An Impossible Attraction (5 page)

“You do look beautiful,” Olivia whispered.

Alexandra squeezed her hand. “So do you—and so does Corey. We are going to have a lovely evening—all because of the squire.”

Denney beamed. “I hope so,” he said.

Alexandra glanced at Corey. Her eyes were huge as she stared out of the carriage at the arriving guests, and her cheeks were flushed with excitement, too. She was almost as tall as Alexandra, and only a bit slimmer in build, and the pale blue watered silk was stunning on her. It was far too adult for someone of sixteen, but there hadn’t been anything else in Alexandra’s closet. Corey looked eighteen, at least, and terribly beautiful.

Alexandra felt a pang. Corey and Olivia had never been out in society, not like this—and though she did not want to blame anyone, there
was
one person to blame. She reminded herself that their father was no longer himself. Elizabeth Bolton’s death had crushed him, leaving him with no passion but drink and gaming, and no spirit to challenge that passion. Did it matter? Her sisters deserved more, and maybe something good would come of this night for them. The gentlemen present would have to be blind not to notice them.

Suddenly hoofbeats sounded, as if an army was approaching. It was almost their turn to alight, but Alexandra turned, as did her sisters, the squire and Edgemont. A huge black coach, pulled by six magnificent blacks, red-and-gold crests emblazoned upon its doors, passed them, clearly cutting to the head of the line. As it did so, gravel sprayed their carriage.

Alexandra stared after the magnificently attired footmen, in red-and-gold livery, pale stockings, patent shoes and long, curled white wigs. She felt her tension increase. She reminded herself that when Elizabeth Bolton was alive, she had been to a few high-society fetes. Being nervous was absurd. Would anyone really care about their sudden appearance in society, or that they wore older clothes? But now she worried, and not for herself. She did not want her sisters ridiculed tonight.

The huge coach had halted, though she could not see who had gotten out. But she thought she glimpsed a tall, dark figure striding through the crowd, bypassing the queue and directly entering the house.

Oddly, her heart thundered, and she stared.

“Ah, it’s our turn to alight,” Denney exclaimed. A coachman had opened his door, and he got out.

Her father was about to follow Denney to the curb. He must not ruin this for them, she suddenly thought. And she did not trust him. She settled in her seat and faced her father, resolved. “I prefer that you do not overimbibe tonight.”

His eyes widened in shock. Then, “You cannot talk to me that way, Alexandra.”

She firmed. The one thing she could control, or at least try to control, was her father’s drinking. “There is a flask in your pocket. May I have it?”

He gasped and turned red.

She held out her hand and somehow smiled. “If you want me to marry Squire Denney, it will not help if he sees you stumbling about. And, more importantly, what if Corey and Olivia attract suitors tonight? We are clearly in dire straits, and that means our behavior must be impeccable.”

Grumbling, Edgemont took a tarnished silver flask from his pocket, and then, before handing it over, he took a swig. “Father!” Alexandra reproved.

“You remind me more of your mother every day,” he groused, handing her the flask.

Alexandra uncapped it and poured the contents out the window. Then she exchanged looks with her sisters. “It is our turn.”

Corey was somehow both pale and flushed at once. Alexandra murmured, “You will be fine.” She gave her hand to Denney’s coachman—he did not have liveried footmen, obviously—and stepped down to the ground. Her sisters followed.

Olivia came close and whispered, “What are you thinking? We are not here to attract suitors! How could we possibly do that? Everyone knows we are in dire straits.”

Alexandra smiled at her. “Being here tonight makes me yearn for better circumstances, not for myself, but for you and Corey. Father and mother used to go to balls frequently. You should have had this life, Olivia. So should Corey.”

“We are fine,” Olivia insisted. “And right now, the only task we must concentrate on is getting you out of an unwanted betrothal.”

Alexandra grimaced, glancing ahead of them, but the squire hadn’t heard. “My mind hasn’t changed. I am very pleased that the squire is courting me,” she whispered back.

“Maybe you will find someone else here tonight,” Olivia said. She was never combative, but her will was steel. It had always been that way. She was simply so good-natured that very few knew that fact about her.

“I am nervous,” Corey suddenly said, interrupting them. “Enough so that I have a headache. And those men are staring at us.”

Corey was never nervous, Alexandra thought, and looked past her sister to see three gentlemen standing by the open front doors, where the doormen were ushering other guests inside. The gentlemen were about Alexandra’s age, and they were regarding her and her sisters. One smiled and touched his top hat, his look of admiration focused on her youngest sister.

Alexandra somehow smiled back. “He was smiling at you,” she said to Corey. “And there was nothing bold or improper about it.”

“He was smiling at Olivia,” Corey said quickly. But she blushed.

Alexandra took her arm, reminded of just how young her sister was. Corey might be reckless and willful at home, but she was overcome now, and Alexandra did not blame her. She would not be so anxious if she’d had the kind of life she had been born into, she thought. And while Alexandra’s marriage to the squire would not give her that kind of life, it would be a step upward.

The squire turned, gesturing for them to join him. They hurried to his side, following other guests up the walk. Alexandra had been to Harrington Hall many times, at first with her mother, and on two occasions, after Elizabeth’s passing, with her sisters. Lady Blanche had greeted them warmly, even after their fall from grace, as recently as last year.

The entrance hall was the size of their dining room twice over, and standing just outside the threshold of the ballroom, Alexandra saw their hosts, Lady Blanche and Sir Rex. He had lost his leg in the war and was leaning on a crutch. It didn’t matter. They made a stunning couple as they greeted their guests, for she was pale and pretty, and he was dark and handsome. Sara was with them, a stunning, bejeweled and well-dressed brunette. Alexandra felt a twinge of envy as she studied her, but the envy wasn’t for herself, it was for her sisters.

Then she realized that they were being remarked.

Alexandra started. Lady Lewis was staring hatefully at her—as if she wished her dead. But that was impossible, wasn’t it? Lady Lewis was one of her best customers. The other woman turned away when she saw that Alexandra had noticed her, but then she began whispering to two other ladies, and Alexandra knew they were discussing her.

The squire was greeting several gentlemen, and he’d stepped ahead of them. Alexandra turned to her sisters, uneasy and dismayed. “Did you see that?”

Olivia met her stare. “Why would she look at us that way?”

Alexandra took a steadying breath. Now she noticed Lady Henredon across the room—and Lady Bothley, too. What had she been thinking? She sewed for all these women, and it was unacceptable for a servant—or a seamstress—to step out with her betters.

Her stomach churned. She turned—and bumped into Lady Lewis, who had approached.

“Alexandra, what a surprise. I did not recognize you in that dress.”

Unable to manage a smile, she was aware of her sisters stepping close to her, one on either side.

Lady Lewis glanced contemptuously at the three of them. “I don’t recognize any of you, dressed as you are.”

Alexandra’s heart thundered. “That is very unkind.”

Lady Lewis lifted a brow. “It’s not as if I said that I am accustomed to seeing you all in rags—and sewing my gowns.”

Corey choked.

Olivia took Corey’s hand.

Alexandra forced a smile. She wanted to explode, but she needed Lady Lewis’s account, at least for now. “No, you didn’t say any such thing, and I apologize. You would never speak so disgracefully. I am certain of that.”

“My maid will drop off this gown to be cleaned and pressed tomorrow,” Lady Lewis said, then huffed and walked away.

Alexandra trembled.

“What a witch!” Corey cried. “Don’t you dare clean and press that gown for her.”

“Of course I’ll do exactly that.” Alexandra spoke calmly, though she wasn’t calm at all. Her temples were throbbing now. She was already exhausted, and the cruel confrontation had not been helpful. She glanced about, hoping to sit down.

“Miss Bolton, may I introduce you to my good friend, Squire Landon?” Denney said as he returned to her, smiling and in good spirits. “George, Miss Bolton and her two sisters, Olivia and Corey. And Edgemont, of course, you know.”

Her father had caught up to them, as well, Alexandra noticed, then managed to smile at Squire Landon and wish him a pleasant evening. As Landon began to ask Denney about a bull he’d recently purchased, she heard a woman whispering behind her.

“A disgrace…drunk every single night…the gaming…his daughters…”

Alexandra felt her cheeks burning as she strained to hear exactly what the woman was saying, but the gist was clear. Edgemont was a disgrace, and everyone present knew it.

Corey was oblivious—peering wide-eyed at everyone and everything. Alexandra glanced at Olivia, who was staring at an oddly familiar blond man. She didn’t think she knew him, yet the feeling remained that she did. She took a deep breath. Maybe the worst was over.

But then she saw that three older women were staring at her and her sisters now, and she knew that the worst was far from over.

They were whispering behind their gloved hands, and she felt certain they were discussing her or her sisters or her father. Alexandra trembled and turned her back to them. “Father, do you know those ladies?”

He glanced toward them and paused. “Actually, although it has been a while, those ladies were all friends of your mother’s. Lady Collins was especially close. God, it seems so long ago! She is looking very well, actually.”

“She isn’t looking very friendly,” Olivia remarked. “She is shooting daggers at us.”

“That cannot be. She was very friendly with Elizabeth. Come, let’s say hello.”

Alexandra said quickly, “We haven’t met our hosts yet.”

“There are a dozen people ahead of us,” Edgemont insisted. “And Squire Denney is preoccupied with his friend. Lady Collins!” He hurried over.

Reluctantly—exchanging grim looks with her sisters—Alexandra followed. Lady Collins’s expression was as cold as ice.

“It is good to see you again,” Edgemont said.

She inclined her head. “Hello, Edgemont. I didn’t expect to see you here.”

“I am most surprised to be here myself,” he said cheerfully. “Do you recall my daughters?”

Alexandra held her head high as Lady Collins said she didn’t believe they’d ever met. Polite handshakes were exchanged. “Enjoy your evening,” Lady Collins said, then left them, making no attempt to hide her desire to get away as quickly as possible.

Edgemont flushed. “By God, she’s changed.”

“This is a mistake,” Alexandra said softly. “I am a seamstress now. I sew for half a dozen of these women. They resent my being here.”

“You have every right! You are Squire Denney’s guest, and Lady Harrington will be thrilled to see you.”

Alexandra turned to look at her sisters, who seemed distraught and dismayed now. She wished she hadn’t spoken so openly. Then, across their heads, she saw her escort. Denney smiled at her and indicated that he would return in another moment. He was surrounded by gentlemen now. Clearly he was well liked.

Three couples were ahead of them on the receiving line. The knot in her stomach had grown and was aching now. Her head hurt. What had she been thinking, to come out this way with Olivia and Corey? She overheard the matron at the front of the line going on and on about how lovely Sara was—how graceful, how genteel. It was true. Of course Sara de Warenne, a nice enough young lady, did not lack for anything.

“Jilted.”

She turned and saw a woman staring cruelly at her. If looks could kill, she would have dropped over on the spot. She focused on making out what the woman was saying to her friend.

“At the altar?” The friend gasped, looking at Alexandra with malicious delight.

“Yes, she was jilted right at the altar. I recall it so well now.” The first woman smiled with triumph at Alexandra. “She got what she deserved. St. James came to his senses—and married a proper title from a proper family.”

Alexandra whirled, putting her back to the two matrons, aghast. Olivia whispered, “Did I just hear what I thought I did? Were those two ladies saying that Owen jilted you?”

Of all she had endured up to that point, that lie hurt the most, and to think Olivia had heard it, too. “It doesn’t matter, Olivia,” she said, feeling oddly faint now. She realized she was too exhausted to linger at Sara’s birthday ball. She looked around for a chair. Seats lined the entry hall, many of them taken. But only two couples were ahead of them in the queue now; she would have to see this through.

She touched her throbbing temples. If she were at home, she would have lain down with an ice pack.

“Why would anyone say such a thing, when it is patently untrue?” Olivia demanded in a hushed tone.

Alexandra managed to sound calm. “I’m sure the lie wasn’t deliberate. Undoubtedly they haven’t recalled the past correctly, that is all. I’m sure those ladies made an innocent mistake.” But she wasn’t certain, not at all.

“Gossip is like wildfire,” Olivia said. “Once it starts, it is impossible to control.”

“I think those ladies are hateful,” Corey said.

Alexandra’s temples throbbed painfully now. She put her arm around Corey. “No one is hateful. And we should not be eavesdropping.”

“They wanted us to hear,” Corey said, twisting away.

“Why don’t we change the topic? We came here to enjoy the evening,” Alexandra suggested.