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“Please allow me to arrange for your carriage,” Trenton declared with a bow.
He studied Ursula as he did so, but to his confusion she refused to meet his eyes. What had he said that had over-set her so? Was it his mention of her father? Did she object to his demand that she find a husband? That thought filled him with renewed hope, and a rather ruthless determination. He squared his shoulders and nodded to both ladies.
“Let me escort you,” he said and waved toward the door.
“If you would, that would be a great help,” Adelaide replied.
Ursula took her aunt’s arm and escorted her out of the room and down the stairs toward the main hallway. By the time they had reached the front door and collected their shawls, the carriage was waiting. Ursula stood to one side while Trenton handed Adelaide inside and was about to step forward to climb aboard when Trenton spoke.
“Are you going to Lady Andover’s ball next Friday?”
She looked blank for a moment while she tried to remember who Lady Andover was.
“Yes, we are, Trenton,” Adelaide called from inside the carriage. “I accepted the invitation just this afternoon.”
“I hope I shall see you there,” he murmured without taking his eyes off Ursula. “Sleep well.”
She accepted the hand he held out to her in a daze and watched him close the door once she had taken a seat. He stood back but remained where he was until the carriage disappeared from sight. As soon as their gazes were broken, she sighed and leaned back against the seat to face her aunt. She felt as though she was living some kind of dream, although couldn’t be quite sure what to make of what had just happened.
As the carriage rumbled away, she couldn’t settle her thoughts to anything other than just how much more wonderful he was in person than she had ever imagined him to be. She wanted to laugh with the sheer joy of this new revelation. Unfortunately, her happiness was dampened with the knowledge that their acquaintance could go nowhere.
“Such a charming man,” Adelaide declared as the carriage turned out of the end of the road. “It’s such a shame he is to be saddled with that awful woman.”
“He is engaged, isn’t he?” she asked. Her heart suddenly felt like a leaden weight in her chest. She winced when Adelaide glared at her across the dim recesses of the carriage.
“From what I hear, yes. Apparently, his intended is an odious woman called Barbarella Somersby. She is such an awful creature; beautiful to look at but rotten to the core. Her father has spoiled her; given her far too much for far too long if you ask me. It is a shame that Trenton didn’t have better taste. I don’t know what he was thinking of.”
Determined not to cry, Ursula sat back to watch the city streets roll by.
CHAPTER TWO
The following morning, Ursula was reading the newspaper while eating breakfast. She was only vaguely aware of the quite murmur of voices in the hallway. It was only when there was a discrete tap on the door that she glanced up and watched Isaac, Adelaide’s butler, enter the breakfast room carrying a posy of flowers.
“They have just arrived, ma’am. For Miss Ursula.”
Ursula froze in
the process of biting into her piece of toast. She took the small white envelope the butler held out to her hesitantly and stared at it curiously for a moment while Isaac slid the arrangement onto the table beside her. The writing didn’t look familiar. Who could it be from?
“You have impressed someone, Ursula, my dear,” Adelaide gushed. She smiled across the table at her niece, waiting to learn the identity of the sender.
“For a beautiful lady,” Ursula read aloud. She looked at the back of the card in confusion, but there was no sender’s name.
“What else does it say?” Adelaide prompted when Ursula didn’t say anything else.
“Nothing. That’s all it says: For a beautiful lady.”
“Oh my,” Adelaide gushed. “A secret admirer. How wonderful.”
Ursula wasn’t altogether sure it was wonderful. The only people she had spoken to last night were a few of her aunt’s old friends, and they wouldn’t be likely to send her the flowers. The only other person she had spoken to had been Trenton, and he couldn’t possibly be the sender either – could he?
“Do you recognise the writing?” Adelaide asked her, craning her neck to see the flowing script herself. It was hopeless though because of the width of the table between them and she flopped down in her seat with an impatient sigh.
“I don’t know anyone well enough to know what their writing looks like,” Ursula said.
“I wonder who they could be from,” Adelaide mused. “They are wonderful, aren’t they? The sender must be smitten.”
Ursula rolled her eyes. Although sense urged her to be cautious, her thoughts kept straying toward Trenton. He had been the only man she had conversed with throughout the past fortnight. But, because he was engaged, the idea of someone like Trenton sending her such a wonderful arrangement didn’t seem feasible.
