being put up for auction, which is grossly unfair of me, for my parents would never force me to marry for anything but love. Perhaps tonight I’ll meet a sensible man with a brain in his head who can converse about anything other than his blasted dogs, horses, or superior talents.

No, I don’t hold out much hope either, but I must dash. Hart is bellowing that the carriage is here. Wish me luck.

― Excerpt of a letter from Kathleen de Beauvoir (adopted daughter of Mrs Minerva and Mr Inigo de Beauvoir) to Lady Victoria Adolphus (daughter of their graces, Prunella and Robert Adolphus, The Duke and Duchess of Bedwin).

30th June 1841, Lady Trevick’s Summer Ball, Trevick Castle, Warwickshire.

Aisling endured for another hour before deciding she must escape for a while before the supper waltz. She did not feel like eating, certain the food would lodge in her throat and choke her, but she’d have to do her best.

Once she had slipped from the crowd, she made her way to the hidden balcony that overlooked the ballroom to catch her breath and see her sister. Mama had agreed to let Cara and her friends sit up here and watch the splendid affair, providing they were quiet and did not misbehave. From the mad giggling coming from behind the hidden door, they weren’t being entirely successful. Yet the sound soothed Aisling’s jangling nerves and it made her happy to hear the girls sounding so carefree and joyful.

She opened the door to the gathering and discovered the reason for their merriment.

“Aisling!”

Lady Catherine Barrington, known to all as Cat, would undoubtedly one day wear the crown of the most beautiful woman of the ton. She was a ravishing creature, even whilst navigating that awkward cusp between childhood and becoming an adult that plagued so many with unwelcome afflictions like greasy hair and spots. She was also strong-willed, full of mischief and devilry, and regularly gave her poor father heart failure. Not that anyone would ever dare put a foot wrong around her, no matter how lovely she became. The Marquess of Montagu was probably the most powerful, and feared, man in England, and only a madman would tangle with him. Whoever married his darling Cat would need to be an exceptional fellow to live up to her father’s expectations. Aisling rather pitied the fellow, whoever he would be.

“Isn’t it beautiful?” Cara said, staring at the whirling crowd dancing below with a wistful sigh. “Oh, Aisling, you are lucky. I wish I were out already. I want to dance!”

Aisling smiled at her sister, wishing that she would never grow up and come out and have to face this lavish world that was so glitteringly tempting on the surface but hid treacherous waters.

“Don’t tell on me, Aisling,” Cat pleaded, taking her hand. “I’m supposed to be in bed by now, and I will go in a moment, but it’s so dull to miss out on all the excitement. Have you seen Mama? She looks ever so lovely.”

Aisling hugged her and smiled. “Yes, I have, and she does. I won’t tell if you go to bed when I leave. How’s that?”

Cat pursed her lips, looking a little mutinous but gave a sigh. “Oh, all right, then. I suppose that’s fair, but don’t go yet.”

Aisling helped herself to a glass of iced lemonade and sighed with relief as the girls huddled before the ornately pierced wooden window screen. They gossiped and exclaimed, pointing out people they knew and admiring the ladies’ gowns.

“Who is that?” Cat demanded.