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She was silent. He wondered what she was thinking at that moment, but he didn’t feel that he knew her well enough to ask. He didn’t want to be impertinent. He wanted to know her better. He wanted to prove to her that he was interested, and that his intentions towards her were honourable.
“I was wondering if I might call on you, when you return to London,” he said, daring to take the leap. It was a ball, and they were looking out over the gardens. It was a romantic moment, the perfect time to tell her that he was interested in pursuing her.
“No.”
Silas looked at Miss Wilds in shock. No woman had ever turned down his advances before. Not unless she was already taken. “I don’t understand. I thought that we were getting on very well.”
“You’ve been very kind,” she said, finally looking at him. She looked sad. “But I don’t entertain gentleman callers. I have no interest in marrying, not ever.” She said it so sternly, brooking no argument.
He blinked in surprise. Silas had no idea what to say to that. Keeping her eyes on the ground between them, she moved away from him, curtsying and then rushing away, heading back towards the ballroom. He watched as she melted into the crowd. Apparently, they were even more well-suited than he’d thought. Their views on marriage were exactly the same.
I never imagined that she existed. And yet… she does.
Silas Sweet had met his match. He was going to have to fight against all of her reasonable sensibilities. He laughed, softly to himself. He desired her, more than he had before.
***
There was no true escape for Lucy. It would be considered rude to vanish from the ball, so she went to the punch bowl, where a footman handed her a glass. She stood there for a moment, then realized that if she kept moving, then no one would ensnare her in discussion.
She then began to walk around the edge of the room, looking for her aunt. She took a sip of the sweet drink, despising the bite of the alcohol.
Lucy was angry with herself for agreeing to come.What did I think was going to happen? If Aunt Joan and I had just stayed home, I would never have been in this situation.
Part of her had wanted desperately to tell him yes. But she knew that it could never be. She didn’t want to become the Viscountess of Thornbridge—how would she ever begin to perform the necessary functions? There would be endless balls and parties, which Lucy detested.
She would be scorned for her opinions, hated because she wasn’t a member of the ton from birth. She was simply Miss Lucy Wilds, orphaned daughter of a tradesman. She could never begin to attempt at being a fancy lady.
She finally spotted Aunt Joan deep in conversation with a group of ladies. All were ensconced in what appeared to be a lively discussion, all of them laughing. Lucy swallowed, relaxing. Her aunt would do all the talking, if Lucy could only stand beside her for the rest of the evening…
“Lucy!” Dinah called out to her. She turned, to find her waving her over. “I was wondering where you were.”
“How is your evening going?” Lucy asked, relieved to have found a friendly face.
“Very well.” Dinah slipped her arm around Lucy’s, and the two of them began to walk around the edge of the room. “I saw that you danced with my brother.”
“I did.” As they passed a table, Lucy set down her still-full glass of punch. The fact was, it was too sweet, cloying. She didn’t need any more intoxicants. Mr Silas Sweet was too much on his own.
“He’s a bit of a rascal at times,” Dinah said. “But I can vouch for his character.”
“Can you?”
“Absolutely.”
Lucy didn’t know what to think. She certainly liked him. But she still didn’t want to marry. It was out of the question. She wouldn’t lead him on. Not like that. It had happened to her.
It wasn’t long before Dinah was collected for the next dance by one of the gentlemen, and Lucy found herself standing alone.
She opened her lace fan, which had been dangling from her wrist. She fanned her face, looking around and hoping that no one would notice her.
“Miss Wilds.” It was Mr Stalton, one of Mr Sweet’s friends. He was the son of a rich businessman, she thought she recalled having been told. He grinned at her. He wasn’t very attractive, but he was the sort of man who believed that he was. “Would you do me the honour of this next dance?” He offered her his arm.
She didn’t want to—she didn’t like the way that Mr Stalton smirked at her. But she knew also that it would be a social faux-pas to refuse.
“Of course,” she said, placing her hand on his elbow, and allowing him to ferry her out to the dance floor.
Though the dance was a lively country one, Mr Stalton was able to keep up a conversation throughout. It made Lucy’s head spin.
“I must say, Miss Wilds,” he said, eyeing her appraisingly. “You look stunning this evening.”
“Thank you, sir.” She wished that he would talk of anything else. She had already had Mr Sweet make advances upon her that evening. She didn’t want to continually have to be running away from gentlemen.
“I was wondering if you might want to take a turn about the gardens with me?”
Oh, dear. Not another one.She didn’t know what she had done to catch the eye of not one, but two gentlemen. Mr Stalton’s invitation was both unwelcome and completely scandalous. There was no way that she could accept.
“No, thank you,” she replied. “I do have a reputation to uphold, even if it isn’t one that matters much.”
Mr Stalton’s face looked as though he’d smelled something foul. He smiled, but it didn’t reach his eyes. He was angry that she’d turned him down. She swallowed nervously, then curtsied, and then looked around desperately for her aunt.
