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Robert’s shoulders dropped and he opened his eyes. Coming to White’s this evening had been a mistake. He ought to have made his way to some soiree or other, for he had many invitations already but, given that he had only arrived in London the day before, had thought it too early to make his entrance into society. That had been a mistake. Thetonought to know of his arrival just as soon as was possible, so that his name might begin to be whispered amongst them. He could not bear the idea that the pleasant notoriety he had experienced last Season might have faded already!
A small smile pulled at his lips as he considered this, his heart settling into a steady rhythm, free from frustration and upset now. Surely, it was not that he was not remembered by society, but rather that he had chosen the wrong place to make his entrance. The gentlemen of London would not make his return to society of any importance, given that they would be jealous and envious of his desirability in the eyes of the ladies of theton, and therefore, he ought not to have expected such a thing from them! A quiet chuckle escaped his lips as Robert shook his head, passing one hand over his eyes for a moment. It had been a simple mistake and that mistake had brought him irritation and confusion – but that would soon be rectified, once he made his way into full London society.
“You appear to be in better spirits now, Lord Crampton.”
Robert’s brow lifted as he looked back at Lord Burnley, who was studying him with mild interest.
“I have just come to a realization,” he answered, not wanting to go into a detailed explanation but at the same time, wanting to answer Lord Burnley’s question. “I had hoped that I might have been greeted a little more warmly but, given my history, I realize now that I ought not to have expected it from a group of gentlemen.”
Lord Burnley frowned.
“Your history?”
Robert’s jaw tightened, wondering if it was truly that Lord Burnley did not know of what he spoke, or if he was saying such a thing simply to be a little irritating.
“You do not know?” he asked, his own brows drawing low over his eyes as he studied Lord Burnley’s open expression. The man shook his head, his head tipping gently to one side in a questioning manner. “I am surprised. It was the talk of London!”
“Then I am certain you will be keen to inform me of it,” Lord Burnley replied, his tone neither dull nor excited, making Robert’s brow furrow all the more. “Was it something of significance?”
Robert gritted his teeth, finding it hard to believe that Lord Burnley, clearly present at last year’s Season, did not know of what he spoke. For a moment, he thought he would not inform the fellow about it, given that he did not appear to be truly interested in what they spoke of, but then his pride won out and he began to explain.
“Are you acquainted with Lady Charlotte Fortescue?” he asked, seeing Lord Burnley shake his head. “She is the daughter of the Duke of Strathaven. Last Season, when I had only just stepped into the title of the Earl of Crampton, I discovered her being pulled away through Lord Kingsley’s gardens by a most uncouth gentleman and, of course, in coming to her rescue, I struck the fellow a blow that had him knocked unconscious.” His chin lifted slightly as he recalled that moment, remembering how Lady Charlotte had practically collapsed into his arms in the moments after he had struck the despicable Viscount Forthside and knocked him to the ground. Her father, the Duke of Strathaven, had been in search of his daughter and had found them both only a few minutes later, quickly followed by the Duchess of Strathaven. In fact, a small group of gentlemen and ladies had appeared in the gardens and had applauded him for his rescue – and news of it had quickly spread through London society. The Duke of Strathaven had been effusive in his appreciation and thankfulness for Robert’s actions and Robert had reveled in it, finding that his newfound status within thetonwas something to be enjoyed. He had assumed that it would continue into this Season and had told himself that, once he was at a ball or soiree with the ladies of theton, his exaltation would continue. “The Duke and Duchess were, of course, very grateful,” he finished, as Lord Burnley nodded slowly, although there was no exclamation of surprise on his lips nor a gasp of astonishment. “The gentlemen of London are likely a little envious of me, of course, but that is to be expected.”
Much to his astonishment, Lord Burnley broke out into laughter at this statement, his eyes crinkling and his hand lifting his still-full glass towards Robert.
“Indeed, I am certain they are,” he replied, his words filled with a sarcasm that could not be missed. “Good evening, Lord Crampton. I shall go now and tell the other gentlemen here in White’s precisely who you are and what you have done. No doubt they shall come to speak to you at once, given your great and esteemed situation.”
Robert set his jaw, his eyes a little narrowed as he watched Lord Burnley step away, all too aware of the man’s cynicism.It does not matter,he told himself, firmly.Lord Burnley, too, will be a little jealous of your success, and your standing in theton. What else should you expect other than sarcasm and rebuttal?
Rising to his feet, Robert set his shoulders and, with his head held high, made his way from White’s, trying to ignore the niggle of doubt that entered his mind. Tomorrow, he told himself, he would find things much more improved. He would go to whatever occasion he wished and would find himself, of course, just as he had been last Season – practically revered by all those around him.
He could hardly wait.
