The night had finally arrived for Lady Meredith’s birthday ball.
As Patience stood off to the side, quietly observing Lord Ramscar and his sister greeting the new arrivals along with the Dowager Duchess of Solitea, she felt pride in her small part in this evening’s festivities. When she had told the earl that Lady Meredith was awakening, Patience had struck upon the truth. The young woman was quite beautiful.
For her introduction into polite society she had chosen to wear a ball dress of green satin with epaulette sleeves. A white net was attached to the petticoat. It was flounced with a wide band of matching green ribbon with detailed white lace at the hem. Tiny pink roses adorned her waist and slippers. With the assistance of one of the maids, Patience had pinned Lady Meredith’s hair at her crown and then curled the ends. Aware she was sensitive about her facial scars, they arranged the curls to conceal what they could.
“Since you are a friend of Lady Meredith’s, no one would have been offended if you had stood beside her in the receiving line.”
Patience stared at the young woman and tried not to gape. The woman was stunning, about Patience’s age and height, but that was where the similarities ended. She looked like a fairy queen with her dark cinnamon tresses and otherworldly green eyes. The lady reminded her of someone. Patience glanced at the Dowager Duchess of Solitea and smiled. “You must be her daughter, Lady Fayre.”
“Indeed. And you must be Miss Winlow,” she said, greeting her as if they were equals in a world where rank was everything.
Patience wrinkled her nose. “I gather your mother mentioned me.”
“Yes, she spoke highly of you.”
This time, she did not hide her surprise, causing her companion to giggle.
“Did she try to intimidate you?” Lady Fayre shook her head. “My mother is a good judge of character. Ram had told Mama that Lady Meredith’s friend would be joining his household for the season, but it remained to be seen if you were willing to help your dear friend or were here for your own amusements.”
A protest formed on Patience’s lips, but the other woman hastily added, “The duchess’s concerns about you faded minutes after meeting you. My mother admires spirit, and she claims that you are an interesting addition to Ram’s odd household. That is a compliment, coming from her.”
Patience’s gaze returned to Lady Meredith. Sensing she was being watched, the young lady looked back at Patience and waved. Several ladies in the line leaned to the side to see whom the guest of honor was acknowledging. Feeling sort of foolish, Patience waved back. Satisfied, Lady Meredith resumed her conversation with the lady in front of her.
“The duchess has been fretting about this ball since Ramscar wrote her asking for her assistance. Neither one was optimistic that Lady Meredith would attend, and yet there she is, smiling and greeting her guests. I suspect some of the credit goes to you, Miss Winlow,” Lady Fayre said kindly.
Patience basked in the glowing praise. She had
done as Lord Ramscar had asked. Lady Meredith looked lovely, and more important, she seemed genuinely happy. “Perhaps a little,” Patience said brashly, and then abruptly clapped her hand over her mouth in embarrassment when she recalled her surroundings.
“Good grief! That sounded terribly arrogant.”
Both ladies simultaneously burst into laughter.
“Are you certain you do not want to join your friend?”
“It really is not my place. Besides, this is Meredith’s special day.”
Lady Fayre nodded approvingly. “Then come along. My husband, Mr. Brawley, is upstairs checking on our son. He is a new father, and takes his responsibilities very seriously.”
The dowager had mentioned her son-in-law in passing. Obviously, she had great respect and affection for her daughter’s husband. “I have not had the pleasure of meeting Mr. Brawley.”
“I will be certain to introduce you to him later.” Companionably Lady Fayre took Patience by the elbow and guided her toward the large ballroom. “For now, let me introduce you to one of my dearest friends, Lord Darknell. He is sinfully handsome, but you did not hear such praise from me. And over there is another good friend, Lady Lyssa. You will like her. Her family is pressuring her to make a match this season. Oh dear,” Lady Fayre said as
they watched a large-nosed gentleman attempting to pull the statuesque blonde toward the doors that led outside. “Let us go rescue her from Lord Wilberfoss’s clutches, and then we can seek out Darknell.”
Bemused, Patience allowed Lady Fayre to lead her into the ballroom.
“Heavens, Ramscar, let the girl have some fun,” the dowager lightly chided him. When he saw Patience disappear into the ballroom, his instincts told him to follow her. “Miss Winlow is with my daughter. Fayre will keep her out of trouble.”
Not likely.
The Carlisles were an eccentric, unruly clan. He was tempted to remind the older woman that Fayre had had a spot of trouble several years earlier when she was seduced by Lord Thatcher Standish. Their brief affair had caused a scandal. Later she made a bargain with her future husband, Maccus Brawley, in hopes of gaining revenge on the scoundrel who had seduced and humiliated her. She had stirred up the family with her mischief. Her brother and her father had thirsted for both men’s blood.
Wisely, Ramscar held his tongue.
“When we have done our duty, you can go check up on your Miss Winlow,” the dowager said, shrewdly picking up on his interest in Patience.
Ramscar had resisted touching her again since the night he had discovered that she had never known pleasure in a man’s arms. Her contrary mix of innocence and worldliness confused him. He desired her, but she aroused his protective nature. Both sides had been engaged in an internal battle, leaving him surly and hungry for a woman.
“Good evening, Lord Ramscar.” The warm accented voice literally purred his name.
A month earlier when he thought of easing his hunger in a woman’s soft body, he had thought of this woman. Angeline Grassi. Belatedly, he realized he had not contacted her since his return.
He also had not invited her.
Ramscar stared at the dowager, who merely shrugged. “The invitations were sent out before your arrival.”
Before she had met Miss Winlow.
“I thought you would be pleased.”
Not above creating an embarrassing to-do in front of his sister, Angeline pouted. “I have not seen you in months. I have looked forward to resuming our friendship.”
The suggestiveness of the throaty comment was not missed by anyone within earshot, including his innocent sister. He quelled any further comments from the actress with a hard glance. “Miss Grassi, allow me to present my sister, Lady Meredith. Meredith, Miss Grassi is a well-known actress in London.”
His sister gave the blonde a measuring look. Whatever Meredith saw displeased her. “I am sure she is, Brother. Well-known, that is.”
Ramscar’s jaw dropped at his sister’s waspish remark.
Angeline looked puzzled, uncertain whether she had been insulted.
The dowager duchess laughed gaily. The older woman was plainly enjoying his discomfort. “Miss Grassi, I saw you in a play last October. It was an admirable performance.”
Grateful to seize upon anything that would end the awkward moment, the actress said, “Thank you, Your Grace.”
“Let us not keep you from the revelry in the ballroom. Later, if you like, you can tell me about the new play you are rehearsing.”
“
Sì, grazie.
” Angeline eagerly nodded. She stared at him hungrily, letting him know her next words were for him alone. “I shall look forward to
it.
”
She strolled off, confident everyone was observing her departure.
Immediately, Meredith pounced on him. “Is that vulgar Miss Grassi your mistress?”
The older woman snapped open her fan and concealed half her face while she rapidly fanned herself. “Yes, Ramscar, I would like to hear this one, too.”
Ram suspected the lady was laughing at him. He
offered them both an aggrieved look. “No. Miss Grassi is not my mistress.”
Not anymore
.
“Satisfied?”
Meredith glared at the distant figure of Angeline Grassi and stiffly nodded. “I will be as long as she is
not
!” Meredith stomped off in the direction of the ballroom. Most likely she was searching for Patience.
Ramscar was about to order Meredith to return, but he and the dowager duchess were alone. They had greeted the majority of their guests. Irritated, he glowered at the lady beside him. “Do you want to comment on my former mistress, too?”
Still laughing, the dowager shook her head. “I believe I will let your sister have the final say on Miss Grassi. I recognize a superior exit when I see it.”
Upset by the obscene manner in which that horrid woman had stared at her brother, Meredith stepped into the ballroom not really knowing where she was heading. Despite her brother’s denial, she knew he had bedded the actress. The woman thought she had a claim on Ram. She had only accepted the invitation this evening so she could issue a private invitation of her own.
Horrible, greedy creature.
Meredith was extremely disappointed in her
brother. He was an intelligent man. Why had he not seen beyond the pretty mask to the ambitious woman underneath? Were all men so easily beguiled? A couple walked by her, nodding and smiling as they passed. Meredith noted the gentleman’s gaze had lingered on her cheek.
Her scars.
She brought her hand up to her cheek. Changing directions, she stepped on a gentleman’s shoes. Appalled, she looked up to apologize and immediately recognized the familiar handsome face.
“L-l-lord Halthorn,” she stammered, letting her hand move away from her cheek and drop to her side. She took several steps back and curtsied. “I was not aware you had received an invitation.”
“Her Grace issued me a belated one.” He stared into Meredith’s face, momentarily forgetting that he was in the middle of an explanation. He shook his head, giving her a beatific smile that warmed her all the way down to her toes. “Forgive me for my tardiness. I had a prior commitment that I could not decline. I came to see you—” He cleared his throat and tried again. “It is your birthday. I-I brought you something.”
Curious and touched that he had brought her a small gift, Meredith quietly watched as he retrieved something that he had tucked into one of the small pockets of his waistcoat.
He opened his hand, revealing a small conical shell.
“This is for me? It is lovely.” Meredith was not merely being kind. The delicate dark and light brown lines and dots created a pleasing symmetrical pattern.
He carefully placed the shell on her palm. “
Voluta musica Linnaeus.
”
Meredith giggled. The words reminded her of a love spell she had once read in a romantic tale. “I beg your pardon?”
“Its scientific name,” he said, amused. “I have an extensive collection of seashells from all over the world. This particular one was found in Tobago.”
“Really?” She cradled the shell with both hands, admiring it. “I have never been to Tobago.”
“Neither have I,” he confessed, his expression rueful. “A friend sent me this specimen for my collection. I have been collecting specimens since I was a boy.”
“Oh no.” She offered the shell back to him. “This was meant for your collection. I could not take it.”
Tenderly, he closed her fingers over the seashell. “If I want another, I will sail to Tobago and pluck it from the water. This one is clearly meant for you.”
Meredith had never seen a more exquisite shell. She stared at her precious gift and then into the brown eyes of the gentleman who had been thoughtful
enough to bring it to her. “Thank you, Lord Halthorn.”
Smiling brilliantly up at him, she forgot about her anger over Angeline Grassi.
“Are you enjoying your first London ball, Miss Winlow?” Lord Everod courteously inquired as they strolled away from the other dancers.
The viscount had been an excellent dance partner, but he had not been the first. The second son of a baron had approached her while she had been chatting with Lady Fayre and her husband. Once the first dance had ended, several other gentlemen had approached Patience. Lord Everod was her fourth dance partner for the evening.
“Indeed, my lord.” Patience searched the crowded ballroom until she saw Meredith. She was sitting on one of the sofas positioned against the wall, conversing with Lord Halthorn.
“Am I a boring companion, Miss Winlow?” the viscount asked, grinning at her when she realized how rude her behavior might seem.
Sensing he was merely teasing her, she said, “You are a tolerable companion, Lord Everod. I was just looking for Lady Meredith. I would not be a proper … friend if I thought only of myself.”