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They ended up staying right where they were as a veritable line of people queued up for introductions to Rebecca and Susan both. Rebecca curtsied and extended her hand to a number of people and tried desperately to remember names: Lord Bledsoe, the Earl of Iverson and Lady Iverson, the Duke and Duchess of Wilmington, the Duke and Duchess of Atherton, Lord and Lady Melton . . . They were all friends of Lady Walmsley.
And then there were the young ladies and gentlemen who were allowed to be introduced to Rebecca by people who’d been introduced to her. She wondered if anyone would even notice if people introduced themselves to her without having another person intercede on their behalf. She hoped she’d have a moment to breathe during the evening, where she might have a chance to begin putting names with faces.
“I think we shall be fast friends,” a young lady named Miss Sarah Wentworth, daughter of Sir Joshua and Lady Wentworth, said. Rebecca was certain they would be; Miss Wentworth was so quiet and unassuming, in such contrast to so many others, that Rebecca had found her quietness memorable and calming.
But the onslaught of names and titles and faces continued. Rebecca tried to associate hairstyles or facial features or wigs or other traits, but she suspected she would need Susan and Aylesham’s assistance to sort through it all, even if she got that chance to breathe.
Finally, Aylesham actuallydidraise his quizzing glass. “Please excuse us; I fear the lovely ladies in my care are in need of refreshment,” he said loud enough to be a deterrent to the crush of people still gathering about them.
“Thankyou, Aylesham,” Susan replied in the resounding tone of her duchess voice.
They succeeded in locating a few empty chairs together close enough to the orchestra to enjoy the music but not so close to the orchestra that they couldn’t converse.
“Perhaps you would care for a cup of punch,” Aylesham said. “Duchess?”
“I know I would, and I suspect Rebecca would as well,” Susan said.
“Yes, thank you,” Rebecca said.
Aylesham bowed and left them for the refreshment table.
“I understand the refreshments here are less than desirable, but when in Rome, as they say,” Susan said. “Also, I fear our little exit from those gathered about us only waylaid those still interested in an introduction.” She discreetly nodded in the direction from whence they’d just come.
“It’s all rather overwhelming,” Rebecca said. “I am going to need your help remembering everyone.”
“I understand completely,” Susan said, “having been through something similar not many weeks ago. Ah, hello, Whitley,” she added when a couple of young gentlemen approached. “Rebecca, allow me to introduce Viscount Whitley, a particular friend of Aylesham. Viscount Whitley, my sister, Miss Rebecca Jennings.”
“Enchanted, Miss Jennings,” the viscount said. “And may I present my friends? Duchess, Miss Jennings, my friends Viscount Stanley and Misters Hugh Mandeville, Reginald Selkirk, and Oliver Banfield.” The four young gentlemen in question each bowed and offered their “how do you dos” to Susan and Rebecca, respectively.
They chatted briefly until Aylesham returned with the cups of punch, and then the gentlemen offered their greetings to him. However, Aylesham’s intimidation served its purpose, for all it took was a deep stare from him to have three of the gentlemen quickly make their bows and excuse themselves.
One gentleman remained briefly. “I wonder, Miss Jennings,” he said softly, “if I may have the pleasure of dancing with you this evening.”
Rebecca desperately sorted through her mind to recall what the name of this particular young gentleman was. Marlow? Matthews? Mandeville, that was it. Hugh Mandeville. He was quite good-looking and had an engaging demeanor.
“Sadly, Mr. Mandeville, I am recovering from a recent injury and cannot dance this evening,” she said. And she was quite sad, she realized.
He frowned. “I am distraught to hear that, Miss Jennings. I hope you are not in any pain?”
“Not at all,” she assured him. “My ankle is nearly healed, borne out by the fact that I am here with only a cane to assist me. I hope to be ready to dance next week.”
His face brightened. “That is good news indeed! Well, if I am not to enjoy dancing with you this evening, perhaps I may sign your dance card anyway and you will stroll with me instead? For the briefest amount of time, if that is your preference. We may use some of that time to sit and converse and get better acquainted.”
“Thank you, Mr. Mandeville,” Rebecca replied. “I would enjoy that very much.” She pushed the image of Ben to the back of her mind and allowed Mr. Mandeville to assist her to her feet.
He offered her his elbow, and they began their walk around the perimeter of the assembly room while Aylesham drank the cup of punch that had been intended for her.
“Is this your first Season, Miss Jennings? I don’t recall seeing you in London before this evening,” Mr. Mandeville said as they greeted other guests.
“It is,” she replied. “I was unable to come to Town before this Season and was nearly unable to come to Town this Season, as my ankle will attest.”
“Well, I am certainly glad you were able to be here at last. Your appearance has brightened my evening, and I daresay it will make the Season much brighter for me and for many others, although I hope not too many others.” He smiled at her.
Goodness, but he was certainly a fine-looking young man, especially when he smiled in such a manner. “I wonder that as charming a gentleman as yourself has not been spoken for already, Mr. Mandeville.”
“I am but a young man yet, Miss Jennings, but I will confess to having lost my heart a time or two, like many a young gentleman would,” he said. “Alas, however, I remain unmarried still. I am waiting for the right young lady, you see.”
“I imagine many a young lady would confess to a similar fate,” Rebecca said and immediately wished she hadn’t.
