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Pushing all doubt aside, Robert walked into White’s with the air of someone who expected not only to be noticed, but to be greeted and exclaimed over in the most exaggerated manner. His chin lifted as he snapped his fingers towards one of the waiting footmen, giving him his request for the finest of brandies in short, sharp words. Then, he continued to make his way inside, his hands swinging loosely by his sides, his shoulders pulled back and his chest a little puffed out.
“Goodness, is that you?”
Robert grinned, his expectations seeming to be met, as a gentleman to his left rose to his feet and came towards him, only for him to stop suddenly and shake his head.
“Forgive me, you are not Lord Johnstone,” he said, holding up both hands, palms out, towards Robert. “I thought that you were he, for you have a very similar appearance.”
Grimacing, Robert shrugged and said not a word, making his way past the gentleman and finding a slight heat rising into his face. To be mistaken for another was one thing, but to remain entirely unrecognized was quite another! His doubts attempted to come rushing back. Surely someone would remember him, would remember what he had done last Season?
“Lord Crampton, good evening.”
Much to his relief, Robert heard his title being spoken and turned his head to the right, seeing a gentleman sitting in a high-backed chair, a glass of brandy in his hand and a small smile on his face as he looked up at Robert.
“Good evening, Lord Marchmont,” Robert replied, glad indeed that someone, at least, had recognized him. “I am back in London, as you can see.”
“I hope you find it a pleasant visit,” came the reply, only for Lord Marchmont to turn away and continue speaking to another gentleman sitting opposite – a man whom Robert had neither seen, nor was acquainted with. There was no suggestion from Lord Marchmont about introducing Robert to him and, irritated, Robert turned sharply away. His head dropped, his shoulders rounded, and he did not even attempt to keep his frustration out of his expression. His jaw tightened, his eyes blazed and his hands balled into fists.
Had they all forgotten him so quickly?
Practically flinging himself into a large, overstuffed armchair in the corner of White’s, Robert began to mutter darkly to himself, almost angry about how he had been treated. Last Season he had been the talk of London! Why should he be so easily forgotten now? Unpleasant memories rose, of being inconspicuous, and disregarded, when he had first inherited his title. He attempted to push them aside, but his upset grew steadily so that even the brandy he was given by the footman – who had spent some minutes trying to find Lord Crampton – tasted like ash in his mouth. Nothing took his upset away and Robert wrapped it around his shoulders like a blanket, huddling against it and keeping it close to him.
He had not expected this. He had hoped to be not only remembered but celebrated! When he stepped into a room, he thought that he should be noticed. Hewantedhis name to be murmured by others, for it to be spread around the room that he had arrived! Instead, he was left with an almost painful frustration that he had been so quickly forgotten by thetonwho, only a few months ago, had been his adoring admirers.
“Another brandy might help remove that look from your face.” Robert did not so much as blink, hearing the man’s voice but barely acknowledging it. “You are upset, I can tell.” The man rose and came to sit opposite Robert, who finally was forced to recognize him. “That is no way for a gentleman to appear upon his first few days in London!”
Robert’s lip curled. He should not, he knew, express his frustration so openly, but he found that he could not help himself.
“Good evening, Lord Burnley,” he muttered, finding the man’s broad smile and bright eyes to be nothing more than an irritation. “Areyouenjoying the London Season thus far?”
Lord Burnley chuckled, his eyes dancing - which added to Robert’s irritation all the more. He wanted to turn his head away, to make it plain to Lord Burnley that he did not enjoy his company and wanted very much to be free of it, but his standing as a gentleman would not permit him to do so.
“I have only been here a sennight but yes, I have found a great deal of enjoyment thus far,” Lord Burnley told him. “But you should expect that, should you not? After all, a gentleman coming to London for the Season comes for good company, fine wine, excellent conversation and to be in the company of beautiful young ladies – one of whom might even catch his eye!”
This was, of course, suggestive of the fact that Lord Burnley might have had his head turned already by one of the young women making their come out, but Robert was in no mood to enter such a discussion. Instead, he merely sighed, picked up his glass again and held it out to the nearby footman, who came over to them at once.
“Another,” he grunted, as the man took his glass from him. “And for Lord Burnley here.”
Lord Burnley chuckled again, the sound grating on Robert’s skin.
“I am quite contented with what I have at present, although I thank you for your consideration,” he replied, making Robert’s brow lift in surprise. What sort of gentleman turned down the opportunity to drink fine brandy? Half wishing that Lord Burnley would take his leave so that he might sit here in silence and roll around in his frustration, Robert settled back in his chair, his arms crossed over his chest and his gaze turned away from Lord Burnley in the vain hope that this would encourage the man to take his leave. He realized that he was behaving churlishly, yet somehow, he could not prevent it – he had hoped so much, and so far, nothing was as he had expected. “So, you are returned to London,” Lord Burnley said, making Robert roll his eyes at the ridiculous observation which, for whatever reason, Lord Burnley either did not notice or chose to ignore. “Do you have any particular intentions for this Season?”
Sending a lazy glance towards Lord Burnley, Robert shrugged.
“If you mean to ask whether or not I intend to pursue one particular young lady with the thought of matrimony in mind, then I must tell you that you are mistaken to eventhinkthat I should care for such a thing,” he stated, plainly. “I am here only to enjoy myself.”
“I see.”
Lord Burnley gave no comment in judgment of Robert’s statement, but Robert felt it nonetheless, quite certain that Lord Burnley now thought less of him for being here solely for his own endeavors. He scowled. Lord Burnley might have decided that it was the right time for him to wed, but Robert had no intention of doing so whatsoever. Given his good character, given his standing and his title, there would be very few young ladies who would suit him, and Robert knew that it would take a significant effort not only to first identify such a young lady but also to then make certain that she would suit him completely. It was not something that he wanted to put his energy into at present. For the moment, Robert had every intention of simply dancing and conversing and mayhap even calling upon the young ladies of theton,but that would be for his own enjoyment rather than out of any real consideration.
Besides which,he told himself,given that thetonwill, no doubt, remember all that you did last Season, there will be many young ladies seeking out your company which would make it all the more difficult to choose only one, should you have any inclination to do so!
“And are you to attend Lord Newport’s ball tomorrow evening?”
Being pulled from his thoughts was an irritating interruption and Robert let the long sigh fall from his lips without hesitation, sending it in Lord Burnley’s direction who, much to Robert’s frustration, did not even react to it.
“I am,” Robert replied, grimacing. “Although I do hope that the other guests will not make too much of my arrival. I should not like to steal any attention away from Lord and Lady Newport.”
Allowing himself a few moments of study, Robert looked back at Lord Burnley and waited to see if there was even a hint of awareness in his expression. Lord Burnley, however, merely shrugged one shoulder and turned his head away, making nothing at all of what Robert had told him. Gritting his teeth, Robert closed his eyes and tried to force out another long, calming breath. He did not need Lord Burnley to remember what he had done, nor to celebrate it. What was important was that the ladies of thetonrecalled it, for then he would be more than certain to have their attention for the remainder of the Season – and that was precisely what Robert wanted. Their attention would elevate him in the eyes of theton, would bring him into sharp relief against the other gentlemen who were enjoying the Season in London. He did not care what the gentlemen thought of him, he reminded himself, for their considerations were of no importance save for the fact that they might be able to invite him to various social occasions.
