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Two nights later, Nora attended a soiree with Lady Satterfield at the home of Lord Bunting. It wasn’t a crush, but there was far more of a crowd than Nora had anticipated. She’d forgotten how many people spent their evenings seeking entertainment around London. It made the last nine years of her life seem incredibly sedate and painfully lonely.
But then she hadn’t needed the social whirl of London to underscore that point.
She’d been too aware of her solitude as well as the fact that she’d be alone forever. Until she wasn’t. And now that she wasn’t… Well, it felt strange to be thrust into this madness again.
Madness? Was that how she saw it?
Yes, becauseanyonewould acknowledge that the London Season was overwhelming and terrible and quite, quite mad.
Then why was she here?
Because she didn’t want to go back to the way things were—not that she could, given her father’s failures. Still, she didn’t have to be doingthis. She could content herself with working as someone’s companion. Except the temptation of a husband, a family, of a quiet, comfortable life was too great to ignore.
“Nora?” Lady Satterfield interrupted Nora’s woolgathering in the saloon, where the women had moved after dinner.
Nora realized she’d missed whatever conversation had been going on around her and silently chided herself to pay more heed. She didn’t want to embarrass Lady Satterfield. “I was just wondering when the dancing might start,” she said, in an effort to mask her inattention.
Lady Satterfield’s brow made a tiny crease, but only for a fleeting moment. “Lady Bunting just indicated the drawing room is ready. Shall we go?”
As the other women began to rise, Nora inwardly cringed at having been caught fibbing. She stood, and Lady Satterfield leaned close. “It’s quite all right. If you’re tired, we can make an early night of it.”
Nora wanted to hug the countess for her quick and compassionate understanding. But she wasn’t tired. She was just… She didn’t know what she was. Eager to dance, she decided. Yes, that was one thing about London she loved and felt fortunate to take part in once again.
“Thank you, but I’d like to stay. I simply became lost in my thoughts for a few minutes.” Nora left the sitting room at Lady Satterfield’s side.
As soon as they entered the drawing room, Nora was beset by a trio of gentlemen who asked her to dance. She promised to partner all three of them, and they took their leave until the music started.
Lady Satterfield beamed at her. “My goodness, that was wonderful, wasn’t it?”
Nora didn’t know what to say. After dancing with Kendal the other night, she’d danced just twice more. She’d appreciated the attention but had assumed it was because she was the ward of the hostess. Tonight, however, she was simply another guest. And perhaps a sought-after one at that.
After so many years away and because of the manner in which she’d left town, she couldn’t help but feel wary. She turned to Lady Satterfield. “Why do you suppose that happened?”
Lady Satterfield let out a light laugh. “You are attractive, intelligent, and beyond the age of simpering. I imagine that will appeal to a great many gentlemen.”
Nora wondered if the modest dowry, which Lord and Lady Satterfield had insisted on settling on her, had also played a part. Probably, but that was how things worked. One married for a variety of reasons, including financial gain. Wasn’t Nora looking to improve her own station? She wasn’t in search of a title or an excess of money, but shediddesire comfort.
Her first partner was Lord Markham, an earl in his middle thirties with a fading hairline and a warm smile. He’d spent the past decade serving the government and was now, according to Lady Satterfield, on the hunt for a wife.
They spoke of London entertainments and outdoor pursuits. He was an affable fellow, and Nora enjoyed their time together. But it was over soon enough, and she went on to her next partner, Mr. Reginald Dawson. As with the first dance, she and Mr. Dawson exchanged pleasantries. A bit younger than Lord Markham, Dawson was a widower with two small children. He made no secret of saying he was looking for a new wife—one who wouldn’t shrink from stepping into the role of mother.
“I suspect I’m in for a challenge,” he said. “Trying to find a lady who won’t mind an immediate family.” He glanced at Nora as the dance drew to an end.
Nora thought about that—an instant family—and decided it didn’t frighten her. She had next to no experience with children, but she wasn’t afraid of the prospect, not when she heartily wanted a family of her own. “Oh, I don’t know,” she said, taking his arm so that he could lead her from the dance floor. “You might be surprised, Mr. Dawson.”
He shot her a glance that was, in fact, surprised, his dark brown eyes sparkling. “Indeed? That is excellent to hear.”
Dawson guided her to the refreshment table, where Nora accepted a glass of ratafia.
“Thank you again for the dance,” Dawson said, his lips curving into a smile. “I shall look forward to our next encounter.” He presented a gallant bow, to which Nora responded with a curtsey.
As soon as he left, a woman approached, and Nora nearly choked on her drink. It was Lady Kipp-Landon, with whom she’d become reacquainted at Lady Satterfield’s tea.
Nora eyed the other woman with a healthy sense of caution and glanced around for her companion, the supercilious Lady Abercrombie. Thankfully, she was nowhere to be seen.
Lady Kipp-Landon stretched her lips into a ghastly smile. Or at least it looked ghastly to Nora. Something about it didn’t ring quite true. Maybe it was because of what she said. “How delightful to see you here, Miss Lockhart. What a lovely gown.” Her gaze dipped to Nora’s costume, which was a paler shade of the gold she’d worn to Lady Satterfield’s ball—a color Lady Abercrombie had mocked.
The devil nestled close on Nora’s shoulder. “You’re sure the color isn’t too outdated?” she asked and almost instantly regretted it. She mustn’t sink to their level.
