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She would marry Russell if it turned out he was her best option, but it was still early in the Season. She’d keep him at arms’ length for a while and see how things progressed. It would be some time before he’d come to scratch, anyway. Eager as he was himself, he wouldn’t be so foolish as to think her ready to dance down the aisle this quickly.
Tonight was a night for casting nets and seeing what might be caught.
Fourteen
The music had already begun by the time Harriett entered the ballroom.
“I’m sorry it took so long,” said Cat, straining to no doubt try and catch sight of Winchilsea and Hammond. “I simply could not come down with that hideous crease in the back. I’ve half a mind to ask Papa to dismiss the girl. We’ve been here all day, after all. She ought to have had that out long before we came up. You are a dear for waiting with me.”
Harriett just nodded and smiled, preoccupied with scanning the crowd for signs of Russell and Manchester. Truth be known, she hadn’t been in a terrible rush to come down. She’d wanted to give Nanette plenty of time to corner her prey.
“There he is!” whispered Cat, tugging at her arm.
Harriett let her lead her to where Hammond and his uncle stood with their host, who was telling them about the recent renovations to his estate, Hinchingbrook House, in Huntingdon.
“Lady Catherine,” said Hammond, bowing at once. “I was beginning to worry. I thought perhaps you might have declined to come to the festivities out of exhaustion after this morning’s chase.”
Her sister laughed. “My lord, I am happy to say I am neither weary nor anywhere near ready to end this day. If anything, I found this morning’s hunt invigorating. I am quite prepared to dance the night through, if permitted.”
Behind her, Harriett saw Winchilsea’s eyes fill with approval—and determination. “You must of course oblige the young lady, Hammond,” he said firmly to his nephew.
Hammond, having received approval to pursue what was clearly his heart’s most ardent wish, bowed before Cat.
Harriett watched the happy couple depart. She began at once to look for Lily. There she is. Before she could leave, however, she was stopped by their host.
“Lady Harriett, do clarify something for me,” said Lord Sandwich.
“Yes, my lord?”
“My wife tells me you have been quite occupied with a charity here in London. Remind me which one it is?”
“The Foundling Hospital, my lord.”
“How admirable. And am I right in understanding that Manchester is also involved?”
“Yes, my lord,” she answered, mystifi
ed by the sudden intensity of the question. “He is one of its governors. He inherited the responsibility along with his title.”
“Ah.” His brows rose. “Well, I’m...glad to know he is continuing the good work begun there.”
Harriett maintained strict control over herself and did not snort or allow herself so much as a twitch of the lips. “As are we all, my lord.”
“I have promised my lady wife that a donation shall be made to your Hospital at once. Would two thousand pounds suffice, do you think?”
It was completely unexpected. Harriett curtseyed deeply, ignoring the murmurs that had erupted all around them from those who’d overheard. “Most assuredly, my lord, and your generosity is indeed most appreciated. Lord Manchester has recently approved several much needed renovations. He has even decided to build a separate facility to house the ill so they will not infect the healthy. Your donation will go a long way toward completing the project.”
“Has he indeed?” said Sandwich, his brow wrinkling with surprise. He turned to the other men with him and laughed. “I would never have guessed it of the fellow! The sinner turning saintly—oh! Forgive me, Lady Harriett,” he said at once, flushing a little. “Manchester and I go back a long way.”
She smiled sweetly. “You need not apologize, my lord. I am well acquainted with Lord Manchester.”
“That’s right, you were engaged to his brother,” said Sandwich, peering at her. “Though I only met him twice, William was a good man from all I could tell.”
“He was indeed. As is the current Lord Manchester,” she added for good measure.
“Yes, yes, of course,” said Sandwich, clearing his throat with an emphatic nod. “Every man has his hidden facets, I suppose—even you, Manchester.”
With dread, Harriett turned to see Manchester coming upon them.
