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Chapter One
“Your sister looks to be enjoying herself. What if she were to make a match before you?”
Anna rolled her eyes as they walked arm in arm around the ballroom, the chalked floor sending up tiny clouds of dust everywhere. “Clara, you know very well that I have already accepted the fact that I am to be a spinster. If Lucy does well and makes a good match, then I shall be delighted for her.” Her heart did not ache as she spoke, there came no twinge of upset or doubt. Instead, she felt herself quite contented and settled, seemingly now much at ease with the rejection from society. “I want Lucy to do well, given that I have not done so.”
Clara shook her head. “I think you give up a little too easily, my friend. What if there is some wonderful gentleman simply waiting to step out of the shadows and declare himself quite in love with you?”
A shout of laughter broke from Anna’s lips, and she was forced to duck her head at the sharp looks sent in her direction because of it. “Forgive me, I do not mean to mock you,” she said, as Clara chuckled at Anna’s embarrassment. “It is only that it is so very unlikely! I have met near all the gentlemen here in London over my many, many Seasons that I do not think there is anyone such as you have described.” She smiled at her friend. “We cannot all have the same fortune as you, my dear friend.” Clara had married Lord Willoughby in her second Season – a gentleman who clearly adored her from the moment he laid eyes upon her – and Anna had been overjoyed for her friend. It was very pleasing that Clara should want the same thing for her also, but Anna was quite sure it would not be. Her situation was somewhat hopeless, as far as she was concerned, but that did not trouble her as it once did. If society wished to label her as too much of a bluestocking for any gentleman to be interested in, then so be it. She would rather have her books than a scornful, disagreeable gentleman as her husband!
“I am determined not to give up hope,” Clara said, spiritedly. “My dear husband has told me that I should not press you so, but he does not know you as I do. He does not know that you will take each of my words as encouragement, that you will be thankful for all that I am doing for you.” These last sentences were said with a lifted eyebrow, and Anna could not help but laugh, her friend’s light teasing making her smile.
“I shall, of course, be very grateful for all your endeavors, Clara,” she promised, inclining her head just a little. “But even if they turn out to be quite hopeless, I shall be thankful for your concern all the same.” Glancing over her shoulder, she leaned her head toward her friend so she could speak quietly. “Truth be told, I am glad that my mother’s attention is now fixed upon Lucy. To have her hovering over me the last few years and seeing the heaviness in her expression when she realized I was determined to speak of my learning and my love of reading did trouble me somewhat.”
A line formed across Clara’s forehead as she frowned. “And you would not hide such interest from any gentlemen, would you?”
Anna grimaced. “No, though you are not the only one to suggest it. Ellen, before she wed, suggested that I pretend I was not a bluestocking, that I did not have an interest in things that only gentlemen are supposedly permitted to read about. I could not do that – and I still will not. What sort of marriage would it be if I were to pretend that I was not the person I truly am? I would not be able to reveal such an interest once I was wed, for that would make my husband realize that I had deceived him, and I cannot think that such a thing would be good for any sort of matrimony.”
Clara sighed and nodded slowly. “I suppose you are right.”
“I am, as I have said, quite contented,” Anna told her again. “If something were to happen and I were to meet a gentleman who did not care for such a thing, then that would certainly be worth considering. But for the time being, I am content to be a spinster. I shall come and look after your children, whenever you are blessed with some.”
Her friend heaved a sigh that told Anna she was not overly pleased with her and her statement here, but Anna could do nothing about that. She was determined to be not only truthful about herself but also accepting that, given her many Seasons and the lack of interest from gentlemen of the ton, she was not about to find a path toward matrimony. If her future were to be one without such a thing, then she would find contentment elsewhere; she was sure of it.
“Lady Anna, Lady Willoughby, good evening.”
Anna blinked, stopped, and then bobbed a quick curtsy, struggling to recall the gentleman’s name. “Good evening.”
“Good evening, Lord Yardley.” Clara shot Anna a quick look but then smiled again in Lord Yardley’s direction. “How do you fare this evening?”
Lord Yardley, with rounded shoulders and a disagreeable expression that never seemed to leave his face, sighed loudly and shook his head. “I am not enjoying this evening thus far, truth be told. I do struggle to find happiness at events such as this.”
Hiding a wry smile, Anna looked away, recalling Lord Yardley’s often dull demeanor. He was not a gentleman who had any sort of enjoyment in anything, for she did not think that she had ever seen him smile.
“I suppose that I should dance, however, since it is expected,” he sighed, looking to Anna. “I would ask for your dance card, Lady Anna, but the dance is just about to be upon us, and I am quite sure you do not have anyone’s name written there, regardless.”
His words sent a streak of astonishment up Anna’s spine, followed by a flush of heat in her cheeks. He was quite right, of course, but to have him speak so bluntly had caused a sting of pain.
“It is the cotillion,” he said, holding out one hand to her expectantly.
Anna had no choice. Seeing Clara’s frown – no smile of delight or happiness there – she forced herself to put her hand on Lord Yardley’s arm and permitted him to lead her to the center of the ballroom. She did not want to dance with such a staid, disagreeable fellow, but what choice did she have? It was not proper for any young lady to refuse a gentleman who asked her to dance, and she was not about to bring any shame to her good name. That would, in turn, mortify her family, and she did not want that.
Lord Yardley let out another long, drawn-out sigh and, as the music began, stepped forward and took her hand, no smile on his face. “Societal requirements can be so very burdensome, can they not?”
Tight-lipped, Anna only nodded and determined not to say anything further to Lord Yardley. He was not a gentleman inclined toward conversation at the best of times, and she had no desire to try to eke out any sort of remarks from him. Moving through the dance with grace and practiced ease, both she and Lord Yardley remained silent as the music led their steps. There was no enjoyment here, no happiness or delight, and Anna could hardly wait until the dance had come to an end.
“I must say, I was disappointed that it was Lord Yardley who asked you to dance.”
Anna snorted. “You cannot have been more disappointed than I, given that I had to dance with him!” She stepped out of the French doors beside Clara, the evening air cooling her hot cheeks. Lord Yardley’s dance had finished only a few minutes ago, and the way he had led her back toward Clara and then disappeared without even a word of acknowledgment or thanks had rifled Anna’s irritation.
“I suppose that is true.” Clara smiled, her face lit by the lingering light from the ballroom as they descended the steps toward the dark gardens. There were a few torches lit along the way, bringing some relief to the shadows that overwhelmed them. “Mayhap you will find someone else to dance with, and that will bring you a renewed happiness.”
“I can assure you that I am already more than contented to simply be in the company of friends and family,” Anna said firmly. “I do not need to dance with anyone to gain that.”
Clara smiled and was about to say more, only to see someone ahead of them. With a wave, she hurried forward and left Anna to meander along the path. Anna slowed her steps, smiling to herself as Clara embraced her husband – in a manner that most of the ton would think entirely unbecoming of a young lady even if they were already husband and wife! She paused for a few moments, thinking to give Clara and Lord Willoughby a few minutes together before she went to join them. Tilting her head back, she looked up at the evening sky, taking in the dancing stars and the half-moon that gleamed so brightly. The happiness that came from seeing such beauty pushed away Lord Yardley’s frustrating manner and she let out a small sigh of contentment as she began to stroll along the path once more, intending to join Clara and her husband.
Her foot slipped, and she let out a yelp of surprise, her hands going out in front of her only for a strong arm to catch her about the waist, steadying her. Breathless, Anna put one hand to her heart, hearing it hammering as the arm about her waist released her gently.
“Are you quite all right?”
She nodded, taking a careful step back as she looked up into the gentleman’s eyes, struggling to make him out. “Yes, I thank you.”
“But of course.”
Before she could say anything more, before she could ask him his name, he had turned on his heel and walked away from her. Considering that this was, no doubt, more than appropriate since they had not been introduced and, secondly, were standing alone, Anna returned her attention to Clara and walked tentatively toward them.
“There you are.” Clara beamed at her, now happily situated beside her husband. “I thought you were lost!”
“I fell,” Anna admitted, as Clara’s smile faded. “I thought I would quite ruin my gown and embarrass myself, but a gentleman was most obliging indeed and kept me from doing so!” Her face warmed gently as she recalled the strength of the gentleman’s arm about her waist. “A pity I did not have the opportunity to ask who it was.”
“It might have been Lord Merrowden, for he was here only a few moments ago and stated he intended to make his way back inside,” Lord Willoughby suggested, though the name did not mean anything to Anna. “If you wish, I can point him out to you once we are back in the ballroom?”
Anna smiled her thanks. “I would thank him properly, but we have not been introduced, for I do not recognize his name.”
“Then let us return to the ballroom now, shall we?” Clara, a gleam in her eye that Anna did not fully understand, grinned at Anna. “Let us see if we can find a way to introduce you to the somewhat mysterious Lord Merrowden!”
Chapter Two
Alaric’s hand burned from where it had settled on the lady’s waist. He had been momentarily stunned by the interaction, moving without thinking to catch her from falling, but then, in looking into her eyes, he found something within him stirring. Something that he had thought long dead, never to be revived.
“Drink?”
He blinked, pulling himself out of his thoughts as Lord Markham pressed a glass into his hand. “I thank you.”
His friend tilted his head. “Are you quite all right? You look a little dazed.”
Alaric scowled. “There is nothing the matter with me.”
“Apart from that dark look on your face,” came the quick reply, but Alaric did not respond to this. He did not want to tell his friend that, seemingly out of nowhere, he had found his attention caught by a young lady. His wife had only a few years passed, and he did not want to even permit himself to think in such a way!
“You do know this is why I convinced you to come to London, do you not?” Lord Markham’s eyebrows lifted slightly. “Your mourning period was long at an end and still, you lingered at your estate in sorrow and grief. It was not good for you to be so long without company … nor for your children, though I confess, I did not expect you to bring them to London with you!”
Alaric shrugged. “It was important for them that they be with me.” His lips pulled flat once more. “I did not expect my father-in-law to join us in London, however, although at least he is in his own townhouse.”
Lord Markham chuckled. “I know he has been something of a … presence in your household these last few months.”
“That is an understatement,” Alaric said firmly. His father-in-law, whose estate was only half a day’s drive away from his own, had been at his manor house very frequently indeed these last few years. At first, Alaric had believed it to be the grief of losing his daughter that had brought him to the house – and mayhap, it had once been. Now, however, there was something of an overbearing manner with Lord Ravenshaw, which Alaric was appreciating less and less.
“Now, let us take the conversation away from less severe matters and instead, speak about what we both hope to gain from this Season.” Lord Markham, throwing back the rest of his brandy, set down the glass on a nearby table and then rubbed his hands together, scanning the large crowd. “I think I must – ”
“Do as you have always done and behave in a manner that is spoken of rather poorly by the ton?” Alaric arched one eyebrow as his friend rolled his eyes obviously. “Come now, my friend! You cannot pretend that you have not been something of a rake at times.”
“Only at times,” Lord Markham said, with a wicked grin spreading across his face, which Alaric could not help laughing at. “There was that very favorable widow last Season, do you recall her? I thought her very pretty indeed, and her manner was also quite delightful.”
Alaric snorted. “I recall that she would not have you.”
“No, she would not.” Lord Markham let out a heavy sigh. “Though it was not from my lack of trying!”
“Indeed not,” Alaric replied, wryly. “So, what then? Are you going to try for her again in the hope that she might give in to you?”
“No.” Lord Markham lifted his head, stood tall, and then, much to Alaric’s surprise, set a steady gaze upon him. “I have decided that I shall wed.” He held up one hand, palm out toward Alaric. “Do not protest, my friend! Do not even think to express your astonishment, for I know that it is in you.”
Doing his best to remain stoic, Alaric said nothing but instead lifted his glass to his lips. He was utterly astonished to hear that Lord Markham thought now to wed, for he had spent near enough ten years doing nothing but enjoying himself! From the moment he had stepped out into society as a young, green fellow, he had thrown himself toward all that society could offer him and had never once thought to marry. Even Alaric’s marriage had done nothing to change Lord Markham’s thoughts! So, what had brought about such a change?
“My cousin has married recently,” Lord Markham continued, speaking more quietly now and answering Alaric’s unspoken question as he did so. “Their first child will be born in the wintertime. I think, upon hearing this news, I realized that should I fail in my duties, then the title and all that goes with it will be bequeathed to my cousin and taken out of my own family line – and I cannot have that. It is not to say that my cousin does not have the right respectability or the like, for he is a good deal more responsible than, I, it seems!” His lips curved wryly. “I see now that my responsibility is to the title and to those who have gone before me and that I have shied away from that for far too long.” His eyes went to Alaric, a steadiness in them that surprised Alaric all the more. “I see that I must now wed and produce the heir, as every titled gentleman in my family line has done.”
“Then I congratulate you on your clear thinking at last,” Alaric answered, with a small smile. “Do you have any young lady in your consideration?”
Lord Markham shook his head. “Given that we have only just arrived in London, and that this is our first ball, I have not had time to be enamored by anyone as yet,” he said, with a chuckle. “Before you returned from your walk out in the gardens, however, I was introduced to a very lovely young lady out for her first Season – a Lady Lucy, who is the daughter of a very respectable earl.”
“Oh?”
Lord Markham’s lips tugged upwards on one side. “Should you like me to make an introduction for you also? I would have thought that a debutante – ”
“I would not even think about courting a debutante,” Alaric interrupted before his friend could suggest anything of the sort. “I am too old and too weathered for such youth and joviality.”
His friend’s brow furrowed. “You are not a gentleman without any goodness in you, Merrowden,” he said, quietly. “Do not think so poorly of yourself.”
Alaric lifted his shoulders, then let them drop, obviously. “I have burdens. It would take the right sort of lady to come alongside me as I carry them.” Seeing his friend’s frown darken, he let out a sigh of exasperation. “Yes, yes, I am well aware that it would be best for me to marry again. The children are under the care of a governess now and shall be for some years to come, but it is not the same thing as having a lady of the house present.”
Setting a hand on Alaric’s shoulder, Lord Markham looked keenly into Alaric’s face. “Any young lady you choose to marry will never replace Margaret,” he said, as Alaric’s throat tightened. “But all the same, she – whoever she may be – will fill a space that is both within your house and your heart, should you permit it.”
Alaric shook his head. “I have no intention of ever allowing feelings or emotions to rise within my heart again,” he stated, as his friend dropped his hand from his shoulder. “A practical match is all I require.”
Lord Markham nodded in seeming understanding. “Lady Ashford, the widow of Lord Ashford, has been doing her best to catch your attention for some time this evening,” he said, a twinkle appearing in his eye. “You are acquainted with her already, I know, but she does seem eager for your attention.”
Alaric smiled ruefully. “Yes, I am acquainted with Lady Ashford, but I have no interest in making anything more of our connection.”
“I fear she may be very persistent.” Lord Markham chuckled. “Well, if you are not to look in her direction, then come, let me make some introductions, else you shall never know any other ladies present!” His eyes grew warm as he looked at someone over Alaric’s shoulder. “As I said, there is Lady Lucy, and I would be glad to introduce you to her, even if you think her too young.”
Alaric turned and, much to his surprise, found himself gazing directly at the young lady he had helped out in the gardens. When she had looked up at him, the moonlight had lit her expression, so he had been able to see her clearly enough and now, in the light of the ballroom, Alaric had to admit that she was certainly rather pretty. “Do you mean the young lady with chestnut hair?”
“No, no. I do not know who that is, but I am acquainted with Lady Lucy, who stands next to the lady you have taken note of. See? She has golden hair and the most vivid green eyes I think I have ever seen!”
Glancing at the fair-haired young lady, Alaric acknowledged his recognition with a nod. “Very well,” he said, aware that he wanted very much to know the name of the lady from the garden. “Let us make our introductions and hope that all goes well.”
“Lady Anna, how glad I am to be introduced to you.” Alaric bowed and then, as he lifted his gaze, took her in discreetly. Her modestly arranged chestnut curls seemed to be brushed with gold in the candlelight, her gray eyes touched with the faintest hue of blue. When she looked back at him, Alaric was caught by an intelligence in her gaze, a curiosity that offered him questions he wanted to answer but yet did not know. She was certainly a little older than her sister beside her, but Alaric could not tell by just how much. There was still a vivacity in her expression, and her easy smile and gentle manner spoke of gentility and propriety.
“And I you,” she answered, before Alaric was forced to turn his attention toward Lady Lucy, giving her the very same welcome he had given to Lady Anna.
“And how glad I am to be introduced to you also, Lady Lucy,” he said, bowing for the second time as their mother, the Countess of Harcourt, looked on. “I hear this is your first time in society?”
Lady Lucy nodded. “It is indeed, but I am delighted to have finally made my come out.” Her gaze slid toward Lady Anna. “I have had some years of waiting, but no longer!”
A flush touched Lady Anna’s cheeks, and she looked away, making Alaric frown. Lord Markham, who had not seemed to notice Lady Lucy’s somewhat impolite remark, began to ask about the ball itself and just how much Lady Lucy was enjoying it, but Alaric trained his attention upon Lady Anna. It was clear to him now, from Lady Lucy’s remark, that Lady Anna had enjoyed a few Seasons here in London but had not yet married – did that mean she would now be considered a spinster?
“Should you like to dance, Lady Anna?”
The question came from his lips somewhat abruptly, and his heart kicked hard. He had not had any intention of dancing this evening, and yet, here he was now asking Lady Anna to do that very thing! And for what purpose? Surely the ton would take notice of him dancing with a spinster, if indeed that was what she was?
“How very kind of you, Lord Merrowden.” Without showing even the smallest hint of surprise, Lady Anna handed him her dance card and then looked away. Alaric’s eyebrows lifted as he looked down at it, astonished to note that there were no dances taken thus far. Was there something wrong with this lady’s character? Something of which he ought to be made aware? Biting his lip, he frowned but then signed his name for the country dance. He could not simply hand her back her dance card without his name upon it, even if he were a little concerned as to why no other gentleman wanted to step out with her.
“And you, Lady Lucy?” he asked, knowing that propriety demanded it as Lord Markham asked for Lady Anna’s dance card. Soon, their dances taken, Alaric excused himself and then stepped away, his friend beside him. He would return for the ladies when the time came for their dance.
“I recognize who she is now.”
Alaric frowned hard, looking at his friend. “Who do you mean?”
“Lady Anna,” Lord Markham said, glancing back over his shoulder. “I have not been introduced to her before now, but she is known all through society.”
“For what reason?”
Lord Markham shrugged. “She is a bluestocking and a spinster. Given that her father is an earl and a wealthy one at that, I am surprised – as are many in the ton that she is unwed still, but then again, no gentleman wants to have a bluestocking for a wife!”
“No, indeed not,” Alaric mused, thinking silently to himself that there was no great concern in his heart over whether the lady was such a thing as that. She was intelligent, well read, and learned, it seemed, but what difficulty presented itself in that? His frown lingered as he thought about the lady, wondering if their dance together, and the conversation that would go with it would either add to his interest in her or take it away instead. Rubbing one hand over his chin, he darted a glance behind him again, noting how the lady laughed at something her mother had said, her sister smiling along with her. There was a warmth between them all that could not be denied, and that, Alaric had to admit, brought a joy to his heart. That was what he desired for his own family, what he had always hoped for – and it was the one thing that had been taken away from him, perhaps never to be replaced again.
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