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To Will himself she no longer had any resistance. His looks, his mellow voice, the roguish twinkle in his eyes sometimes, his manners — yes, even his manners were all she could ever have dreamt of. If only he were truly hers! If only he were not so charmingly attentive merely to prove himself a gentleman. Well, he had won that contest hands down, for she could find no fault in him. Even when she had thought to provoke him into a quarrel and give him the excuse to release her, he had not done it. He had apologised handsomely, and made her feel an utter worm.
Or even more of a worm, perhaps. She was consumed by guilt, and wished with all her heart she had never followed this path! His family who had accepted her without reserve, his friends who absorbed her into their circle effortlessly, and Will himself, so generous and kind — she had betrayed them all, and she was ashamed of herself. What a wicked woman she was.
And while she waited for Will to do what he must, there was the rest of the season to be endured. The Faulkbourne ball was a matter of no little interest, even for Eloise, for it was the occasion when Lord Albury might step forward as a serious suitor at last for Rosie. Mrs Fletcher was in a great agitation over the prospect, but Eloise could not be so sanguine. He was very eligible, of that there could be no question, and he had been attentive to Rosie, but so were many men who liked to pay court to the acknowledged beauty of the day but had no intention of anything more. Lord Albury was one of those who would dance once with Rosie when he could, but never more than once, and danced with others, too, instead of clinging to her side like a limpet. He had never driven out with her, although one of his sisters had once done so. It was not encouraging, but if he had matrimony in mind, his mother’s ball was the place to show it.
The Fletchers had perfected the art of being fashionably late, and so the Faulkbourne’s ballroom was already a sea of glittering jewels and waving feathers when they arrived. The receiving line consisted of the earl and countess, Lord Albury and two unmarried daughters, twins of twenty who greeted the Fletchers unsmilingly. Even Will’s charm could not coax a smile from them. Lord and Lady Faulkbourne, stately and austere, were distantly polite, as befitted the difference in rank, although they looked hard at Rosie as she was introduced. Lord Albury was his usual courteous self, securing Rosie’s hand for the cotillion and Angie’s for the two after that.
Mrs Fletcher was inclined to be insulted by this laxness. “The cotillion!” she hissed, as soon as they had moved down the steps into the ballroom and were out of earshot. “Thatis not what any of us expected. If he could not stand up with Rosie for the first two, he could at least claim the supper dance. That would be something to the point. But the cotillion! Not even before supper! That is a serious disappointment.”
“Mama, please!” Rosie whispered, her cheeks fiery red. “I am very honoured that he finds time to dance with me at all, at his mother’s own ball. He must have obligations elsewhere.”
“True enough,” Stepmother said, a little mollified. “There will be many ladies of rank here, I make no doubt, with whom he feels obliged to stand up. Lord and Lady Faulkbourne must know everybody. Is Lady Carrbridge to attend this evening, Miss Whittleton?”
“No, there is a function at Carlton House.”
“Oh, the Prince of Wales! Well, I suppose he would take priority over the Earl and Countess of Faulkbourne. That will be a splendid affair. You could have gone to that, I suppose, if it were not for Will.”
“Oh no, Connie would not take me there, or any single lady. That set is too rackety by half, she says. She herself only feels safe with Lord Carrbridge and at least two of his brothers.”
The ballroom was soon too noisy to converse at anything below a shout. Rosie lapsed into her accustomed silence, as her many admirers clustered around her and Angie. It was easy enough to see why so many men became besotted with Rosie. While Angie laughed and chatted and gestured expressively with her hands, Rosie in company was a still, serene figure, her beauty the more mesmerising for its lack of animation.
As more and more guests arrived, the announcements became harder to hear. But abruptly, those nearest the entrance fell silent and the shocked gasps penetrated to the rest of the room. All conversation ground to a halt and all eyes turned to the steps leading into the ballroom. There on the threshold stood a handsome couple in their middle years, stylishly dressed in a flamboyant foreign style, beaming complacently at the astonished faces gazing up at them.
“Mr Jeremy and Lady Penelope Whittleton,” intoned the announcer.
“Lady Penelope?”someone squeaked.
Eloise could not breathe.“Papa?”she whispered.
There was a great roaring in her ears, and the voices around her seemed small and far away. Then there was blackness.
25: Family Feeling
A foul smell made Eloise choke. Spluttering, she struggled to sit up. Why was she lying down on a sofa?
“There now! Smelling salts always do the trick.” A woman she did not recognize, holding a vial.
Another peered over her shoulder. “She is very pale. Some brandy, Redmond.”
“What happened?” Eloise whispered.
“You swooned, my dear,” said the woman with the vial. “Perfectly understandable.”
“Yes, indeed,” said the other. “Such a shock.”
“Anyone would have fainted. I almost fainted myself.” A familiar voice!
“Will?”
“I am here, but the ladies with the smelling salts are better for you, I feel. I would simply have dashed a jug of water in your face.”
And there he was, smiling down at her, as if nothing out of the ordinary had occurred. As if she had not just swooned in the most humiliating manner. As if her father had not—
“Papa!”
“He is waiting outside.” A young man… vaguely familiar… her brain came back into focus and she realized it was Lord Albury, a glass of brandy in his hand. The two women kneeling beside the sofa were his sisters. “He had no idea you were in town, Miss Whittleton, or he would have warned you of his return from Russia.”
“Russia! Was that where he went?”
