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“Miss Proctor,” Trenton growled. He hadn’t realised until that moment just how much he had missed her. Unfortunately he was prevented from saying anything else by the arrival of Barbarella, who chose that moment to sashay over to him.
“Hello, darling Trenton,” Barbarella murmured into his ear once she reached his side.
“Miss Somersby,” Trenton snapped. He placed a hand over hers when she slid it over his cravat and practically threw it away from him as he took a large step away from her. He caught the quick flash of anger in her eyes, but it had little effect on her rather insipid smile which remained pasted on her heavily powdered face. She flicked a disinterested glance at Ursula. “I am sorry I am late,” she continued as though he had been expecting her.
“I didn’t realise you were going to be here tonight,” Trenton growled with acute displeasure. It was on the tip of his tongue to say, ‘or I wouldn’t have come’, but he didn’t say as much aloud. Instead, he plucked Barbarella’s questing hands off his jacket and put some more decorous distance between them. “Am I to take it that you are in your cups again?”
“I beg your pardon?” Barbarella gasped. She immediately stopped leaning on him and drew herself upright as she glared at him in outrage.
“Well, I just wondered given that you don’t appear able to stand up by yourself,” Trenton declared dryly. His lips twitched as he watched indignation flare to life in the scheming madam’s eyes. “Give her a hand, Brampton,” he added with a nod toward Barbarella. “She may need help getting into the dining room.”
The blatant disinterest in his voice was evident to everyone who overheard, including Ursula. He was aware of a few titters from some the guests who heard him, but paid them no attention. Nothing mattered more than getting Ursula away from the conniving minx who had almost ruined his life.
“Saved by the bell,” he murmured to Ursula when the dinner gong sounded in the hallway. He bowed to her and held his elbow out to her. “Please allow me to escort you to dinner, Miss Proctor.”
Stunned, Ursula stared at him for a moment, unsure what she had just witnessed. She nodded
absently and, relieved to be able to get away from both Brampton and Barbarella, took the elbow he held out to her.
“I didn’t realise you were going to be here this evening, or we could have taken the same carriage,” Eunice Sinnerton gushed across the table at her as soon as the soup course had been served.
“I came with my Aunt,” Ursula replied politely.
“Of course, of course, but there is room for everyone, I am sure. It would have given us the perfect opportunity to get to know one another,” Eunice Sinnerton declared as though this would be Ursula’s undying wish.
Ursula fought the urge to roll her eyes.
“Tell me, Miss Proctor, how do you like London thus far?” Frederick Beldrum asked from the head of the table.
“It is a wonderful place indeed. So wonderful, in fact, that I have decided to stay a few more weeks.”
“It is Yorkshire you hail from, isn’t it?” Barbarella asked from the opposite end of the table. “It must be a shock to move amongst gentry when you are used to farmers and the like.”
“Miss Proctor and I grew up together. We were neighbours in fact,” Trenton reported. “With farmers and the like,” he added with a patronising smile.
“Will you be in London for Christmas?” Brampton asked.
“I don’t know yet,” Ursula replied honestly. “I should like to experience Christmas in London, but I rather suspect that I shall have to return to Yorkshire.”
“If you wish to stay in London, my dear, then you shall,” Adelaide announced. “Regency Street at Christmas is a sight to behold.”
“Then we shall endeavour to ensure that you receive plenty of invitations so you can see as much of London as possible,” Eunice Sinnerton declared pompously. She leaned forward to whisper theatrically so that everyone might hear. “Christmas is, after all, a time of surprises and the New Year, well, of course, that is a time of new beginnings.” She winked meaningfully and laughed gaily as though she was the epitome of wit.
“I hear you are to be married next year,” Brampton declared challengingly, clearly less than pleased at the news.
Ursula stared at him but, before she could reply, Eunice Sinnerton dropped her spoon and splattered soup all over her dress and the table.
“Oh, no. Drat it. Please take it away,” she leaned back and turned her head while the footman removed the offending bowl.
“Would you like another?” the hostess asked politely.
“No, thank you,” Mrs Sinnerton snapped as she dabbed at the spots on her dress. Suddenly, she looked up and pierced Ursula with a stare. “Do we have the pleasure of knowing who the estimable gentleman is?”
“Pardon?”
“I am sure that we shall endeavour to find out while she is in London,” her son declared quietly.
“Is he from Yorkshire?” Barbarella asked quickly and shared a knowing look with Brampton. Ursula frowned as she watched the interplay. She felt as though everyone knew something she didn’t and hated it.
