Magical Weddings (111 page)

Ana linked her arm more securely through Harriet’s, stiffened her spine and lifted her chin.

Lady Bramley–a tall, once-attractive woman dressed far younger than her years–was the first to approach. She alone looked delighted to see them. Ana gritted her teeth and smiled for all she was worth. She felt Harriet wilt a little beside her and pulled her closer.

“I do so admire your courage, Miss Burton,” Lady Bramley said, face twisting into a caricature of a sympathetic expression. “I do not think I could stand to be here, knowing what people were saying about me.”

“Oh, Harriet never pays any attention to gossip,” Ana said, with a dismissive wave of her fan. “Only people of limited understanding do that, do you not think?”

Lady Bramley’s eyes glittered dangerously. “I never underestimate its power,” she said. “Only foolish people do that.”

“You should not have said that,” Harriet whispered, when Lady Bramley had moved on. “She will be certain to pass on anything she hears about you now.”

“She would do so anyway.”

But now, if she heard nothing, she might just fabricate it.

For that matter, it might very well have been her who had started the whispers about Harriet. Her daughter had spent all last season dangling after Lord Blakemore, with no success.

“I must sit down,” Lady Stanley murmured, and drifted away. Unsurprised, Ana steeled herself for the next attack.

“My courage is failing,” Harriet whispered. “I am not sure I can endure this, after all. Is he even here?”

“I do not know. Hush, here comes Mrs. Beaumont.”

Mrs Beaumont was a plump widow with a deceptively motherly appearance.

“My dears,” she said. “What a dreadful time you must be having.”

“Oh, it has given us no end of amusement.” Ana forced her smile wider still. “Is it not astonishing what incredible tales some gossips think up? They must consider us foolish indeed if they think we will give them credence. Why every story I hear is more fantastical than the last!”

Mrs. Beaumont opened her mouth to reply and Ana braced herself.

“Miss Stanley, Miss Burton.”

Ana almost jumped at the sound of Viscount Stapleton’s voice. All at once, her smile was genuine. He had not bowed to social pressure. He had declared his support for Harriet–and for her.

“Lord Stapleton,” the ladies murmured.

“I wondered if I might reserve a dance with each of you,” he said, treating the cousins to a charming smile and pointedly ignoring the gossip. “If, of course, you have any to spare.”

“I think it likely,” Mrs. Beaumont said, and waddled off.

Stapleton lowered his voice. “May I be of any assistance?”

The two women instantly put up their fans to hide their mouths. “Do you know if Charles is here?” Harriet murmured, her eyes momentarily betraying her anxiety. “I must speak with him.”

“He is not and I do not think it likely he will come.”

Harriet’s eyes clouded over. “What am I to do?” she whispered. “I know that if I could speak with him I could make this right. If I had only managed to do so before we would not be in this position.”

“We will have to stay at least an hour. Then I shall claim a headache and Mama will take us home.” Ana looked shyly up at the viscount. “If you would stand up with Harriet, we would both appreciate it very much. Your support will not go unnoticed.”

“I would be very happy to, Miss Stanley.”

“If you wish, you may call me Ana,” she said, then blushed.

“Ana,” he said. “Then you must call me Edward.”

She blushed deeper. “If you wish, my… Edward.”

Might
he become her Edward?

****

He did his best to lift Miss Bolton’s spirits during their dance and then led her back to where Ana was sitting with the dowagers and chaperones.

Her eyes followed them from the floor and she rose to greet them. “E… Lord Stapleton, may I introduce my mother, Lady Stanley.”

Edward turned to greet her and was surprised to see a certain wariness in her eyes, rather than the gleam of ambition he was used to among match-making mamas. He bowed. “A pleasure to meet you, Lady Stanley.”

“Lord Stapleton,” she said, eyes fixed on his face. “I recall your father from my own season. You resemble him a great deal.”

The smile left his face. “I have been told so,” he said. “But looks can be deceiving.”

“On occasion.” She adjusted her shawl. “Your father has passed now, has he not?”

“Yes, my lady. Five years ago now.”

“And since then you have remained on your estate in… Surrey, I believe?”

“I prefer to reside in the country and there was a great deal of work to do on my estate.”

Mainly re-establishing himself in the area, after having not lived there since he had left for Oxford at the age of eighteen.

“I see.”

Her eyes had flicked to Ana before she said that. No doubt she thought he was in need of funds and had his eye on her daughter’s dowry, but surely that should not be enough to turn her against him?

He was about to speak when another gentleman came and asked for Miss Burton’s hand in the next dance, eliciting broad smiles from all three women.

“I must thank you for your kind assistance,” Lady Stanley said, though her tone was still a little stiff. “We are in your debt.”

And he knew when to press his advantage.

“Since I was not able to take Miss Stanley driving this afternoon, you may repay it by allowing me the pleasure of her company tomorrow instead.”

****

The next afternoon, they drove to Hyde Park in his curricle. The day was crisp and cold and Ana shivered a little, despite her wool
pelisse
. Edward edged closer until their thighs were touching and suddenly she had that unaccountable feeling of warmth again. She made a mental note to ask Harriet if she felt the same way about the earl.

Peeking at him, she could not help but feel that there was a little of the hero about him. After he had set the example, several other respectable men had asked Harriet to dance and the whispers had died down. Never had she been so grateful that men of the
ton
were so easily led.

“I have given some thought to Miss Burton’s predicament,” he said, keeping his eyes on the street ahead. “I think I can arrange a chance for her to speak to Blakemore. I mean to hold a
rout
at my town house tomorrow night and invite both of them. I have a small study behind the drawing room where they can speak in private and I will bring him there. You will need to find some pretence to excuse yourselves–tell your mother Miss Burton has torn her dress. I shall have a housemaid waiting to bring you to us. We will both stay as chaperones, so all shall be respectable.”

“Oh, thank you!” Ana said, tears pricking at her eyes. “You cannot imagine how grateful I am for your help. I have thought of little else but how to manage the matter, but, being women, our hands are cruelly tied.”

“You find society’s rules irksome, do you not?”

“Some of them.” She twisted her bonnet strings. “Sometimes I long for the freedom of my childhood.”

“Things are a little easier in the country than they are in town.”

“I cannot wait to return. At least if I married…” Ana broke off, flushing, and looked away.

He cleared his throat. “Is there someone in your home town that you wish to marry?”

“No!” Ana flushed deeper. “That is, there is someone who would like to marry me.”

The corners of his lips quirked. “A crucial distinction.”

She risked a small smile in return. “Yes, indeed.”

“May I ask why you consider him unsuitable?”

Ana looked down at her gloved hands. “He is not a bad man, but he is… He will only just be out of mourning for his first wife and it is no surprise that he wishes to marry again immediately. She was… that is, he very much relied on her to take care of things. Everything, in fact.”

“I see.” Edward shifted a little, sending tingles down her thighs. “As the eldest daughter in a family with no sons, I imagine that you have a good deal of experience being the strong one. In which case, you probably hope to gain someone else to lean on when you marry.”

Ana closed her eyes as he put into words what she had never dared to, and nodded. “I should like someone I could rely on to provide the assistance that only a gentleman can when I needed it, like—”

She bit her tongue to keep herself from finishing her sentence, but was painfully aware that her intended final word must be obvious. What must he think of her? There was frankness and there was impropriety, and that was clearly the latter. No lady put her desire for a man into words before a proposal.

They entered the park and their pace slowed to a walk. He covered her gloved hand with his own. “Ana, once we have things settled for your friend, with your permission I will call and speak to your father.”

She started and he smiled at her.

Ana’s heart started to pound and her voice trembled a little as she said, “You have my permission, my lord.”

He smiled and her stomach flipped over. “Edward.”

****

Ana spent the rest of the afternoon and evening in a daze. She could not settle to the book she had been reading, quite ruined her embroidery and spilled soup down her dress at dinner. Her younger sisters poked fun, but her mother gave her a sharp look and took her aside to the drawing room when the meal was over.

Lady Stanley then began fidgeting a great deal herself, arranging and rearranging the items on her desk. “Am I right in thinking,” she asked, “that your distraction stems from your drive with Viscount Stapleton this afternoon?”

Ana blushed and twisted her dress in her hands, but could not stop a wide smile from breaking out. “Mama, he has said he intends to call on Papa.”

Her mother went quite pale. “I did not realize his interest had advanced that far. I should have spoken to you sooner, because he is quite unsuitable.”

“But he is unmarried, respectable and has a title,” Ana said, bewildered. “Surely he is precisely what you wanted for me?”

To her surprise, her mother did not chasten her for her plain speech, but sank into her chair, took up her embroidery hoop and began to finger it.

“I knew his father,” Lady Stanley said, eyes on her hoop. “Or, rather, I knew of him. He was a brute.”

Ana stared at the little pink marks appearing on her mother’s cheeks.

“He beat his wife,” Lady Stanley continued, knuckles turning white as she gripped her hoop. “Everyone knew. That poor lady had a terrible life. And when she died–they said she fell down some stairs and no one could prove otherwise, but we all knew he did it. He never even pretended to mourn her, but a viscount can get away with anything in this world–even murder.”

“Good grief.”

Poor Edward, Ana could not help but think. Imagine growing up in a house like that. Sir William & Lady Stanley had never pretended to be madly in love, but at least they treated each other with respect.

Lady Stanley finally looked up. “You may think I care only for a title,” she said, “but I would never knowingly allow any of my children to enter a marriage with someone like that.”

Ana felt tears pricking her eyes. On impulse, she reached out a hand to her mother, who took it and gave it a squeeze.

“I am sure Ed… Viscount Stapleton would not treat his wife like that,” she said, not finding the courage to meet her mother’s eyes.

“The apple never falls far from the tree,” her mother said sadly. “Sons learn to be men from watching their fathers. They grow up thinking it normal and do not know any other way of doing things. And there is no title or amount of money that is worth living a life like that. You must stay far away from that man. Promise me, Ana.”

Ana looked up and saw her mother’s eyes: anxious and fearful. Her heart lurched painfully. She struggled to believe that Edward would behave like that, but how well did she really know him? And what if her mother was right? There was precious little that could be done to rescue a wife from her husband and what there was her family did not have the influence to do.

“Your father also knows the family history and he will not give his consent.” Lady Stanley pressed Ana’s hand with her own. “Ana, you are a sensible girl. You do understand that we have your welfare at heart? I do not blame you for forming a
tendre
for him–he is very handsome and the worst of men are often the most charming–but you must cease to associate with him immediately.”

Ana’s chest constricted as if her dress had suddenly shrunk three sizes. Her hands started trembling anew. “He… he has promised to assist Harriet,” she said, wringing them. “He will arrange for her to speak to the earl at his
rout
tomorrow night, with me as chaperone. I must have his help, for I do not know anyone else who can give it. But when that is done… I will tell him he cannot call on me again.”

Her mother patted her hand. “You are a good girl, Ana,” she said. “And a wise one. Now I suggest you retire to bed and do your best to put all thoughts of that man out of your head.”

Ana nodded and trudged up the stairs to her bedroom, her heart heavy in her breast.

****

Rout
s were Ana’s least favourite part of the season. She was increasingly convinced they had begun as a scientific experiment to see how many bodies could be crammed into one room without someone being crushed to death. There were few refreshments and no entertainment, just a heaving mass of bodies. But it did have the advantage that one could absent oneself for a time without being missed, since it was only possible to be aware of a small portion of the room at any one time.

As soon as they were able, she and Harriet escaped back into the hall, where the promised maid was waiting for them. She bobbed a curtsy and led them down the cosy, wood-panelled hall to the study. “In here, misses.”

Harriet gripped her hand tightly and they went inside.

The earl and viscount were standing by the fireplace, only a few feet from the door. On seeing Harriet, the earl stopped speaking mid-sentence. The viscount leaned forward and murmured a few words into his ear and he nodded. He reached out a hand to Harriet and she dropped Ana’s and went straight to his side.